Just call me Thor

Chapter 576: A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step



"Strange..."

Sitting in the sword prison, Mike frowned.

By all logic, Ares had already used Fate's Reversal, a skill that could only be activated once per ability. Illusory Reality, the technique that had tormented the Fifth Demon God, should have been expended. It shouldn't have been able to affect him again.

So why had he fallen for it?

Surrounded by the oppressive sword energy, Mike continued to ponder the question.

As before, he wasn't in a rush to leave the sword prison. This wasn't just a trap-it was a test left behind by Ares. Mike needed to submit an answer.

To score a passing grade of 60% was challenging but achievable for Mike. However, a barely passing Supreme Being wasn't good enough.

And Mike's ambitions far exceeded mediocrity.

In situations where his life wasn't in immediate danger, Mike, the quintessential overachiever, always aimed for a perfect score.

The sword prison began to shift in Mike's mind, abstracting and twisting until it resembled the pile of sticks he had played with earlier alongside the mysterious child.

Who was that child? Mike still didn't know.

In fact, he wasn't even sure if the child had truly existed.

The only thing he was certain of was this: solving the stick puzzle in his mind would allow him to break free from Ares' sword prison.

If he dismantled the stick pile, he could escape.

But this method was akin to scraping by with a 60%-barely passing. It was far from the perfect score Mike sought.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

To aim for perfection didn't mean Mike couldn't start with a passing grade.

Moreover, as he worked through the sword prison, his understanding of it deepened. Perhaps, in the process, he would uncover the answers to his lingering questions.

Mike didn't move physically, but in his mind, the stick pile began to unravel.

Each stick he removed felt like carrying a mountain across a desert-grueling and exhausting.

The Eye of Truth had recorded every move the child had made during their game. Mike could simply copy those steps.

But the child's speed had been far greater than Mike's.

In other words, if the child were here, they could dismantle the sword prison far faster than Mike could.

Reflecting on this, Mike realized he needed to understand the meaning behind each of the child's moves before he could proceed.

Otherwise, his attempts to break the prison would be invalid.

Halfway through dismantling the stick pile, something unexpected happened.

The pile in Mike's mind began to shift.

The sword prison wasn't static. It was alive.

The shifting sticks meant that Mike's previous methods were no longer applicable.

But Mike wasn't one to be rigid. He immediately adapted, trying new approaches to continue dismantling the prison.

Sometimes he succeeded. Sometimes he failed.

The sword prison seemed to have infinite variations.

Sitting cross-legged in the prison, Mike spent nearly half a day immersed in thought.

Suddenly, his expression changed, and he burst out laughing.

"Ah, I've got it!"

In his mind, no matter how the sword prison shifted, he could now see a path to dismantling

it.

If he followed the steps in his mind, it would take time, but he would eventually escape the sword prison.

In other words, Mike was free.

But he didn't move.

Stretching his limbs, Mike looked at the sword prison again. In his mind, it once more transformed into a stick pile.

This time, the pile was larger, and the difficulty of solving it had increased significantly.

If he succeeded, he would gain another method to dismantle the sword prison, pushing his score even higher.

And so, Mike remained seated in the sword prison, fully immersed in his task. Sometimes he frowned, sometimes he laughed, and sometimes he dozed off like an old fisherman.

He looked like a madman.

First Abyss.

Cedric had returned at some point, as usual carrying his case and following Ares.

Ares occasionally boasted about himself, and Cedric would chime in with a compliment.

When they had nothing else to do, they played chess.

This time, they decided to challenge themselves with a more complex game, seeking clever moves.

Six-piece chess.

Ares was contemplating where to place seven white pieces when his expression froze, as if

sensing something.

With a hint of surprise, Ares remarked, "Thor succeeded so quickly?"

Though Mike hadn't yet acted to break the prison, Ares could clearly sense it.

At this moment, Thor already possessed the ability to dismantle the sword prison.

This was much faster than Ares had anticipated.

It left him both surprised and delighted.

Thor still had secrets.

Ares knew that while Thor wasn't yet a true Supreme Being, his potential was limitless.

Only two and a half people in the entire human race knew the truth:

The human archives on Thor, detailing every moment of his first eighteen years, were

completely fabricated.

Thor didn't originally belong to this world.

Even Gregory, who had studied Thor extensively, had no idea that his most critical research

materials were forgeries.

Thor's first eighteen years of life were a blank slate.

Cedric, keeping an eye on the chessboard to prevent Ares from cheating, casually asked,

"What did he succeed at?"

Ares thought for a moment, then extended two fingers. A streak of sword energy shot out, piercing the chessboard made from an Archdemon's body, leaving a hole.

Satisfied, Ares nodded and said seriously, "Look, the game is broken."

Twenty-four hours passed.

Mike had been sitting in the sword prison for nearly two days.

[Congratulations. Your latest test score: 64%.]

The sword prison Mike saw wasn't entirely his imagination-it was also influenced by the Eye

of Truth.

As the simulation progressed, the Eye of Truth even developed new features, like grading

Mike's performance.

A score of 64% wasn't much different from 60% when rounded.

Mike wasn't discouraged. This was a test left behind by Supreme Being Ares. Breaking it

wasn't supposed to be easy.

Standing up, Mike stretched in the cramped space.

As he moved, the surrounding sword energy shifted slightly to give him room.

Mike couldn't help but chuckle. Ares had been surprisingly considerate.

In this sword prison, Mike lacked nothing. He could theoretically live here forever without

issue.

Of course, he had no intention of doing so.

After resting, Mike didn't immediately attempt to dismantle the sword prison again. Instead,

he studied the sword energy carefully.

The deeper he delved into the prison, the more he marveled at Ares' swordsmanship.

It was absurdly strong-almost to the point of being monstrous.

Soon, Mike's eyes lit up with excitement.

"I get it now! I know what's going on!" These swords weren't just ordinary sword energy.

They were real swords-each one a strike from Ares.

But...

They weren't swords Ares had unleashed all at once.

As Mike pieced it together, his excitement grew.

"These are the 100,000 strikes Ares has delivered in the past. This is the Supreme Abyssal.

These swords struck the Supreme Demon God, and because of Fate's Reversal, the sword

energy hasn't dissipated..."

The moment Mike understood, the sword prison began to change.

More sword energy emerged, exponentially increasing the difficulty.

Mike: ...

[Latest test score: 0%.]

[Candidate's emotional state: stable. Heart rate: normal.]

Staring at the now impossibly difficult sword prison, Mike sighed.

Maybe ignorance really is bliss.

But soon, he rallied himself and prepared to try again.

For Mike, increased difficulty only meant spending more time.

And now that he understood the origin of the sword energy, he also realized why Illusory

Reality had appeared.

These 100,000 strikes represented Ares' absolute limit.

If Mike could break through this sword prison, he would finally be free.

As he worked, Mike occasionally paused to wonder:

What was Shadow Nine doing now? Had Apollo figured things out? What about Maxen-was

he still practicing swordsmanship?

Shadow Nine was still climbing mountains.

Maxen was still practicing swordsmanship. Apollo was still deep in thought.

Tower of Truth, 99th Floor.

Apollo sat cross-legged, staring out the window.

He suddenly realized how boring this all was.

What if... he got closer?

The moment the thought crossed his mind, the Tower of Truth trembled slightly.

A butterfly landed on Apollo's fingertip.

Apollo glanced out the window.

"Go."

The butterfly didn't move. It simply stared at Apollo, waiting for more specific instructions.

[Go where?]

Apollo thought for a moment before speaking again. "Go take a look."

The butterfly lifted its head, glancing at the scene outside, then at the mortal realm.

It didn't speak but asked Apollo a question: [Does it make a difference?]

From any angle, Earth was just the mortal realm.

In Apollo's view, the distance of observation didn't change the result.

The sky was still the sky. The clouds were still the clouds.

Objective reality didn't bend to subjective will.

Whether he observed the mortal realm from the 99th floor of the Tower of Truth or up close,

it remained the same.

Apollo thought for a moment, then withdrew his hand. The butterfly vanished.

The butterfly was right.

No matter how he looked at the mortal realm, it was still boring.

Unlike Morpheus or Ares, Apollo wasn't fighting for humanity.

He was only fighting to survive.

It was his awakening of an SSS-level talent that had made him the Supreme Demon God's

mortal enemy.

Apollo didn't want to fight the Supreme Demon God. The Supreme Demon God wanted to kill

him.

Apollo understood one thing clearly: Nathan had a chance to ascend. Apollo didn't.

Even if he reached the Heavenly Realm, the Supreme Demon God would find a way to huntn/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

him down.

Besides, Apollo had no desire to go to the Heavenly Realm.

His existence had protected the mortal realm and Earth.

But for Apollo himself, he had little personal motivation to do so.

All he wanted was a quiet place to think things through.

Now, it seemed he was close to an answer.

Staring out the window, a rare emotion flickered in Apollo's eyes: confusion.

It was a strange feeling.

After thinking for a day and a night, he still couldn't figure it out.

So Apollo decided:

He would go to the mortal realm for a walk.