In the end, Schiller showed up, grabbed Constantine tightly, and gave Thor a verbal pep talk before barely managing to save Constantine, who had been blasted black all over.
After Thor left, Schiller tossed the Constantine he had been carrying onto the ground and sighed heavily. "Well? Still saying he's a magazine model?"
"That's not right." Constantine exhaled a puff of black smoke. "How could Thor have that kind of divine power? I've fought him before. He was just a big idiot who knew how to swing a hammer. Give him a year and he still wouldn't be able to touch me. Why is this one so strong?"
"Didn't you see what he was wearing?"
"It wasn't like he wasn't wearing clothes."
Schiller covered his forehead. "Can you think about something besides that filthy nonsense in your head?! He was wearing robes. Those are the garments of the Emperor of Asgard. He was crowned ages ago, and you still think he's a prince?"
"Oh, right." Constantine slapped his forehead. "Sorry, but his face was just too striking. I really didn't have time to look at his clothes. Those Asgardian gods get stronger with age, right?"
"Come to think of it, Odin really had good taste. Both the son he had himself and the adopted son he picked up were beauties. Say, if I found a way to help them solve Ragnarok, could I get both of them to invite me to dinner at the same time? Of course, the two of them can get married in this universe, but I'm not trying to break them up. I could join them. I'm very experienced..."
Schiller was speechless. He truly did not want to say another word to this man, but after thinking it over, he still asked, "What kind of plan