Thor always felt as though he was trapped in a nightmare.
Until today, he had been the noble Prince of Asgard, even on the verge of being crowned the new king.
He should have been basking in the respect of thousands, receiving their love and cheers.
Countless people should have raised their arms and borne him toward the throne. At the feast celebrating his ascension, he should have worn garlands woven for him by every fairy, drunk the wine brought by every warrior offering congratulations, and watched them bow before him.
It should have been that way...
Because he had been born the Prince of Asgard, born a god destined to become the king of the Nine Realms!
But now, everything had come to nothing.
The Allfather Odin had exiled him. He had lost the throne, lost his divine power, and even lost his beloved Mjolnir!
Losing his divine power was one thing, but what angered him even more was that on this backwater planet, not a single person had heard of his great name?
These mortals showed him no respect at all. They would not even call him Thor, God of Thunder!
"The gods are unjust!"
he thought.
Over the years, how many glorious victories had he won for Asgard?
Yet now, the God King had banished him simply because he had declared war on the Frost Giants.
In his eyes, his father had truly grown old.
The God King who had once ruled the Nine Realms and conquered the cosmos was gone, replaced by a cowardly old man.
Timid and fearful, he had even allowed the Frost Giants to ruin his coronation ceremony without daring to retaliate, turning Asgard into the laughingstock of the Nine Realms!
Thor was deeply unconvinced.
He wanted to return to Asgard and demand