From his temple to the right side of his chin, three vicious gashes had been carved into Thor's face. With his physique, wounds like these would heal on their own before long.
But for now, his handsome, imposing face had been brutally disfigured.
The God of Thunder had just blasted his opponent away and caught his breath when crimson chains sprang from nowhere and bound his limbs fast.
James gave him no chance to put any distance between them. Pulled forward by the [Crimson Chains] extending from the four arms on his back, he charged again and planted both feet on Thor's chest, stomping him out of the sky and crashing him down to earth.
The impact, like a falling meteor, sent a mild earthquake rippling across Greenland and kicked up a nearly ten-meter wall of snow, which slowly settled in a soft flurry.
Loki smacked his lips and sat on the edge of the ice-crystal chaise, leaning forward to prop up his chin.
His goal had been achieved, but the whole affair had spiraled wildly out of his control.
"Brother, undefeated across the Nine Realms... if you get killed outright—well, the throne. Heh! That would be nice, too. But without the pleasure of tormenting you, being king of the gods doesn't seem all that fun."
Thud!
A dark teal battle boot stamped down on Thor's still-twitching wrist.
He still clutched his hammer. His Asgardian armor had long since been shattered, its scattered fragments hanging from his body. More than a dozen wounds of varying lengths, deep enough to expose bone, covered his chest and back, revealing broad swaths of bloody flesh.
So the gods had no golden blood after all. They were just like humans.
"Everything I used in that fight was power I gained step by step, as