Thor called for Heimdall.
A dazzling Rainbow Bridge descended amid the swarming fire demons.
The two brothers departed calmly.
Thor was in high spirits.
Whether Surtur had shrunk by several hundred times or not, he had accomplished something even Odin, the Allfather, had never achieved.
"Move it. Why are you dawdling? No strength left? You were the one who wanted to carry the crown, and you're also the one complaining it's heavy. What exactly do you want?"
Thor wore a smile, but his tone was anything but pleasant.
"Yes, yes, you're right. It's all my fault. The peerless hero who defeated Surtur and ended the prophecy of Ragnarok..."
Loki grumbled under his breath.
He looked utterly listless.
He really was injured, and badly at that. Unlike bleeding wounds that healed quickly, his injuries came from overusing magic and suffering the backlash.
They were not the kind of injuries that could be easily healed.
And yet, he had been the one to offer to carry the Flame Crown.
If it had been anyone else, they would have suspected Loki long ago.
Was he plotting something against the Flame Crown, or trying to steal the credit for killing Surtur?
But Thor, blockhead that he was, did not even think about it before tossing the Flame Crown straight to Loki.
The two walked all the way back like a scholar who had earned top honors and returned home in glory.
Along the way, Thor strode proudly ahead while Loki trailed behind like a little attendant.
People occasionally shouted the Thunder God's name.
No one actually thought Loki had killed Surtur.
That showed Thor's prestige and Loki's reputation. But this time, Loki had truly been wronged. Even if the credit was not split evenly, without Loki holding back the fire demons and fire drakes,