In Marvel Comics, superheroes' strength declined as they aged, replaced by incomparably rich combat experience.
But that applied to other superheroes. Thor was not among them.
As he grew older, Thor only became stronger—the so-called phenomenon of getting tougher with age.
Russell was not sure whether other Asgardians were the same, but Odin and Thor, this father-son pair, were far more powerful when they had white beards than when they were still clean-shaven.
The elderly version of Thor, also known as King Thor, had not only reached the pinnacle of power but had also fully matured in temperament. He was the perfect heir in Odin's eyes.
Crackle! Crackle!
Electric Arcs coiled around his body as Thor fixed his sharp single eye on Thanos, staring at him coldly.
Compared to the tall, muscular frame he had possessed in his youth, Thor was visibly smaller now. Deep wrinkles lined the edges of his sunken eye socket, gray-white hair draped over his shoulders, and he looked utterly aged.
Yet while all the other lackeys were burdened by their elderly bodies and gasped for breath after taking two steps, he alone stood straight-backed. His presence did not diminish but instead grew stronger, his majesty like that of a king descending upon the world.
His beard hung down to his chest without a single strand out of place. At a glance, one could tell this old man had something to him.
Russell clearly sensed the violently surging lightning within Thor, like a powder keg that could destroy heaven and earth once it exploded.
Thanos felt it too. The mockery vanished from his eyes as he reevaluated Thor, his vigilance mixed with a trace of surprise.
When he had first met Russell, Thanos had also seen Thor. He had found him unimpressive; aside from his formidable