298

[Thor is Born]

"Is this the lightning tree?" Forseti asked with a look of surprise.

At this moment, in front of him, stood a sturdy pale cyan giant tree within a fence.

This giant tree had a peculiar texture, like a mix of gold and wood, with faint arcs of electricity flowing between the rough bark.

"What else?" Eir said with a smile.

Forseti: "The lightning tree obviously can't adapt to the environment of Asgard. How did you manage it?"

This light blue tree was the Thunderbolt Tree that he planted with his own hands. It was planted after picking the fruit in Vanaheim.

However, the Thunderbolt Tree, a strange tree bred in the valley of the thunderbolt, couldn't develop normally once it left that environment.

Forseti had tried his best to grow a real Thunderbolt Tree, but it was unsuccessful. The Thunderbolt Tree planted in Asgard became more like an ordinary tree as it grew, as if it were degraded.

However, the lightning tree at this time was tall and stout, with hidden electric arcs. It was exactly the same as the lightning tree in the valley of falling thunder, showing no signs of degradation.

Eir explained: "After you left Asgard, I studied the tree for a long time, and then I formulated a liquid. Regularly watering it with this liquid can restore the lightning characteristics of the tree."

"But in fact, after watering with the liquid, many of the tree's characteristics have changed, which is different from the native Thunderbolt Tree in the Valley of Falling Thunder."

"For example, this tree has no fruit so far, and I don't know if it will ever bear fruit." Eir shrugged.

Forseti carefully touched the Thunderbolt Tree.

"Clap--"

The arc throbbed, making his fingertips ache.

In a blink of an eye, a few months passed. After this period of adaptation, Forseti reintegrated into Asgard, which had changed over the past 1300 years, and lived as before.

At noon that day, Forseti was standing in the yard, observing the standing lightning tree.

Shilut lay beside him, pretending to sleep.

Normally, Shilut didn't need to sleep.

However, after living in Asgard for thousands of years, he had inexplicably developed the habit of pretending to sleep, as if he were "imitating adults."

At this moment, Forseti's expression changed. He looked up and saw Hela fly from the sky and land beside him.

"Your Highness?" Seeing her complicated expression, Forseti hurried forward. "What's wrong?"

Hela: "Can you believe it? My brother is about to be born."

"What?" Forseti was taken aback.

Hela exhaled: "Frigga has been pregnant for a while, but my father has been hiding it from me until today. He suddenly told me that my brother is about to be born."

Forseti was very surprised: "When?"

"Now." Hela held her forehead. "After telling me the news, the king went to assist in the birth."

Forseti was also a little confused. He was still thinking about when Frigga had become pregnant, but he didn't expect it to happen so soon.

Hela sat silently on the stone bench in the courtyard, and Forseti put his hand on her back: "Since it's happening, let's go with the flow. Maybe you'll find that being a sister is a good thing."

After a while, Hela said slowly: "I still remember that when I was young, my father said more than once, 'If only you were a boy'... Although he rarely said that in front of me as I grew older, I knew he always wanted a son. Now he finally got what he wanted."

"Now he not only has a new wife but also a new child and a new family. I will probably become an outsider..." Hela sighed. "Maybe the prophecy spoken by Udu is about to happen."

"When Odin's hands were stained with the pure blood of his children..." Forseti still remembered that sentence and also recalled a word in the second half: assembly.

However, neither he nor Hela could hear the entire content of the second half of the sentence.

Forseti couldn't help thinking at this time, what is the assembly?

At the same time, in a certain room in the Golden Palace.

Among female doctors, Frigga lay on the bed, clutching the sheets, panting heavily.

"Push harder!" said a female doctor.

Odin sat on the edge of the bed, holding Frigga's hand, looking nervous and expectant: "Come on, Frigga, our son is about to be born."

"He's coming!" Several female doctors said one after another.

"Ah!" Frigga couldn't help shouting, and then a bright cry rang out.

"Wow--"

With this cry, everyone in the room smiled, and Odin's face turned red with joy: "I have a son!"

The female doctor cut the umbilical cord.

Odin couldn't wait to hold the newborn baby boy, not minding the wet blood on his body: "Thor, my son."

At the severed umbilical cord, the baby's umbilical cord blood slowly dripped, staining Odin's hand.

Of course, no one cared about this, and the room was full of joy.

"Frigga, look at our Thor." Odin hugged the baby and moved close to Frigga. "Does he look like me?"

"Yes." Frigga was very weak but also full of joy, looking lovingly at Little Thor.

"But his hair is more like yours, haha." Odin touched a few strands of Little Thor's hair and said with a smile.

"Boom--"

At this moment, a loud noise suddenly came from outside, like thunder, revealing a shuddering breath.

"Wow!" Startled by the terrifying loud noise, Little Thor cried even louder.

Odin's expression changed, and he suddenly stood up as if facing a great enemy. Thunder shot out of his eyes, as if looking at the sky outside the Golden Palace through the high wall.

At this moment, the sky in Asgard was surging without warning. The originally bright and clear sky suddenly became covered with dark clouds, and the long dark clouds drowned the sun's brilliance.

"Boom--"

Among the surging dark clouds, there was another thunderous roar, and all of Asgard heard it, and the whole city was shocked.

"What happened?" Almost all Asgardians asked the same question.

Forseti and Hela did the same, looking at the sky with dark clouds in shock and doubt.

Shilut couldn't pretend to sleep any longer, clenching his fists and looking at the dark clouds nervously.

The dark clouds were growing, surging and condensing from all directions, accompanied by an increasingly strong sense of oppression, as if something terrible was nurturing in the depths of the dark clouds.

Forseti's expression changed, and he looked down, noticing that the holy relic on his waist seemed to be stimulated by some force, flashing continuously.

A lightning bolt flashed, and Odin rode an eight-legged Pegasus, standing in the air, holding the spear of eternity, pointing directly at the dark clouds in the sky, shouting like thunder, "Who is it!"

"Odin!" A turbid and fiery voice sounded from the dark clouds. This voice was very strange, as if thousands of voices had converged, revealing endless resentment and rage, "I am Mangog, your end!"

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