Just call me Thor

"Shadow Nine, you finally made it! I've missed you so much!" Mike's words were genuine, without a hint of pretense.

Without Shadow Nine around, Mike's safety was never guaranteed.

Shadow Nine ignored Mike's greeting and instead directed a wisp of black mist to press down on Nightmare's Breeze and the Thunderclap Hammer.

The two pieces of equipment instantly calmed down.

Shadow Nine coldly remarked, "A few days without supervision, and you've grown bold. Not only did you help Shadow Ten level up, but you also brought the Thunderclap Hammer to Ares."

Mike sheepishly scratched his head and smiled, "Thank you for the compliment, but it wasn't just my doing..."

"Compliment my ass!"

Shadow Nine scolded, "I told you before, when Ares chose a sword as his weapon, he didn't take the Thunderclap Hammer. The Hammer felt insulted and has been holding a grudge against Ares. Can't you think before you act?"

Mike chuckled awkwardly, "Well, you weren't around, so I didn't think it through!"

"Hmph."

With a cold snort, Shadow Nine didn't continue the reprimand.

Mike was too smart to forget something so important. He must have his own reasons.

Shadow Nine didn't dwell on it, lowering his voice slightly, "No matter what Gregory told you, I can only say... he was wrong about the Supreme Mark."

Mike fell silent, not responding.

Right or wrong could sometimes just be a matter of perspective.

Shadow Nine continued, "You're too weak right now. When you reach level 600, I'll tell you the truth."

"Alright."

Both tacitly agreed to pretend the Supreme Mark didn't exist.

Level 600 was still a long way off for Mike.

Regarding the Supreme Mark, Mike couldn't just rely on the words of Shadow Nine and Professor Gregory.

He had planned to ask Ares, but who knew Shadow Nine would arrive so quickly.

Now, it seemed he would have to find Apollo for answers.

Putting that matter aside for now,

since the Thunderclap Hammer had calmed down, Mike counted his steps and walked six more, looking at Professor Gregory's back.

There seemed to be an invisible barrier between Mike and Professor Gregory, making his figure appear blurry.

Was Ares so powerful that even the space around him was distorted?

Professor Gregory stopped at the last step, a cane appearing in his hand.

"You're finally here!" A swordsman appeared before him.

Gregory nodded, "Yes, I'm here."

As he had said before, the journey hadn't been easy.

He had walked three hundred years to get here.

He still had to 'walk' another hundred years to achieve his Second Awakening.

This process was destined to be extremely perilous, but Gregory was willing to bet his life on it to awaken his Second talent as soon as possible!

He came with the resolve to die.

Even so, at this moment, it was hard for anyone to remain completely calm.

But Gregory could.

He had seen too much life and death, even fates worse than death.

Shadow Nine, Calderon, Morpheus, Ares...

Over the past three centuries, whenever humanity faced great crises, someone always stepped forward to turn the tide.

The three hundred years of human history were built with countless blood and sweat!

Gregory was like a living fossil.

He had witnessed every major event in the past three hundred years, every awakening of the Supreme Demon God...

With each upheaval, Gregory gained a new understanding of his own weakness and helplessness.

He had been an observer for three hundred years, watching the play unfold.

He could only do some logistical work, what little he could, but it was never enough, far from enough.

In the quiet of the night, he would fall silent, unable to calm his restless heart.

Gregory thought he would never have the chance to do better in this life.

Until recently, during an ordinary class, Gregory was unusually late.

In class, a student stared at him, eyes full of curiosity.

That gaze was strange, indescribable.

Gregory immediately felt that this student named Mike was interesting.

After class, he casually looked through some files and naturally saw more issues.

He put the files aside, not continuing to look or think about them.

Digging deeper wouldn't be appropriate.

Not long after, Shadow Nine suddenly appeared before Gregory, telling him the conditions for a Second Awakening.

It was clear that Shadow Nine was in a hurry, coming to inform Gregory the moment he knew.

Too hurried.

This urgency directly exposed Thor's true identity to Gregory.

Shadow Nine's style wouldn't overlook this point; he would be aware of the risks.

But he still did it.

Shadow Nine knew that Gregory was also in a hurry.

After three hundred years of watching, his passion had cooled.

He had the will to kill demons but was limited by his strength.

He watched the tides rise and fall, the curtains lifting and falling repeatedly, his eyes reflecting countless heroes sacrificing themselves for humanity...

When would he get his turn on stage?

Could he ever be the protagonist?

For three hundred years, Gregory had asked himself this question and finally got an answer: Yes.

To gamble, to risk his life, to achieve a Second Awakening!

To seize a fleeting chance to change his fate with his own hands!

So, Gregory set out.

From the moment Gregory made his decision, every decision by the human leadership served one purpose: to deliver Gregory safely to Ares.

Killing demon gods, breaking the Abyss, carrying the black coffin into the Forest of Truth, Thor going to the Suture Abyss...

This journey was a perilous game and struggle.

The Nightmare Corps and Valor Sword Corps were fully mobilized.

Outside the Suture Abyss, there had been no less than ten corps-level battles!

Fortunately, they succeeded.

Gregory stood here, before Ares.

Without much small talk, Ares spoke again, "Let me know when you're ready."

Taking a deep breath, Gregory closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were filled with determination.

He exhaled deeply and said,

"We can start."

"What did you say?"

The swordsman before him turned slightly, a hint of curiosity in his voice, "That sword strike is already over. Or did you think you could see my sword? Impossible."

Ares' sword was too fast.

Gregory's pupils contracted, his aged face filled with disbelief. He raised his hand slightly, looking down at his withered hand, lost in thought.

He had just prepared himself mentally for the surgery.

But the chief surgeon walked in and told him the surgery was successful, and he could be discharged now?

Was there a mistake?

From Ares' perspective, there was no problem at all.

Whether Gregory was ready or not had nothing to do with Ares' sword strike.

Ares' sword strike would have the same result regardless of Gregory's mental state.

Ares had struck twice.

The first strike 'cut away' hundreds of years from Gregory's life, instantly aging him to 400 years old. Now, Gregory was older than his father.

The second strike was the Sword of Life.

A spring breeze blew, smoothing the wrinkles on Gregory's face, infusing him with new vitality, turning his silver hair black.

At four hundred years old, Gregory finally achieved his Second Awakening!