[Beyond The Wall]
"Haaa..."
Thud
"HAAA!"
Thud
"HAA!"
Crash...
The big tree finally couldn't take it anymore and collapsed.
The cold was unlike anything I had ever felt, even after upgrading my Godly Body to Level 2. Still, it was bearable—just a bit chilly at best as long as I don't focus on it—and considering that I was almost knee-deep in snow, that was saying something.
I kind of liked the cold northern breeze. Probably the only annoying thing about this place was the constant white all around me. Snow is beautiful and all, but terribly boring to look at once the novelty wears off.
As for the tree and why I was hammering at it, well, I needed wood for a fire—and, frankly, I needed something to hit.
Months of frustration had to be let loose, and this was the only way I knew. What happened in King's Landing or in that tavern was cool and all, but nowhere near enough to quell the rage I'd built up while playing the role of the innocent Prince Charming.
No, in fact, I had a lot of anger and an intense desire to destroy things. Odin knows how Alliser is still alive. If not for Jeor Mormont stepping in when he did, I swear I would've thrown Alliser off the Wall.
I honestly don't know where all this anger and battle lust comes from. At this point, I can only blame Thor's personality. But I do know one thing: keeping it bottled up is probably a bad idea. It might just explode one day on someone who doesn't deserve it. Sigh.
Note to self: add calming meditation to the daily routine.
After collecting the wood I needed, I kept walking back to my camp, Mjolnir hanging by my side. I'd had a special hook added to my belt to carry Mjolnir—carrying it in my hand all the time was a bit impractical. Technically, I didn't have to carry it at all—I could summon it anytime—but why bother? A simple upgrade to my outfit made things easier.
I was searching for the White Walkers or the Wildlings, maybe even Bran or Benjen Stark like I told the Stark girls. But the North was vast and endless. At this point, I honestly had no idea where I was.
Navigation wasn't exactly my strong suit. I often had to climb trees to figure out my location. If only Mjolnir would let me fly... sigh. Still a few upgrade points away. I had three points left, but spending them on Mjolnir in the hope that it might let me fly seemed like a waste.
Everything looked the same here. White snow, dark trees, and silence.
"Even knowing there's probably nothing out there that can harm me much, this silence still creeps me out..."
I had no map, no guide, no clear path. Those bastards at Castle Black wouldn't listen. I was alone in my plan to bring the Free Folk south of the Wall.
Only two days had passed, and I was already starting to think this might've been a bad idea. But my real enemy wasn't fear—far from it. It was boredom.
Having nothing to do can drive a man to madness. Hacking trees wasn't just out of rage, you know.
Returning to my makeshift camp, I cleared an area for the wood and stacked it up. I brought my hand close to the pile and focused, channelling the power within me.
Lightning suddenly sparked around my hand—bolts of electricity. It wasn't nearly the same as what I could do with Mjolnir or by summoning thunder from the sky, but it was powerful enough to paralyse someone.
And I used it... to light a campfire.
Just as intended, the dry wood caught fire quickly. Then came the prize I had caught—nothing major, just two birds and one rabbit, courtesy of Mjolnir.
While eating and wishing I had something stronger to drink, I sipped water I had melted from snow.
Then, suddenly, it happened.
I heard a subtle sound—and in the next second, an arrow came flying at my head. Only my quick reflexes saved me.
"Attack!"
A group of Wildlings burst from the trees around me. I hadn't sensed them at all. They charged with weapons drawn—swords, axes, spears.
"Motherfu... At least let me finish eating, you imbeciles," I grumbled, rising to my feet with Mjolnir in hand.
Another arrow came, but I blocked it easily with my hammer. I twisted and hurled Mjolnir toward the archer. The hammer, defying all expectations, flew straight at him and knocked him out.
I didn't bother summoning it back. I hadn't needed to. When one of the Wildlings, a woman, charged at me with a crude wooden spear, I dodged, grabbed it, yanked it away, and headbutted her—knocking her out cold.
Now I had a spear. Not for long though. Seeing two more Wildlings, I gripped the spear and prepared. The moment one moved, I hurled it at his head. It struck so fast he didn't even realize before it pierced through.
The other, a swordsman, swung at me. I easily dodged. With Level 2 Godly Body and training in Thor's fighting style, I could see their every move.
I was already incredibly fast for a human. My perception was so sharp I could catch a flying arrow if I tried. So this poorly trained swordsman didn't stand a chance.
I dodged again. The others seemed panicked—probably because I'd taken out their companions so easily.
Dodge. Step back. Duck. I dropped low under a wide swing—not ideal positioning, but it didn't matter.
Before the man could swing again, Mjolnir came flying back—slamming into his chest with godly force. I could practically hear his ribs shatter.
Rip the fucker.
Honestly, I just wanted to try that move. Thor does it in the movies—I had to try it once.
"That's it?" I asked no one, scanning the area. No more enemies emerged.
After confirming I was alone, I checked on the Wildlings. The two struck by Mjolnir—the archer and the swordsman—were dead. So was the one impaled by the spear.
Only one left—the woman I headbutted.
She had black hair, wild eyes, and was breathing heavily. I waited for her to wake while finishing my dinner.
When she finally came to, clutching her head, she stared daggers at me—equal parts fear and surprise. She'd seen her companions fall like dolls off a shelf.
"Name," I asked, still eating, acting like I didn't care. I hadn't tied her up. I could catch her anytime.
But I needed her. If I wanted to find the Wildling camps, I needed a guide. This land was too vast to wander alone.
"Tell me yours, you hammer-throwing northern cunt, and I'll give you mine."
Feisty. But what else did I expect? This was the North—the real North.
"Thor. I'm Thor Odinson," I replied.
She looked around, likely wondering why she wasn't bound and if her companions were all dead.
"You're the last one left."
"If you're going to kill me, get on with it."
I shook my head. "No need. I have a use for you."
She frowned. "And why would I help you?"
"Help me? No, no. You'll help yourself by doing what I ask."
"And what if I don't?"
"Then I'll drag you with me until my utter lack of direction drives you mad enough to help. Just imagine it: you and me, wandering this snow-filled wasteland until we die. Quite the date, wouldn't you agree?" I grinned.
She scowled. Satisfyingly.
"If you wish to be spared that fate, start talking. Name."
She was definitely planning to run. But she hesitated. Then, finally, she spoke.
"Osha..."
xxx
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