…
"Hiss—"
When Leon arrived outside Loki's cell and drawled, "Loo~ki~ bro~ther~,"
Loki felt a chill shoot straight to his scalp.
Even as Frost Giant royalty, he instinctively wrapped his arms around himself for warmth and shot Leon an irritated look.
"Who's your brother? Don't call me that. I'm freezing."
"Brother, Odin Allfather has taken me as his adopted son. Since you're older, it's only proper I address you as such. No need to feel embarrassed just because you can't beat me."
"There are plenty of people who can't beat you," Leon added casually, hands clasped behind his back.
With a flick of motion, he dispelled the transparent magical barrier sealing Loki's cell—and simply walked in without closing it behind him.
Loki's eyes narrowed.
Seeing the barrier left open, his thoughts immediately stirred. One hand slipped behind his back, green illusion magic flickering to life.
From Loki's perspective, Leon strode toward the illusion he had left in place. Meanwhile, the real Loki turned invisible and slipped past Leon with a smug grin.
Heh. Thanks, brother.
His smile curved like the Nike logo as he stepped confidently out of the cell.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold—
"Ah—!"
A familiar sensation struck.
From the shadows beside the cell emerged Bast in her maid-form attire—black-and-white, elegant, and utterly lethal.
She appeared at Loki's side like a phantom.
Grabbing the leg he had just stepped out with, she swung him left and right like a rag doll—
Then tossed him back into the cell as if discarding trash.
Leon didn't even need to look.
Under Ultra Instinct, he shifted gracefully aside, passing Loki with effortless elegance as the God of Mischief's smile distorted.
Bang!
Loki smashed through his own illusion and slammed into the wall, limbs bent into a twisted 卍-like sprawl.
Like a gecko, he slid slowly down the smooth, glass-like surface—face first.
From smug to not smug.
"Bastard!"
"That's the fourth time!"
"I swear—!"
"If you dare treat me like this again, I'll—"
Before he could finish, Leon had already appeared in front of him in an instant—no wind-up, no warning.
"You—what are you doing?!" Loki demanded, raising his hands defensively and squeezing his eyes shut, expecting yet another humiliation.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Instead, Leon grabbed one of his hands, pulled him upright, and even brushed the dust from his clothes.
"Brother, I believe you are more suited to be King of Asgard than Thor."
"So—interested in making a deal?"
"Oh?"
Loki's eyes gleamed.
"You do have good taste."
"Go on."
The Asgardian throne had always been his deepest obsession. At the mention of it, he forgot Leon's earlier provocation entirely.
More importantly—
Bast, who could see through every illusion, stood beside Leon watching him intently. Loki didn't dare attempt any tricks.
"I have a plan that requires your cooperation. Agree to it, and afterward you'll earn enough merit to offset your current crimes—restoring the love of the Asgardian people."
"As for Thor—he no longer desires the throne as he once did. I'll handle persuading him."
"And under the support of Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, and Leon Stark Odinson, God of Battle…"
"Loki Odinson, God of Mischief, will ascend the throne."
"Interesting."
Loki gestured for him to elaborate.
Everything Leon said was quietly veiled beneath Loki's illusion magic. The prison guards and other inmates noticed nothing.
Unless Odin himself were physically present, Loki was confident the deception would hold.
Leon leaned closer and explained—
"This, then that… followed by this… and finally that."
"Well?" Leon asked once he finished.
"If events unfold exactly as you claim…" Loki extended his hand with a smile. "Then we have a deal."
Leon shook it firmly.
"Deal."
"As a gesture of good faith, I prepared a little gift for you. You insist on close combat, yet insist on wielding those rather shabby-looking daggers. It's hardly fitting for an Asgardian prince."
"Someone might think Asgard cannot even provide its royalty with proper weapons."
"Mind your own business," Loki shot back flatly.
"My daggers were enchanted by Frigga herself—and nourished with my divine power. Believe me, if I stab you, the blade will go in clean—and come out red."
Leon chuckled.
"I'm afraid you'll never get the chance to prove that."
With Ultra Instinct, unless an opponent could overwhelm him in sheer speed, they wouldn't so much as brush a strand of his hair.
And Loki couldn't even fly. If Leon took to the sky, Loki would be left staring helplessly upward.
Smiling, Leon clapped his hands.
Arcee—also dressed in maid attire—stepped forward carrying a rectangular wooden case roughly a meter long.
Click.
The lid sprang open.
Inside lay two elegant silver short swords—refined yet razor-sharp, with slightly elongated hilts designed for swift, precise strikes.
"Frigga confiscated your daggers. No matter. These are called Lion's Fangs. They will more than fill that void—and help you leave this prison."
Leon gestured for him to try them.
"Lion's Fangs?" Loki arched a brow.
"If you dislike the name, you're free to rename them. They're yours."
The design struck directly at Loki's aesthetic sensibilities. It was as if they had been crafted specifically for him.
He reached out—
But before his hand touched them, the twin blades leapt from the case on their own, flying into his grasp.
Like Mjolnir—but without the inelegant hammer aesthetic Loki so despised.
His approval deepened instantly.
"Well then," Leon said lightly, "I'll leave you to your fun."
With a crooked smile, he departed—Bast at one side, Arcee at the other, looking every bit the victor of life.
The transparent barrier shimmered back into place.
Watching Leon leave, Loki smiled faintly. A hint of green flickered in his eyes.
With a subtle flick of his wrist—
The twin silver blades vanished from sight.
As if they had never existed.
"Thanks, brother."
…
[Would you like to perform today's Daily Check-In?]
"Do it."
[Ding. Daily Check-In complete. Congratulations, Host—you have obtained "Frost Affinity."]
[Frost Affinity: You possess extreme resistance to cold. Frost is no different from a warm spring to you.]
[Description: Winter is coming.]
Leon grinned.
"Oh?"
"Not bad at all."
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