"I could use a little chat with His Grace, King Robert," I said, waiting for a response. The mention of the King stunned Joffrey. I could see his erratic behaviour calming down. Finally, as the murmurs around us grew louder, he felt the pressure and shouted.
"Very well! Come on, get on with it!" Joffrey's glare was back.
Hmm, didn't expect him to agree. Though there was always a chance he'd go back on his word, whatever.
I could definitely use a talk with the King. I by no means intent to go back to the castle black and staying here is also pointless even if Starks led me.
Going to the capital, though, now that sounds fun. Even though I utterly detest the horrid mode of transportation, at least horse riding didn't agree with my back, I know going there would be better than staying here in this boring place.
I could earn a bit of money for myself in capital and then decide what else I wish to do from that point onwards.
As for the north and issues with the white walkers. I have already nudged the situation towards the direction I wished to. That was enough.
The North was easy enough. Even if Ned Stark didn't call all the lords before leaving for King's Landing, the Night's Watch could always try to gather the Northern lords. As Lord Commander Jeor Mormont said, even if one came, it would be enough. The others would eventually believe through word of mouth.
I don't have to worry about that. My current worries should only be the man in the black armour, wearing a dog-shaped helmet, sheathing his sword.
The Hound drew his sword and pointed it at me. I raised Mjolnir defensively. Already winded from training, I was tired, no doubt about it, but at the same time, I was excited. This would be my first real fight here.
"Ahaa!" And then it began.
Without giving me a second, the Hound rushed at me, swinging his sword. Did I mention the bastard was in full plate while I was wearing just a thin shirt from training?
On instinct, my body ducked, dodging the attack while sidestepping when he tried to spartan-kick me.
Seeing a little opening, I swung my hammer, only for him to close the gap when he saw my arms wide. He head-butted me—again, with his helmet on. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt as much as I thought, and I didn't feel much force from the attack.
But… I fell for that trap. My inexperience was showing. 'Just stop using your brain and let Thor do the fighting,' I muttered to myself with irritation as I was knocked back.
He came again, his sword pointed at my side. Seeing the attack coming, I moved my hammer to block it, only for him to suddenly turn, retract his sword, and use the same motion to strike my extended leg.
'Fuck…'
For a big guy, this dog was surprisingly agile. Maybe exhausting myself to death on the first day of training wasn't the best idea.
Thor's powers or maybe it be power of any other god, ultimately its useless if I can't use it at will.
My current body already felt like I was an enhanced human, like the likes of Captain America. However, with fatigue from earlier exercise, I was performing no better than a novice in front of the seasoned knight in front of me.
I quickly created some distance, deflecting a few jabs he sent my way before he closed in again, going for my exposed side. I turned and swung my hammer to intercept the sword.
Only to feel his hand grab my long hair and yank me close before he drove his armoured knee into my gut and threw me back. I managed to keep my balance, but I was more surprised at how he moved than anything else.
"Yeah, get him!" Joffrey mocked from the sidelines, grinning. Clegane simply stood still, watching me.
"Don't touch my hair." The words left my mouth before I even realised it. A strange surge of anger flared within me at the thought of my hair being touched.
The Hound came again, swinging from the side. This time, I wasn't going to just defend.
Not holding back, I swung Mjolnir.
"Zaaaak!"
A metallic clang rang through the air, and before either of us knew it, Clegane's sword was shattered in two, sent flying out of his hands as he stumbled back, shock clearly written across his face.
That should have been where the match ended, but my body moved on its own. With my right swing, I had created the perfect momentum to bring my hammer to the left. Now, gripping Mjolnir with both hands, I followed through with a powerful swing, striking him directly in the chest.
"DUmm…"
The entire breastplate crumpled inward as Clegane was lifted a few inches off the ground before crashing down with a thud. His chest plate was crushed, and he immediately lost consciousness. The sheer force of the impact had sent him flying nearly half a meter back before he hit the ground.
The murmurs stopped. The prince was gaping at what had just happened.
I wasn't any better.
Slowly, my eyes shifted from the fallen man to the hammer in my hands. It still felt easy to lift, its weight perfect. But suddenly, it felt like I was holding a mountain.
I look at my own hands, trying to feel that feeling from earlier again. That power, that sudden jolt of strength which came to me out of nowhere.
However, just as before. It went away. Like it never existed. Leaving me standing there with fustrated.
'How the hell this power works exactly ?'
"What are you all looking at? Call for the Maester," I spoke before turning to leave—though not before reminding our dear, stupid little prince of our wager and what could possibly go wrong if he didn't deliver. A little healthy dose of threatening never hurts anyone.
More importantly, I now had a certain idea of where I stood in terms of power. I was indeed similar to Cap, an enhanced human.
If not for my inexperience and fatigue from earlier, I could have easily taken down Sandor.
But, that last attack. That power was different. It wasn't just my body being strong. No, that power was internal.
That was Thor's real power. At least a fraction of it.
And I can't seem to get how this power works. Period.
While I had used my full strength with one hand to break his sword, I had held back when I struck his chest, even with both hands.
I didn't want to kill him. Out of all the characters in Game of Thrones, Sandor Clegane was one of the more decent ones. Yeah, he had done bad things, but ultimately, he could be considered good overall.
But, by no means was that the full capabilities of my power. Far from it.
This was just a sparing match; however, if I wish to live in this world. I need power.
Next time I very well be swing my hammer to kill my opponent. In time like those, I can't rely on chances like this.
I need to learn how to use Thor's divine power. Fast !
It was surprising how easily I thought about killing someone when I had never done so before. But I spoke like this because I had Thor's memories. He had done it so many times that I felt like I could do it just as easily, without hesitation.
Is that a good thing, or should I be concerned? I had no idea.