The night was as deep as water.
Moonlight from outside filtered through the thin gauze curtains, casting mottled shadows across the soft carpet of the room.
Arthas lay on the bed, which felt a bit too wide for him, listening to the occasional sound of waves and the song of nightingales from outside the window.
Arthas reached out a small hand and placed it over his chest.
That strange thumping sensation, which had persisted since he was on the Bifrost Bridge, was something he simply couldn’t ignore.
That power…
is it really Father’s thunder?
Everyone said it was, even Hippolyta, the Queen who seemed to know everything.
However, as the master of this body, Arthas had a completely different intuition.
That intuition told him that things weren’t that simple.
Arthas closed his eyes, no longer thinking about the dazzling world outside, but instead focusing all his attention on the interior of his own body.
This was the “Meditation” that Mother Frigga had taught him.
Although Thor would fall asleep and snore during every Meditation class, Arthas was a top student who received full marks every time.
As his breathing gradually became steady and deep, the surrounding world seemed to vanish.
The clamor faded away, replaced by an internal space that belonged only to him.
There, he saw that mass of energy that had been dormant deep within his soul, only to completely erupt today.
It wasn’t a mass of chaotic and violent thunderclouds.
Nor was it the kind of destructive energy that would explode upon contact.
It was a mass of light.
A mass of golden light so pure it was as if all the warmth and hope in the world had been condensed within it.
It flowed quietly through his veins like golden magma, yet it wasn’t scalding; instead, it carried a reassuring temperature.
Is this…
my divine power?
Arthas asked softly in his heart.
He tried to touch that mass of light.
There was no resistance, nor any backlash.
The light seemed to recognize him, or rather, it was originally a part of him.
The moment his consciousness touched the light, a wonderful resonance occurred.
He felt as if he had become a rising sun.
That power possessed both the warmth and mercy to dispel all darkness, and a hidden, terrifying pressure capable of incinerating all sin.
This didn’t seem like simple thunder; thunder only destroys.
This was more like…
judgment?
Or…
salvation?
Arthas’s small head couldn’t yet accurately define such grand concepts; he could only use his limited vocabulary to describe it— It was the “Dawn,” and also “Divine Punishment.” Let’s see if I can control it.
Once this thought emerged, it could no longer be suppressed.
Arthas opened his eyes, pulled his right hand out from under the covers, and held it up in the air.
He took a deep breath, recalling the feeling from his Meditation, and tried to guide the flowing golden current within his body.
“Come out a little bit…
just a little bit, okay?” He spoke to himself in his heart as if coaxing a child.
Something magical happened.
That power was incredibly obedient.
With a shift of his will, a tiny sliver of golden light traveled down his arm to his fingertip.
Pop.
A very faint sound.
A golden speck of light, only the size of a grain of rice, condensed at the tip of his index finger.
It wasn’t dazzling; it was as soft as a golden pearl.
But the moment it appeared, the darkness in the entire room seemed to be dispelled by some invisible force.
The light wasn’t intense, yet it had a presence that couldn’t be ignored.
Arthas looked at the tiny speck of light on his fingertip, his eyes full of wonder.
He reached out his left hand and gently poked the speck of light.
It had no physical form, but his fingertip felt a tingling sensation.
As his thoughts changed, the speck of light began to transform.
One moment it became a little star, the next a little moon, and finally, it even turned into a miniature hammer—an imitation of that “Mjolnir” Thor was always talking about.
“This is way too obedient…” Arthas couldn’t help but mutter.
Although he was young, he knew what this meant.
In Asgard, even for those warriors who had trained for hundreds of years, controlling their divine power to manifest externally and transform it at will was an extremely difficult task.
Let alone doing it to this extent when his awakening hadn’t even been half a day ago and no one had taught him.
If that idiot Thor saw this, he’d probably go crying to Father to complain again.
If Uncle Heimdall saw this, his eyes would probably pop out.
Arthas thought somewhat narcissistically, a smug smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
It seems the fact that I’m a genius is truly set in stone.
However, just as Arthas was immersed in self-intoxication over his talent…
He suddenly discovered that beneath that mass of pure golden divine power, something else seemed to be hidden.
It was a very secretive, very weak fluctuation.
If his mental focus wasn’t so high right now, and if his control over this golden divine power wasn’t ridiculously high, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it at all.
Is that…
a touch of pink?
Arthas was stunned for a moment.
Deep within the golden ocean, that touch of pink seemed so out of place, yet it was exceptionally harmoniously intertwined with the gold.
It was like…
like a rose petal falling onto gold.
What is this?
Is there pink in Father’s divine power?
Arthas scratched his head, indicating he had never heard of such a thing.
Odin’s divine power was golden, Thor’s unawakened power was said to be bluish lightning, and Loki’s magic was green.
Where did this pink come from?
Did it mutate?
Driven by intense curiosity, Arthas cautiously separated a thread of consciousness to touch that mass of pink energy.
The moment they made contact…
There was no aggression, nor was there that grand pressure.
An extremely soft, extremely sweet emotion instantly flooded his mind.
It felt as if he were surrounded by countless flowers, or as if he were being held in the gentlest embrace.
Immediately after, a name, or rather a concept, surfaced naturally in his heart— [Echo of Love].
No one had told him this; it was like an instinct engraved in his soul, a memory fragment that had awakened along with this power.
“Echo of Love…?” Arthas muttered the name in a small voice, looking completely bewildered.
“It sounds…
like I’m supposed to fall in love or something?” “But I haven’t even grown up yet…” “And this name isn’t imposing at all; it’s far worse than ‘Mighty Thunder’ or ‘Light of Destruction.'” Arthas curled his lip, expressing a bit of disdain for this somewhat effeminate name.
But he still tried to mobilize this power.
However, this time, he hit a wall.
Although that pink power didn’t reject him, it completely ignored his commands.
No matter how hard he tried, that mass of pink remained as if asleep, lazily lying beneath the golden divine power, motionless.
“Hey!
Wake up!” Arthas got a little anxious and poked it with his will.
No reaction.
“Give me some face, will you?” Still no reaction.
Forget using it for combat; he couldn’t even make it pop out and shine like that golden speck just now.
What on earth is the use of this?
Is it just a pure decoration?
To dye my divine power?
Arthas lowered his hand, feeling a bit discouraged.
This thing looked nice, but it was a completely “useless” skill.
In Asgard, where martial prowess was revered, this kind of power that couldn’t be used for fighting would be laughed at.
Unwilling to give up, Arthas began to replay everything that happened today in his mind.
He tried to find the trigger mechanism for this power.
If it existed, it must be useful.
This was the basic logic of a top student.
He closed his eyes, recalling every detail like a movie.
On the Bifrost Bridge, there was only golden light, no pink.
During the teleportation process, it was also a golden protective shield.
Until…
until he fell at the edge of the cliff and saw that Big Sister Diana rushing over with a sword.
At that moment, besides the amazement and sense of familiarity, he seemed to feel that mass of power in his chest skip a beat?
Yes!
That was it!
That dormant pink power seemed to have woken up because it saw Big Sister Diana!
Then when he shouted “Mommy,” that power fluctuated even more violently.
And then…
in the marketplace?
No, although those sisters in the marketplace were very enthusiastic, the pink power didn’t seem to react.
Until he saw that Queen Majesty named Hippolyta in the palace hall.
That power skipped a beat again.
Although it wasn’t as strong as when he saw Big Sister Diana, there was definitely a reaction.
Arthas snapped his eyes open, as if he had discovered a new continent.
Could it be…
this power is a shallow judge of looks?
It only reacts to particularly beautiful sisters?
Or does it only react to these two sisters?
He scratched his hair in confusion.
Although he didn’t know what this power was or what use it had, let alone that it originated from the power left behind by his biological mother, Aphrodite.
But he had vaguely grasped the key point.
This power seemed to be related to “people.” Especially those…
people he found very beautiful and wanted to be close to.
“Big Sister Diana…
Big Sister Hippolyta…” Arthas softly murmured these two names.
That pink power seemed to sense his thoughts and trembled slightly again, as if responding to him.
The feeling was very faint, but it carried an inexplicable joy.
“So strange…” Arthas rolled over and buried his face in the soft pillow.
“I’ve never heard of anyone in Asgard having this kind of power.” “Mother Frigga has magic, and Father has thunder and wisdom.” “Could I have had a genetic mutation?” “Or…
is this some kind of hidden ultimate move?” Arthas’s little brain was filled with all sorts of wild guesses.
But no matter how he guessed, he couldn’t guess the truth.
After all, who could have imagined that the bearded, fierce-looking Odin could have a child with the stunningly beautiful Goddess of Love?
The gap was simply too large; even the most imaginative bard couldn’t spin such a tale.
He studied it for a long time but couldn’t figure anything out.
After “responding” to him once, that pink power fell back into a deep sleep, quietly staying under the protection of the golden divine power like a well-behaved baby.
On the other hand, that golden divine power continuously radiated that warm aura.
It flowed through Arthas’s meridians to his entire body, washing away the fatigue and tension of the whole day.
The sensation was as comfortable as being soaked in warm water.
Sleepiness surged in like a tide.
Arthas gave a big yawn, his eyelids beginning to droop.
Forget it…
if I can’t figure it out, I won’t think about it.
Anyway, I’m a genius; I’ll figure it out eventually.
The current task is to sleep…
tomorrow Big Sister Diana is going to take me to eat delicious food…
he thought dizzily in his heart.
The golden speck of light that had been hovering at his fingertip didn’t dissipate.
Instead, the moment his consciousness blurred, it automatically detached from his fingertip and slowly floated into the air.
Like a thoughtful nightlight, it hovered at the bedside, emitting a soft and tranquil glow.
Within the glow, there seemed to be a faint trace of pink aura circulating, like some kind of protection, or perhaps a blessing.
Arthas’s breathing gradually became even and deep.
A sweet smile played on his delicate little face, with a trace of crystal-clear saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth.
He was probably eating that honey-glazed roast meat again in his dream.
On this unfamiliar island, on this night filled with the unknown.
This little prince with a bizarre background entered a sweet dreamland, wrapped in his unique and mysterious divine power.
In the dream, there was no conflict, no Divine Punishment.
Only endless light, and those gentle echoes of love that seemed to come from ancient times.