GOT Thor Travelling

"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 behavior 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. At the rate things were going, it didn't seem like I would be able to speak with Ned Stark anytime soon. Benjen didn't even try yesterday, and even today, I hadn't heard any news from him.

So, I had to push matters on my own. To fulfill the first quest, I needed to expose the White Walkers to the Northern lords and the South.

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.

However, that process was slow, and it was the only reason I had come to Winterfell. Now was the time to make good use of that.

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.

At least it didn't hurt much. Level 1 or not, we were still talking about a god's body.

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 armored 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 realized 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.

'Was it the hammer, or was it my own strength? Perhaps both…' I couldn't say for sure, but one thing was clear.

From now on, I would never underestimate Level 1 again.

"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. 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.

Not to mention, killing him would have overcomplicated things for my plans.

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.

For now, I just knew one thing—I had to figure out exactly what my Level 1 body was capable of and how much of what had happened was my own strength versus Mjolnir's magic.