Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1395 The Enchantress's Work (Part 2)

Mjolnir was swung with unparalleled force, and as it crashed down, the air at the tip of the hammer was ionized and compressed, creating a hurricane on the viewing platform of the Golden Palace. The Father of the Gods, who had been watching the performance with great interest, was immediately thrown from his chair. In the blink of an eye, Mjolnir had smashed the throne, made of precious and incredibly hard stone mined from the primordial realm of Muspelheim, to pieces. Instantly, a deafening roar, like a collapsing mountain, spread outwards as if it were a tangible reality. The towering golden walls then bounced the sound waves back, knocking all the guests present to the ground. Some of the weaker guests even began to vomit from the impact of the sound waves.

Thor pulled Mjolnir from the mountain of rubble, melting under the intense heat of the warhammer's surface, and then hurled it at the Allfather, who was trying to escape. Thick bolts of electricity emanated from Mjolnir's surface, scorching the stone floor with wild, dancing streaks. The observation deck, which had been bathed in the last rays of sunlight, suddenly darkened, as the blinding lightning erupting from Mjolnir crushed everything that tried to rival its brilliance; even the light cast by the stars could not withstand it.

Everyone present was stunned by the brutal scene. The autumn feast initiated by Aegir had been violently abruptly ended, with no hope of recovery. Beer brewed by the sea giants was spilled from the cauldrons Thor had once poured from the giants' land; smoking mead flowed across the ground, and flames began to engulf the carpets. Fresh salmon and beef bones were consumed by the spreading fire. Kvalsil, the wisest of the gods, whose veins flowed with the mead of poetry, slit his own veins, for he did not wish to witness such a horrific sight again after his rebirth.

Neither the Vanir nor the nobles of the Aesir had ever seen the Allfather so flustered. Neither the bloodthirsty kings of the battlefield nor the solemn and wise elders on the golden throne had ever seen the Allfather so distraught; even the most foolish among them could see the truth now.

If this person were truly the father of the gods, then Thor would never dare to do such a thing.

Even if Thor did that, the Allfather could still control Mjolnir.

Aside from a few fools who see this as a fight between father and son over the throne, and the Vanir nobleman whose arm was smashed by Mjolnir, even the stupid nobleman who was obsessed with serving the beautiful Aesir and Vanir girls before Thor's arrival could think of a name that represents evil.

An evil spirit, a terrifying evil spirit.

Mothers would use this name at the head of the bed to frighten children who refused to sleep obediently; fathers would whisper this ominous name before the fireplace, fearing the flames would carry their words to the evil spirit and bring disaster upon the family. Even brave and strong soldiers would spit on the ground after uttering the name to show that they would not allow any cunning or cowardly act to tarnish their honor, and then immediately pray to the Father of Gods, Thor, and Frey, carving talismans within reach to ward off evil spirits and their curses.

The name is Loki.

"My dear Thor..."

Before the evil spirit, now the Allfather, could shake off its mischievous grin, Mjolnir slammed into his face. A figure was sent flying uncontrollably from the towering observation deck of the Golden Palace, followed closely by another figure crackling with electricity, which caught up with the first and seized it. The evil spirit cried out in pain, his cheek bruised and swollen, his eyes bloodshot, and a large hand gripping his neck tightly. "Where is he!" Even the Asgardians outside the walls could hear Thor's roar, a voice filled with rage and grief, "You despicable beast, what have you done! You killed him!"

A sharp, desperate laugh accompanied the booming sound of a heavy object crashing to the ground.

Loki lay on the granite plaza, a large crater left by the impact, listlessly laughing as he looked up at the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the massive golden statues erected on either side of the plaza. They were statues of important figures from the Aesir and Vanir, from Buri and Bourne to Odin, from Frey and Frigga to the Valkyrie of Honor clad in her eagle-like robes—but his statue was conspicuously absent. Even with his aching body and Thor glaring angrily at him, Loki refused to give up the chance to smile, as if Mjolnir hitting his face would leave a laughingstock on the ground. The shame of his scheme being exposed didn't change his mood; shame wasn't Loki's way of life. He laughed as loudly as possible, mocking everyone.

"What are you laughing at, you cunning and despicable villain!" Thor grabbed him by the collar and yanked him out of the pit. He pressed the crackling Mjolnir against Loki's forehead, the heat emanating from the warhammer causing the latter to squint. "Tell me all your tricks, and I might spare your life out of consideration for the past!" Thor growled, barely containing his rage. "You're always so clever, Loki. You always invent useful things, you always bring joy to the dull court, but this time you've gone too far."

"I survived because I'm still useful," Loki said, staring intently into Thor's eyes. His furious roar nearly shattered Loki's eardrums, yet he continued to laugh, seemingly thrilled by his successful scheme. "Just like now, Odin won't kill me because I'm still useful. You won't kill me because I'm still useful! If I die, Asgard will become my crematorium. I curse you, I curse Odin, I curse all the Aesir!"

"Not this time, Loki."

Saul, panting, pulled a skinning knife from his waist.

He threw Loki to the ground, then placed Mjolnir on Loki's chest. No matter how much Loki struggled, it was futile; the latter couldn't resist the power of the spell to get up. Thor crouched down and roughly pressed Loki's forehead, brandishing a sharp skinning dagger in front of Loki's eyes—the knife was quite razor-sharp. Every Asgardian warrior carried a skinning dagger, specifically for processing their prey, either skinning or cutting facial features—Thor's dagger had recently been used to process Gullinbursti, a symbol of sunlight.

"This time I won't be as soft-hearted as before. Just like a snake's venom dripping on your face, I will inflict pain on you," he said. "I see the end, brother, we will all go to the underworld. Everyone."

Loki realized what he was about to do and began to scream in terror.

He tried to say something, but Thor wouldn't listen and even covered Loki's mouth.

The roar from the Golden Palace made the emperor stop, and the two imperial guards also stopped.

"Did you hear that?" the emperor asked. "That venomous scream."

“I heard nothing,” Amon said. “None of the power armor’s radars detected high-frequency human voices, my lord.”

"I did not bestow upon you the gift of a sixth sense, but that does not mean you will be blind." The Emperor shook his head. "Heimdall's request for our help is itself a terrible thing; a palace coup is taking place. That is related to our next move. Ragnarok is approaching, and the effects of Fimbulwinter leave me with no choice."

"Whom are we waiting for, my lord?" Hammurabi tugged at the grey cloak covering him. The Emperor and Amun were also dressed in heavy cloaks. These cloaks were garments made from cloth woven by the Emperor using magic. Amun and Hammurabi had seen the Emperor draw grey, smoky threads from the air and begin weaving, creating this powerful artifact in the blink of an eye.

Once cloaked, unless observed up close, few would notice the three men's imposing stature. However, subconsciously, everyone would avoid them to prevent blocking the Emperor and the Imperial Guard's path. Although lacking the relevant talent, the Imperial Guard's etymological knowledge allowed them to discern that the Emperor's incantation contained words such as "shading the sun" and "dark clouds."

"Is the importance of the objective so great that we need to disguise it?"

"Very important, Hammurabi." The Emperor took a few more steps and entered a small alley between the residential and commercial areas. There were many taverns here, filled with drunken, low-class bards, mercenaries from the Asgardian colonies who came here to make a living, and all sorts of other characters.

Amun pushed open the door of one of the taverns and let the Emperor in. The person the Emperor wanted to see was already waiting inside. Even the humblest commoner's tavern had a space for patrons to converse privately. For those who needed this service, the financial cost wasn't so important; privacy and security were what they needed. Amun and Hammurabi, one holding a guard's spear, punched and kicked their way through a path filled with bruises, blood, and broken bones until the Emperor entered the room (and refused their request to search it first). Only then did they stand at the door to perform their security duties, simultaneously displaying the dark muzzle of their guns to give the alien mercenaries, Asgardian demons, and drunkards who were trying to cause trouble a chance to sober up.

"My Lord." Lorelei lowered her head and kissed the iron-gray pinky ring on the Emperor's finger.

“I have completed the vast majority of the tasks you assigned me. You can obtain what you desire at Ragnarok,” she said to the cloaked figure. The tasks the Emperor had given her were extremely difficult, but she did not demand any reward for them, for in her relationship with the Emperor she had no right to make demands; everything the Emperor gave was a reward, whether it was pain or pleasure. “But without the help of the Kamar-Taj Embassy, ​​I could not have completed the tasks so smoothly.”

"Give me the list, and I will give them the rewards they deserve." His eyes, hidden behind the hood, were fixed on Lorelei. She seemed to sense his gaze, deliberately raising her head to reveal her long, swan-like neck. But the emperor's icy voice snapped her back to reality; as if an ice cube had been shoved into her veins, Lorelei almost jumped up. "Tell me about Hliskjálf in the Silver Hall. Tell me what you know."

Hliskjálf, the highest throne in the Silver Hall of the Golden Palace. The Golden Palace has many halls, but the most important is undoubtedly Valaskjálf (meaning the frame of the slain). This is a magnificent residence built and roofed with pure silver, upon which Hliskjálf resides. Whenever the Allfather sits on that highest throne, he can overlook the entire universe, examining every person and every event. The principles behind this are quite complex, but the Emperor believes his deductions are based on sound logic and arcane knowledge, further confirmed by the data tablets presented by Lorelei. His knowledge gained from poring over tens of thousands of dusty books in the Kamar-Taj Library has been validated; with this data to support him, he can proceed further with his plans.

“But… my lord.” Lorelei took a deep breath and voiced her concerns, “The technology to create Hliskjálf is still hidden in the library of Asgard. Although the Allfather has become extremely incompetent in recent years, certain people who keep secrets are still alive, and the weapons I make with money and women cannot break through those defenses.”

After saying this, she deliberately feigned fear and cautiously moved closer to the Emperor's cloak, then closed her eyes expectantly. She hadn't seen the Emperor for far too long; the passage of time as perceived by her consciousness was far more agonizing than the passage of time as perceived by her body. Moreover, Asgard was not a welcoming place for her; she had many enemies there.

This included Sif. Therefore, she faced the constant threat of arrest from the army and Heimdall while on her mission, hoping her adventure would bring her the rewards she deserved. She didn't care what the reward was; even returning to the dungeons of the Immortal City would be acceptable to her.

Sometimes she wondered if she was cursed, but the witches of Nornheim and the sorcerer witches of Vanaheim were certain that her soul was perfectly healthy.

"I understand," the Emperor replied calmly, continuing to peruse the data on the data panel. Although the data Lorelei had obtained was incomplete, he had still managed to glean the parameters he needed from some of the test data, such as the impact of activating the Rainbow Bridge on the real world and spectral analysis data. However, Asgardians often used archaic and poetic expressions when employing certain scientific terms, which frequently resulted in inaccuracies and easily led to misunderstandings.

"I allow you to return to Earth with me, and you will continue to work by my side." He said the words she most wanted to hear to Lorelei, and joy surged through her body like a snake. Only now did she realize that she had actually been holding her breath the whole time. "At Ragnarok, you will set foot on Asgard with me."

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(End of this chapter)