Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 340 Blood Debt (First Update)

Phoenix's flattery was somewhat awkward, even though it was a genuine boast about Salomon's predecessor's achievements; it was still hard for him to accept. Salomon deftly shifted the topic to taking stock of his spellcasting materials. Phoenix knew everything about the contents of his dimensional bag and had the authority to open the magical lock on it.

"One tube of live spiders is missing, only a few small spider legs are left," it said. "But I'm not sure if your pet cat took them, since you haven't fed those live spiders in a long time since you stopped using them. I remember you used to keep the spiders with sketches of alchemical dolls..."

"So, the parchments weren't in the dimensional bag not because they were lost, but because I forgot to take them out of the study, is that right?" Salomon took a deep breath. Although most of the burnt smell in Asgard had dissipated, a small portion still entered his lungs—just like his mood, he felt as if he could smell the burning of his heart.

“Yes.” Phoenix nodded with a relaxed tone. “I don’t think you need to worry about the attitude of those two witches. After all, for someone of your status, having several concubines would be a piece of cake, even if those two witches have a relationship with Beech (Queen of Sheba)…”

Phoenix…

"Hmm?" It tilted its head, its long feathers swaying.

"Shut up, at least don't say that in front of a witch."

"But they're not here, my Lord," Phoenix muttered, somewhat worried about its master's mental state.

"That won't work either."

Sif entered Salomon's room carrying a large platter containing fruit and meat. Considerately remembering that there had been no feast after the funeral and that she hadn't seen the mystic at the tavern, Sif assumed Salomon must be hungry and in need of food.

Volstagg and Fandral followed behind her, though they didn't look as imposing as usual. After the sorcerer gestured for them to sit, even Volstagg didn't touch the meat on his plate. They resembled a few filthy stray dogs, their armor bearing the marks of earlier battles.

"Thor went to the dungeons." After a while, Sif spoke first. "He told Loki about the Queen of the Goddesses, and he wants Loki's help... Thor hopes that you and Loki can temporarily put aside your grudges from Midgard and join forces against the Dark Elves. He originally wanted to come and tell you in person, but he can't leave right now..."

"Just agree already, stop whining like a woman..." Volstagg was completely unaware that his words drew glares from everyone present. He scratched his unkempt red beard, and dried blood from the Dark Elf soldiers drifted down like dust from his carelessly groomed mane, soiling the floor the Asgardian maidens had cleaned. "Avenging the Queen is the most important thing," he said. "I see you're a warrior, you should understand how important this is. If you have a score to settle with Loki, you can settle it one-on-one after that battle. I promise you, I won't tell anyone. If Loki dies at your hands, even if the Allfather asks me, I'll say Loki died at the hands of the Dark Elves. How about it? If you help me, I, Volstagg, will owe you a favor, and then what do you want me to do..."

"Alright, you glutton, we're here to discuss tactics." Fandral quickly covered Volstagg's mouth, then released it with obvious disgust. He wiped his hands on his clothes—Volstagg's beard was full of all sorts of things, not just dark elf blood, but also… was that butter?

Lying to the Allfather is tantamount to treason, and given Volstagg's reckless nature, he might actually lie to repay a favor. The still somewhat rational Fandral quickly interrupted Volstagg's increasingly outrageous promises; otherwise, it would be disastrous if Salomon actually made demands or if either the wizard or Loki were to die. He didn't want Asgard to break with its allies in Midgard.

At least not now. He'd recently come across a lot of Asgard's secrets. After Frigga's death, the Allfather was handing over some administrative duties to the new generation of gods, Fandral and Sif being the most knowledgeable. Asgard's secrets were far more numerous than he'd imagined, but only someone like Volstagg, who only knew how to eat and fight, didn't care at all.

"I agree," the sorcerer said expressionlessly. "Loki has already paid the price; Asgard only needs to send an official letter. This matter has dragged on for so long without being resolved. Sif, why don't you find Heimdall (Sif and Heimdall are siblings) and have him issue a certificate—proof that Loki has been sentenced to life imprisonment. After this, Loki must return to the dungeon, so I can explain things to Kamar-Taj."

"I will," Sif nodded. "If it weren't for the Dark Elf invasion, this matter could have been resolved quickly. Now we need to talk about the Aether... Here, apart from the Allfather, probably no one understands the Aether better than you, the wizard... The Great God needs time to grieve, and we dare not disturb the Allfather, so we can only come to you."

"Alright, listen up." Salomon immediately switched into lecture mode, "Regarding the Aether particle, the role of the fifth fictional element..."

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"Aren't you really sad, Loki?" Thor stood before the dungeon's barrier, his tone somber, a stark contrast to his demeanor before the throne steps. Although the body had been removed, the smell of blood lingered in the dungeon, and his only listener seemed indifferent. "She was your mother too," Thor said, glancing at Loki, who still had his back to him. "If you have anything to say, you can have the guards inform me… You know, we're family."

"Perhaps." Even though the dungeon room was well-lit, when Loki turned around, Thor saw a lingering shadow on his brother's face, like a thin, pale black veil. "You can leave now," Loki said coldly. "This place is none of your concern, future King of Asgard. I'm just a lowly prisoner..."

"Loki!" Thor's roar exploded like thunder. "She's your mother! Don't you have even a shred of love for her in your heart?"

"So what?" A light laugh rang out, as flippant and grating as Loki's usual laugh after a prank. The god of mischief approached, hands behind his back, and Thor clearly saw Loki's face. The shadow had vanished—though his face was full of smiles, the tear tracks reflected the light, starkly visible. "What can I do here, dear brother? You should know I'm a prisoner now."

"You can take revenge."

"Me?" Loki seemed to have heard something hilarious. He pounded on the dungeon barrier and burst into hysterical laughter. He laughed so hard he bent over, coughing incessantly. "Cough cough... Cursing dark elves in a cell? I've never learned curses, unless you let me..."

"No, Loki," Thor said calmly, "it's the way of a warrior, the way of the son of Frigga."

"What?"

"so."

Thor slammed Mjolnir down onto the dungeon barrier, shattering the light with terrifying force. Loki's eyes widened in disbelief; he couldn't believe Thor had done such a thing. Thor grabbed Loki's hand—the illusion vanished, and the God of Mischief, his hair disheveled, sat in the corner of the cell.

"How was it? Wasn't it terrible?" The god of mischief, with his messy hair, laughed miserably. "Are you satisfied? The dungeon alarm has gone off. What are you going to do? Or are you just going to take me out like this?"

"At least your blood isn't cold yet." Thor glanced at him, strode forward, and pulled Loki to his feet. "I will plead with the Allfather, and you too must kneel. Just this once… You are Frigga's son, you have the right to revenge. Loki, let us avenge the Dark Elves!"

I had a slight fever, so the update is late. Sorry.

(End of this chapter)