Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 350 The Skeleton Queen (First Update)

"Eric!" Jane Foster hid in a ruin, a safe haven from the aliens in their ghastly white masks and the Asgardian soldiers in their golden armor. It was one of the few places in Greenwich University where mortals could take refuge during this war. Her adorable intern, Darcy, whom she had hired and who was good for nothing but eating, and her intern's intern were huddled together with her.

When Jane Foster saw her mentor Eric fiddling with the instruments in his hands, she shouted in dissatisfaction, "Are you done yet?" Jane Foster never doubted her mentor's abilities. Although Eric Sullivan was a bit eccentric now, the facts had proven Eric Sullivan's correctness, a correctness that even Eric Sullivan running naked into Stonehenge could not deny.

She just wanted her mentor to act faster.

"Almost there!" The astrophysics professor, with his sparse white hair, continued to adjust the parameters of his instruments. According to Eric's theory, when the celestial bodies converge, the barriers between the nine realms will disappear, and the resulting physical phenomena will be extremely simple and clear. Any student who has received a junior high school physics education can guess that gravity will decrease at the point of celestial convergence, and this decrease in gravity will extend to the entire Greenwich, eventually causing London to disintegrate under the gravitational pull of other countries.

This was an absolute disaster. Eric's instruments could detect certain unseen gravitational anomalies (the most obvious ones were visible without detection; they had just seen two planes crash into the portal over Greenwich), and after something powerful revealed some esoteric information to him, Eric miraculously used these instruments to create something that could induce gravitational anomalies and negate the original phenomena.

"It's done!" Eric handed the device to the panicked Darcy and the composed Jane Foster. "Remember, set up the equipment according to the locations shown here." Dr. Eric Scharvig pointed to a signal-detecting device he had given to his student, then to the expanding circular portal in the clouds above London. "Don't take a single extra step, or you'll fall into another world and never get out. Worse still, nobody knows where you'll end up; you can't fly."

This statement also applies to Salomon.

The irritating hymns and demonic battle cries made him shake his head impatiently. Even though his wounds were slowly healing after the battle, the tingling and stinging pain through his armor was driving him crazy. He took a deep breath, still feeling the pain and smelling the blood in his lungs. In the last battle, his breastplate had been a prime target for the enemy (blunt weapons couldn't completely stop it).

[Analyzing the Portal] This spell's effect is fan-shaped and its range is only 60 feet. He walked and stopped, constantly casting spells to probe the portal's location. Even after finding it, he needed to cast another spell to determine the portal's destination. However, during celestial conjunctions, these portals could appear or disappear at any time—several times, just as he painstakingly found a portal and was about to cast a probe, the portal vanished without a trace.

Finally, he came up with a solution.

Salomon held up his phone, using the signal strength to determine the location of the portal to Earth. This was very risky, because it meant he couldn't determine if there were other portals on his path that would suck him in; the gravity of a planet was something he couldn't resist.

"So... this is your excuse?" The queen, seated high on her skeletal throne, chuckled disdainfully, but the dim light prevented Salomon from seeing her expression. "Midgard, I accept your excuse. Now you should kneel," the skeletal queen said. "You might want to know where you are, or you might want me to ask my name. Very well, then I'll answer those questions for you, exposing your short-lived race's barren brain to knowledge you could never access."

Without waiting for Salomon's reply, she patted the cold throne on her own.

Pointing to two withered skeletons, she said, "This is my male servant, named Slow. This is my female servant, named Slow." Then she puffed out her chest with boundless pride, "And I, the goddess of aging and disease, am the one who rules over old age and disease! I am the rightful heir of the Nine Realms! The goddess of death! The queen of Asgard! Your queen! Now, kneel down, be honored to meet your queen! Perhaps one day, you will stand beside me and witness me spread slaughter and death throughout the universe, and your skeleton will become my soldiers in this epic battle—the only use of your worthless life!"

After she proclaimed her title, the entire throne room fell silent once more. For a long time, no one spoke, and the atmosphere became awkward. "Now, kneel!" the skeletal queen, draped in a dark green cloak, repeated angrily. "Shouldn't you obey your queen's orders? Put down that toy you're holding!"

"I don't have time." Salomon walked out without looking back. "I have other things to do."

"Ha! Nothing can get you out of here. This is a trap and prison laid by that hypocritical Odin!" The Goddess of Death roared terrifyingly. "Damn Odin! I fought for him for years, and he repays me with imprisonment! The throne of Asgard belongs to me, not to that golden retriever still in diapers or that blue kitten he picked up! You damned mortal, do you hear me? Come back! You think I haven't tried? Even if we met, you wouldn't get out. Odin's magic is everywhere here! Don't force me to kill you, warrior!"

"Every spell has a counter; there is no perfect spell in the world." Salomon's pupils glowed with a soft blue light. His vision was filled with intricate and minute runic magic. The sheer number and complexity of this great spell rivaled that of a region's planetary defense system. Only Odin could cast such runic magic, but whether it was flawless was another matter entirely.

"You have a way out? Are you a wizard?" The Goddess of Death narrowed her long, narrow eyes. "If you can do it, I will grant you the privilege of living by my side."

"No, I can't," Salomon denied decisively. Hela wasn't surprised by this. She had a profound understanding of runic magic; her magic teachers were Odin and Frigga, and apart from them, there was no warrior or mage more powerful than her in all of Asgard—she was endowed with many powerful spells even before she was born, and she was Odin's most powerful weapon. It was precisely for this reason that she believed the throne belonged to her.

Hela, the goddess of death, was Asgard's business, Thor's business, and Salomon didn't want to get involved. What bothered him, however, was that he couldn't shake the feeling that his arrival in Helheim wasn't an accident. This thought made him look around with wide eyes, trying to find the person who had brought him here.

"It's alright, you can die later." The Goddess of Death relaxed, lazily sitting on her throne, toying with the skull of her servant. She said, "I want to hear about the state of the Nine Realms. Tell me, what will my future territory look like now? Answer on your knees!"

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)