Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 352 Life and Death Intertwined (First Update)

Anger and excruciating pain, along with the black dagger, plunged into the gaps in his abdominal armor, piercing skin and muscle, and viciously drilling upwards. Salomon felt the dagger pierce his liver; the unbearable pain caused him to let out an uncontrollable cry, but the sound was crushed in his throat as shame and pain burrowed even deeper.

Overwhelmed by emotion, he quickly activated his Stigmata, even exceeding the safety threshold he had set for himself. The Kabbalah Essence ignited with a triumphant roar, golden flames once more overflowing from his eyes. The Goddess of Death saw a halo as dazzling as the sun gathering behind his head. Before Hela could even cry out, Salomon unleashed a monstrous roar, furious steam billowing from his grotesque dragon-headed helmet into the frigid air.

At that moment, in the cold mountains of Italy, a clergyman attending Mass suffered a large gash in his abdomen, blood splattering onto the benches and his crimson robes in the front row. But the other monks attending Mass paid no heed, remaining absorbed in their prayers. Then, similar wounds appeared on all the monks.

Moru still stood before the altar, basking in the warm light.

In the dark realm of death, Salomon released his shield and gripped his sword hilt with his other hand. He swung the holy sword like a hammer, striking the Goddess of Death, sending her crashing into the obsidian wall of the Hall of Bones. His speed was imperceptible; no one knew the force he used. All onlookers heard was the fleeting roar of his sword, a white cloud appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. Salomon pulled the dagger deeply embedded in his abdomen, crushing it along with the black dagger embedded in his shoulder armor. The severed artery miraculously healed, and the blood flowing into his abdominal cavity vanished.

He seemed to be the embodiment of rage and arrogance walking among men, while also being the embodiment of holiness and nobility, with angelic hymns and demonic roars accompanying his every declaration.

"You!" The dragon-wing thrusters shrieked, propelling him rapidly towards the Goddess of Death who had just crashed through the wall. The clash between the holy sword and the black sword was too fast to see; the silver-gold knight and the black-green Goddess of Death were engaged in a life-or-death struggle beyond the reach of mortals. Hela let out a triumphant roar of joy—this was exactly what she wanted. In this land of death, there was only death, only killing or being killed. She hadn't killed in a long time; a worthy opponent allowed her to vent the bitterness of thousands of years of imprisonment.

Salomon moved with incredible speed. His holy sword pierced Hela's body time and again, but when he withdrew it, the wounds seemed to vanish. He smashed the hard bones beneath Hela's seemingly slender limbs with his bare hands, but the twisted limbs instantly returned to their original state. Even though the Goddess of Death had lost most of her power, her immortality remained. Her wounds healed even faster than Salomon's; when Salomon severed her limbs, the severed parts would disappear in an instant and reappear where they belonged.

She was born amidst death; she is the representative of the Goddess of Eternal Silence in the Material Plane. There is no blood in her body, only the power of death and life flows within her.

The silver-gold knight delivered a powerful punch to the goddess of death's abdomen, then crushed Hela's kneecap and slammed her to the ground by the neck. Salomon turned to dodge a cluster of black swords, each as tall as a person, that sprang from the ground. Standing behind the kneeling, panting Hela, he used all his strength to plunge the holy sword straight into Hela's back.

The holy sword pierced her chest, its blade hammering into the obsidian like a nail, pinning the Goddess of Death to the cold ground reflecting a faint, dark green light. Salomon twisted the cluster of black swords on the ground, using them as nails to firmly pin Hela's limbs to the earth. Then he withdrew the holy sword and plunged several more black swords into Hela's chest.

He had no time to try to kill this immortal goddess; he could only restrict her movements in the most effective way possible. The goddess of death paid no heed to the several black swords embedded in her body; she was like a black rose blooming amidst a chaotic thicket of swords, the swords bringing her no pain, only immense pleasure.

She straightened her chest and let the black sword slice through her body.

"Let me see your face," she said in a low, frantic voice. "Let me see your face, warrior! You are not some Midgardian knight, tell me your name!"

Salomon hesitated for a moment, but then slowly let the armor plates covering his face recede. The ferocious silver-white dragon head disappeared, revealing a young, weary, and sweaty face. His eyes, gleaming with a golden light, made him appear much more mature and dignified than he looked, and the rising mist of heat shrouded him in mystery. "I am the disciple of the Lord of Mankind, the successor of the Sorcerer Supreme, the wielder of the Holy Sword and the Holy Lance, and the user of the Vishanti's secret arts," he said. "I am Salomon Messiah Damonnet Pendragon."

"You can't kill me!"

"I know."

"I've remembered your name! I am the King of Asgard, and your Queen!" The Goddess of Death revealed a cruel smile. "Even if you have the ability to leave this place, I will find you. When I emerge from this damned cage, it will be time for a fair duel between us. Then I will make you submit, Salomon! I, Hela, am your Queen!"

"It seems Hela likes him quite a bit." Queen Frigga stared wide-eyed at everything reflected in the water mirror. Although Salomon's methods were somewhat crude, the result pleased the Queen greatly. The Sorcerer Supreme let out a disdainful chuckle, causing the Queen to roll her eyes. "How are you going to get your disciple out?" the Queen asked. "Odin's cage cannot be opened now."

"Karmar-Taj once studied the Tesseract." The Sorcerer Supreme put down her fork. With a flick of her wrist, a silver-gold figure suddenly appeared in the cabin. Salomon screamed and smashed the cabin floor. Dust and golden specks flew everywhere, but they couldn't get past the spell the Sorcerer Supreme had cast.

"You have done well, my dear disciple," the Sorcerer Supreme said to Salomon, who had risen with a displeased expression. "Whether in battle or with the smoked salmon, you have done very well."

"Teacher, Queen." The arcane mage bowed, then slumped weakly into a chair at the dining table. He let out a long sigh and remained motionless. The dragon-wing thrusters, which had just been deactivated, sizzled against the chair, and a faint smell of burning wood rose from them. He was utterly exhausted. Two consecutive battles involving the activation of Holy Marks had drained his physical and mental strength. As for Malekith, he didn't care about him at all—the Dark Elf King's soul had been almost completely ground to dust by the Aether particles. If Thor still couldn't defeat him, he might as well support Hela's ascension to the throne.

The Sorcerer Supreme pushed a plate of smoked salmon toward Salomon, who lazily raised his head. The golden light in his eyes had vanished; he had returned to being an ordinary man, but unbeknownst to him, something had been permanently altered. Salomon clapped his hands lightly, and an invisible servant picked up a knife and fork to cut the fish for him, then fed it to his mouth.

"Why do you even need magic to eat?" The Sorcerer Supreme patted Salomon's sweaty head with disdain, then his expression grew even more disgusted. With a flick of his finger, all the sweat and dried blood on Salomon's body vanished instantly. Salomon merely managed a weak smile; he didn't argue but continued to be fed by the invisible servant.

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(End of this chapter)