Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 364 Anchor Point (First Update)

Salomon could swear on his life that he had absolutely no interest in Hela. Even if he drank the last drop of liquor in that little flask, got completely drunk and disoriented, and had his face licked by those two silly, furry giant wolves, he wouldn't change his mind.

Although Hela and witches may seem similar in personality, their motivations are worlds apart—witches lack the lust for power, while Hela is purely a power-driven being. Odin's teachings led Hela to understand the deepest logic of power, which is why she chooses the simplest and most brutal way to seize it, because it's the method she's most familiar with. She firmly believes that as long as she possesses swords and soldiers, she can conquer the entire universe.

Even now, Hela believes that the people of Asgard still remember her as Odin's eldest daughter and heir to the throne, that her deeds are still being sung by bards, and that everyone is hoping that she will come to save the extremely weakened Asgard.

However, Odin could not leave this loophole. With a large-scale brainwashing, a mission that was known to be fatal, and a cover-up under the guise of renovation, Odin completely erased Hela's name from Asgard, paving the way for Thor.

The cold-blooded acts committed during this period were countless, and those in the know even wondered if Odin's blood was as cold as the snow on the mountaintop. But if Salomon were in Odin's position, he believed he would have done the same.

This is similar to the thinking behind many founding monarchs who purged their meritorious officials. The existence of these officials stripped the ruler of his divine authority and power; they did not believe that rulers were born rulers. They believed that the monarch, sitting on the throne, possessed a certain power, and therefore often used this power to interfere in politics or even instigate rebellions.

Cleansing these people was something a king had to do, and Odin did just that.

This was the authority of the great god. Hela wasn't the first to be purged; before her, Bhar's subjects had also perished under Odin's spear. From that moment on, the golden throne was shrouded in the darkest shadow of the Nine Realms. Odin's presence upon it signified the spread of terror and power throughout the Nine Realms. Wherever his voice reached, war followed; wherever his spear struck, the blood of warriors and enemies stained the ground. Death and war were his names; every move he made exemplified the meaning of kingship and the bones beneath the throne. Every step he took was soaked in the blood of all living beings. From that time onward, no one in the Nine Realms dared to defy him.

That was also the period of Asgard's most glorious military achievements. Asgard not only conquered the Nine Realms, but also extended the authority of the Aesir to several galaxies beyond the Nine Realms, forcing countless cosmic empires to temporarily retreat. Although Odin later added the titles of poetry and wisdom to his reputation, anyone who dared to challenge his authority would experience the most terrifying side of the great god Odin.

However, this terrifying black shadow is now no different from an ordinary one-eyed old man.

As he poured wine for Salomon, he talked to himself about his plans for Hela. Now that Hela's escape from captivity was a foregone conclusion, Odin naturally prepared for what was to come. This included having Salomon appease Hela and prevent her from going to Asgard until Thor ascended the throne; if this plan failed, Odin also intended to have Salomon accompany Hela to Asgard, sit on the throne together, control Hela's behavior, and steer the war towards the enemy brought by fate, and so on.

But he rambled on and on, while Salomon was busy chugging down his drink and didn't listen to a word. Or rather, he did listen, which is why he was drinking to find an excuse to avoid answering—he couldn't just agree to something like that, otherwise the responsibility would be too great. Playing dumb was the simplest way to avoid it, just like what he was doing now.

The return of Queen Frigg saved Salomon. She knew what was going on the moment she saw the flask in the sorcerer's hand and his flushed face. When it came to court intrigue, Queen Frigg was far more adept than Odin. The Queen Frigg rolled her eyes at the Allfather, confiscated the magical flask, and then led the suddenly sober Salomon and two drooling gray wolves into the cabin, leaving the grumbling Odin outside to enjoy the Nordic chill.

"Pah! You little brat! A fox raised by an old fox." Odin spat on the ground. He had originally intended for Salomon to go to Asgard to meet the goddess of history, Saga, offer her mead, and listen to her recount legends. This was something the kings of Asgard did every day; the goddess of history, Saga, was the guarantee of the Aesir's lineage, and being able to hear her stories meant ascending to the pinnacle of Aesir power.

Perhaps Salomon had already guessed Odin's thoughts, which is why he pretended to be drunk beforehand, and then regained his senses as soon as Frigga arrived.

Odin, however, wasn't worried that Salomon would deviate from the plan. For beings of his caliber, death was merely a state of being; as long as he had a backup plan for resurrection, he could live on indefinitely. Even without resurrection, he could ensure the plan proceeded as he envisioned. Even if Salomon failed, he could guarantee Thor would receive what he deserved—Thor was the most gifted of the Aesir, and Odin firmly believed that with his help, Thor would become the most powerful, even stronger than Hela.

The Allfather hummed a tune as he rose from a patch of verdant grass, leaning on his cane, and swayed unsteadily toward the snow-capped mountains shrouded in dark clouds in the distance. He had made a pact with the Sorcerer Supreme; Salomon would become a worthy king—this was his guarantee.

----------

Now we're truly living together! Salomon thought to himself, lying in bed with his eyes open.

Living together means sharing a bed, not a sofa—that's practically a universal truth. He and the witch had long since passed the adjustment period of living together; their lifestyles were already in sync. It was only natural that they would get together after moving in together, and no one could stop that.

He grabbed the fat cat lying between him and Bayonetta and threw it aside, then wriggled toward the witch.

"Come here, my little kitty."

Bayonetta woke with a smile and instinctively hugged Salomon. Just like before, she held him tightly, as if he were still that child who might accidentally fall off the bed. Salomon believed there was a reason for his infatuation with Bayonetta; the warmth he felt in her was something Athena could never give him, and this insatiable thirst for that warmth was the anchor that held his humanity together. Everything here filled him with contentment, from the tiny dust particles suspended in the air to the sunlight creeping through the curtains, all reflecting his yearning for life.

He obediently pressed himself against the witch's body, feeling Bayonetta's perfume and body temperature, and closed his eyes again, letting the witch play with his newly grown black hair.

Joan of Arc has been sent away; she slept on the sofa yesterday.

"Boya, if you don't come home every single day after you go to university, I'll blow up your college!" Bayonetta whispered in his ear words that could serve as incriminating evidence. But Salomon still didn't open his eyes, instead moving a little closer to the witch. This made the witch laugh gleefully.

Please vote for me!

This chapter was delayed until now after its initial release; I'm so sad.

(End of this chapter)