Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 719 Violent Negotiation (Part 2) Mad Goddess

This power armor wasn't the black armor Salomon had prepared for low-intensity warfare. Instead, it was forged from dwarven plates, combined with a servo system personally crafted by Malbus using a large amount of precious materials and alien technology. It was a powerful power armor capable of balancing melee combat and spellcasting power. The thick, golden armor was covered with faintly visible runes. The Uru metal armor, forged from high technology and magic, was indestructible. The vibranium-forged electronic muscle coils conformed perfectly to the body, and the soft, mysterious alien material completely prevented friction damage to the wearer during combat.

Even more powerful is the magical effect created by the gems embedded in the armor, integrating the pinnacle of technology and magic into this suit of armor. This is a powered armor designed for war, lacking the flashy streamlined structure and intricate layering design of Stark's Iron Man suit. The thick armor, astonishing weight, and high-powered drive motor are all designed to take lives.

Numerous invisible servants moved the breastplate, inserting neural probes from the armor into pre-installed surgical interfaces. The sorcerer couldn't help but wince at the resulting stinging pain; this neuropathic pain was unavoidable. His neural electrical signals were captured by the probes and then converted into commands for the servo system, directing the electronic muscle coils to contract and relax in sync with his muscles. Salomon, now clad in the armor, appeared even taller than before. The robes he had previously removed, the saffron cloth, were now draped over the armor before the shoulder armor was secured, transforming into a deep red armored cloak and cape. The energy system was activated, and the air in the chamber immediately became stuffy due to the heat vents. However, heat dissipation was a minor issue; the spells the sorcerer had secured within the energy conduits were triggered one by one, lowering the temperature again. He tested the operation of the electronic muscle coils in each of his limbs, checking the servo systems of his joints for malfunctions via the port cables connected to the armor.

Cassirios curiously circled Salomon a few times.

How much do you weigh now?

"Uru metal is quite heavy by weight, not to mention the life support system. See this interface? This thing can directly inject the medicine into my body." As the airtightness process of the armor was gradually completed, all the interfaces connecting the data lines and cables were closed one after another, leaving behind a pile of various cables wrapped in black rubber and several computers responsible for checking the program and debugging the hardware.

"I have no idea when you came up with all this stuff." Cassirios looked at the messy computers on the table, his tone full of感慨 (a complex feeling of mixed emotions, including admiration and awe), but Salomon didn't immediately understand his thoughts. When he finally realized, he could only purse his lips to avoid saying anything sentimental. "Are you planning to wear this armor to the banquet?" Cassirios asked. "If so, Loki won't give you a chance to sneak out of the Golden Palace."

"I will use illusion magic. Whether Loki can see through it or not, he won't stop me."

Salomon sheathed the holy sword at his waist, and slung the holy lance and shield over his back, securing them firmly with magnetic clasps. In addition, Malbus provided him with a special pistol, granting him long-range shooting capabilities. He picked up the helmet with his gauntlet-encased hand and took heavy steps outside. Thanks to the servo system, the armor didn't even feel like an obstacle; he moved as lightly as if wearing a thin garment, yet the weight of the armor didn't disappear.

"Besides, I have other things to do at the banquet."

"etc!"

"What's wrong?"

"I just want to tell you... watch out for doorframes, my child." Cassirios tossed the grey cloak to Salomon. "It's never a bad thing to be disguised."

"You're right, Dad."

The skeleton beneath the throne removed its own head and placed it on someone else's neck. The little skeleton patted its own head, seemingly still not understanding what was happening. The male servant named Slowpoke and the female servant named Slowpoke stared wide-eyed, as if still amazed by this trick that had been repeated for thousands of years.

"You should be surprised, this is Helheim's finest circus, I had to use three swords to get them! You two foolish servants, you should..." The laughter of the Goddess of Death echoed through the palace filled with corpses, frantically seeping into every crack of the obsidian bricks. The male and female servants did not react; they merely nodded mechanically, their necks creaking unbearably in response to their master's words—yet even these reactions were manipulated by the Goddess of Death herself; her servants were long dead, well-preserved mummies. Through the skylight of the hall, somber light slowly pierced through the planet's thick clouds, staggering into the obsidian palace burning with a ghastly green flame, illuminating the traces left by the last battle.

She abruptly stopped reprimanding the servants and carefully observed the swaying skeleton beneath the throne.

"Oh, it's you, my old friend!" Hela rose from the Throne of Thorns, dramatically twirling a few times with the joy of a long-awaited reunion, "My dear Valkyries, I never imagined you'd join the circus! Hey, I recognize this sword mark, let me guess... Brunhilde, is this your head? How did it end up in that lowly commoner's hands... You haven't fallen for another lowly commoner, have you? Have you forgotten how furious Odin was about this? I wanted to support you, my former comrade-in-arms..."

She suddenly stopped, feeling that everything around her was so dull and meaningless.

"Yet I still killed you. What a pity, we could have been best friends." Bored, she sat back down on the high-backed throne made of countless black swords, their sharp edges constantly cutting into her body. She felt a strange pleasure in the pain. Over the centuries, with the passage of time, the number of swords on the throne increased, and the pain became more intense.

For her, the increasingly intense pain was the best way to stay conscious.

She couldn't help but reminisce about the powerful warrior who had suddenly appeared and vanished before the Winter of Mist. It was the most fascinating thing she had experienced in the thousands of years since being imprisoned in this world of death; the fierce battle uncontrollably brought back memories of her past conquests. Although she was completely powerless to defeat that warrior due to being stripped of her power, the proud Goddess of Death believed she could overcome that mortal through countless battles; her previous defeat was merely a concession she made to experience pain. After the warrior disappeared, she fell into a state of anticipation, hoping he would return to this world to fight her. She even prepared more weapons for this—she began commanding the foolish skeletons to wield swords, form formations, and direct the endless hordes of corpses as they roared across the canyons, plains, and mountains of this world of death.

However, it wasn't long before she grew tired of this war without any opponents; the silly skeleton tricks only made her more and more bored.

She began to mutter curses under her breath, then slumped dejectedly onto the throne, enjoying the company and the long, deathly silence.

In the early days of her imprisonment, she unleashed her fury, destroying everything on the planet that could be destroyed. But now, she will only let her anger burn silently within her, awaiting her destined moment of release, when that long-suppressed rage will consume the entire world.

She will rebuild her empire from the smoldering gray ruins.

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)