Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 950 The Perfect Creature (Second Update)

"You know more than I thought. But let me reiterate..."

“Those who believe do not need to know what they believe in; they only need to believe.” Victor von Doom’s dark green cloak billowed in the cold wind blowing from the snow-covered mountains of Norway. He insisted on coming with Salomon, claiming it was to prevent Salomon from causing any trouble and delaying the liberation of Latvia. “The stigmata is just such a vessel. Do you think I don’t know about Father Morru’s experiments during Mass in the Alpine monastery? Do you think I don’t know about your experiments with the Spirit of Vengeance?” he said. “I know who you are. His Holiness has very detailed records and speculations about your birth.”

"That's not me, Victor. I am human, not anything that others worship."

"I don't deny it, but you understand that your power far surpasses that of humans. You might be... the final stage of human evolution, or even the final form of all life in the universe, the most perfect genetically engineered product of the Celestials. Otherwise, the Venerable One wouldn't have gone to such lengths to take you in, would he?" Victor von Doom shrugged. "You are the most outstanding arcane mage in the history of Kamar-Taj, and also a master of combat. I've seen your training with Mordo. From the age of ten, you've always yielded to him to avoid hurting his fragile ego. Acting like a god, that's why so many people are willing to follow you; their hearts are too fragile, they need psychological support. And now, you've entered the apocalypse of another god, and you are that apocalypse."

“This is our difference of opinion. I remain attached to my human identity, and nothing else.” Salomon stood on the rock overlooking the town's fjord, the dark waters lying calmly on the pebble beach. Thousands of years ago, those skinny Vikings launched their longships from here, setting sail for Britain to wreak havoc and plunder. Sunlight reflected off the glacier, casting a chilling breeze on Salomon's hair. Salomon shook his head. “I never knew you were so superstitious. Are we here to visit this land of Ragnarok, or to discuss my identity?”

The scene reflected in Viktor von Doom's eyes behind his iron mask was not so peaceful and serene.

He saw a strong man, shirtless, with gray wolf pelts draped over his shoulders, his body covered in foul-smelling blood and filth, pure and extreme violence flowing from him. At his feet lay the corpses of grotesque creatures. His hair was braided at his ears, and his beard was parted into three strands, greasy blood seeping into his hair. The howling sea wind whipped his hair, dried pus and blood falling and being blown away like dust. He brandished his giant axe and roared at the wooden village below, while lightning pierced the accumulated gray clouds, stretching from distant glaciers to the fjord.

Below, in the darkness shrouded by the canyon, clusters of firelight blazed. Many warriors, clad in black armor and burning with the flames of vengeance, stood silently, their armor scarred as if they had just survived a great battle. Beneath their blood-red visors were pairs of empty eyes, devoid of anything but flames. The darkness was banished by thunder and roars; the blazing flames and sharp axes terrified the unseen malice behind the veil, driving away the monsters lurking in the night for the creatures of the tangible world.

Then he saw a man in golden armor and a golden crown standing on a rock, gazing calmly into the distance. His long, obsidian-black hair was slightly curly, and he exuded the scent of incense and roses. Any creature in the Sea of ​​Souls that tried to approach him was melted by his intense light. Behind him stood countless winged warriors in golden armor, their light even stronger than the sun. The light emanating from the leading man was ten thousand times stronger, like a sun walking among humans, dispelling the cold without being blinding.

Besides these, there were various other illusions, but these were things Salomon couldn't see, and he had no interest in seeing them.

Because he now stood in that very spot, those figures overlapped with him, as if four-dimensional space were looking down upon three-dimensional space, stretching time into a single line. This line contracted at an incredibly rapid pace, and the net of light formed by the movement of stars in the sky began to replace the sun's rays. With each glance from Viktor von Doom, the image changed completely, and the people accompanying him also changed. He appeared when the world was sustained by bloody sacrifices. He appeared when truth became folly, death and destruction following in his footsteps, his feet paved with blood and corpses, as well as thrones and palaces.

This is both the past and the future, a small part of his long journey.

“You can be anyone, it’s up to you.” Victor von Doom blinked one last time. The line almost completely contracted, and Salomon transformed into what he now saw. As the last illusion overlapped with Salomon, Victor von Doom saw Salomon tilt his head, as if listening to him. “This is the place of beginning and end. The Kinggarten Abyss is here, and the roots of the World Tree, gnawed by the poisonous dragons, are here too. If you truly intend to replace the Aesir, you can cross this rock now.”

Salomon glanced at him, then walked over.

Viktor von Doom smiled.

Although no one could see his expression, his eyes still conveyed a joyful mood. He followed Salomon's footsteps into the mountain path beside the town of Edda, heading towards the glacier-covered ridge. According to the records of the Kamar-Taj Library, this town had a road leading to the palace of Nilfhheim, the abode of the goddess of death, Hela. Although that road had been sealed off thousands of years ago, the legend remained in local folklore, and every student in the town learned the story from their textbooks; they all knew that a root of the World Tree once led to Nilfhheim.

To the mystics who studied at Kamar-Taj, this meant something else entirely. It meant there was a main entrance to a rainbow bridge, not some extremely bumpy, fragmented aerial root.

"The Asgardians were an attempt at human evolution, and it turns out their evolutionary path was flawed." Salomon stood on the slippery glacier, overlooking the town. Before them lay a cave covered by the glacier, the sharp rocks gradually becoming smooth from the erosion of the ice and snow. The sound of ice and rock shattering as the glacier moved was incessant, as if a bolt of lightning, darting left and right, was trapped inside the mountain, making one worry that it might shatter the rocks and fly into the sky at any moment.

"Ragnarok will inevitably come, and from now on, we alone can protect the human race. But I believe humanity can learn enough from the destruction of Asgard, and as the successors of the Asgardians, we will do even better than them. In the distant future, when countless races in the universe think of the word 'god,' they will only think of humanity, not Asgard." He spoke in a rational, even cold-blooded voice. "Victor von Doom, this is my ultimate ideal. To bury the past and let the saplings grow into towering trees on the grave, eventually bearing magnificent fruit. In this process, we must prune away the poisonous branches and kill the uninvited pests. Even if this is somewhat cruel, I need you to complete this task. In return, you will see the world you desire, or rather, the world we all desire."

"So what do you plan to do?"

"Of course, we need to dig a hole first." Salomon's expression became more lively at this point. "Since there's going to be a grave, the coffin must be nailed shut. Resurrection isn't a good thing, is it? It just so happens that I've had a little conversation with someone who wants Asgard to die out completely."

Please vote for me!

(End of this chapter)