Marvel Book of Magical Events

Chapter 1159 Journey to Valhalla (Part 1)

It wasn't until we walked out of the runes that the Nordic summer sea breeze hit our faces again. It was like walking out of an air-conditioned room and standing in the scorching afternoon sun. The originally cool sea breeze now also brought a little warmth. hot.

Casilios was surprised to find that the sun had already sunk into the sea at this moment, and the time he perceived in the wooden house was only ten minutes. If Salomon walking beside him didn't still smell of soot and blood, he would have almost stopped. He couldn't believe what had just happened - but no matter how Casilios asked about what happened in the cabin, Salomon always kept a hesitant expression, as if he didn't know how to tell the story.

In fact, when he first stepped into the threshold, he knew what he was going to face. Even so, his pride still supported him to go in and face the old overlord. Inside the house was an endless field of snow. The ice and snow even reached his knees. Every step he took would compress the ice and snow into crystals that made tiny shrieks.

This is an indescribable peace, this is the sound of death, the silence and death under the gray sky have overwhelmed everything in the real world. He took a deep breath, the cold air filled his lungs, and his moist eyes condensed and melted in an instant - he could hear his heartbeat and his footsteps, and every direction he looked from here was covered in heavy snow. Until the gray horizon meets the deep purple sky. The fierce cold tore at his skin and hair, and the extremely low temperature scratched his lungs and heart like sharp claws that penetrated the body. It would only take a few seconds for ordinary people to freeze to death in this heavy snow, unless they had He has such a special physique that he can survive here wearing only single clothes.

Salomon knew that this was not true, that it was just an illusion, the effect of Odin's power overflowing from the outer dimension into the real plane. But when he lowered his head, he found that his neat and clean clothes had turned into a poorly cut wolf skin coat that smelled of animals, and his exquisite handmade leather shoes had turned into short boots supported by animal skin. When he looked up, he found that the sky was The constellations he recognized randomly outlined the fate of the dead that should not have been there.

A wild wolf, a wild wolf near the horizon, was sitting on a high snow-covered rock, waiting for him. Its gray-black fur almost blended into the night, and its hot breath condensed into white mist in the cold air. Salomon walked over, and the wild wolf turned away and jumped towards the desolate wilderness spreading to the horizon - seeing this, Salomon immediately followed. It was as if he had lost all his strength, and only his long-strengthened body was still supporting him in this extremely low temperature environment. He pulled his legs out of the snow and ran forward in large strides. The ice and snow froze his toes, the cold air tore at his throat, and the smell of blood kept rising. He chased the extremely fast wild wolf for several hours without stopping. The temperature continued to drop, and he couldn't see any sun. It wasn't until the frostbite spread to the bottom of his skin, and the fatigue he hadn't felt for a long time once again assaulted his muscles, that the wild wolf gradually slowed down.

It was a longhouse that looked like an inverted giant longship. Heavy snow covered the tiles on the sloping roof. The angular pillars were decorated with carvings of wolf heads. The tall chimney in the middle of the roof emitted thick smoke. The firelight from the open door drew a shaky silhouette on the dark snow. The wild wolf sat under the firelight and waited for him. Salomon moved his frozen limbs and then pushed open the door and walked in with the wild wolf - the vast hall was full of life, with two rows of long vines. An astonishing number of long tables were placed in the space between the pillars. A bonfire made of burning coal stood in the center of the house. A slaughtered beast was roasting on the bonfire, which only illuminated the hall and failed to take into account the corridors on both sides. However, this is not a simple hall, shadowy ghosts live in the shadows that cannot be illuminated by the fire.

A group of barbaric warriors who exuded the smell of blood and greasy sweat gathered around the long table. They grabbed the meat on the huge plate and ate it, drank the mead in the horn cup, and made harsh noises while moving their feet. A hum of conversation. Some warriors in armor sat at the end of the long table. A large number of blood-stained weapons were piled together, exuding an astonishing stench and ferocity. The gnawed bones were thrown everywhere, and even one could be stepped on from time to time on the reed-covered mud floor. The sour mead soaked every fiber of the long wooden table, and the fiercely burning fire emitted The heat amplified the stench in the hall.

On the high platform at the top of the hall, there is a long table and a wooden throne engraved with heroic reliefs. A white-haired king sits on the throne covered with fur, holding a golden spear. He is far taller than ordinary people, and the fiercest and strongest warriors on the other long tables can only reach his chest. Although the king looks very old, his every move is still extremely majestic. Lying at his feet A sleeping giant wolf, the color of its fur is exactly the same as that of the wild wolf that led Salomon here before.

The king did not seem to notice Salomon's arrival until he pushed aside the fighting warriors and walked under the high platform, standing in the blood of the loser. It was only then that the soldiers noticed his presence, and a thousand pairs of fierce yellow eyes were all aimed at him. The ghosts living in the darkness fled the hall in fright, and a gust of cold wind blew. Many soldiers complained.

"I am the God of War, the God of Storms, the Lord of Spears, the God of the Dead, the King of the Undead, the God of Knowledge, the King of the Gallows, the Father of Magic, and the Father of the Gods." The old king spoke in ancient Norse language At this moment, the burning coal pile exploded into pieces of sparks, as if the air was shaken by his voice. He leaned down and looked at Salomon under the high platform, his sharp eyes looking directly at the young man's face, "Who came to my hall to challenge me?"

"I am Salomon of the Earth, the Lord of Karma Taj, the holder of the Holy Sword, the King of the Eternal City, the Emperor of Latvinia and the future Lord of Humanity." Salomon said without being humble or condescending. "I don't know why I'm here, but I know I have to be here."

"Are you a king too?"

"That's right."

"But you look nothing like it. You have no armor or weapons. You look like a poor country hunter." The king pointed at Salomon's tattered fur coat and said slyly, "No matter what As many titles as I have, I have more names that you have never heard of. Those names are heavier than the most majestic mountains in the world, and you look weak. This is my hall, and you actually want to be in it. This challenges me!”

"I'm not challenging you, Father of the Gods. I just want you to show your hospitality and give a stranger the warmth of a fire. This is the ancient courtesy. Besides, I am also a king, and we are equals. , you have no reason to reject me." Although he didn't know what happened, Salomon still answered according to the tradition he learned in Asgard. "And we are not enemies. I am unarmed and open-minded. If you refuse to give me warmth, your fate will be covered by the shadow of the ancient curse."

The priest with antlers and amulets whispered in the king's ear. After a while, the king nodded with a reluctant expression.

"Today we have a new guest!" The white-haired king's voice was like thunder. He shouted to everyone in the hall. "Although the priest has proved his merits, no living person can set foot in my palace Val." Hala, he must prove himself worthy of the warm fire I offer. If he fails to complete the trial to prove himself, then whoever defeats him will receive my gift." The warriors pounded their fists. A huge roar came from the long table. Some anxious warriors had put down their meat, stretched out their greasy hands to pick up the weapons and shields put aside, and some waved their fists at their companions in order to compete for places. The king holding the spear laughed loudly and made a gesture to quiet the restless warriors.

"But before that, we must give our guests enough courtesy." The king called his servants to bring a huge plate and placed it in front of Salomon, himself and a group of warriors. Only then did Salomon see clearly that what was on the wooden plate was not a simple barbecue, but a human leg that had been roasted black. "This is the flesh and blood of the coward." The priest said from the side. "This is the best food to nourish the body of a warrior."

"No." Salomon suppressed his anger, "I refuse."

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