Chapter Seventy-Three: The Dark Elf King

A squad of Asgardian palace guards, clad in golden armor and wielding newly designed weapons, slowly approached the black, blade-shaped alien spaceship. After crashing into the great hall, the ship fell silent, and a hush descended over the chamber. The guards gripped their guns tightly, eyes fixed on the vessel as they advanced step by cautious step.

Inside the ship, countless Dark Elves wearing white masks stood at the ready, arrayed in formation at the dimly lit hatch, poised for an ambush. When the guards were within ten meters of the ship, the hatch suddenly opened. In an instant, a barrage of red lasers shot toward the Asgardian guards, felling many in the first volley.

The rear guard quickly rallied, and their new weapons unleashed a hail of golden energy, cutting down swathes of Dark Elves in return. The Dark Elves were taken aback—how could these Asgardian soldiers wield such overwhelming firepower? A thousand years before, the Asgardian army had fought with spears and shields, simple weapons of steel and wood. Now, they wielded weapons of immense destructive power.

A fierce exchange erupted, but the Asgardians not only possessed energy weapons; each also carried a round shield. The Dark Elves’ laser fire glanced harmlessly off the shimmering white energy barriers projected by these shields. Forced to retreat under the withering assault, the Dark Elves fell back into their ship, seeking cover as they returned fire.

“Ha! These Nidavellir-made weapons are truly magnificent!” one Asgardian soldier cheered.

“Yes, we should have switched to these powerful energy arms long ago,” another exclaimed.

“Enough chatter! Focus on the fight—wipe them out!” barked the captain.

Chastened, the Asgardian soldiers redoubled their efforts, firing relentlessly into the alien craft.

Suddenly, a Dark Elf hurled a grenade-like device toward the Asgardian line. One soldier managed to deflect it with his shield, but the bomb detonated, and the shockwave engulfed five guards. That section of the hall abruptly contracted—the soldiers were crushed together and vanished in an instant.

It was a spatial compression bomb, the Dark Elves’ most lethal weapon. More of these bombs sailed through the air toward the Asgardian ranks.

Boom!

Boom! Boom!

Explosions rocked the hall, and the Asgardian forces suffered grievous losses. The Dark Elves surged out from the ship again, red energy lances blazing as they cut down the defenders.

The spatial compression bombs continued to rain down, forcing the Asgardian guards into retreat after bloody retreat. Reinforcements arrived from outside, but even they could not stem the tide. The slaughter was everywhere.

Malekith, King of the Dark Elves, strode boldly from the ship, flanked by a score of his warriors who kept close guard. His pallid skin gleamed in the gloom as he gazed at the throne of the God King, recalling his defeat at the hands of the previous monarch, the theft of the Aether, and his millennium of exile—hounded like a cur across the cosmos.

All this, thanks to Asgard! Malekith marched straight for Odin’s throne, snatching a spatial compression bomb from a fallen soldier’s belt as he passed.

He hurled the bomb at Odin’s throne. It detonated, shattering the seat of power, and the space around it collapsed inward. The throne was swallowed whole by the force, leaving only an empty dais behind.

The Dark Elf King led his warriors in the direction of the Aether. Today, he would reclaim what was stolen from him!

…

The prison escapees had all been slain by the guards and by Thor and his allies who had arrived just in time. Loki too received news of the Dark Elves’ attack on the palace and the destruction of the God King’s throne. He was uncertain whether to feel relief or dread—for now, he remained locked in his cell, powerless to affect the outcome, forced to wait for the resolution of this crisis.

Meanwhile, Thor raced toward the great hall, intent on destroying the enemy. Odin too arrived at the scene. Wielding his scepter, he unleashed a sweep of golden energy, cleaving several Dark Elves in half in a single motion.

Surveying the carnage—the hall littered with corpses, the throne obliterated, columns toppled, and the alien ship embedded amid the rubble—Odin could not help but regret ignoring Thor and Arthur’s warnings to prepare for such an attack. He had always believed that the Dark Elves had been annihilated by his father, but the evidence before him made it clear: they had survived, returned, and now stood at Asgard’s very gates!

“No—Frigga is in danger!” The realization struck Odin like a thunderbolt. The Dark Elf King sought the Aether, which was currently inside a mortal woman named Jane Foster, who was with the Queen. Malekith was surely leading his forces to the royal chambers in search of them!

Without hesitation, Odin and his guards rushed toward the royal apartments.

…

Arthur accompanied Queen Frigga and Jane to the royal chambers. Frigga did her best to soothe Jane, urging her not to be afraid. At last, Jane managed to calm herself, though she still trembled faintly—the sounds of explosions and the horrific screams from the palace still echoed in her ears.

At that moment, the doors to the royal chambers burst open. In strode Malekith, the Dark Elf King, clad in silver armor and a black helmet, his ghastly white skin gleaming as he led his followers inside.

“Stand aside, monster! I will spare your life if you withdraw!” Queen Frigga declared, brandishing a sword at Malekith.

“My life is not so easily forfeit, woman,” the Dark Elf King replied icily.

As the Queen prepared to step forward, Arthur stopped her. “Leave these to me, Your Majesty.”

“Be careful!” Frigga withdrew, standing protectively beside Jane.

“So you’re Malekith, King of the Dark Elves? I’ve been waiting for you for a long time,” Arthur said, fixing his gaze on the alien monarch.

“And who are you?” Malekith sneered.

“I come from Earth. My name is Yon Arthur, but I’m better known as the Sea King,” Arthur answered. As he spoke, a golden light flashed across his body. In an instant, golden armor and green trousers materialized upon him, a golden cloak draped his shoulders, a crown gleamed atop his head, and a golden trident appeared in his grasp.

Arthur stood resplendent, radiant with golden light, his presence commanding and formidable—like a player who had purchased all the premium upgrades. Both the Queen and Jane couldn’t help but stare in awe at his magnificent armor.

“Sea King? Ha! A lowly mortal dares call himself king before me? You overestimate yourself!” Malekith scoffed, utterly dismissive.

“Kill him!” Malekith ordered. His warriors opened fire, a hail of red lasers converging on Arthur.

Arthur did not flinch or dodge; he allowed the energy blasts to strike him, curious to test the armor’s defenses. A white energy field shimmered over the armor’s surface, deflecting every attack. Like the Asgardian shields, it rendered him immune to both energy and magic.

Arthur was well pleased with the armor’s resilience. When he saw a Dark Elf preparing to toss a grenade, he hesitated, uncertain if the armor could withstand such a blast. But as the Dark Elf cocked his arm to throw, Arthur raised his trident and unleashed a bolt of golden energy. It struck the Dark Elf instantly, detonating the grenade in his hand. The explosion triggered a spatial collapse, and in a heartbeat, several Dark Elves nearby were caught in the blast and crushed out of existence by the overwhelming spatial force.

…

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