Chapter Sixteen: The Lich King's Grand Invitation

“Boss, we’ve received word from Vikan.”

Taking the phone that Erica handed him, he watched the video Vikan had sent, showing himself and Tony in the same frame. Behind them, a jeep exploded in flames, the screams of the wounded mingling with a frenzy of ghouls summoned by sinister runes. Despite the low resolution, the light and sound captured the death knight’s evil in full.

“It seems Vikan did well. I have another task for you.”

Roald set the phone aside and looked at Erica, only to find she had already split into a mirror image.

“Deliver this video to its intended destination, right? I get it.” Erica nonchalantly touched the chitinous limb on her back and said, “I must say, you really are evil.”

“If I weren’t evil, would I be the Lich King?”

Just as you can’t stop goblins and gnomes from inventing bizarre machines, so too is this instinct engraved deep in my genes, the unshakable logic of my nature.

Roald raised his coffee cup. One Erica stood by with the coffee pot, while her mirror image, spider limbs stretching, gave him a courteous bow before disappearing from the room.

“Why did you let the mirror image out?”

“It’s good for her to get familiar with the surroundings. And when she’s officially on duty, won’t you enjoy double the happiness?”

Roald nodded.

Truth be told, having two Ericas in the room was quite a pleasant sensation.

“By the way, it’s time for the company to proceed with the stock acquisition. As always, don’t reveal yourself.”

Though it was just a small sum, the great Lich King would never pass up any opportunity with a high probability of profit.

“One more thing.” Roald stopped Erica just as she was about to slip out the window. “Remember to bring back a blood sample from Osborn.”

Erica sighed inwardly.

“Yes… I’ll take care of all that.”

She felt her sorrows were beyond the understanding of others and wondered if all Lich Kings were so prone to nagging.

Lingering effects of Frostmourne?

Had becoming more mournful made him more talkative as well?

Because of Nick Fury’s orders, Coulson had been constantly harassing Peter Parker these days, and at night, he had to surveil Roald’s antique shop until the early morning shift. Coulson felt that his already receding hairline was creeping back even further.

He was drifting in and out of sleep when an urgent summons jolted him awake.

Rising and instinctively reaching for his gun, he remembered he was at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and slumped back down, Peter Parker’s voice echoing in his ears like surround sound.

Surveilling Roald was a dangerous task, but talking with Peter Parker was its own form of torture.

Still, this was his rest period; unless something urgent happened, no one would disturb him. Hearing the voice outside his door, Coulson quickly got up and answered.

“Melinda? What’s going on?”

At the door stood his partner, the woman known as “Iron Cavalry.” She ignored his fatigue, turned briskly on her heel, and said, “Agent Coulson, I think we need to go to the Director’s office. Now!”

Melinda was always decisive, but today Coulson heard a rare urgency in her voice. He had a bad feeling.

Did that “enthusiastic citizen” manage to make a mess while I wasn’t watching?

They hurried through the corridors, bypassing other agents, and entered Nick Fury’s office, which was already full. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the screen at the front.

“Tony is being held in a headlock by an armored giant nearly two meters tall. In the firestorm of a rocket explosion, surrounded by howling ghouls, he’s shouting ‘cheese’ for a group photo.”

“What?”

Coulson saw Nick Fury and quickly stepped forward. “Director, what is this?”

Nick Fury turned, his dark face and single eye radiating a chilling intensity. “Just as you see. We’ve received quite a gift.”

“Stark’s been kidnapped. During your rest, we intercepted a video online, and it’s exactly what you’re seeing now,” Melinda explained.

“What? Did you trace the video’s IP address?” Coulson asked.

“Are you questioning my expertise?” snapped the agent at the computer. “Of course we traced it. That’s how we found this in the first place.”

Given that Tony Stark had been abducted despite a military escort, a military representative was also present: Colonel Ethan.

“According to the last reports from Afghanistan, our convoy escorting Tony was attacked in the afternoon, local time. This footage is from the vehicle’s dashcam.”

As he spoke, Ethan entered his password into his military phone and handed it to the nearby agent. The footage appeared: the missing team’s final transmission.

“Left side, a hundred meters… Damn, that horse is drifting! Target approaching fast! The horse jumped to the right side. Everyone on alert!”

“What the hell is that, a death knight? Stop, I said stop! Damn it, open fire, now!”

“Oh shit, what kind of undead is that? What monster is this? Retreat, retreat—argh!”

“RPG!”

The image shook amid gunfire and explosions, and the cause of terror appeared before everyone in the office.

Through smoke and thunderous hooves, a pitch-black warhorse with a skull mask crashed through the fire and leapt past the jeep. Its mane whipped wildly as it reared back, muscles bulging, frost-blue breath billowing from its nostrils. Atop its back, a grim knight raised a heavy sword inscribed with shifting red, green, and blue runes.

“Haha, hahaha, hahahahahahaha!”

Vikan, seated atop the warhorse, let out a string of maniacal laughs.

Screams echoed through the command center as the knight, mounted on a flaming-hooved steed, laughed wildly while cleaving through one jeep after another. Every man struck down by his blade rose again to join his charge, making a gruesome spectacle of death. Suddenly, the knight turned his head toward the camera, curled his lips in a mocking smile, and brought his sword down.

The screen went black. Only then did those in the room realize their backs were drenched in cold sweat.

“Did he see us?” Ethan’s voice was tinged with fear.

“No, he spotted the dashcam.”

Nick Fury stepped forward and turned off the video. “Now, I think we have every reason to believe Tony Stark was attacked by an unknown enemy—one that may not even be human.”

Though he knew there were hidden forces in this world—Roald’s appearance had already sounded the alarm for him—Nick Fury had still underestimated things. Even if the enemy was a medieval knight in full armor, even if he was ferocious, how could a team of battle-hardened special forces fire so many shots without taking him down? And what kind of horse outruns a military jeep?

Was that armor tank-grade? Was the steed some kind of alien creature?

“What do you think, Agent Coulson?” Nick Fury asked.

“But Director, if the enemy isn’t human or is acting independently, how do we explain his awareness of the camera? Also, the angles in the two videos are slightly different.”

“And, the blue frost on him reminds me of someone.”

Everyone in the office turned to look at him.

Meanwhile, Vikan, seated atop his warhorse, raised his sword and placed its flat against Tony’s shoulder as Tony suddenly sat up in shock.

“Hey, my friend, have you ever heard of the Lich King and the Scourge?”

“We now cordially invite you to join.”