Chapter Forty-Two: There Must Be a True Lich King

On the roads of Ohio, a black SUV was speeding with reckless abandon. It pushed itself to the greatest velocity it had ever achieved, and inside the vehicle, Barton sat with several agents behind him, exchanging silent glances.

“So Hawkeye was one of ours all along?”

“No idea. Does anyone here know who his handler is?”

“Hawkeye, fine, but I can’t believe Natasha is part of the organization too.”

“Don’t look at me. I’m just as curious as you are. Even though I’m your handler, I have no idea why Barton and Natasha are both on our side!”

“Right, who would have thought our organization had infiltrated this deep?”

“Enough debating. Can someone tell me who Hawkeye’s handler actually is? Natasha? Who decided to let him steal the Cosmic Cube without authorization? Didn’t Pierce say we were supposed to lay low for now? Which branch are they from?”

“No clue.”

“Yeah, none of us know.”

“Should we try Barton later?”

“Agreed.”

Eight voices echoed in the SUV, the core members of Hydra wrapping up their brief exchange. Since they couldn’t identify Hawkeye’s handler, they decided to test his allegiance at the next opportunity.

Meanwhile, Barton in the passenger seat suddenly felt a wave of dizziness. When he came to, he found himself sitting in the car, instinctively turning to see a row of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents staring at him from behind.

“Hey, guys, what’s going on?” Hawkeye looked at the two agents at the head of the row, hoping to understand the situation, but the agent driving abruptly stopped the SUV and shouted at him.

“Hail Hydra!”

Hawkeye raised an eyebrow, baffled. What is this supposed to mean?

His confusion quickly infected the other agents in the car. To clarify things, the driver changed tactics—after stepping out, he immediately spoke the phrase every Hydra member would recognize.

“Long live Hydra!”

Still stunned, Hawkeye was left utterly bewildered.

Hadn’t he just been shooting arrows at an armored figure? How was it that someone was suddenly shouting “Long live Hydra” at him?

The abrupt exclamation left him at a loss, especially coming from the driver. He looked back, puzzled.

The air grew uncomfortably silent. Tension thickened, tinged with awkwardness.

At last, one of the agents at Barton’s side was the first to react, drawing his pistol instantly.

All true Hydra operatives knew: when a member shouted “Long live Hydra,” the person addressed had to respond immediately. If they didn’t, it meant—

—this person wasn’t Hydra at all!

The agents erupted in furious outrage, feeling betrayed by Hawkeye.

“You’re not one of us!” shouted an agent, pulling out a submachine gun to deal with Hawkeye, who quickly ducked for cover as things took a turn for the worse.

“What’s happening?” he wondered, still unable to grasp the situation.

While chaos reigned outside, Roald, who had absconded with a trove of energy artifacts, was in high spirits.

He entered his basement, prepared all the materials, then picked up the Cosmic Cube, bringing the Space Stone within to his face for close inspection.

The Cube radiated a blue glow, the Space Stone inside not yet fully revealing its true form.

Though he couldn’t directly extract the stone, using the Cube and the stone together sufficed.

With this immense energy, at least Roald would never again have to worry about soul energy shortages or maintenance costs.

Placing his hand on the stone, Roald activated his [Death Extraction] ability.

Magic was also the Cube’s power, representing a form of primordial energy. Roald was now experimenting with how he might maximize the use of this force.

He gripped the Cube, the stone inside shining with a blue light. As for whether he could withstand the immense magical power, Roald had no concerns—Death Extraction could absorb vast quantities of energy, which, once tempered by Frostmourne, would yield tremendous soul magic.

He could even use the Cube as a large-scale magic source, akin to the Sunwell, to harness abundant and stable magic.

His right hand wrapped around the Cube, and the stone instantly emitted a blue brilliance, illuminating the entire basement. The aura of death swept forth, and as Roald raised his hand clutching the Cube, blue circuits lit up across his body, and every rune on Frostmourne shone brightly.

This also proved one thing: his death-origin power was perhaps not so different from this world’s primordial forces.

It seemed he was stealing business from the underworld.

With force, he plunged Frostmourne into the Cube. The blue cube cracked with a sharp sound, then shattered entirely. A surge of energy flowed along the blade of Frostmourne, the light entering his body, coursing through him. Roald could distinctly feel a power unlike magic flooding into him.

A blue shockwave swept through the basement, scattering everything within, though fortunately its force was not excessive and caused little damage.

The Cube shattered, and Roald spread his hand to grasp a pale blue, softly glowing stone.

“So this is the Space Stone?”

He held the gem, tilting his head to examine it. The blue light shimmered, clear and radiant, brimming with power.

Having extracted the stone, it was time for the card-forging ritual.

Following the usual steps for card creation, Roald once more gripped the Space Stone, grinding the Cube’s fragments with his own blood, meticulously arranging today’s spoils, and bringing out his signature Lich King card.

Along with it, an obelisk, a scarab ring, a skull of unknown origin, and various odd specimens and fragments...

Once the card-forging process was complete, Roald fused the Space Stone with his identity card.

[True Lich King Arthas]
[Type: Hero Card]
[Rarity: Legendary+++]
[Race: Human]
[Attribute: Undead]
[Magic: ∞]
[Ultimate: True Death Scourge]
[Traits: King of Fate, Death’s Requirement, Cull the Weak, Ruthless Winter, Annihilation of Life, Anti-Magic Shield, Apocalypse Scourge, Black Blade Legion]
[Description: Every world must have one true Lich King]

Ignoring the strange symbols on his card, Roald set it aside for safekeeping and began the ritual to forge Kel’Thuzad.

He fed the obelisk, numerous specimens, and energy into the process. As all these were reduced to powder by blue flames, Roald sliced open his own palm, repeating the monotonous ritual.

Five hours later, Kel’Thuzad was successfully forged.