At some point, the Dark Elves who had followed Malekith into Asgard had already collapsed in pools of blood, strewn everywhere.
Their bodies were either covered in charred electrical burns, pierced through vital points by unknown attacks, or, in the worst cases, left without even an intact corpse.
And his close friend Algrim, in whom he had placed such high hopes and who had now accepted an ancient curse to become Kurse, was not doing much better.
That unremarkable young man was rapidly dismembering him with a blade. Yes, dismembering was the most fitting word for his current state.
The young man held a longsword that radiated an eerie green glow, striking Algrim again and again.
Every swing sliced a small piece of flesh from Algrim's body. If Algrim had not done everything he could to evade, that eerie green sword would have already severed his head!
Damn it, what was going on? Was he dreaming?
Algrim had become the strongest soldier among the Dark Elves—Kurse.
His combat strength was so formidable that he could crush the vast majority of the Aesir and even contend with All-Father Odin himself.
Against anyone other than Odin, Algrim could even challenge all of Asgard alone. Yet such a powerful warrior was now being viciously toyed with like a slab of meat on a chopping block by the brat he had looked down upon.
"We can't let this continue!" Aether Particles surged wildly around Malekith. He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms.
If even Algrim fell here, it would not only mean that the Dark Elves had lost their sharpest weapon, but also that his carefully arranged plan for vengeance would utterly collapse.
He had to find a way to save Algrim!
Algrim's massive body crashed to