"Mordo has arrived!"
The lower-ranked demons who were fleeing in panic quickly spread the news of Aron's arrival.
During the last invasion of Earth, the surviving demons told terrifying tales of encounters with Mordo. In their eyes, he was no longer just a man, he was a monster. A being who played with demons as if they were toys. A devil hunter. One who not only destroyed them but used them for his own power.
"Mordo?"
The news soon reached Belath.
At first, he thought it was some kind of mistake. Maybe one of his subordinates had misunderstood something or relayed incorrect information. Mordo? In Hell himself? It had to be a joke. If he hadn't dared to seek him out on Earth, why would he show up on his doorstep?
But soon it was confirmed, the news was true.
The man known as Mordo, or now by the name Aron, had indeed come to the very edge of Hell.
It's hard to describe how Belath felt at that moment. Excitement and rage battled in his chest. Excited because he would finally avenge the humiliation and loss from the previous encounter. Enraged because Aron had dared to barge in so boldly, as if he valued Belath and Hell less than a handful of ashes.
"He's just asking for death!"
Soon after, Belath and his army found Aron.
Although "found" might not be the right word, because Aron hadn't even tried to hide. He sat right at the edge of the magma river, lazily throwing pebbles into the red-hot lava. Behind him stretched a structure, the dimensional portal whose construction Belath had previously ordered.
"Man!"
"I haven't even started looking for you, and you come right to my doorstep."
"There's a saying on Earth… Heaven has a path, yet you avoid it. Hell has no doors, and you break your way through!"
Belath's voice was full of disdain and rage. His face bore a demonic smile, twisted satisfaction from catching his enemy off guard.
"With that slippery tongue of yours… what, you want to get a postgraduate degree from me?"
Aron threw another stone, then stood up and dusted off his hands.
"Also, why didn't you ask me why I'm here?"
"What if I came to surrender?"
Belath paused. That thought hadn't even crossed his mind.
"So... are you here to beg for your life?" he asked, suspiciously.
"No," Aron replied, calmly.
"I came to attack you."
...
Silence briefly filled the space.
Belath's expression twisted. Aron's face playful, confident, provoked rage in every demon present.
"Good! Good! Good!" Belath shouted, each time louder, furiously.
"You dare to come ALONE to launch an invasion!? Fine! When I kill you, I'll take your soul back to Earth and show them what a real invasion looks like!"
Behind him, massive demonic wings spread, dark as a night without end. In a charge that darkened the skies of Hell, he rushed toward Aron, ready to tear him apart.
But Aron merely smiled slightly. He didn't move a step.
"Who told you I came alone?" he asked.
He stood still, raised one hand, and spoke clearly and calmly:
"I summon…"
"Hela from the Marvel universe, Mistress of the Underworld, Odin's eldest daughter, Goddess of Death of Helheim…"
"And the army of the dead she commands!"
At that moment, thunder shook the sky of Hell.
The sky of Limbo, until then dark and lifeless, cracked like glass. Through the crack, a ghastly green light began to shine. Like blood in a deeper dimension, the green light spread through the cloud of ash.
"Hela…?"
Belath heard the name.
It sounded like a bad joke.
Because everyone knows, Hela had been sealed in the underworld by Odin.
And now… you, a mere mortal, dare to summon her?
Without a shred of shame?
"Stop with that nonsense!"
"Die!"
Belath hurled himself at Aron and grabbed him with his enormous hand.
The attack was instantaneous, there was no time to dodge.
But then, in a split second…
A figure appeared.
Graceful, cold, powerful.
She raised her hand and unleashed a powerful dark green energy beam.
BOOM!
With a loud blast, the beam struck Belath straight in the chest.
Not only was the attack stopped, his entire massive demonic body was thrown backward, dozens of meters through the air.
"Hela!?"
Belath stared at her.
"Why are you stopping me? Is it really you?"
He couldn't believe it.
Hela. The Goddess of Death.
Why would she help a human?
But then… Belath was struck by a far more dangerous realization.
His eyes widened.
"Wait… you… can leave the Underworld!?"
That wasn't supposed to be possible.
Odin had sealed her personally.
Yet there she was, before him. Her aura, cold and destructive, enveloped the entire space.
Hela didn't even look at him.
She merely closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the hot, war-charged air pulsing around her.
This was what she felt.
War.
Her element. Her calling.
Her eyes slowly opened, now gleaming with excitement and a lust for battle.
At the same moment, the "Aron" Belath had almost grabbed turned into a wisp of blue smoke and vanished.
Advanced magic — Iken's Form.
Magic that allows the creation of several physical duplicates.
These aren't mere illusions, but real, tangible beings, capable of using magic and techniques like the real body.
That was Aron.
Even though it seemed like he had an alliance with Hela, Aron didn't completely trust her, he would never expose his real body to such risk.
"Thank you."
He said briefly, even though it was only the double who knew it.
But even that is something.
Because Hela couldn't know she hadn't protected the real Aron.
And Iken's Form is no low-level trick. Even Doctor Strange used it when fighting Thanos.
Not even Thanos managed to detect the difference, until he was forced to use the Power of the Soul Stone to forcibly break it.
"You've disappointed me a little, you know," said Hela, somewhat theatrically.
"You have to give me something in return."
"Let's say… allow me to destroy this dimension."
Her voice was sweet, but her eyes — cold, warlike.
Because behind that sentence was no sorrow.
Only pure hunger for destruction.
From the moment she left the underworld, Hela no longer hid her ambitions.
The eldest princess of Asgard had awakened once again.
The Goddess of Death.
She who terrified the Nine Realms.
And now, she was under Aron.
"Go," he said briefly.
"Limbo is the first stop."
At his command, the crack in the sky opened wide.
From it began to pour out countless warriors, once Asgardians, now undead.
They still retained their strength, even in death.
They fell from the heights like meteors.
Landed, unharmed.
And immediately after, fiercely charged at everything that moved in front of them.
The war had begun.
——
Support me on Patreon: patreon.com/_BlackRose
For $3, you get 20+ advanced chapters.