Gungnir, the Spear of Eternity, was drawn from He-El's chest with threads of blood clinging to it. He gripped the shaft and flicked it, splashing blood from the spearhead onto the cracked ground.
Fresh flesh sprouted within He-El's chest, slowly growing back even as the six Infinity Stones continued to hinder his recovery.
The many Clone He-Els saw this, and their gazes sharpened slightly.
They began to stir, yet remained wary of their surroundings.
To them, He-El's chest was recovering far too slowly. Any one of them could heal faster than he could.
At this rate, the Clone He-Els were nearly certain they could kill He-El—kill him until he could no longer recover.
The only problem now was that there were too many Clone He-Els competing with one another.
The atmosphere was heavy, every Clone He-El keeping watch against the others.
"Since all of you are afraid of each other, then let me go first." The seven-meter-tall Super-Gene He-El swept his cold gaze across the surrounding Clone He-Els, a sneer on his broad, hard face. Then he looked down at He-El, strode toward him, and said arrogantly:
"Is this all you've got, Original?
"If that's all, then you can only become a corpse for them to fight over in my hands."
Seeing how slowly the flesh in He-El's chest was regenerating, Super-Gene He-El had no reservations whatsoever.
Super-Gene He-El stood with wild arrogance, utterly confident in himself. Veins bulged across his body, surging like the roaring Yellow River, a terrifying sight. Immense pressure seemed to force its way out through his pores, weighing heavily upon the surroundings and pressing ripples into the air, making him appear like a primordial giant emerging from warped space.
The other Clone He-Els' eyes flickered when they saw Super-Gene He-El preparing to strike first.
Every