Demon Engine Legion (Part Six)

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The Golden Scepter in Hercules's hands proved every bit as formidable as Thor's Mjolnir. The immense magic within it also seemed to deal extra damage to the Demon Engines: each blow sent one flying, then struck the flames in its chest a second time.

Tony Stark and the others lit up at the sight. They had never expected Hercules to be this capable in a fight.

His performance on the battlefield rivaled Thor's, and in raw strength, he even seemed to have the edge.

Hercules charged toward the Mark 44 Little Gundam Armor like lightning. He raised the Golden Scepter to smash it into scrap metal when—

Whoosh—

Just as the Golden Scepter was about to fall, something unexpected happened!

A black whirlwind, thick with the smell of sulfur and decay, sprang up from nowhere between Hercules and the Mark 44 Little Gundam Armor.

Black as ink, the whirlwind seemed to carry the low wails of countless tormented souls. It shut out light and sound.

Then a tall, gaunt figure stepped out of it.

He wore a meticulously tailored, old-fashioned black velvet suit over a snow-white lace shirt, with an elegant black bow tie at his collar.

Yet on him, the finery looked deeply unsettling.

His face was as bloodless as a vampire's, tinged with a lifeless blue. His cheeks were deeply sunken, and his eye sockets resembled bottomless pits rimmed in heavy darkness, as though nightmares had eaten away at him for years.

Two blood-red points of light danced within those sockets, full of malice, arrogance, and inhuman hunger.

His fingers were thin and pale, but his nails were long, sharp, and an ominous black.

The newcomer was Blackheart. His timing was perfect: just as Hercules's thunderous blow was about to land, he casually raised one