Lady Sif was many things.
Beautiful.
Fearless.
A warrior whose courage matched her skill.
To Blackheart, those qualities only made the moment sweeter.
He still gripped both of her wrists, watching the life drain from her skin. Whether it was a devil’s cruel nature or the resentment of a prince who had spent millennia waiting for a throne he would never inherit, he found a twisted satisfaction in imagining this vibrant Asgardian slowly withering into a pale, lifeless husk before his eyes.
Unfortunately for him...
Nothing had gone his way since arriving here.
There was no reason to think his luck would suddenly improve now.
The moment Evenson reminded him he was still standing nearby, Blackheart felt something alien awaken inside him.
A strange energy swelled deep within his abdomen.
At first it was only uncomfortable.
Then it became unbearable.
He gagged.
The pressure grew rapidly, forcing him to release Sif’s wrists as he stumbled backward.
Looking down, he froze.
His stomach had swollen grotesquely.
No...
Not just his stomach.
His entire torso was expanding.
Like an overinflated balloon.
His muscles stretched beyond their limits, his body warping into impossible proportions. The swelling became so severe that his neck twisted under the pressure, leaving his head hanging at an unnatural angle against one shoulder.
His mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
No words came out.
Only panic.
Then...
Pop.
The sound was almost disappointingly small.
Blackheart exploded.
His body burst apart into fragments wrapped in writhing black mist.
Unlike a mortal creature, there was no spray of blood. Pieces of his shattered form scattered across the courtyard while clouds of infernal darkness spilled outward.
But there was something else hidden within the explosion.
Invisible ripples of shadow spread through the air.
Their range was limited.
Their power wasn’t especially impressive.
Outside the body.
Inside a victim...
They were another matter entirely.
Evenson let out a satisfied breath.
"Finally."
"That’s what this spell is actually supposed to do."
He walked over to Sif, gently examining the damage to her wrists.
The skin where Blackheart had gripped her had turned pale and shriveled.
"Here."
He handed her a glowing green Healthstone.
"Hold this."
"It has... minor side effects on ordinary humans."
He coughed lightly.
"But you’re Asgardian."
"You’ll probably be fine."
Probably.
Asgardians possessed bodies many times stronger than humans, making them vastly more resistant to foreign magical energies.
That was why Blackheart’s life-draining grip had only damaged the flesh beneath his hands instead of reducing Sif to a dried corpse.
By comparison, the trace amount of fel energy inside a Healthstone should be harmless.
In theory.
Hopefully.
Sif studied the stone for a moment.
It certainly didn’t look appealing.
Then again...
After centuries campaigning beside Thor, she’d seen far worse.
She’d fought creatures whose blood could melt armor.
Monsters whose insides resembled living tar.
Entire species of insects that exploded when killed.
Compared to those memories...
A suspiciously glowing green rock barely registered.
She closed her hand around it.
A faint green light spread across her arm.
Moments later, the shriveled flesh regained its healthy color.
Life returned.
Sif flexed her fingers experimentally before handing the Healthstone back.
"Remarkable."
She gave Evenson a respectful nod.
"Thank you."
"My pleasure."
Evenson accepted it.
The emerald glow had completely faded.
The Healthstone had exhausted its stored power.
Without ceremony, he tossed it aside.
"After all..."
"I dragged you into this fight."
Sif shook her head.
"Demons from Hell have no place on Midgard."
"It is Asgard’s duty to send them back."
Whether humanity had requested that protection or not was largely irrelevant.
Asgard had long considered Earth one of the Nine Realms under its watch.
If outsiders threatened Midgard...
Asgard would answer.
Sif looked toward the scattered remnants of Blackheart.
"One thing."
"You said your spell finally worked properly."
"What did you mean?"
Evenson sighed.
"The spell is called Seed of Corruption."
"What you just witnessed..."
"...is how it’s supposed to work."
The target’s body suffered catastrophic internal damage before exploding, spreading additional shadow magic to nearby enemies.
That was the intended effect.
Sif raised an eyebrow.
"I assumed it was simply difficult to cast."
Or...
She kept the second possibility to herself.
Perhaps the mage standing beside her simply wasn’t very good.
Evenson looked offended.
His formal training as a Warlock had been rigorous.
Among Warlocks, he wasn’t exceptionally powerful.
But his education had been thorough and systematic.
He didn’t miscast spells.
The real problem...
Was his choice of targets.
The first humanoid he’d ever cast Seed of Corruption on had been the Abomination.
A creature capable of swallowing plastic explosives like candy.
Compared to that monster’s absurd durability, Evenson’s spell hadn’t stood a chance of detonating inside the creature’s body.
His second target had barely qualified as humanoid at all.
The Ghost Rider.
With Hellfire constantly burning through his supernatural form, the spell’s internal structure had been destroyed before it could activate.
Only its raw Shadow energy had inflicted damage.
The explosion had never occurred.
Blackheart, however...
Lacked both the Abomination’s impossible physique and the Ghost Rider’s Hellfire.
So the spell finally behaved exactly as its creator intended.
"What a surprise."
A calm, ethereal voice drifted across the courtyard.
Black mist began gathering in the air.
Fragments of Blackheart’s shattered body floated together.
Piece by piece...
The Prince of Hell reformed.
He looked at Evenson with newfound respect.
"You laid so many traps..."
"I assumed it was because you lacked confidence in your own strength."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"I’d heard you defeated the Ghost Rider."
"I thought my father was exaggerating."
"It seems..."
"...you really are that capable."
...
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