The moment the crimson crystals melted into his body, Blackheart’s expression changed completely.
Until now, he’d never feared the Ghost Rider.
He’d even dared kidnap Johnny Blaze’s girlfriend and use her as leverage because he understood one simple fact.
The Penance Stare judged souls.
Blackheart had none.
That had always made him immune.
But now...
He could feel them.
The things Evenson had forced into his body.
Souls.
Real souls.
Ironically, that was exactly what he’d crossed into the mortal world to obtain.
The Contract of San Venganza contained a thousand damned souls. Absorbing them would have elevated him to an entirely different level of power.
Instead...
Evenson had shoved five ordinary souls into him.
Five.
Far too few to make a crippled, limbless demon any stronger.
Just enough to become fuel for divine judgment.
Evenson crouched beside him and called toward the distant battlefield.
"Rider."
"Quit playing around and come do your actual job."
Silence.
Several long seconds passed.
Nobody answered.
Evenson glanced over.
The Destroyer was still enthusiastically using the Ghost Rider as a punching bag.
"...Never mind," he sighed. "Looks like you’ll have to wait a little longer before your execution."
"He won’t kill me!" Blackheart snapped.
"He doesn’t dare."
"My leverage is still alive."
"My beloved is still in my hands."
Evenson froze.
"...You know," he said slowly.
"Thanks for reminding me."
He immediately clamped a hand over Blackheart’s mouth.
Villains really did love talking themselves to death.
Sometimes they explained their master plan until the heroes escaped.
Other times...
They revealed their final trump card moments before dying.
Blackheart had apparently chosen the second option.
Evenson looked at Sif.
"Cut out his tongue."
"Just in case he starts saying anything inconvenient."
The Ghost Rider, once transformed, was rarely in a rational state.
Tonight was even worse.
Johnny’s mind had already been unstable before transforming.
After getting beaten senseless by the Destroyer for half the night...
Reason probably wasn’t making many decisions anymore.
Still...
There was always the chance that hearing Lorraine’s name would snap him back to reality.
If that happened...
Instead of executing Blackheart, he might decide rescuing his girlfriend came first.
And then Evenson would have to fight the Ghost Rider all over again.
No thank you.
Besides...
His Soul Shard daggers wouldn’t work well against the Ghost Rider anyway.
They were composed entirely of soul energy.
Hellfire had a nasty habit of burning exactly that.
Most likely the daggers would melt before they inflicted meaningful damage.
Better to eliminate the possibility altogether.
As for Johnny’s girlfriend...
Evenson shrugged inwardly.
Whether she lives or dies has absolutely nothing to do with me.
Sif reached down and grabbed Blackheart’s jaw.
He stubbornly clenched his mouth shut.
She applied a little more force.
Crack.
His jaw dislocated instantly.
"Another one of those daggers," she said, extending a hand toward Evenson.
"If I use an ordinary blade, it’ll just grow back."
Evenson scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"About that..."
"I think I already used them all."
"You used every single one?"
He nodded.
"Every single one."
Sif stared at him.
"...You couldn’t save a spare?"
Blackheart’s jaw snapped back into place.
"So..."
He grinned smugly.
"You’ve run out of options."
"Ow!"
His taunt became a scream.
Apparently Sif had found his face irritating enough that she solved the problem by simply ripping his jaw clean off.
Not dislocating it.
Removing it.
The result was horrifying.
Evenson instinctively looked away.
Asgardian women are terrifying...
No wonder Thor dated someone from Earth.
If he’d married Sif, deciding whose turn it was to wash the dishes would probably require a duel.
A few moments later, Blackheart’s jaw regenerated again.
"There."
He smirked triumphantly.
"You can’t stop me from talking."
"Talking..."
Evenson’s eyes suddenly lit up.
"I almost forgot."
He extended one finger and tapped Blackheart lightly on the lips.
"Go ahead."
"Try."
Blackheart immediately began shouting.
"Bral nar gra kal nar!"
"..."
"..."
Nobody understood a word.
Except Evenson.
Curse of Tongues.
Normally, the spell forced enemy spellcasters to speak in the demonic tongue, slowing their incantations.
Unfortunately, since arriving in the Marvel Universe, Evenson had fought almost nothing except monsters who preferred punching people.
He’d never had a proper opportunity to cast it.
Its first practical use...
Turned out to be magically censoring someone.
Blackheart could shout all he wanted.
If nobody understood him, it hardly mattered.
"There is still one problem," Evenson muttered.
"The Ghost Rider’s busy."
Sure enough, in the distance...
The Destroyer punched the Rider three times, drove another blow into his neck, then casually kicked him across the battlefield before preparing to do it all again.
The construct remained completely occupied.
"Well..."
A relaxed voice drifted through the night.
"It looks like you gentlemen could use a hand."
A horse snorted.
Everyone turned.
A lone rider approached at an unhurried pace.
He wore a weathered leather duster and looked like he’d stepped straight out of an old Western.
Evenson recognized him immediately.
"Caretaker."
The former Ghost Rider.
The old man who had once escaped after Evenson and his allies had riddled him with bullets.
"What are you doing here?"
Carter Slade removed his hat slightly in greeting.
"I knew Blackheart had taken Johnny’s girl."
"I was worried the kid might lose his nerve when it mattered."
He glanced toward the ongoing battle between the Destroyer and the current Ghost Rider.
"This isn’t exactly how I imagined things playing out."
A faint smile crossed his skeletal face.
"But..."
"...it seems arriving now is perfect."
He stepped down from his horse.
Hellfire erupted.
In an instant, the old cowboy became the Ghost Rider once more.
He walked to Blackheart’s side.
"It’s time."
"Time to end a debt that’s lasted more than a hundred and seventy years."
He forced Blackheart’s eyelids open.
The flaming skull leaned close until their gazes met.
"Every Rider calls this move something different."
"I’ve always preferred..."
He grinned.
"...High Noon."
The Penance Stare ignited.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter