Meanwhile, in New York, on North Brother Island…
Inside the abandoned riverside hospital, the air hung deathly still, thick with the stench of decay and dust.
The floor and walls of the hall were densely covered with obscure runes—each line glowing with a faint blue light, intertwined like blood vessels and converging into a massive magic circle over twenty meters in diameter.
At its center stood Blackheart, his pale face unnaturally sinister in the dim light.
His arms spread like night wings; ice crystals condensed at his fingertips. Ancient incantations slithered from his lips like venomous snakes, each syllable thickening the air:
> "Per sanguinem antiquorum daemonum, per lacrimas angelorum decidientium, ego Mephistus Filius voco te…"
> (By the blood of ancient demons and the tears of fallen angels, I, Mephistus the Son, summon thee!)
The moment the first syllable fell, the ground across all of North Brother Island began to tremble.
The water along the riverbank churned violently. The once-calm Hudson River surged with unnatural waves, as though boiling from within.
Dead fish floated to the surface in great numbers near the island—eyes milky white, black mucus oozing from their gills.
Splash…
Trees along the shore shook violently, their leaves withering and falling at a visible rate, as if some unseen force were draining their life essence.
Inside the hospital, the runes on the walls gradually shifted from blue to red, radiating a searing glow like red-hot branding irons.
The Demonic Heart's incantation grew faster and faster, its pitch rising until it became an ear-splitting shriek:
> "Hodie vincula frangimus! Surge de profundis inferni! Et terra viventium erit thronus meus!"
> (Today I shatter my chains! Rise from the depths of Hell! The land of the living shall become my throne!)
The instant the final word echoed, the ground at the center of the magic circle collapsed with a deafening roar.
A circular pit—three meters wide—opened out of nowhere. The concrete at its edge crumbled rapidly, as though corroded by an invisible force.
A thick sulfurous stench erupted, instantly filling the hospital lobby. The air grew hot and sticky with the acrid fumes.
Deep within the crater, crimson magma churned violently, its heat distorting the air above.
Gurgle… gurgle…
Amid the magma, countless twisted black shadows could be seen clawing frantically upward—limbs warped and grotesque, claws and jagged teeth rending the fabric of space itself with a chilling, grating sound.
A cold smile curled at the corner of Blackheart's mouth.
When the first hellish creature dragged itself from the pit, the entire hospital seemed to shudder.
It was a monstrous lizard-like beast, its dark red scales etched with lava-like patterns, six asymmetrical eyes scattered haphazardly across its head.
It gaped its maw and expelled a sulfurous, poisonous mist—then unleashed a deafening roar.
One by one, a second, a third… then countless deformed horrors swarmed forth from the abyss.
The Hell Rift opened only briefly before slowly sealing shut.
The instant the rift to Hell closed, spatial turbulence—like countless razor-sharp blades—shredded the demons who hadn't made it through in time into minced flesh.
Dark purple blood and severed limbs rained down, corroding the ground into bubbling pits that emitted bluish smoke.
From among the hundreds of demons emerged a humanoid figure with bat-like wings. It stepped forward and stood before Blackheart.
Its skin was blood-red, as though flayed raw, and corrosive slime dripped from its jagged claws.
"It's truly unexpected… You actually kept your promise and brought us to the human world."
Blackheart's lips twitched. His already pale face flushed crimson.
In the context of Hell, praising a demon for "keeping his promise" was practically the same as your neighbor bursting out of your bedroom closet and saying, "Your wife is very voluptuous."
That was a demonic insult!
"Nagil," Blackheart warned, voice colder than polar wind, "watch your tongue. Otherwise, I won't mind freezing it into ice crystals."
The bat demon wisely shut its mouth—though a mocking glint lingered in its eyes.
Blackheart turned to face the assembled demon legion, his black robes unmoving in the stagnant air.
"Listen well, you wretched creatures—the San Venganza Pact has been located."
His voice carried clearly to every fiend present, and an excited roar erupted from the horde.
They'd long heard the legend of the San Venganza Pact, said to contain immense dark energy.
Whoever claimed it would gain the power to overturn both the human world and Hell itself.
"But it's in the hands of a human… a special human."
Blackheart continued.
A demon with curling goat horns shoved forward, suspicion in his voice:
"A human? Could it be the legendary Sorcerer Supreme?!"
Blackheart sneered. "The Sorcerer Supreme? He's just a magician who leeches power from other dimensions—hardly worth worrying about! If he dares show his face before me, I'll crush him where he stands."
"The one who stole the San Venganza Pact is a human named Diluc Ragnvindr. He wields fire and is a master swordsman. His strength should not be underestimated—he even… cough… easily dealt with my projection."
Nagil's red eyes widened. "A human? Even your projection? That's impossible!"
Blackheart shot him a sharp glance, then raised his voice:
"Believe it or not, he'll be here in two days—with the San Venganza Pact. You can judge for yourselves then."
His gaze swept over the twisted, eager faces before him, and he spoke gravely:
"If it were only Diluc, I could handle him myself. But he's not alone—he's allied with that old bastard Mephisto's Ghost Rider."
"If those two join forces, even I might face some… difficulty. That's why I need your help to bring them down."
"I'm certain the San Venganza Pact is in the possession of one of them. Whoever seizes it will claim its power!"
A murmur rippled through the crowd. One of the goat-horned demons licked his lips, eyes gleaming with manic hunger:
"His soul…"
Blackheart turned and strode toward the frozen hostage. In a voice laced
with malice, he said:
"His soul is yours to torment—just leave him with one breath. I'll finish him myself."
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