"No way?"
Luke blinked at the swirling energy in the distance. "They're here... to collect a debt? Seriously?"
Wasn't the Ancient One clear about how hard it was to cross dimensional barriers?
So how the hell did these demons just waltz onto Earth like it was some tourist hotspot?
Luke didn't have a clue what kind of insane price the hell demons paid to break through. All he knew was—those creepy creditors might've just wasted their time.
"Coming to collect?" Luke cracked his knuckles. "You better be packing more than just bad breath."
He had already started drawing an exorcism circle in his mind, just in case things got messy. Sending demons back home? Just another Tuesday for an exorcist like him
"But then again…" Luke tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"They came all this way. Maybe I should be a good host. Offer snacks. Threaten them a little. Typical Earth hospitality."
He sensed something much stronger among the demonic energy flooding the city—a presence that made the air hum. This wasn't some low-tier demon. No, this had to be one of the big names—the hell lords Ancient One had warned him about.
"Guess I better check it out," he muttered. "And if it turns out to be too much trouble... I'll just banish them all. Easy."
Luke wasn't worried. The hell demons were looking for Karl Mordo, who had been toying with demonic magic again.
As far as they were concerned, Luke was just a guy who played with shadows. What did he have to do with any of it?
Decision made, he slipped on the Sling Ring. But this time, instead of the usual golden portal, he focused on his shadow energy.
The ring pulsed—but nothing happened.
"Huh?"
Then, without warning, a swirling black hole appeared beneath his feet. Before he could react, the shadows swallowed him whole.
...…
A moment later, a matching dark portal opened up in the heart of New York City.
Luke emerged slowly, shrouded in a cocoon of dark energy, rising like smoke from the portal.
"Okay… that's new," he muttered.
He glanced around.
Total chaos. Cracked streets. Smoke in the air. Buildings crumbled like paper.
If not for the silhouette of the Avengers Tower in the distance, he would've thought he got dumped in some warzone halfway across the world.
"Welp," he sighed, "guess that breakfast place's out of business."
He stared at the ruins of the small corner diner where he had just eaten earlier that morning. Only rubble remained.
But thankfully, no bodies.
"Aunt May must've bailed early. Good."
She made the best dumplings he'd ever tasted. Losing her would've been a tragedy.
"ROAR—!"
A sudden screech tore through the air.
"There's a human here!"
Two demons with jagged wings and glowing eyes noticed him. They dove in from the sky, snarling.
Luke raised an eyebrow. "Human? Seriously?"
The power he sensed from them was pathetic. Combined, they weren't even a tenth of his own.
"You guys are still calling me human? I've got more demon energy in my pinky than you've got in your whole body."
He casually waved his hand.
The shadow of a collapsed building twisted unnaturally and shot forward—two spears of pure darkness.
In a blink, the spears pierced the demons, pinning them against the wall of a half-destroyed office tower.
One strike. No mercy.
They didn't even get to scream.
As the one wielding the power of demons, Luke knew exactly where these hellspawn were weakest.
"Huh, sounds like a party over there," he muttered.
After swiftly dealing with the two demons that tried to ambush him, Luke looked up, noticing the chaos up ahead. Three F-22 fighter jets screamed across the sky.
"Wow, didn't expect the U.S. military to move this fast without an oilfield involved."
He barely finished his sentence when a blade of hellfire, crescent-shaped and burning with malevolent energy, slashed through the sky.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The three jets exploded in a fiery chain reaction, turning into nothing but smoke and sparks.
"Alright, I take that back," Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
——
"You freeloading junk heaps! Can't you aim properly?!"
On the ground, Tony Stark crawled out of a fresh crater, his suit sparking and armor plates dented. The missile meant for the demon general Belasco had missed and struck way too close.
"Sir, Mark 15—destroyed," came Jarvis's calm voice in his ear.
Tony groaned, brushing dust off his armor.
"Mark 39 Gemini—destroyed. Mark 33 Silver Centurion—destroyed. Mark 35 Red Snapper, Mark 37 Hammerhead, Mark 38 Igor—"
Each update felt like a jab to Tony's wallet and pride. One by one, his precious suits were turning into flaming debris.
But he didn't have time to mourn. With the 'Party Protocol' active, all of his remaining suits were fighting autonomously under Jarvis's command.
Still, it wasn't enough. Belasco was just too strong.
BOOM!
Hulk came crashing down from the sky, his green skin bruised and bleeding. Belasco's sword wasn't enchanted like Thor's hammer or Odin's spear, but it had power. Serious power.
One slash was enough to cut even Hulk.
"Hulk hold him back!" Hulk roared, charging again.
"No—wait, I don't think—!"
Captain America tried to intervene, assisted by two flying suits under Jarvis's control. He gave it everything he had, hoping for one of those 'fifty-fifty' moments.
But he miscalculated.
Belasco swung with brutal strength and knocked Cap out of the sky. The impact sent him spinning, and his shield nearly slipped from his grasp.
"We can't win like this!"
Black Widow coughed up blood, leaning against a wall. She hadn't even managed to take out the weakest demon.
The difference in power was overwhelming. Hopeless.
No amount of military force could change it. The demons were winning.
Then—
BZZZZZT!
Just when it felt like everything was lost, a golden portal sparked open in the middle of the battlefield.
A bald black man in a flowing robe stepped out. He wore the mark of Kamar-Taj across his chest.
Daniel Drumm.
One of the keepers of the New York Sanctum. A master of the mystic arts.
"I'll hold him off! Wait for your shot!"
Daniel raised his hands. A brilliant golden light shimmered across the battlefield. Every Avenger was coated in it.
Lightening spells. Shield charms.
Instantly, they all felt lighter, stronger.
They could leap over ten meters with ease—especially helpful for Cap and Black Widow, who couldn't fly.
"Hold up," Tony blinked, watching Daniel with disbelief.
"Is he casting actual magic spells on us? What sort of wizardry is this?!"
Even Tony Stark, a man who built tech to rival gods, couldn't help but feel his reality bend a little more.
"Ah~"
"There they are~"
Belasco didn't even blink when the magic portals opened and the sorcerers stepped through.
Of course they showed up.
These guys called themselves the protectors of Earth—would've been weird if they didn't come.
"Where's the Ancient One?" he scoffed. "What, did she send you here to die for her?"
His glare locked onto Daniel Drumm.
As fellow masters of the mystic arts, Daniel technically held the same rank—but to Belasco, he was just another bug.
Even less impressive than Wong, Belasco thought with a sneer.
"The Sorcerer Supreme knows what you've done," Daniel said firmly. "You'll meet her soon enough."
He stood tall, trying to radiate confidence. In his head, though? Chaos. Total chaos.
He had contacted the Ancient One earlier. Her reply? Cold as ice:
"Let him fix the mess he made himself."
Daniel had no idea who she meant by him.
He'd been stationed at the New York Sanctum for months—no clue what had gone down in Kamar-Taj.
That boy? What boy?
With no answers and no backup, Daniel was stuck.
He took a deep breath and braced himself.
"Ah~"
"Cut the act."
Belasco waved a hand dismissively, seeing right through the bluff.
"If she could've come, she would've. But she can't anymore, can she? Don't think I don't know—she's lost control of that power inside her."
His voice dropped, filled with mock sympathy, then rose into twisted glee.
"She can't protect herself anymore."
Belasco's laughter boomed through the battlefield.
He'd stayed cautious, delaying his attack on Earth because of her. But now?
Now she was gone. And Earth was his.
He raised a hand and blasted raw energy straight at Daniel.
Daniel clenched his fists, summoned his strength, and cast spells rapid-fire:
[Shield of Seraphim]!
[Wind of Watoomb]!
[Hosts of Hoggoth]!
The effects flared brightly, mystic symbols spinning in the air, but all of it was defense—barely holding together.
"That's it? That's all you've got?"
Belasco laughed again, power crackling around him.
His attacks rained down without mercy.
Then—
From across the shattered street, a young man strolled in.
A man with a jet-black hair, maybe mid-20s, phone in hand, snapping pictures like he was on vacation.
The chaos around him didn't seem to bother him at all.
"Hmm?"
One of the demons paused, squinting.
"Hey—wait! I know that guy!"
More demons turned, whispering, then shouting—
"It's him!"
"Mordo!"
"That's Mordo!!"
Like someone had thrown a grenade into a hornet's nest.
The swarm exploded.
All eyes, every single demon except Belasco, turned to the newcomer.
Their expressions twisted into pure hatred—bloodthirsty, burning hatred.
The kind that wanted to tear him limb from limb.
The young man lowered his phone, blinked, then smiled casually.
"Oh. Hey. Long time no see. You guys look... energetic."
It was Luke Constantine—their enemy number one.
He hadn't used his powers, hadn't done anything flashy.
But apparently, his face alone was enough to send the demon world into a frenzy.
"Man," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "You guys really hold a grudge, huh?"
And then—
"AHHHHHHH——!!!"
==============
You can check out my patreon if you want to read some advanced chapters.
patre on.com/ReaderViewPoint