Boom—
The night sky erupted in shimmering golden sparks. The undead disintegrated one by one, vanishing into tiny specks of light that glittered like fireworks across the ruined townscape.
It was a strangely beautiful sight.
This town, located more than ten kilometers away from Basel, was no longer recognizable. Once full of life, now everything—houses, trees, streets—had been reduced to rubble. A desolate war zone cloaked in magical fog.
Amid the destruction, Bella stood silently. After the final burst of holy energy, she holstered her dual pistols—one glowing red, the other a pure white—and hooked them onto the side of her motorcycle. Then she moved over to the bike's seat and sat down, her hands resting loosely on her lap, legs together, eyes gazing forward into the aftermath.
Her chest rose and fell steadily. The battle was over—for now.
Moments later, the sound of engines roared in the distance.
A massive armored vehicle approached, kicking up dust and crushed rock as it rolled forward. Eight meters long, three meters tall and equally wide, the vehicle looked more like a modern war tank than a personnel carrier. It was square, heavy, and reinforced for hellish combat zones like this one.
From the hatch on the roof, Barton popped out, his upper body exposed. He spotted Bella immediately and smiled—an expression rare on his hardened, stoic face. He was a fighter to the core, but even warriors had a soft spot for their comrades, especially those as formidable as Bella.
As the vehicle came to a halt, its rear doors opened with a mechanical hiss. Several superheroes, each clad in combat armor infused with holy light, stepped out one by one. They gave Bella respectful nods—none of them bothered with words. Her presence spoke for itself.
"Did you really kill all those hellspawn?" the Punisher called out from inside the vehicle. He didn't bother getting out, just leaned against the open window, peering up at the floating golden dust that still lingered in the air like descending stars.
Bella gave a silent nod.
No one questioned her. They didn't need to.
Everyone here knew Bella's personality. Cold, reserved, and efficient—but not heartless. People like Blade, the Punisher, and even Jessica Jones shared that distant temperament. There was mutual understanding in their silence.
"How's the situation?" Barton finally asked, his voice low but concerned.
"Not good," Bella replied, her tone flat.
Without elaborating further, she kicked the motorcycle into motion. The engine growled, and the bike shot forward, speeding down the cracked road toward the nearby town of Bath.
The others quickly piled back into their vehicles, and the Punisher slammed his foot on the gas to follow.
It wasn't long before they reached the outskirts of Bath—the only accessible road in and out of the town. But what greeted them made everyone's heart sink.
Before them stood a towering, blood-red barrier. It stretched high into the sky and spanned the entire island-like layout of the town, forming a perfect dome of pulsing infernal light.
Everyone climbed out, weapons in hand, their faces grim. The sight of the barrier was enough to make even the most seasoned warriors nervous.
"If Stark were here, maybe he could figure out what the hell this thing is," Punisher muttered as he slung a rifle over his shoulder.
He caught himself. "Sorry. Iron Man."
The small correction caught Bella's ear. Her gaze flickered toward him, then toward the rest of the group—many of whom nodded in agreement.
Iron Man.
Tony Stark, the once-infamous billionaire playboy, had earned their respect. It wasn't just his intelligence or the suits—he had proven himself in the field. In battle.
Bella nodded to herself. Tony might not realize it, but he had it in him from the beginning.
"This town is the center of it all," she said, eyes locked on the red barrier. "We have to break it."
"No," came a gruff voice from the side.
Everyone turned. An old witcher stepped forward. His gray hair was wild, and two shotguns were strapped to his back. Despite his age, his posture was firm and his eyes alert.
"This is no ordinary barrier," he explained. "There's a record of something similar in the Book of Demons. It's constructed using a massive array of hellfire magic. The moment you touch it—your soul burns. The infection is instant. If we try to brute-force it, the entire backlash will be shared with everyone inside the circle."
"So... no way in?" Barton asked, frowning.
The witcher glanced at Bella. "Maybe one. If the Goddess of Judgment goes all out... she might be able to break it."
All eyes turned to Bella again.
She didn't hesitate.
"I can destroy it," she said simply. "But afterward, I'll be weakened. I'll need time to recover."
Realization dawned on the group. The forty minutes she had spent inside the fog earlier—she hadn't just been fighting. She had been buying time. Waiting for them.
No one spoke for a moment.
Then Jessica broke the silence. "Let's get it done, then. The sooner the better."
"Everyone back up," Bella ordered. "At least one kilometer. It's going to get violent."
The group quickly complied. They loaded into the vehicles and began backing away. Jessica, after securing permission, jumped on a spare motorcycle and followed them at a safe distance.
They parked at a kilometer's range, watching the lone figure of Bella as she stood on the cracked road, facing the blood-red dome of magic.
Now came the real test.
Bella closed her eyes.
A deep breath. A moment of stillness.
Golden currents began to swirl around her, dancing like fireflies in a midnight breeze. The air shimmered with energy, as if the stars themselves were bending toward her.
Then—
BOOM!
A wave of unimaginable pressure exploded outward.
The ground shook violently, as if an earthquake had torn through the land. Rocks and debris lifted into the air, suspended by invisible forces. Even the black mist surrounding the battlefield was forcefully pushed back.
From a distance, it looked like the world itself was bowing to her presence.
Her black battle dress clung to her body, rippling in the magical winds. Her golden hair lifted skyward, glowing like fire beneath a storm cloud.
Even from a thousand meters away, the impact was undeniable.
The air grew heavier. The wind turned violent, whipping around like a hurricane.
Everyone instinctively raised their arms, shielding their faces. Some who had dared to step outside their vehicles now regretted it, barely managing to stay upright.
A few younger demon hunters were physically blown back, dragged nearly two meters by the sheer force of Bella's magical aura.
"This is insane," someone muttered.
"You can feel that oppressive power from here," Daredevil added. "I can sense her aura—so sharp, so powerful... If you were standing in front of her, you'd lose the will to fight before you even moved."
No one disagreed.
They had all known Bella was powerful. But seeing it—feeling it—was something else entirely.
"She's... a force of nature," one of the agents whispered.
Jessica crossed her arms and stared ahead, her expression unreadable.
"Good thing she's human," she said.
But she didn't finish the thought out loud.
If she weren't...
If she were anything but human...
We'd all be doomed.
Because standing against someone like Bella didn't bring hope.
It brought despair.
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