The Spirit of Vengeance had no choice but to change its faith.
Herman had reforged it with his divine fire, reshaping its essence from the inside out. It was like reinstalling a brand-new operating system into a machine. The angel it once was had now become something molded entirely in Herman's image.
The will that once belonged to God's right-hand angel was erased, replaced by nothing more than a soulless Spirit of Vengeance.
This change meant the Ghost Rider's consciousness would no longer spiral into chaos. Johnny Blaze now held relative control over both the body and the power of the Ghost Rider. The Spirit of Vengeance would remain only as an "assistant," a subordinate will following Herman's command, reminding Johnny of what tasks to carry out.
In a way, it freed him. At least he would no longer have to endure the constant torment of madness.
Of course, in the days ahead, Johnny Blaze still had to wield the Spirit of Vengeance and serve as Herman's enforcer. But Herman would never treat him as harshly as Mephisto had.
...
"What… what did you do to me?"
Johnny Blaze regained control of his body, clutching his face as he spoke in a low, shaken voice.
He shed the Ghost Rider's form, flesh and blood rapidly regenerating across his skull, golden flames sparking faintly across his recovering features.
And he remembered everything.
Though his consciousness had been trapped in endless struggle within the Ghost Rider, now that he was free of its influence, every moment returned with clarity. He remembered Mephisto appearing after so many years.
The demon had commanded him to retrieve a contract, then to hunt down the killer of the Demon's Son. Johnny had been powerless to resist.
He had thought he was forever damned to be the devil's hound. Never could he have imagined that his very first mission would end like this.
The opponent… was far stronger than he ever could have imagined.
Even the Ghost Rider hadn't stood a chance.
That was the devil's most faithful enforcer—yet this man shattered him with ease. No wonder he had been able to kill Mephisto's Son.
"I granted you new life."
Herman's eyes still blazed with divine fire, his gaze pressing down on Johnny like a weight.
"For me… it's just a change of masters."
Johnny's expression twisted with complexity as he collapsed into the ruins.
This world was madness. Gods, demons—why did an ordinary man like him have to be dragged into it?
"At least I never lied to you, nor toyed with your father's life."
Herman's voice was steady. He could have chosen Mephisto's path, forcing Johnny into submission. But if possible, he preferred loyalty freely given.
"You sure know a lot, huh? Mind reading, right?"
Johnny showed no surprise. The Ghost Rider had already proved this much.
He tilted his head, exhaustion heavy in his eyes.
"Before dragging people into this mess… can't you gods and devils ever ask if we want it?"
It was clear Johnny now saw Herman as something on Mephisto's level. His limited knowledge couldn't tell if Herman had ever left a mark in myth, but his years studying demon contracts had left him well-versed in legends.
"This is your fate. Even without me, without Mephisto, someone else—something stranger—would have come for you."
Herman wasn't lying.
Johnny Blaze was special.
As special as the Spirit of Vengeance that carried the remnant soul of Zarathos, an Ancient Demon Lord.
The power of his Ghost Rider form wasn't only because of the Spirit of Vengeance—it was also because he was a descendant of the Medallion of Power lineage.
That alone meant, pact or no pact, some Dimensional Demon God would have eventually set their sights on him.
"Me? I'm actually in demand now?"
Johnny let out a bitter laugh. He didn't doubt Herman's words—there was no need for lies.
The Spirit of Vengeance inside him might no longer be insane, but it had become something worse: a zealot, a fanatic endlessly driving him to carry out Herman's will.
Herman didn't need to persuade him. All he had to do was give the order.
And whether Johnny Blaze wanted to or not, he would obey.
"Of course, your ancestors weren't ordinary people. They achieved something truly extraordinary—sealing away and fighting the demon I just pulled from your body… That was no small creature, but a powerhouse among demons."
Herman explained patiently.
"And yet you managed to finish off something that strong?" Johnny Blaze curled his lip but still listened closely.
"Heh, it was only a lingering soul…" Herman showed no pride in it. Instead, he continued telling Johnny a story.
In Earth's earliest days, God had created the first Spirits of Vengeance. Their purpose was to fight against the elemental demon lords who appeared on Earth, endlessly seeking the Medallion of Power—one of them being Zarathos, the very being Herman had slain.
The Medallion of Power was a legendary artifact, forged before the fall of Atlantis. Though it wasn't as overwhelmingly powerful as the Power Stone, as an ancient relic it still carried enough value to make even Dimensional Demon Gods covet it.
The Spirits of Vengeance had been created specifically to stop Zarathos, and the war between angels and demons had been brutal beyond measure.
In the end, countless Spirits of Vengeance perished, while Zarathos was struck down and sealed into the form of a stone statue. The surviving Spirits of Vengeance fused their own power with fragments of Zarathos' essence, binding it within the Medallion of Power. It was this act that caused parts of Zarathos' soul to linger within certain powerful Spirits of Vengeance.
After the war, the power of the Medallion of Power was passed down through bloodlines, carried by special families all the way into the modern day—the twenty-first century.
"My ancestors were really that incredible? Looks like I've done nothing but shame their name." Johnny Blaze was left speechless after hearing the story.
If he hadn't just witnessed Herman's terrifying strength firsthand through the Ghost Rider's vision, he might have written him off as some kind of fantasy storyteller.
"You're not weak… and I wouldn't waste my time on anyone who was." Herman reassured him, fully aware that Johnny was far more than just special.
This Ghost Rider was the only one who, after defying Mephisto, had still wielded the Ghost Rider's power to save countless innocents.
That fact alone proved Johnny Blaze was no failure. He had honored the blood running through his veins and even managed to outwit Mephisto more than once.
"After telling me all this and laying out my family's history, what is it you actually want from me?"
"Am I supposed to hunt someone for you? Or help you find something?" Johnny leaned against a collapsed pillar, his tone heavy.
"Loyalty. What I want is loyalty."
Herman repeated the same words he had once spoken to Wanda and Quicksilver.
"Buddy, you can't force loyalty."
Johnny studied him carefully, unable to grasp his true meaning. This godlike being could easily bend him to his will if he wanted.
"You give me loyalty, I give you my word. Call it a trade." Herman shrugged casually.
"The last man who made me a promise… that didn't exactly end well." Johnny's smile was bitter.
He was, of course, speaking of Mephisto.
"I'm neither a devil nor a demon, so I don't take pleasure in deceiving people like they do." Herman let out a quiet chuckle.
Johnny Blaze seemed resigned. He knew that no matter what happened, he could never return to the simple, beautiful life he once had.
"What promise do you want to give me?"
Johnny looked at Herman earnestly.
"One day in the future, you'll have the chance to save your father's soul. And until then, I won't interfere with the kind of life you choose to live.
You can marry, have children, enjoy everything good in this world. Even your descendants will receive my protection."
Herman didn't need to read Johnny's thoughts to know what he longed for. He laid out terms that made Johnny's heart pound.
"You mean to take on Mephisto?"
Johnny knew his father's soul had to be trapped in Mephisto's hell. He had never dared imagine he could fight back against such a devil.
But now, hearing Herman's promise, a path he had never considered before suddenly opened in his mind.
"Him and me... weren't we already destined to fight to the end?" Herman neither confirmed nor denied it. He too desired the power Mephisto held.
Perhaps, once Mephisto was devoured and turned into fuel for the Divinity Flame, it would awaken the overwhelming force now slumbering within him.
The power of a God-King.
Herman wasn't gathering followers out of boredom. He was walking a path separate from every existing pantheon.
To claim the mantle of a god-king, he would need to build a pantheon of his own. He had to become a king surrounded by gods.
Back in the beginning, god-kings like Odin and Zeus had all walked the same road.
"It really is a tempting offer... I suppose I don't have the right to refuse, do I?" Johnny struggled with the decision for a long time. Staring into Herman's seemingly sincere gaze, he clenched his teeth and finally chose to place his trust in the man before him.
The promise was too enticing. Even after being burned once, he couldn't find a reason to say no.
His father's soul.
The chance at a better life.
And this man, who showed not a hint of Mephisto's cowardice, might actually let him witness a miracle.
"Deal!"
Herman sealed the agreement with a bright smile. At that moment, Johnny's thoughts drifted to the first love he had let slip away.
Of course.
The moment he saw a glimmer of hope, his first thought was rekindling that lost romance. Herman didn't call him out on it.
He wasn't the type to break apart lovers. Seeing how smoothly things had gone, he had no intention of keeping Johnny here any longer.
"You're really just letting me walk away like this?"
Johnny Blaze felt his new boss was almost too easygoing.
"If I have a task for you, you'll get it… The Spirit of Vengeance in your head will pass along my orders."
Herman brushed the dust off his suit. Even though it was custom-made, it was now little more than rags. He made a mental note to figure out how to design clothes that couldn't be destroyed. Maybe he could borrow a trick from the Hulk's indestructible pants?
If he hadn't protected his clothes with his powers earlier, he'd probably be naked by now. He really envied Superman and his ever-durable outfit.
"Oh, right. If you ever need to find me, just head to Stellar Tower. Unless something unusual comes up, I'll usually be there."
Satisfied, Herman was about to leave when he remembered something and called out to Johnny, who had just climbed onto his motorcycle.
"Huh? Stellar Tower?"
Johnny was stunned.
He'd assumed someone like Herman would either live in the heavens or in some private dimension of his own.
Like Mephisto, who spent his downtime in hell.
But… Stellar Tower? That was just a famous office building in New York. Wasn't that where a company recently filmed the hit show The Boys?
"Didn't I introduce myself?"
Herman noticed Johnny's bewildered expression. He straightened his ruined clothes and spoke with all seriousness.
"I'm a professional director. Stellar Tower is where I work and live. Haven't you seen The Boys?"
Johnny stared hard at Herman's face.
Good lord. Wasn't this the spitting image of Homelander, the unhinged tyrant from that show?
Now Johnny was even more confused.
He didn't blame himself for not recognizing him sooner. After all, who would ever imagine that a mysterious, terrifyingly powerful being could also be… an actor?
Oh.
And not just an actor—a big-name director. Johnny's expression twisted into something unreadable. Sure, those titles carried prestige in the mortal world.
But this was the same man who stomped the Ghost Rider into the ground and dismissed Mephisto like he was nothing.
Forget claiming a seat in the heavens, watching centuries pass—saying he lived on the moon would've been easier to accept than him casually announcing he made movies in New York.
"Almost forgot. Send me your bank card. Since you're my employee now, I'll be paying you a salary. That's standard for all my subordinates."
Herman's next words nearly broke Johnny's brain.
A salary?
Seriously?
"How much?"
It wasn't greed—his mind just froze up, and the words slipped out automatically.
"We run on performance pay. If you're just on base salary, you'll probably take home five or six grand a month."
In New York, that was already considered a solid white-collar wage. Herman always believed in rewarding effort and was generous with bonuses.
Carrie, for example, who handled finances, took home over ten thousand a month. Of course, to her, that was probably just a few days of meals—but across New York, salaries like that were rare.
And this was still the early 2000s.
"Actually, we're short a driver. If you ever feel like chauffeuring, I'll bump your pay."
Herman thought about his fleet of luxury cars, including a Lincoln stretch limo. Honestly, no one was more suited for the role than the Ghost Rider himself.
"..."
Johnny listened silently, his mind flooding with curses.
Base pay? Performance bonuses?
If he wasn't sober, he'd have thought he wasn't pledging himself to some cosmic powerhouse, but interviewing for a factory job tightening screws.
Had the supernatural world gotten this modern?
Johnny stared at Herman, completely at a loss.
Maybe… this was just how the big players toyed with life.
Still, compared to a devil who made his underlings work for free, Herman's offer was starting to sound pretty damn good.
...
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