Game in Marvel

"Who the fuck are you?" Radovid asked in disgust and anger. He had been holding on to the anger he had harbored for so many years now. Starting from Phillipa and now to all the sorcerers in the whole world. He remembered how she had psychologically tortured him, making him feel less of a man and more as a pussy. 

Someone to be used like a puppet. He would never forget it till his death. He wanted to kill each and every one of them, until none remained and now there was greed too, in the mixture. The Nilfgaardians had been breathing down their neck and soon they would charge into Redenia. 

Thus having weapons could change many things.

"Liam Woodsworth, from New York," Liam replied. Radovid went into thinking mode, trying to recall any place of the name New York in it, but couldn't remember any such name. 

"If you know what is good for you, then you will step aside and let Redenia redeem itself from the witchcraft and bring an end to the chaos all around." Radovid spoke big words, not only to intimidate but also take the high ground among the soldiers. Their kingdom had been plagued by politics of sorcerers. 

"Radovid.." Liam spoke in a slow tone and then a knight pointed his long spear at Liam and roared from beneath the steel helmet.

"It's King Radovid for you." 

"It's alright David, we can look over the disrespect of the peasants." Radovid said, while still holding a smirk. The soldiers behind him gave him confidence like no other. Liam's eyebrow raised a bit but didn't refute his words and said. 

"You must be really desperate to get rid of some sorcerers since you came from such a long way and with that huge of an army to kill us. Aren't you afraid that the Nilfgaard will attack your precious homes and loot you." Liam mocked. 

"Hah. Once I get my hands on the magic weapons, those Nilfgaardians can go suck some teats of hags." Radovid said. Liam tilted his head and just summoned his armor and promptly went inside. Radovid didn't think much of the armor that had appeared. And though these huge armor might look intimidating but it also meant they would be too difficult to maneuver. 

In fact when the javelin armor was summoned they got scared as they thought Liam was a great sorcerer and even expected the armor to walk in by itself or something, but once Liam got inside, many of the soldiers just laughed out loud. Metal wasn't always a great conductor of magic and Liam using it meant, he was more handicapped than ever before.

Steve and others who had been ready stood beside Liam only to be told by Liam. 

"This isn't your battle. It's mine." His voice was low. "You've fought your wars. This... this is a trial for me. A test."

"Can you take them on?" Geralt asked as he had seen what this armor could do as shown by Tony once. 

"Trust me." Liam said. Liam turned to Triss and Keira. "Shield. Now."

"Liam—" Triss began.

"Do it!"

Without another word, the two raised their hands. A shimmering dome of magic engulfed the group, a translucent orange barrier crackling with energy. The moment it snapped into place, Liam shot forward.

And then, the horror began.

Liam moved like a blur. The enhanced Interceptor Javelin made him nothing less than a specter of death. He was faster than the eye could follow—one second, he was near the group and the other second he was inside the ranks of Radovid's army.

He landed in a crouch, his sleek rifle already raised.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Redanian soldiers dropped like flies, their bodies jerking violently as bullets tore through armor, muscle, and bone. The men barely had time to react before Liam switched to full auto—his rifle screaming death as he cut down entire rows of soldiers in seconds.

"What the—?!"

"Dark magic!"

The soldiers panicked, their discipline cracking instantly. They had never seen anything like this. Not magic, not sorcery—this was something else.

A sergeant's face exploded in a mist of red. The soldier beside him collapsed as a bullet tore through his throat, gurgling as he clutched his ruined windpipe. Another was blown off his feet, his breastplate crumpling inward as Liam's shot ripped through steel and flesh like paper.

"What in the—"

The soldiers turned, but Liam was already gone.

He vaulted over a stunned pikeman, spun mid-air, and emptied the rest of his magazine straight down. The Redanian's helmet cracked like an egg, his skull pulped before he even hit the ground.

Liam landed lightly, holstering the rifle in a single fluid motion. Now the real work begins.

Blades slid free from his armor ash dashed forward. A Redanian captain, dressed in finer armor, roared as he swung his longsword. Liam tilted his head, sidestepped, and slashed—his blade carving through steel, bone, and flesh in a single seamless cut.

The captain froze, eyes wide with confusion—then his upper body slid off his waist, sizzling as his insides spilled onto the snow. Liam didn't stop. He twisted, parrying another soldier's wild slash before driving his second sword through the man's gut. The soldier gasped, eyes bulging as the blade burned through him.

Liam kicked the corpse off his weapon and spun into another group. His blades sang—one slash, two slashes, three—

Limbs flew. Bodies dropped. Blood sprayed in wide arcs, steaming as it hit the cold ground.

The screams started.

Some fought. Some ran. Some simply froze, paralyzed by the horror unfolding before them. The thrusters in his Javelin flared, sending him streaking across the battlefield

A group of archers tried to draw their bows—

Too slow.

Liam's wrist-mounted turret shot icicles. A torrent of compressed and hard ice eviscerated them. More soldiers surged forward, trying to overwhelm him.

Liam smirked.

His shock pulse detonated. A wave of raw energy erupted from his Javelin, hurling dozens of men into the air. Their armor crackled, their bodies twitching as the energy coursed through them. Some hit the ground as corpses, smoke curling from their mouths. Others lay twitching, eyes staring at nothing.