DC: Chapter 197/198

Chapter 197: Batman vs. Constantine

The environment was dim.

The sky rumbled endlessly, and the dark clouds churned like a beast, growling in unrest.

On Tesco Verier Island, over 90% of the year was spent under this kind of turbulent sky—rolling clouds and relentless flashes of lightning that carried an ominous, bone-deep unease.

Now, with Bruce's lightning rod in place, electrical charge rattled across its frame. Silver arcs crackled around it, the magnetic field turning unstable. The weeds on the grass stood upright, affected by the force. The chaotic buildup of magnetic charge seemed to be calling to the dark clouds above.

Boom, rumble…

The arc of electricity gathered near Barry stirred the thunderclouds overhead. A pale light flashed inside the thick clouds, like a ghostly beast trying to claw its way free. It was terrifying.

Cold wind howled, sweeping through their disheveled hair.

Boom!

A bolt of lightning crashed down, its pale flash lighting up the entire forest.

It struck in the distance, blasting rock, bursting soil, and leaving behind a charred crater. Sparks leapt across wet grass, igniting it briefly.

The pale light reflected off the faces of Bruce and Constantine.

"John!"

Bruce's voice was low. The wind whipped through his black hair, the chill biting at his skin like needles. His eyes were filled with regret and a calm, simmering rage.

This wasn't the John he knew, the foul-mouthed magician.

What stood before him now was a young English gentleman, elegant and charming, his handsome face defined. Though the wind tousled his blond hair and flared the hem of his trench coat, it only made him look more refined and charismatic.

"I don't know you that well. Please, call me Mr. Constantine."

Constantine smiled gracefully. The cigarette between his fingers flickered in the cold wind. His trench coat flapped behind him, the golden hair gleaming faintly, his posture gentlemanly and poised.

Bruce's expression grew colder. A chill rose in his chest. He hated what Bardi had done to Constantine.

He had twisted everything—people, identities, even the hearts of heroes.

This was not Constantine.

Everyone knew Constantine as a bastard—unruly, sloppily dressed, stubble on his chin. A cynical drifter, the type of man whose rugged charm drew in curious women. That was Constantine.

And now? What was this gentleman nonsense?

In truth, Bardi had found Constantine's image intolerable. Under his rule, everything had to follow order, and behavior had to be proper.

Bardi, obsessed with control, couldn't stand a rule-breaker like Constantine. His mere appearance made Bardi want to slap him dead on the spot.

So he took Constantine at age twelve, guided by magic from an early age, and subjected him to spiritual manipulation. Seven years of twisting, bending, confusing, and guiding—until he had shaped him into an obedient gentleman.

Thus, the charming, disciplined, and thoroughly reformed Constantine was born.

"It's over."

Constantine maintained his gentlemanly smile. The cigarette between his fingers flickered before the wind caught the sparks and blew them into a growing flame, swelling rapidly into a half-human-sized fireball.

The fireball radiated intense heat, dispelling the cold air around them. In an instant, searing light bathed the gloomy scene in fiery red.

Bruce felt the scorching heat immediately. The exposed skin on his face stung, tiny facial hairs curling and burning under the intensity. A faint smell of singed flesh rose into the air.

The moment the fireball expanded, Bruce's eyes narrowed coldly. The folded bat wings on his back sprang open. He ripped them free and hurled them toward the fireball.

His whole body tucked and rolled.

Bang!

The bat wing met the fireball, triggering a violent explosion. Though covered with a fireproof membrane, the wings were no match for magical force. They were instantly torn to shreds and scattered like rags. The intense heat wave erupted outward, carving a charred crater in the grass and sending sparks flying in all directions, igniting the damp weeds nearby.

The shockwave flung Constantine's trench coat wildly behind him, forcing him a step back, his eyes narrowing.

Bruce tumbled with the force, his armor absorbing most of the impact. Some of it pressed against his body, but he endured. Mid-roll, he pulled two Bat-darts from his waist and hurled them at Constantine.

The darts were off-target, but they forced Constantine to pause. They whizzed past and shot into the sky.

When Batman stood up from his roll, he already held two modified black pistols, firing BB-like projectiles at Constantine. These weren't toys. They exploded mid-air, releasing a cloud of gray-green smoke around Constantine.

Fear gas.

In future memories, Bruce had faced Scarecrow, captured him, and learned the formula for the gas.

Crack, snap, snap.

As Bruce rose, Constantine raised an eyebrow. He tossed the cigarette into the air and snapped his fingers three times.

A crisp sound rang through the space, echoing in both their minds.

The roiling cloud of fear gas, churning, froze in place just five centimeters from his body.

Time seemed to stop.

Time frozen.

Bruce, the gas, and the very air all stood still. Nothing moved.

In reality, it was only air manipulation magic, nowhere near actual time-freeze.

But the air instantly became heavy, pressing down on Bruce with crushing weight.

Hoo…

In that moment, Bruce dropped to one knee.

The air had turned to pressure. Even with the strength to deadlift and press 800 pounds, Bruce couldn't resist it. His muscles tensed, veins bulged under the skin like writhing serpents. Under his chin, arteries pulsed visibly beneath the kevlar armor. He knelt, face soaked with sweat.

His heart felt like it was about to explode. The rumbling in his ears drowned out everything. He could hear nothing but his own blood, his heartbeat painfully loud. He couldn't breathe. Suffocation closed in.

No matter how straight his spine, it couldn't withstand the crushing pressure. He was pressed to the ground. Capillaries burst, eyes bulged, blood vessels broke in the whites of his eyes. Sweat mixed with blood seeped from every pore.

Constantine stood above him, looking down coldly at Bruce, who was flattened under the spell of compressed air.

Bruce couldn't speak. His teeth clenched tightly. He couldn't resist the gravity of this magic. Not even enough strength to move a finger.

Under this pressure, five seconds was enough to kill even the strongest human through internal organ rupture.

But in the second second, behind Constantine, the pair of Bat-darts already sparked with blue electric arcs. They crossed paths in midair and spun toward his back.

Above, the thunderclouds stirred. Lightning roared and churned, drawn by the signal from the Bat-darts.

(To be continued.)

Chapter 198: Thunder, Speed

Constantine turned calmly. With a flick of his left hand, the gust of wind surged like a real river. The airflow rushed toward the two Bat-darts, now spinning and sparking with arcs.

At the same time, he raised his right hand over his shoulder. With a backward motion, he held the cigarette between his fingers with refined ease, puffing it gently and squinting toward the sky.

The wind ruffled his golden hair and lifted the hem of his trench coat. Above him, massive dark clouds rolled overhead, boundless and oppressive, dwarfing him like a tiny ant beneath the sky. Thunder flickered within the clouds, growing ever more restless.

"Small trick."

The corner of Constantine's lips twitched slightly. Calm and composed, he showed no surprise at what was about to happen.

He had undergone thousands of simulated battles. On average, he faced 60 simulated encounters per day, each involving a different type of power—mind, speed, flame, frost, rock, physical combat, magic. A variety of strange and formidable abilities.

Constantine's combat experience had been honed in those lifelike simulations. He could face any opponent with calm precision.

To him, this fight was child's play.

In that moment, Constantine released the pressure magic holding Bruce down. Blue Achalas runes flashed on his windbreaker, interwoven with Greek script, and the Ω symbol on his back glowed with a soft blue light, forming a protective magic circle.

A blue magical shield enveloped him instantly.

And at that moment...

The thunderclouds above released their fury. A thick bolt of lightning crashed toward the Bat-darts, slamming down with tremendous force.

The gust of wind Constantine summoned was instantly dispersed. The blinding silver-white lightning struck the Bat-darts midair.

Boom!

The lightning's extreme heat caused the surrounding air to expand violently. The shockwaves burst out, creating explosive gusts.

The instant the Bat-darts made contact with the lightning, they were obliterated in a fiery explosion.

The tremendous impact slammed into Constantine's shield head-on, creating massive ripples across the barrier. From such a close range, the air explosion forced Constantine to recoil.

His knees bent slightly, spine leaning forward, body tilted to the right, arms raised in defense.

The soles of his shoes carved out two long trenches in the ground. His trench coat dragged behind him. He was pushed back 13 meters before his stance stabilized. The coat fluttered briefly in the backdraft.

As he retreated, the magical shield shimmered with continuous ripples, which gradually faded and vanished as Constantine came to a halt.

He stood straight again, calm and unfazed, expression unchanged. The shield had blocked most of the shockwaves and sound. Only a portion of his magical energy had been consumed.

But Bruce, not far away, was not as lucky.

He had already been rendered immobile by Constantine's gravity magic. Now, he took the brunt of the lightning's force from close range. His body was launched and hurled nearly 30 meters away. He couldn't even stand. His eardrums buzzed violently, everything around him drowned in static. Temporarily deaf, the soundwaves had overwhelmed him. His eyes were bloodshot and bulging, on the brink of unconsciousness.

"Barry…"

Bruce gritted his teeth, groaning. His iron will forced his pain-wracked body to stay conscious. Though deafened and reeling from the pain, his eyes—flooded with blood—searched for Barry through the red veil of his vision.

Unexpectedly, Barry's gaze was fixed on him. The two locked eyes.

Bruce was stunned for a moment. The corners of his mouth twitched upward weakly. His blood-filled eyes conveyed an unyielding resolve.

Never give in.

Barry looked at Bruce, pain etched in his expression.

They could do nothing but stare at each other, powerless to help.

Seeing Bruce like this, Barry felt like his heart had been torn apart. Tears welled in his eyes. He clenched his teeth in anguish and rage.

Barry whimpered, his sorrow turning to fury at the one responsible for all of this.

The man who brought Bruce to the brink of death.

Give me speed!
The Speed Force!
Let me save Bruce!

Barry screamed in his heart, begging for power—for speed.

He needed to become The Flash.

At that moment...

The lightning triggered by the Bat-darts became completely violent.

Dark clouds churned above. Thunder exploded.

Constantine suddenly felt a jolt down his spine. His skin prickled. Every nerve screamed danger.

Barry's lightning rod had built up too much charge.

Arcs surged in every direction. Dust rose from the ground, weightless. Grass blades stood upright, as if trying to leap into the air.

The whole scene resembled Barry's ascension. The clouds overhead swirled endlessly, forming a shallow funnel, spiraling downward toward Barry.

A terrifying, doomsday thunderstorm brewed, ready to tear the sky apart.

Constantine took a deep breath. The world seemed to howl for this moment. Thunder arcs lit the clouds. Electric serpents danced in violent fury.

Startled, Constantine quickly cast another magic circle. His feet lifted from the ground as he flew backward, retreating swiftly, unwilling to remain near the blast zone.

The next instant, the unexpected occurred.

The sky wept thunder.

From the swirling clouds above, a torrent of lightning condensed into a monstrous bolt. Like the eruption of a dying star, it tore through the sky with the roar of a celestial dragon, plunging toward the earth.

It struck with the force of creation itself.

Air exploded under the force. Shockwaves tore outward. Trees were uprooted. Grass flattened violently beneath the blast.

The silver-white lightning connected heaven and earth in a single, blinding beam.

Barry was swallowed whole. His body floated in the current. He screamed in agony. His skin, muscles, and bones cracked and shattered, his form lost to the storm.

When the bolt struck, Bruce's eyes were seared by the flash. The intense silver light stabbed his eyes like needles. Even with his eyelids shut, everything was a blinding white.

Then the shockwave hit. Grass, trees, and debris swept up his battered body.

Still, he gritted his teeth... and lost consciousness mid-air.

He crashed into a heap of shattered trees. Whether he lived or died, no one could say.

The lightning strike was instantaneous, and just as quickly, it vanished.

The world fell into silence.

Barry floated in the sky, now charred black, his entire body reduced to burnt remains, falling slowly.

Constantine stood in the distance atop a massive, half-uprooted tree. His spine was straight. His trench coat fluttered behind him. He looked up slightly, eyes squinting as Barry's scorched body fell.

Just before it hit the ground, the corpse suddenly twisted mid-air.

With fists clenched, one knee dropped to the earth in a kneel. Lightning crackled.

From beneath Barry's feet, yellow arcs erupted and surged. Dust rose, suspended in the weightless current.

The yellow lightning danced across Barry's skin and hair like a furious lion. With each strike, the ground trembled. The air filled with a suffocating, electrified fury.

Barry raised his head. His hair surged skyward. His face twisted in rage. His eyes blazed with red lightning threads. Yellow arcs flashed violently as his fury exploded.

"John, you dared to hurt Bruce!!!
I'll kill you!!"

Boom!

(To be continued.)