DC: Chapter 128/129

Chapter 128

This is too fast.

Bardi had just fallen into the mental world, yet in just two or three seconds, he broke through.

He accepted the structure of the mind magic, but he had set the outcome from the beginning. It ended as soon as it began.

Anyone who falls into mind magic, no matter who they are, will be subjected to countless fears, pains, loves, happinesses, and more. Within it, a cycle is created, guiding and drawing the soul's will deeper and deeper, making it nearly impossible to escape the magic's pull.

In the world shaped by mind magic:

The joyful will revel in their happiness.

The fearful will tremble in terror.

The pained will weep in agony.

Those in love will remain entangled with their lovers.


Once trapped, no being can easily escape the mind magic's influence and control.

Even negative emotions like fear and pain are not so simple to break free from. The human psyche has a masochistic tendency, extracting a twisted form of pleasure from suffering and fear. When amplified by the spiritual world, one unconsciously falls into a cycle—fearing, hurting, and yet finding a painful solace in it.

Yet Bardi defied expectations.

Even Zatara and Raven had no idea what he experienced in that moment within the world. Why had it ended in just two seconds?

Zatara was certain that there was nothing wrong with his spell. For a brief instant, Bardi had indeed been trapped, completely at the mercy of others. But in just two seconds, it was over.

Too fast.

There was no precedent for this.

It was as if, in that fleeting moment, Bardi had already experienced all the happiness, all the fear, all the pain, all the love, every most extreme emotion. And after enduring it all, his will had been tempered to an unshakable, rock-solid state. The world collapsed, reality reasserted itself, and the burning crimson gaze of his heat vision burst forth.

It was as though he had been honed by the most intense emotions of hell, experiencing them all in an instant.

This man is terrifying.

High above, Zatara gazed down, his usually composed face unable to hide his shock. Bardi had shaken him to his core.

If a person's will could be visualized, if ordinary people were mere sheep and magicians like Zatara were towering skyscrapers, then Bardi was the sun, the stars… or perhaps a black hole, drawing everything into his abyss.

Raven's eyes flickered slightly in surprise. Even she didn't know what had just happened to Bardi.

But with such an indomitable will, he could likely endure the assault of Trigon. Within the mental world, Bardi would hold the advantage. If Trigon's attack power were significantly weakened, he might even be able to seal the projection.

She nodded slightly, then lowered her gaze and continued eating her chocolate.

Unless something unexpected happened, this battle between the Kryptonian warrior and the magician was already decided.

The outcome was inevitable.

The magician had already taken to the skies, launching long-range magical attacks, reducing Bardi to a stationary target.

Just as Raven expected. Against Bardi who lacked flight and with magic specifically designed to counter Kryptonian physiology, the magician's control over elemental forces became fully evident.

On the grasslands, black energy surged, and razor-sharp earthen spikes erupted from the ground, relentlessly tracking Bardi's every movement.

In the forest, trees suddenly came alive, transforming into towering treants. Their massive branches lashed out, trying to hinder Bardi's movements.

Vines slithered through the night like thousands of writhing serpents, pursuing him relentlessly.

From above, a meteor streaked across the sky, its tail ablaze with fire, crashing down with explosive force. The impact turned the landscape into an inferno, sending debris flying, creating an apocalyptic scene in an instant.

Yet Bardi countered each attack with sheer combat experience, battle instinct, and overwhelming power. He unleashed bursts of heat vision, obliterating obstacles. With raw strength, he tore through the treants. And with precise movements, he dodged the relentless assault as much as possible.

But then, the rain came.

And with it, the water turned to ice, sharpened into countless needle-like shards, covering every inch of space. There was no way to evade them.

Of course, such widespread magic couldn't truly harm Bardi. The damage was minimal. But even so, the ice needles embedded into his body, leaving him bloodied, resembling a human pincushion.

And yet, Bardi still stood amidst the ruined wilderness.

Around him, flames from the meteor still burned. Ice needles jutted out from the shattered, uneven ground. The battlefield was a chaotic blend of fire and frost.

His body trembled once, sending ice shards scattering. Mist rose around him, partially obscuring his towering figure.

His expression remained unreadable as he lifted his gaze, locking onto Zatara with cold, calculating eyes.

He was waiting.

Waiting to see what spell Zatara would cast next.

For him, this was an opportunity, a chance to analyze a magician's combat style, to study and memorize their techniques.

The more he could force his opponent to reveal, the more prepared he would be in the future.

Next time, when he was ready victory would be his.

Zatara frowned.

Dealing with Bardi was proving to be too difficult. His combat awareness was exceptional, and his recovery ability was astonishing.

Powerful single-target magic was clearly dangerous, and Bardi knew it. He relied on his combat instincts and experience to evade every attack, step by step.

Take the meteor magic from earlier, the spell had immense power, and the magical energy contained within it was enough to pose a real threat to Bardi's life.

But in mid-air, Bardi instantly calculated the meteor's landing point, factoring in physical inertia, kinetic energy, and even the strange magical reactions from the flames created by friction.

And he dodged in advance.

That made things extremely frustrating for Zatara.

He had barely condensed the meteorite when Bardi had already repositioned himself, making it impossible to land a direct hit.

Even when Zatara tried adjusting the meteor's trajectory mid-flight with magic, Bardi immediately noticed and adjusted his own movements accordingly. No matter how he tried to angle the attack, Bardi adapted, making a direct hit impossible.

This battlefield data collection, real-time calculations, and near-supernatural combat intuition left Zatara at a loss. Even with the advantage, he had no effective way to deal with Bardi.

After all, if he flew too high, his spell trajectories became too obvious.

But if he flew too low, it would be even worse, Bardi could leap up and strike him down.

So, Zatara frowned and cast another spell, one that manipulated the five senses.

But Bardi's senses were too sharp. He was too difficult to control, too difficult to deceive. His consciousness was simply too strong, like a machine built for war.

Zatara continuously cast spells to distort Bardi's perception, layering illusions on top of them, creating bizarre and disorienting visions before his eyes.

Raven appeared before him, offering him chocolate.

Hundreds of thousands of people knelt at his feet, worshiping and surrendering to him.

A stunningly beautiful woman lay before him, unclothed.

He stood amidst the stars, plucking them like marbles.

One illusion after another, each more extreme than the last.

But in the end, Bardi simply stared at them, and they vanished.

Of course, Bardi didn't understand magic. But his sheer force of will made illusions ineffective. The moment he focused, he could break free.

Some mirages remained, but they couldn't harm him. His sharp combat instincts allowed him to distinguish between illusions and reality, avoiding real attacks while ignoring the false ones.

Finally, Zatara used his trump card.

He seized the moment when Bardi was caught in the illusion and manipulated his five senses, just long enough for his final move.

The sealing spell, which had been pre-arranged across the island, activated.

A dark vortex appeared.

And in an instant, Bardi was swallowed whole.

Sealed within space.

Just like that, it was over.

It was a strange loss to the magician.

Yet, even now, Bardi didn't feel the fight was truly over.

He could have continued. He could have observed more of his techniques.

After all, he still had a solar capsule hidden in his mouth, enough to prolong his observation of Zatara's magic for a while.

Until Bardi clearly perceived the passage of time, one minute and thirty seconds had passed.

Suddenly, his vision brightened.

The starry night sky came into view once more.

Zatara stood to the side, his clothes in tatters, his face pale, his pupils unfocused.

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Chapter 129

Morning. A new day had begun.

The city stirred, like a person gradually waking from slumber, slowly rising from a night's rest, stretching lazily, and shaking off the remnants of sleep as energy returned to their body.

This was Manhattan, atop the Four Seasons Hotel, inside the Presidential Suite.

Bardi was never one to be stingy with his own enjoyment. He indulged in what he had earned.

A cool morning breeze drifted through the curtains. The sheer golden drapes billowed gently, dancing in the air like joyous elves, fluttering in the morning light of a beautiful day.

Butterfly flowers adorned the windowsill, their delicate fragrance filling the room. The purple, white, and yellow petals glistened with morning dew, refracting the sunlight into dazzling brilliance.

The air was both warm and crisp, the breeze lightly brushing against the skin.

On the dining table, bathed in the golden glow of the sun, sat a meal that hardly resembled breakfast.

An extravagant seafood feast—Australian king crab, Australian lobster, Hokkaido red crab, giant abalone, Alaskan king crab, French Belon oysters, Alaskan snow crab. The world's finest seafood, prepared in an array of culinary styles—steamed, fried, baked with cheese, turned into rich soups, or served as sashimi.

This was a morning of seafood.

The room was filled with its intoxicating aroma, completely overpowering the delicate floral scent from outside the window.

Raven sat at the table, draped in her cloak. The hood had been pushed back, revealing soft black hair parted in the middle. Her pale skin shimmered under the sunlight, almost translucent, smooth like crystal. Her eyelashes were long, framing deep black eyes that held a quiet focus. She looked slightly dazed as she gazed forward, her dark purple lips pressed together. She had the air of someone who had spent too much time indoors, withdrawn and silent, quietly enjoying her meal.

Bardi, dressed in white, sat beside her. Underneath, he wore a tailored white suit, and over it, a custom-made white trench coat trimmed with gold. The slanting sunlight touched his face, absorbing into his skin and casting a radiant glow.

Bardi and Raven sat close, both calm and indifferent, eating quietly. They exuded an air of elegance, reserved yet strangely in sync.

Somehow, inexplicably, a peculiar sense of harmony existed between them.

The silent, withdrawn Raven and the composed, indifferent Bardi—two figures, one in black and one in white, sitting in the warm glow of the morning sun, like a scene from a painting.

Raven couldn't quite describe the feeling.

It was… harmonious. Comfortable.

The meal was good, but there was something more.

Something she had never felt before.

She had no particular opinion on eating seafood in the morning. She had never tasted these earthly delicacies before, so she was curious, yet remained composed. Quietly, she bit into the tender white crab meat, drawing it between her dark purple lips without making a sound.

As for how to eat shellfish, she simply followed Bardi's example, watching him, mimicking his actions, learning in silence.

Neither of them spoke.

But there was an undeniable sense of tacit understanding between them.

Across from them, however, Zatara was anything but calm.

Gone was his usual refined, aristocratic demeanor.

Though he was still dressed in an elegant tuxedo, he carried none of the poise that should have accompanied it.

Instead, he looked like a ruined noble, stripped of his wealth and status.

His face was haggard. He had not slept all night, his spirit fragile, his hair unkempt. Bloodshot eyes clouded with exhaustion and an unshakable unease. Beneath the fatigue, there was even a flicker of nameless agitation.

He exhaled a shaky breath.

"Just now," Zatara rasped, his voice hoarse, "my father sent me a message. They have glimpsed the fate of the future."

His wide, bloodshot eyes trembled, unable to fully comprehend the words leaving his own mouth.

"Soon… a catastrophe is coming. A disaster that will engulf both the magical world and the entire Earth. Perhaps—perhaps the magical world will cease to exist. Perhaps even the Earth itself will be destroyed."

A demon capable of shattering planets was about to descend upon Earth.

And there was only one week left.

One.

Week.

His chest tightened with panic.

But the sight before him, the most crucial individuals in this impending calamity, Bardi and the half-demon Raven were sitting there… eating.

Leisurely.

Without a care.

Enjoying seafood.

His fingers twitched.

He wanted to strangle them both.

The world was teetering on the brink of destruction!

A cosmic-level demon was arriving, a being capable of obliterating entire stars!

And these two… were just sitting there, eating!

Is that all you know how to do?!

Seeing Bardi and Raven feasting on seafood, Zatara couldn't suppress his irritation. His bloodshot eyes burned with fury, and his anger surged to the breaking point.

Just last night, he had been defeated by Raven in two seconds, ripped from the sky.

If Trigon descended upon Earth, it would mean the planet's destruction. That information had been passed on to him.

And Zatara could tell that Raven's spell was genuine.

Still, he had been stunned for a full minute and twenty-eight seconds, unable to believe it.

Only then did he realize he had made a massive blunder.

But at the same time, he doubted—deeply, instinctively.

Could such a powerful demon really be coming?

It had to be a joke!

And yet, this morning, he received a message from his father. While attempting to divine fate, his father had unexpectedly glimpsed a horrifying truth, the impending annihilation of the magical world, Earth, and even his own life.

An unfathomable force was obstructing their attempts to see the future.

More than a dozen veteran magicians had cast spells together, trying to peer into destiny, only to suffer violent backlash. They died instantly, leaving behind no useful information.

Now, within the British Magician's Association and throughout the magical world, chaos reigned.

Everyone was on edge, preparing for an impending catastrophe.

The future had become a terrifying, suffocating void, an unknown threat loomed, overwhelming and all-consuming, poised to destroy everything.

A bustling, thriving city—on the brink of annihilation.

And right now…

These. Two. People.

Were sitting here.

Eating.

A. Luxurious.

Seafood.

Feast.

In the morning!

Seafood wasn't even appropriate for breakfast!!

Zatara's bloodshot eyes twitched violently. His teeth clenched, his fists trembled, and with a loud smack, he slammed his palms onto the table.

Dishes rattled. Shellfish tumbled from the growing pile beside Raven.

His face contorted in frustration as he roared impatiently, "The world is on the verge of destruction, and you're still eating seafood?!"

Raven's dark purple lips paused slightly before she replied, stunned yet matter-of-fact, "In a week, we might not be able to eat anymore."

In a week, they could fail.

They could die at Trigon's hands.

So what was wrong with eating something different now?

On that point, she agreed with Bardi.

Because Bardi had already planned the next week's meals, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, all meticulously arranged.

The finest beef, the rarest seafood, the most exquisite desserts, the richest chocolates, the juiciest fruits.

For seven days, a grand feast.

Because neither of them knew whether they would live or die.

They had to treat every day as if it were their last and enjoy the rarest delicacies in the world while they still could.

Zatara was practically losing his mind.

His nerves felt like they were frying in hot oil. His frustration boiled over, but he forcibly used magic to suppress his emotions, forcing himself to calm down.

He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

His tone turned cold and severe.

"What we should be doing right now is figuring out how to stop the demon that's coming to destroy Earth.

"This isn't just about the magical world. It's about the entire human race. This is bigger than sitting around enjoying a 'final meal.'"

Bardi's expression shifted slightly, his usual indifference replaced by seriousness.

He picked up a napkin, dabbed his lips and the corner of his eyes, then spoke firmly.

"I already have a plan."

"But I need the magical world's knowledge, principles of magic, its mechanisms, its data. I need to study magic, understand it in its entirety. Not just spiritual magic—all of it."

"The more I comprehend, the greater my odds of dealing with Trigon."

As he spoke, there was an unmistakable hint of ambition beneath his words.

Because magic was too elusive, too mysterious.

It was intangible, unknowable.

If he could obtain magic and study it, then, if he survived his battle against Trigon magic would no longer be his greatest weakness.

And right now, this was the perfect moment to make such a request.

Zatara's impatience gave him an opening.

Originally, Bardi had planned to start with Raven.

But he was still in the process of gaining her trust.

And if she ever found out that he intended to kill an infant, if she realized that his ultimate goal was entirely self-serving, she would turn against him in an instant.

So, for now, getting magic from Raven wasn't an option.

But Zatara?

Zatara was desperate.

And Bardi never let an opportunity slip through his fingers.

Zatara's face wavered.

Bardi's demeanor was serious—entirely focused.

And this was about the fate of the entire planet.

It wasn't something to be taken lightly.

Zatara was already on edge.

The images Raven had shown him last night, the vision of Trigon's power were burned into his mind.

A being capable of destroying planets larger than Earth.

A demon that had wiped out civilizations more magically advanced than their own.

The entire magical world combined wouldn't stand a chance against Trigon.

This wasn't a battle for magicians.

This was a battle for gods.

A demon of this level could only be opposed by deities.

A magician, no matter how powerful, was still just a man.

Don't think this will play out like some Teen Titans storyline where a bunch of kids miraculously defeat Trigon.

That was fantasy.

This was reality.

And knowing that brutal truth made Zatara desperate.

Desperate enough to take risks.

So when Bardi made his request, Zatara didn't hesitate.

If anything, he respected Bardi and Raven's approach, preparing for the coming battle instead of wasting time on empty hope.

This was a man willing to fight for Earth.

To lay down his life for it.

To gain knowledge, to increase his odds against Trigon.

That was the right mindset.

Zatara didn't suspect that Bardi had his own agenda.

"I'll gather as much knowledge as I can within a day and pass it on to you," Zatara declared, his voice resolute.

"Even my family's secret techniques, meditation methods for enhancing the mind, I'll compile them and explain everything to you."

His eyes burned with determination.

For the sake of Earth, he would cast aside ancient traditions.

Bardi's gaze remained steady, unwavering.

This was the perfect moment.

Magic knowledge—so easily within reach.

Zatara then hesitated slightly.

"But… it's only a week. Can you really study anything in such a short time?"

Seven days.

Zatara had trained in magic for twenty-eight years from childhood to adulthood.

He had been born with talent, blessed with magical blood, and yet it had taken him decades to reach his level of mastery.

Bardi had no prior magical training.

Could he even comprehend it?

Let alone use it?

"Yes," Bardi replied without hesitation. His voice was steady, absolute.

"My intelligence and cognitive speed are beyond your imagination."

"I don't need to use magic. I just need to understand it."

"The more magical variations I grasp, the better I can manipulate my mental world, and the greater my resistance against Trigon."

"Right now, my understanding of magic is too shallow."

Zatara nodded in agreement.

In their battle, Bardi had relied purely on close combat.

Aside from his heat vision, he had no ranged abilities.

Fighting a magician head-on was reckless.

Even with his exceptional combat awareness, brute force alone wouldn't be enough.

"You're right. I'll start gathering the information now."

Zatara didn't hesitate.

With a determined nod, he rose from the table, his haggard face now carrying a flicker of resolve.

He turned and walked out of the suite, fully committed to assisting Bardi in facing Trigon.

Bardi watched him leave, his expression unreadable.

He felt no joy.

Because survival came first.

If he lived—he would have everything.

If he died—none of it mattered.

Raven, watching Bardi's profile in the sunlight, saw something else.

Determination.

A hero's heart.

"I'll teach you magic too," she said quietly.

Bardi let out a low hum of acknowledgment.