DC: Chapter 124/125

Chapter 124
The mist giant loomed above them, vast and imposing, like a god stretching across half the sky. Its massive form hovered in the air, its upper body manifesting fully as it gazed down at Bardi and Raven with cold, piercing eyes.

To him, they were demons, creatures of darkness disturbing the world's balance.

As a magician, it was his duty to stop such beings from invading reality. To silently maintain order, to protect humanity from the threats lurking beyond.

This was the role of a magician.

And Zatara, for all his arrogance and pride, was no exception.

Though many magicians found his personality intolerable, his egotism, his unyielding authority, he was still one of them. And like them, he stood as a guardian, ensuring demons were cast out of this world.

This was his duty. An unshakable responsibility.

A cold wind swept across the open plains, bending the tall grass in waves beneath the starlit sky.

Bardi's white trench coat and Raven's black cloak billowed in the wind, their figures standing silent and solitary, unyielding against the chill.

A heavy, oppressive malice spread across the island.

A murderous intent rose in the air, surrounding Bardi like an unseen storm. The very atmosphere pulsed with hostility, an ever-present reaction to the magical energy saturating the land.

It was everywhere, in the air, in the earth beneath their feet.

Bardi took a step forward.

His posture remained upright, his presence unwavering as he locked eyes with Zatara's mist giant. The flaring hem of his trench coat only added to the sharp, wind-swept silhouette he cast.

Every step forward was met with resistance.

It felt as though he were walking through water, his every movement met with an invisible force, thick and suffocating. The air itself pressed against him, obstructing his progress.

It was magic.

Yet, even as the unseen weight bore down on him, he kept moving.

His footsteps were steady.

His back remained straight, his figure fearless against the wind.

On the battlefield, he was a mere speck compared to the towering mist giant, a lone figure standing against an overwhelming force.

"I'll handle this," Raven said, hastily shoving the last of her chocolate into her mouth.

Her cheeks puffed slightly as she spoke, her words muffled by the candy. Even with most of her power sealed, she was confident, handling Zatara was hardly a challenge for her.

She knew that Bardi's resistance to magic was weak. Fighting a magician would be an unnecessary risk.

"Eat your chocolate," Bardi said coldly.

His voice, carried by the wind, was calm and absolute.

The wind tousled his hair as he narrowed his eyes at the mist giant.

His pulse pounded like a war drum.

The blood in his veins boiled with defiance, his body burning with an almost unbearable heat.

He reached up and unfastened his white trench coat, retrieving two solar energy capsules from within. He tossed them into his mouth, letting them dissolve against his tongue.

A single capsule was enough to sustain his energy for an entire day.

Hera had collected and compressed solar energy into these capsules, each one containing enough raw power to rival a small nuclear explosion.

Then, without another word, he shrugged off his coat and strode forward.

Now clad in only a white shirt, white trousers, and white leather shoes, his figure stood tall and imposing against the night.

Behind him, the discarded trench coat caught the wind, drifting backward and landed squarely over Raven's face.

The fabric, still warm from Bardi's body heat, draped over her, covering half her figure.

Raven slowly pulled the coat away, resting it on her arm. Her dark purple lips parted slightly as she watched Bardi's back.

A man wading through the unknown, steadfast in his path, ready to crush whatever stood in his way.

Raven suddenly understood.

Bardi wasn't facing this battle out of recklessness or arrogance.

He wasn't fearless.

He simply wanted to know.

He wanted to test himself, to measure his strength against magic, to see how much he could withstand.

Even if magic dealt twice the damage to him.

Even if it meant facing an enemy designed to counter him completely.

She watched as his figure grew smaller in the distance.

Then—

"Haah!"

In an instant, Bardi's walk turned into a sprint.

Beneath the starry sky, he became a streak of white, a blur of motion rushing toward the mist giant.

Adrenaline surged through his veins, igniting every nerve in his body.

His superhuman senses sharpened, his hearing, his vision, his reflexes, all pushed into overdrive.

His heartbeat pounded at a furious rhythm, his mind accelerating, his thoughts calculating at impossible speeds.

Every cell in his body burned with unrestrained energy.

His hair stood on end, every pore tingling as raw power coursed through him. His veins bulged against his pale, jade-like skin, writhing like serpents beneath the surface.

Boom!

A sonic boom erupted in his wake.

His clothes shredded under the force, fabric burning away as he tore through the air like a comet.

A blinding white shockwave trailed behind him, a streak of destruction cutting through the night.

He was a force of nature.

A sculpted form of pure muscle and speed, bathed in the cold silver glow of the moon.

Raven's eyes widened in shock.

For a moment, she was stunned.

She hadn't expected this.

Hadn't expected him to be so... overwhelming.

Then, her gaze dropped, her fingers absentmindedly reaching for another piece of chocolate.

Her thoughts were in disarray.

And without realizing it—

She bit into the foil.

She blinked, momentarily confused, before quickly peeling the wrapper away and stuffing the chocolate into her mouth.

Her gaze flickered toward Bardi's coat, still draped over her arm.

The lingering warmth from his body seemed to seep into her skin, leaving her oddly restless.

Why does he have to rip his clothes every time he fights?

She lowered her head, focusing on the chocolate in her hands.

She didn't dare look at him anymore.

At that moment—

The battle had begun.

Bardi, now moving at supersonic speed, streaked across the grasslands like a white comet, the force of his movement splitting the air in two.

The very atmosphere trembled beneath the pressure, the grass bending violently in his wake. A shockwave of air carved through the plains, cutting a path straight toward the mist giant.

Zatara, hovering above them, had not expected this level of intensity.

He watched as Bardi closed the distance.

Too fast.

Far too fast.

If he made direct contact, even a momentary delay in reinforcing the magical barrier would be disastrous.

Zatara knew Bardi was strong.

But he hadn't expected this.

A fighter who could break the sound barrier with his bare feet.

A human comet, rocketing toward him like an unstoppable force.

Zatara's face, formed from swirling mist, twisted into a grim expression. His pupils contracted, his gaze sharp with unwavering determination.

From above, his voice boomed like rolling thunder—mighty, righteous, and absolute.

"Servant of the Devil!"

A massive hand, forged from the dense fog, extended forward.

More than 20 meters long, it loomed overhead like an unstoppable force. The fine details of the palm, intricate lines and creases were eerily lifelike. Dark energy flickered along its surface, radiating an ominous glow.

As it descended, it tore through the air, sending rippling shockwaves outward. A violent gust of wind erupted from the sheer force, bending the surrounding grass as it howled across the plains.

The colossal hand surged downward, straight toward Bardi, who was charging forward at full speed.

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Chapter 125

The fog covered the sky like a giant hand, blotting out the sun. As it pressed downward, it carried an overwhelming force that made it hard to breathe, freezing the air in its wake.

Bardi moved like a cheetah, his speed surging again. As he neared the descending hand, his body leaped, flipping midair, before landing firmly on the ground. His toes dug into the grass, skidding for several meters.

His feet carved two deep trenches into the earth.

Boom!

The ground trembled violently as the massive palm slammed down, imprinting a two-meter-deep handprint into the earth.

The sheer force was undeniable.

From the edges of the palm, a razor-sharp shockwave erupted, slicing through the air like a blade. The wind howled, dirt exploded, and specks of soil clung to Bardi's skin, mixing with the chill of the atmosphere. The airflow was like a cold knife against his face.

Bardi focused his strength and launched a testing strike, his fist clenched as he swung at the misty hand above.

Bang!

His punch broke the sound barrier, smashing into the side of the fog-like hand.

Yet, his pupils contracted in surprise.

His fist passed through the giant hand without resistance like punching air.

Before, the misty hand had physical substance, capable of pressing into the ground. Now, it had become an illusion, completely intangible.

Bardi narrowed his eyes but didn't dwell on it. This was likely a form of magic, something he wasn't familiar with.

Boom!

With another explosive burst, he pierced through the sky, leaving behind a white sonic boom cloud. The air stretched like plastic wrap before being forcefully torn apart by his sheer speed.

He charged straight toward the towering mist giant in the sky.

Breaking the sound barrier, his rapid movement split the airflow like a blade, violent gusts swirling in his wake.

From above, the mist giant, Zatara, let out a cold snort. His voice echoed across the starry night as he manipulated the foggy hand, lifting it along with clumps of earth.

The mist giant's hands then clasped together in midair.

In an instant, they ceased being hands, dispersing into swirling mist and dark clouds.

Then, they transformed.

Countless wind blades, gleaming with an eerie black light, materialized across the sky.

A dense storm of razor-sharp wind blades surrounded the mist giant.

"Die!"

The mist giant's voice resonated through the heavens.

A relentless barrage of wind blades descended upon Bardi.

The sheer density made them inescapable, the entire sky was filled with their ominous, gleaming edges.

Everywhere he looked, there was nothing but flashing blades of cold death.

Bardi's eyes flickered with a sharp glint. He swiftly raised his arms, crossing them in front of his face and torso. His muscles tensed, swelling as he braced for impact, minimizing his exposed surface area to endure the onslaught.

The wind blades cut like real swords against a human body. One slashed across Bardi's abdomen, slicing through his skin, exposing the white fibrous fat layer beneath, revealing the bright red muscle underneath.

Blood trickled out.

His body, honed by countless battles, reacted instinctively to the danger.

These were no ordinary wind blades, they were formed by magic. They could wound him, tear through his skin, and rip into his body.

Yet, even with their mystical properties, they weren't sharp enough to completely cleave him apart. It wasn't just their cutting edge, it was the strange magical energy embedded within them.

Bardi's body had weak resistance to magic. That was why these blades could wound him.

The wind blades grazed his calves, thighs, arms, and abdomen, but he constantly adjusted his position, ensuring he never took a direct hit.

Because the moment the blades formed in the sky, Bardi had already analyzed their spacing, calculated their trajectories, and synchronized his movements.

Now, as they rained down, he moved with absolute precision, his piercing gaze locked onto the incoming blades, not blinking for a second.

The continuous barrage of wind blades resembled the relentless assault of aerial artillery, converging into a raging torrent. This river of razor-sharp blades was terrifying, capable of slicing through any structure hundreds of meters away.

The ground was in chaos, soil erupting as the earth became riddled with deep craters, as though it had been tilled anew.

Dust billowed and spread across the battlefield.

Raven's eyes flickered with unease.

With so many wind blades, and Bardi's poor resistance to magic, repeated strikes to the same area could be enough to tear him apart.

This attack carried the clear intent to dismember him completely.

At first, Bardi's crossed arms shielded his face, his cold eyes flashing as he braced against the onslaught. But soon, the sheer density of wind blades engulfed him, and the rising dust obscured his figure.

Puff! Puff! Puff!

The sharp whistling of wind blades slicing through the air filled the battlefield.

The relentless barrage blanketed the entire region, sending thick clouds of dust skyward, shrouding Bardi entirely from view.

Even after he disappeared into the dust storm, the wind blades did not cease, they continued to rain down, penetrating deep into the obscured battlefield.

Only when the final blade struck did the attack finally stop.

For a moment, silence fell over the world.

The clear night sky remained still, while dust veiled the devastated ground.

A suffocating stillness filled the air.

Slowly, the swirling dust began to settle, dispersing into the wind.

Then, from the fading haze, a towering figure emerged, like a demon walking out of the abyss, stepping forth from the depths of hell itself.

Through the thinning dust, his form became visible.

Bardi's entire body was covered in lacerations. His torn skin revealed glimpses of muscle beneath, some wounds cutting deep enough to expose bone, with severed veins leaking blood across his form. Hundreds of gashes marred his body, leaving him drenched in crimson, as if he had just endured a thousand cuts in the depths of hell.

His eyes were ice-cold, and his imposing figure radiated a terrifying aura—primal, savage, like a prehistoric beast awakening. The sheer wildness exuding from him sent a shiver through the battlefield, silencing the world.

Bardi slowly withdrew his right hand, droplets of blood slipping from his fingertips and scattering into the wind.

In mere seconds, the torn flesh across his body mended itself. Beneath the fading injuries, his powerful muscles pulsed with life, healing at an unnatural rate. The only remnants of his wounds were the bloodstains covering his body, proof of the punishment he had just endured.

BOOM!

A deafening shockwave tore through the battlefield.

Bardi's presence transformed, his aura became a bloodthirsty storm, his crimson eyes burning with an intense, brutal fury. Around his eyes, thick veins pulsed, scorching beneath his skin.

With explosive speed, he ripped through the air, a heatwave surging in his wake. His blood-red gaze locked onto its target—cold, searing, and merciless.

Above, the mist giant's pupils constricted in horror.

Even with Bardi's lack of magic resistance, his recovery speed was beyond comprehension.

Zatara's heart pounded. He had seen it with his own eyes, Bardi's wounds had cut all the way to the bone, yet in an instant, they were gone.

What kind of body is this? This level of self-healing… it's monstrous.

A deep sense of dread crept over him.

Without hesitation, the mist giant began to shrink, rapidly retracting from its massive, sky-spanning form down toward the earth.

Bardi had pinpointed his true body's location.

In the depths of the forest, the mist withdrew, condensing into a single form.

Zatara sat in the center of an intricately carved magic circle, his body clad in an elegant stage tuxedo.

He had no time to summon a stronger attack spell.

Instead, he urgently conjured a magical shield to protect himself.

Bardi had arrived.

Deep in the forest, a pair of crimson eyes emerged from the darkness, like the gaze of a tyrannical monarch from the depths of hell.