Chapter 1689: Bruce Wayne and the Secret Chamber (End)

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The semifinals had numerous participants, but with each round eliminating half, it quickly narrowed down to a few familiar faces among the students. Most of them were already top achievers in their year, having chosen their demon gods' powers early on. The longer they trained with these borrowed powers, the better they mastered them, making these individuals quite formidable.

However, given the small pool of remaining contestants, it was almost inevitable that familiar faces would face off against each other. Barry became the unlucky one in everyone's eyes when he drew Helen Stark as his opponent.

Most students interpreted the recent campus attack as an internal power struggle within Asgard's royal family. Those who grew up in Asia were particularly attuned to the dangers of royal infighting and were keen to steer clear of any involvement. As a result, when it was announced that Barry would face Helen, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

In Barry's mind, Doctor Strange grumbled in displeasure. "Why her? She looks weak. Don't you want to face a stronger opponent to showcase the results of your training?"

"I just want to get this over with and go home to sleep," Barry replied wearily. Fighting wasn’t his thing, and his tone and demeanor clearly reflected his reluctance.

Doctor Strange, however, was unconvinced. He couldn't fathom someone gaining such immense power yet remaining so passive. Soon, he would find himself in a vast world filled with countless dimensions, where he could harvest even greater power.

The first match in the semifinals ended quickly when one of the students performed poorly, much to the professors' disappointment. Even the demon gods observing from above seemed bored, feeling their time had been wasted.

When it was time for Barry and Helen to enter the arena, even fewer people paid attention. Barry wasn't known for being competitive; he usually practiced alone, hitting wooden dummies rather than sparring with others. As for Helen, she was seen as a trouble magnet. Pitting an unlucky student against a divine second-generation like Helen seemed like a foregone conclusion.

As they entered and exchanged formal bows, Helen initiated with her signature electric divine power. Barry, meanwhile, held his magic wand between his index and middle fingers, channeling the energy Doctor Strange had infused into his soul.

With a swift motion, Barry cast a barrier that blocked the incoming electric arc. Doctor Strange scoffed, "Asgardian? It’s hardly worth our time dealing with a bunch of doomed wretches. But you need to show her some real power—try a spatial slash!"

"No, I can't," Barry said firmly. "She’s just a young girl. We shouldn’t use offensive magic."

"But this is a duel!"

"So what? I told you, I don’t like fighting. I’ll just defend against her moves. If I can’t, I’ll take the hit. I’m only here to keep an eye on Bruce and Harley."

Doctor Strange took a deep breath, restraining his anger. In his mind, he repeated to himself a thousand times, "He's still useful. This idiot has value." Only then did he fall silent.

When people said Barry was training by hitting wooden dummies, it wasn't quite accurate—it was more like letting the dummies hit him. He focused intensely on practicing defensive and evasive techniques. As both Charles Xavier and Doctor Strange had noticed, Barry had a peculiar talent.

Though the Marvel Universe didn’t have the Speed Force, Barry could, under intense focus, perceive time as if it were slowing down. It was akin to bullet time or having an exceptional reaction speed that made him seem faster to others.

For now, this change was subtle, nowhere near the infinite effects of the Speed Force. But if Barry were to return to the DC Universe and continue his training, it was likely he could access the Speed Force much earlier.

Or rather, it seemed inevitable. After all, a younger Barry from the future had once returned, already proficient with the Speed Force despite still looking like a college student. This implied that he might have become the Flash at a very young age.

Taking a deep breath, Barry focused his mind, eyes locked on Helen’s movements. As she launched her next attack, he sidestepped with lightning speed, dodging her electric arc. In a sudden burst, he thrust his wand upwards, releasing a red energy slash that flew toward Helen.

Loki, watching from the stands, narrowed his eyes. It wasn't that he was concerned for Helen; rather, something about the power Barry used felt oddly familiar.

“Strange?… No, that’s not right,” Loki mused. Strange was the Sorcerer Supreme, but he was still human. His nature prevented him from bestowing power on others like demon gods could.

If sorcerers could simply transmit their power to apprentices, there wouldn’t be a need for magic wands. Human lifespans and existence simply couldn’t sustain such energy transfer, necessitating the use of artifacts like wands. Suddenly, Loki recalled a peculiar story shared among the Lokis across dimensions—about the mysterious death of a Sorcerer Supreme.

Helen was taken aback when Barry dodged her attack. With a sigh, she descended to the ground. Doctor Strange smugly remarked in Barry’s mind, "See? I told you this girl was out of tricks. Asgardians grow stronger with age, but she’s just a kid. How many moves could she possibly know?"

The next instant, however, a shadow darted toward Barry with a speed even he couldn’t evade.

A split second later, a massive fist filled his and Doctor Strange’s shared field of vision.

“Bam!”

A powerful uppercut sent Barry flying. Helen followed up with a spinning aerial kick, another uppercut, and finished with a downward elbow strike. When the dust settled, Barry was sprawled outside the arena boundary.

Helen shook her hand and said, "Sometimes, simple methods work best."

Watching from the stands, Loki shook his head and sat back down. No matter how strange the demon god Barry had contracted seemed, getting past Helen’s divine power was one thing; enduring her fists was quite another. From his observations, Loki believed the latter challenge was ten times more difficult.

However, Helen didn’t leave immediately after defeating Barry. She crouched beside him, her gaze piercing deep into his eyes. From her connection with Harley’s dark powers, she sensed something sinister in Barry’s soul—a Dark Book supplying him with energy.

“Got you,” she whispered. Without making any sudden moves, she stood up and squeezed through the crowd, eventually whispering something into Loki’s ear.

Loki’s expression grew serious. “Are you certain? You detected the same madness from those attackers?”

“Thanks to the heightened senses I recently borrowed from a certain crazy girl,” Helen said, glancing back at Barry. “To be sure, we should have the real deal verify it. No one in this dimension understands madness better than Harley.”

When Harley and Barry faced off in the finals, she sniffed the air like a hunting dog, baring her sharp canine teeth.

“It’s you!” Harley growled, staring intently into Barry’s eyes. But it wasn’t really Barry she was addressing. Through his eyes, she saw Doctor Strange lurking in his mind.

“I can smell that stench!” Harley shouted, her voice rising. “You’re the one who controlled the students to attack others in the halls, using madness to cover up their crimes… You filthy heretic!”

"She saw me, but she can do nothing about it." Doctor Strange's voice resonated in Barry's mind, accompanied by a low chuckle. He said, "I just threw out a few random lures, hoping to draw out the Sorcerer Supreme of this realm. But I didn't expect that even with this ridiculous school descending into chaos, he still wouldn't show up. Quite the patience he's got."

Strange, who was watching the screen, suddenly shot to his feet with a start. He couldn't hear Doctor Strange's words but could clearly sense Harley’s attitude. Together, their eyes were locked on the screen as they exclaimed, "The mastermind isn't Nyarlathotep, but rather the demon god Barry is currently contracted with?! Who would dare be so bold?"

The murderous intent in that last sentence burst forth with such intensity that the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. At this moment, Constantine finally realized that the title of Sorcerer Supreme was far from being an empty boast. Even though Strange was currently unable to use magic, the aura he exuded made it clear to everyone that he had once trampled over countless powerful beings to reign supreme over the realm.

"Who is it?" Strange's voice echoed simultaneously throughout the room and in Schiller’s mind.

Schiller, too, was speculating about the culprit. There weren’t many who fit the criteria—it was more likely an outsider. Several names circled in his mind, and it wouldn't take more than a few moments before one would clearly emerge.

“That book…”

Outside, a vague thought suddenly surfaced in Little Bruce’s mind. Amid the recent flood of dark knowledge that had filled his consciousness, this particular insight stood out. He understood that it was a revelation given to him by Nyarlathotep.

“You came here… for a book?”

“Our knowledge… must not be lost… destroy it…”

Meanwhile, Harley charged at Barry, her fury and madness unleashed to the fullest. Barry was powerless to resist or evade.

In that moment of hesitation, Barry’s pupils turned crimson, and a cold, mocking expression took over his face, his disdain evident.

The professors standing on the podium all rose in unison. The Holy Sword Archmage shouted, “Forcefully controlling a body is not permitted! Monster! Stand down!”

The demonic gods' projections in midair erupted into intense discussion, debating which fool had violated the taboo. Many of them salivated because they knew that "Member Gifts" would likely be forthcoming soon.

Barry raised his hand, and a powerful energy began to coalesce. The shadowy outline of a book gradually appeared. Watching from behind the screen, Strange and Schiller simultaneously shouted, “The Dark Book!”

In his mind, Schiller added another name—Mad Doctor Strange, also known by the infamous title "Black Strange."

As the book materialized, a cold smile crept onto Little Bruce’s face. He said, “You want to control me? Pay the price first—the book is mine!”

A dagger engraved with runes slashed across Little Bruce’s wrist, causing blood to spurt forth. An incomprehensible chant began to spill from his lips, making all the students present dizzy and nauseous.

Far away in New York, Wanda suddenly felt a chill creep up her spine. She heard a terrifying chant she had once heard in another realm. The crimson force within her bloomed like a poppy flower.

In the Kamar-Taj’s courtyard, Harley felt a surge of chaotic power tremble. The energy was being siphoned away from her, something she absolutely couldn’t allow.

“Give it back to me!”

“…Who are you?”

The next instant, an eye glowing with a crimson hue appeared within Harley’s icy blue irises. Wanda’s voice echoed in her mind, “What’s going on? I can feel the Stars descending!”

The ancient chanting grew louder. Through Wanda’s intuition, Harley deciphered what Little Bruce was chanting:

“Master of Time and Space, Convergence of all that is, Artist of Magic and Thought, Gatekeeper of the Ultimate Door, the Key to all Doors—past, present, and future are within you.

By the Doors you know, lead us across time and through all worlds; guide us to where we belong.

The knowledge I possess is my power; the truths I comprehend grant me strength. With my wisdom, I shall knock upon the door—let it open for me.”

In an instant, stars descended over Kamar-Taj.

Maelstroms appeared like bubbles in the sky, popping one after another. These were the Doors across countless spacetime continuums. An ancient presence deep among the stars glanced at the astonishing wisdom originating from another realm.

Finally, it acknowledged it—a door opened.

From that door came an overwhelming suction force, drawing in those whom Little Bruce’s ritual had targeted, lifting them into the air.

As they were about to be pulled into the door, a heavy sigh echoed. A supreme, unmatched being from another world drove them all back.

When the One Above All’s gaze fell upon the gray Maelstrom in Harley’s grasp, a profound sense of disapproval was conveyed. But the gray mist, perceiving his intention, instantly condensed into a few large characters:

“Don’t throw them into my realm! Send them elsewhere!”

An arrow formed from the gray mist pointed fiercely at another space bubble in the distance.

This particular bubble differed from the others in one significant way: surrounding it were bright, flashing words—

“No Schillers allowed. All Schillers, keep out.”

OAA: “So annoying, so annoying, stop! Annoying!”

[Read at www.patreon.com/shanefreak, and thanks for the invaluable support!]

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Next Chapter =>Chapter 1690: Bruce Wayne and the Prisoner of the Batcave (Part 1)