Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman [155]

“Let’s talk outside,” Hermione said, her expression grim.

Though she had remained calm throughout the banquet, it was merely a façade—a shield to protect herself.

Inside, Hermione was on the verge of breaking. The concept of murder filled her with an overwhelming sense of evil and darkness.

Bruce didn’t push her. He nodded. “Alright, let’s go outside first.”

As they left the Great Hall, Hermione stumbled, her steps unsteady. Bruce had to support her to keep her from falling.

“Ares isn’t joking,” Hermione whispered, her face pale. “The others might not take this seriously yet, but I know he’s not playing games.”

The suddenness of the banquet had caught everyone off guard. Though the idea of murder was introduced, the other participants seemed unable to grasp the gravity of it.

For most young wizards, murder was an abstract, terrifying concept—something they’d never truly experienced.

Only Sirius and Snape appeared to treat the situation with the seriousness it deserved, having both survived real wars.

Even Pettigrew, though he had lived through horrors, was too insignificant to contribute.

Hermione, however, though still a child, was more mature and perceptive than her peers. She had sensed a faint yet unmistakable air of killing intent at the banquet.

The moment Sirius revealed himself as the Eagle’s guardian, Hermione thought she heard a soft, mocking laugh.

A laugh from one of the wolves.

“What exactly happened?” Bruce’s voice was sharp, focused. “Hermione, I need you to explain everything from the beginning.”

“Give me a moment.”

Hermione sat down on the steps, burying her face in her hands as she forced herself to calm down.

After a long pause, she finally raised her head. The panic and helplessness were gone, replaced by a semblance of composure.

“The War God’s Banquet was organized by Professor Lupin,” she began. “But he wasn’t really Lupin. He called himself Ares…”

Hermione recounted the events of the banquet in detail, filling in as much as she could remember.

When there were gaps in her account, or things she couldn’t explain, Kathoom stepped in to provide additional context.

As Bruce listened, the true nature of the War God’s Banquet became clear.

“Someone’s going to die,” Hermione said, staring at her trembling hands. No matter how much she tried to steady them, they wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after—but within this month, it’s inevitable.”

“Someone I know is going to kill someone else I know!”

Hermione couldn’t bring herself to suspect anyone. Everyone at the banquet—except Sirius and Pettigrew—was someone she had known for years.

The idea of them turning on each other, killing each other… it was impossible for her to imagine.

“It’s alright, Hermione.”

Bruce sat down beside her, offering his shoulder for her to lean on.

“I don’t know exactly what to say, but I’m certain the others don’t want to see that happen either.”

“Really? But I’m so scared…”

“There’s nothing to fear.”

Bruce clenched the object in his hand tightly.

As if reassuring himself, he repeated under his breath: “Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear.”

—

After comforting Hermione and escorting her back to Gryffindor Tower, Bruce returned to his own bed.

“Do you think anyone will die?” Bruce asked, addressing Kathoom. “Will everything unfold like one of your tales from the Dark Multiverse, spiraling hopelessly into despair?”

“I can’t guarantee that,” Kathoom replied. “But you know as well as I do—we always have a chance to turn things around.”

“Yeah… yeah.”

Bruce nodded, acknowledging the truth in Kathoom’s words. Turning the tide in desperate situations was what Batman did best.

But still, he couldn’t shake his frustration.

“Why does it always have to come to that? Why wait for desperation before taking action? Why not stop the crisis at its source?”

“Bruce,” Kathoom said, perching near his pillow. “You’re missing something important.”

“You’ve been so focused on Ares’s motives, but let me ask you this—”

“Is Ares really the most important factor here?”

“What?” Bruce frowned, confused. “How is he not?”

“From the start of the banquet, I’ve said little because of this very point,” Kathoom explained. “Ares isn’t the key player here. He’s merely a wildcard—a byproduct of something larger.”

“Bruce, let me remind you: Ares isn’t one of Barbatos’s hunters.”

That was true.

If they were to classify Lupin’s Ares as one of Barbatos’s hunters, they’d also have to categorize Sirius’s Gordon or Cedric’s Batman as hunters.

And that didn’t make sense.

This led to an unsettling conclusion: someone else—hidden in the shadows—was orchestrating the chaos behind the scenes.

A predator stalking its prey.

Kathoom continued, “We need to know who the real hunter is and what they’re capable of before we act. Otherwise, we’re just playing into someone else’s hands.”

Bruce listened intently.

The earlier enchantment at the Great Hall was a glaring clue. Every time he stepped forward, he was instantly transported to the far end of the corridor.

It resembled Apparition or the mechanics of a Portkey.

Yet Kathoom hadn’t sensed any magical fluctuations.

This wasn’t magic.

It couldn’t have been Ares, whose power was limited to Lupin’s magical abilities. Someone else was behind it.

Someone powerful.

But if they were so strong, why hadn’t they simply captured Bruce outright?

“Then what if someone does die?” Bruce pressed. “The War God’s Banquet makes it clear: three wolves will kill the other six, then move on to the rest of the school. Are we supposed to just sit by and let that happen?”

Kathoom sighed. “If you’re that worried, we can confront Ares now. But like I’ve said, he isn’t the real threat.”

“Dealing with Ares is simple—it’s barely more difficult than subduing Lupin himself.”

“But we must first identify the hunter and their capabilities.”

“And even if tragedies occur, Bruce, I promise you this—”

“Even if we reach the brink of despair, we can still turn the tide completely.”

“Ares wants to create ultimate despair, but you, Bruce, are the ultimate hope.”

“Stop overthinking and focus on what you need to do: uncover the hunter’s true identity.”

“I’ve got your back.”

Bruce and Kathoom had already debated Ares’s motives while escorting Hermione.

They agreed on one thing: Ares’s power was weak. Without divine energy, he relied solely on Lupin’s magic and his talent for manipulation.

But his goal?

Kathoom was blunt. “Ares is just a fanatic—a zealot obsessed with humanity’s darkest impulses.”

He believed humanity, as Zeus’s creation, was inherently evil.

To Ares, humanity’s ultimate destiny was self-destruction.

“What’s more horrifying,” Kathoom said, “than locking a group of children in a room and forcing them to kill each other?”

“The War God’s Banquet is his breeding ground,” Bruce interjected. “But he’s not trying to nurture warriors—he’s creating humanity’s destroyer. A true demon king.”

“Exactly,” Kathoom agreed.

The banquet wasn’t about finding a murderer—Azkaban had plenty of those.

Ares was searching for someone who could manipulate, deceive, and strategize—a master of cruelty.

Bruce sighed. “When will I be able to end this game?”

“At least get into the Hall first,” Kathoom quipped. “You can’t flip the table if you can’t even sit at it.”

“I understand.”

Bruce nodded, clarity dawning on him.

“Kathoom, I think I know the last-resort strategy you mentioned.”

Closing his eyes, Bruce continued, “Even if someone dies, it won’t be irreversible.”

“There may be pain along the way, but the ending can still be a good one.”

“That’s exactly what we’re aiming for,” Kathoom affirmed.

Pain, tragedy, and fear might grip them temporarily, but in the end, Bruce and Kathoom would ensure victory.

Perhaps a happy ending was just a dream—a foolish hope humanity clung to.

But someone had to strive for it.

Bruce would always be hope in the face of despair.

“Kathoom,” Bruce murmured as sleep crept in.

“What is it?”

“If Ares is such a master manipulator, could he have brainwashed Barbatos’s hunter?”

Kathoom considered this. “It’s possible, but I still think there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

—

This is a fan translation of 蝙蝠侠的猫头鹰教父 by 巴巴罗萨光年. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!