Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman [173]

“Bruce?”

Diana immediately noticed something was wrong.

The tension in Bruce’s posture was palpable, as if he were facing the most formidable enemy he’d ever encountered.

“You must be Diana,” Ares said smoothly, his demeanor fitting that of a quintessential English gentleman. He offered her a polite bow.

“Allow me to introduce myself—I am Ares,” he continued. “I’m your brother. We’re family…”

Before he could finish,

“Ah—!”

Diana didn’t wait for another word. She charged at him, unsheathing the Godkiller sword she had carried on her back. Both hands gripped the weapon tightly as she slashed at him.

Ares smiled faintly and raised two fingers.

With precision and ease, he caught the Godkiller sword between them.

Diana froze mid-action, straining every muscle to free the blade, but no matter how much force she used, it wouldn’t budge from Ares’ grasp.

“Don’t waste your strength,” Ares said calmly. “Diana, I bear no hostility toward you—at least, not today. I’ve come here to talk.”

Ignoring his words, Diana shifted tactics and delivered a brutal kick aimed at his groin.

“You—”

Ares inhaled sharply, momentarily stunned by her audacity.

You’re a demigod! How could you resort to such tactics?

Just as her foot was about to connect, Ares vanished, reappearing behind the bar in the blink of an eye.

“Who taught you these techniques?” Ares said, shaking his head. “They’re entirely unworthy of an Olympian god.”

“I learned them to kill.”

Diana retrieved the Godkiller sword, her grip steady. “Throats and groins—it’s all about ending lives as efficiently as possible.”

Without hesitation, she charged again, this time aiming a powerful thrust straight at Ares’ chest.

Ares raised his palm to block.

To Diana’s shock, the Godkiller sword disintegrated into ash the moment it touched his hand.

By the time her strike reached its mark, only the sword’s hilt remained.

“Enough,” Ares said. “You’ve made your point. Now, can we talk?”

It was clear he hadn’t come here to fight but to converse.

Diana said nothing.

Her worldview, shaped by centuries of belief, was crumbling.

Since childhood, her mother had told her that the Godkiller sword could slay gods. For five thousand years, she’d trusted that truth implicitly.

And now, with one touch, Ares had reduced her weapon to dust.

“Mother… you lied to me…”

Diana murmured, staring at the ashes in her hand.

“She’ll need some time to process this,” Ares said with a snap of his fingers. Two cocktails and a glass of orange juice appeared on the bar.

He turned to Bruce.

“And what about you, Bruce? Are you ready to come over now?”

Bruce’s mind was racing. He was already communicating with Kathoom.

“Is everything set?”

“All set,” Kathoom replied. He’d prepared for the worst, ensuring Halley’s Speed Force reserves were ready. If things turned hostile, they could escape even if they couldn’t win.

“Let’s go, then,” Ares said, raising his glass. “Oh, and Kathoom, you miserable owl, it’s been hundreds of thousands of years since we last met, hasn’t it?”

Bruce froze, as if struck by lightning.

“You know Ares? You’re old acquaintances?”

He stared at Kathoom, incredulous. “You never told me this—not even when we faced the Paradox Batman!”

“Some things are better left unsaid…” Kathoom muttered, sounding sheepish. “I’m the Lord of Demons. A proper demon keeps their past to themselves.”

“Besides, with hundreds of thousands of years of history, I couldn’t tell you everything even if I talked until the day you died.”

Bruce couldn’t argue with that logic.

But the fact that Kathoom had never mentioned his connection to Ares irked him. After all, they’d suffered greatly at Ares’ hands in the past.

“Come now, Bruce.” Ares beckoned again, his patience thinning. “I assure you, I mean no harm today. I simply want to see an old friend.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes but approached cautiously.

He plopped onto a barstool and reached for one of the cocktails, intending to down it in one gulp.

Ares shook his head and waved a hand, making the glass disappear.

“That one’s not for you,” Ares said, sliding the orange juice toward him. “This is yours.”

Bruce didn’t care what he drank. He took the glass and asked directly, “You know Kathoom?”

“I do.”

Ares sipped his cocktail leisurely. “Hundreds of thousands of years ago, he suddenly appeared on Earth, tagging along with a human named Batman.”

Batman?

Bruce stiffened as memories clicked into place. Kathoom had mentioned that the Batman of destiny had been transported hundreds of thousands of years into the past.

It was during that time that Batman had caught the attention of Barbatos, setting the stage for the events of the Dark Nights: Metal saga.

“You’ve worked with another Batman?” Bruce asked Kathoom mentally. “You’ve never mentioned this.”

“It’s ancient history!” Kathoom protested. “Why dwell on it?”

Bruce wasn’t buying it.

Turning back to Ares, he asked, “You said Kathoom suddenly appeared? How?”

“Out of nowhere,” Ares replied, finishing his drink. With a flick of his fingers, the glass refilled itself.

“He followed Batman everywhere, rambling about contracts and partnerships.”

“But that Batman didn’t trust him at all. In fact, during a battle, Batman betrayed him, tossing him aside like dead weight.”

“After that… let me think… Ah! He ended up in Barbatos’ hands.”

“I’m not sure what Barbatos did to him, but the next time I saw him, he was a statue.”

A statue?

Bruce recalled the ancient texts he’d studied while seeking the demon.

When he first encountered Kathoom, he’d been sealed in stone. Only after Bruce smeared blood on the statue did Kathoom emerge.

“Is that true?” Bruce asked Kathoom mentally.

“No!” Kathoom retorted. “Batman didn’t betray me—I betrayed him. I’m the Lord of Demons! A mere human couldn’t outwit me!”

Bruce sighed. That likely meant it was true.

No wonder Barbatos had been able to send interdimensional pursuers—it must’ve been a power he’d gleaned from Kathoom.

“So you’ve been through some things,” Bruce remarked. “Why didn’t you share your sob story so we could all have a laugh?”

“Say that again, and I’ll rip your mouth off!” Kathoom growled.

Inwardly, though, he sighed. Ares hadn’t lied—it really was an embarrassing chapter of his life.

Back then, Kathoom had just arrived, stripped of his powers, and reduced to an ordinary owl.

But because he was bound to Batman, he clung to the hope of a brighter future.

Unfortunately, the Batman he encountered was the one fresh off defeating Darkseid—a fully realized, ultra-paranoid Batman who trusted no one.

He viewed Kathoom as a potential threat and treated him with extreme suspicion.

In the end, Kathoom’s journey with Batman was anything but pleasant.

As for being captured by Barbatos, that part wasn’t true.

Kathoom had used an ancient technique to seal himself in stone, knowing that as long as he was bound to Batman, their paths would cross again.

And just as he’d predicted, when he next awoke, he was staring into the wide eyes of ten-year-old Bruce Wayne.

“In a way, that Batman was still you,” Kathoom told Bruce. “Just a future version.”

“That wasn’t me,” Bruce countered. His fate had changed long ago; he’d never end up traveling to the distant past.

Sure, he’d gone millions of years into the past during the battle with the Paradox Batman, but that was an entirely different matter.

“Whether it was you or not, it doesn’t change anything,” Kathoom said. “Now you know my history—so what? It’s just a funny story to tell.”

Bruce rolled his eyes.

“Bottom line,” Kathoom said with a sigh, “I’ve known you since hundreds of thousands of years ago.”

—

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!