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SM/DC Chapter 33 : Back to The Tower of Fate
🕑 Added 2025-02-17 22:15:44 +0000 UTCArthur noticed the extra footsteps following him outside the house.
His eye twitched. "You know you can leave now, right?" he said without looking back. "I already have one person stalking me."
Kara, walking just a step behind him, smirked. "Oh? And here I thought you’d be flattered that I want to spend time with my savior."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "You almost punched a hole through me, Kara. Pretty sure you didn’t need saving the moment i set you free."
"That’s not the point," she said, stepping up beside him. "The point is, you saved me, when no one else did."
Arthur sighed. "Look, I don't have time or energy for distractions right now. I’ve got school, then an important... business trip."
Kara arched an eyebrow. "’the school trip’ lie you just told your mother?"
Arthur deadpanned. "Yes. Business. Very important, very confidential. Can’t tell you."
She crossed her arms. "Then I’ll stay."
Arthur came to a halt, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of course you will."
She grinned at him like she just won an argument.
Arthur let out a long, exaggerated sigh before shrugging. "Fine, you win. You’re a Kryptonian...I can’t beat you to a pulp here and then go on my way. For now."
Kara snorted, covering her mouth. "Wow, romance really isn’t your thing, huh?"
Arthur ignored her and waved a dismissive hand. "How about this...I’ll be back in about ten days or so. You want to hang out or whatever? Fine we’ll call it a date."
The moment the words left his mouth, Kara's expression lit up.
"Really?"
Arthur regretted his life choices instantly. "...Yes."
Before he could process what was happening, she shot up into the sky like a missile.
"I’LL HOLD YOU TO IT!" she yelled, her voice carrying over the wind as she disappeared into the clouds.
Arthur stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where she had just been.
Then, with all the enthusiasm of a man trudging to his own execution, he muttered, "What the hell did I just do?" before continuing on his way.
****
The final school bell rang, and Arthur wasted no time grabbing his bag and heading for the exit. The halls were crowded with students eager to leave, but Arthur weaved through them effortlessly, his mind elsewhere.
As he stepped outside, he casually scanned the area.
No sign of the Titans or anything unusual.
Not that he expected them to show up, but still…
He smirked to himself. "Guess they took the hint. Or maybe… some of them are hospitalized?"
He hummed in amusement at the thought. Not that he went hard on them.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he turned away from the bustling school grounds and started toward his true destination, the Tower of Fate.
The farther he walked, the more the scenery changed. The neatly paved roads gave way to cracked concrete, the buildings becoming older, rougher, as he entered the slums of Jump City. Fewer streetlights worked here, casting long shadows in the alleys, making the whole place feel like something out of a crime thriller. Arthur barely paid attention. His mind was locked onto one thing, the entrance to the tower.
Arthur took a deep breath.
"Alright… let’s get this over with."
Then, without hesitation, he used the key and entered.
The second he crossed the threshold, the system reacted.
[You have cleared the first ten levels of the Tower of Fate.]
[Would you like to teleport directly to Level 11?]
Arthur blinked. Then smirked.
“Well, that’s convenient,” he muttered.
No pointless climbing, no retracing old steps...straight to the action. He liked that.
He didn’t hesitate. "Level 11."
The moment the words left his lips, the air around him shifted.
The world distorted, the very fabric of reality twisting as golden light enveloped him. His vision blurred...gravity itself seemed to bend...and before he could even take a step forward…
He was already there.
Level 11.
Arthur’s vision adjusted as the golden glow of teleportation faded, and he immediately noticed the change in scenery.
The air was thick with dust, the walls damp and aged. He stood in an ancient underground labyrinth, dimly illuminated by torches flickering with unnatural blue flames. The scent of mildew and old blood clung to the air. The architecture was archaic—far older than anything he had seen before. Twisting corridors stretched out in multiple directions, lined with faded murals of figures in dark cloaks, their eyes hollow and ominous.
Before he could take another step—
His instincts screamed.
A blur of movement. Shadows detached from the walls. Steel glinted.
Arthur barely shifted before a curved blade sliced toward his throat. His Ruler’s Authority surged, and with a mere thought, the assassin was violently hurled back like a ragdoll, crashing into the ancient stone wall with a sickening crack.
“Tch.” Arthur’s eyes sharpened as more figures emerged from the darkness—at least a dozen.
They were clad in tattered but deadly assassin garb, their movements eerily silent. No footsteps. No breathing. Just pure, predatory intent.
Arthur moved first.
The nearest assassin lunged—Arthur’s Promethium Sword sliced through his midsection, the enchanted metal shearing through armor like paper.
Another one aimed for his blind spot—Arthur spun, Ruler’s Authority catching the assassin mid-air, snapping his wrist backward before throwing him into two others with bone-breaking force.
A flurry of blades rained down from the shadows. Arthur lifted his palm—Ruler’s Authority seized them mid-air. The assassins barely had a moment to react before their own weapons reversed and impaled their throats.
Bodies hit the ground.
Arthur exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “That was annoying.”
His senses flared again. More.
He didn’t even need to turn around to know—they were watching. Waiting.
“…Persistent bastards.”
Arthur cracked his neck, then without hesitation, lifted his hand.
“Rise.”
The temperature in the tunnel dropped. A thick, black mist seeped from the ground, curling unnaturally as his shadows stirred to life.
Two figures emerged from the darkness beside him.
One was Blade, his silent enforcer, standing with his ominous jagged sword at the ready, his eyes glinting like cold steel in the dim light. The other was a pair of his shadow demons, their bodies twisting and shifting unnaturally, barely containing their excitement at the promise of slaughter.
Arthur flexed his fingers, gripping his sword. “Even you guys might have trouble with this lot.” He exhaled, smirking. “Doom is just overkill.”
From the depths of the tunnels, the assassins moved in.
Arthur grinned. “Let’s get started.”
*****
By the time he reached level 20 , the torches flickered, casting eerie shadows across the ancient chamber. The stench of death and decay lingered in the cold air, mixing with the faint scent of incense. The walls were lined with archaic carvings...tales of war, conquest, and rebirth.
At the center of the room, standing atop a stone dais, was a man who had lived for centuries.
Ra’s al Ghul.
The Demon’s Head stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his emerald eyes glinting with condescension. His dark robes, embroidered with golden patterns, barely moved in the still air.
"You move well, boy," Ra’s remarked, his voice smooth yet laced with arrogance. "Efficient. Ruthless. A warrior unshackled by morality, i like that." He smirked slightly. "But reckless. Shortsighted. Power without wisdom."
Arthur said nothing. His eyes glowed ominously, his Promethium sword resting casually at his side.
Ra’s took a slow step forward, his confidence unshaken. "Tell me, Arthur Blackwynd… Do you even understand what im saying.”
Arthur sighed. "You done?"
Ra’s chuckled. "You have potential. More than even the Detective. But you lack purpose, and I shall..."
Ra’s body moved like a phantom, suddenly closing the distance between them in a blur of motion.
A dagger, its edge laced with poison, sliced toward Arthur’s throat.
SHING.
In one impossibly fast motion, Arthur vanished from where he stood.
A dark blur streaked past Ra’s. A gust of wind followed.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then
Ra’s froze mid-sentence. His smirk twitched. His eyes widened slightly.
A thin red line formed across his throat.
Arthur stood behind him, his sword extended, glowing faintly with residual power.
Ra’s opened his mouth to speak...but only blood escaped.
His head slid from his shoulders.
THUD. His body crumpled unceremoniously to the ground.
Arthur exhaled, watching as the great Ra’s al Ghul fell, his legendary immortality unable to save him this time.
He kicked the severed head slightly with his boot. “Weak.” then he added “for a guy who talks so much about wisdom, you should’ve known when to shut up.”
With that, he turned, flicking his sword to the side...dark blood splattering against the stone floor...before walking toward the next challenge.
