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SM/DC Chapter 22 : Secrets of Blackwynd.
🕑 Added 2025-02-06 20:32:49 +0000 UTCArthur sat back in his chair, the soft hum of his computer filling the silence of the room. The faint glow of the screen illuminated his face, highlighting his sharp features as he scanned through pages of information about his family’s businesses. It all seemed standard nothing that stood out or made his stomach churn with unease. Just the usual: real estate holdings, a few tech companies, agricultural investments, some research labs scattered across the globe. Nothing out of the ordinary.
He leaned forward, tapping his fingers against the desk, eyes narrowing. "Blackwynd Science Group," he muttered under his breath. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he dug deeper into the files.
It looked like another generic corporation, focused on genetic engineering and tech innovations. But something felt off. He scratched his head, frustration starting to seep in. “Fucking hell... even Cyborg’s information is nothing much unless he's keeping things from me, which isn't unlikely."
His gaze flicked to his left, where Blade, his newly acquired shadow soldier, knelt on the floor. The figure was still, silent, his head bowed in submission.
Arthur’s lips curled into a faint smirk, his thoughts drifting. “This is all because you can't speak,” he muttered. “How can you be ‘the Deathstroke’, but only an elite knight rank shadow soldier? You’re a shadow of what you once were, no pun intended."
Arthur pushed his chair back and stood up, pacing as his mind wandered. "I need to go back to the tower... Level up some more. Get stronger, so all of you can get stronger as well.”
The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, darker, as if Arthur’s words had summoned something. He glanced to the right where one of the demons sat patiently, watching him with eerie eyes.
Arthur stopped in his tracks, a thought suddenly occurring to him. “How can you talk, even though your rank is lower?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
The demon’s eyes flickered, and then it spoke, a deep, guttural voice escaping its lips. “My lord…”
Arthur winced and shook his head, raising a hand in a dismissive gesture. “Just stop.” The sound of the demon's voice had unsettled him, but it wasn’t the answer he was looking for.
The room fell into silence again, save for the soft creak of the chair as Arthur settled back into it. He leaned back, glancing at the screen once more. There was something he was missing. Something deeper than what the files told him.
Arthur stared at Blade, his fingers idly rolling the jagged green crystal between them. The Kryptonite caught the dim light of the room, casting eerie reflections against the walls. His expression was unreadable, but there was no mistaking the disappointment in his voice.
"And I thought you'd be useful..."
Blade lowered his head even further, pressing his forehead against the cold wooden floor in silent submission. The once-feared Deathstroke, now an Elite Knight in Arthur’s shadow legion.
Arthur let out a slow breath, flexing his fingers before tightening his grip around the Promethium Sword. The weight was perfect not too light just right for someone who had grown stronger, far stronger, in the recent time. He inspected the weapon, the dark alloy shimmering under the dim light, and let a small smirk tug at his lips.
"Although… I did get something amazing," he muttered to himself.
[Promethium Sword (S-Tier)]
A blade forged from an ultra-dense Promethium alloy, known for its near-indestructible properties. The sword is imbued with an adaptive enchantment that sharpens with the wielder's intent. Capable of absorbing kinetic force to reinforce its strikes, it cuts through most materials with ease.
Arthur sighed, rolling his shoulders. It was a fitting weapon, especially now that his strength had grown. He pulled up his status screen, eyes scanning the numbers before him.
[Name: Arthur Blackwynd]
[Job: Soulwarden → Necromancer]
[Title: Bane of the Unworthy] (+20% attack against those who harbor evil intent)
[Level: 50]
[Fatigue: 0]
[HP: 4450]
[MP: 6200]
[Strength: 104 → 110]
[Health: 88 → 98]
[Agility: 54 → 58]
[Intelligence: 122 → 130]
[Sense: 54 → 58]
[Available Ability Points: 12 → 0]
[Passive Skill: Tenacity (Level 1)]
[Job-Specific Skill: Shadow Extraction
Shadow Exchange]
[Skills: Bloodlust (Level 1)]
Equipment : Azarath Knight Armor Set
Abyssforged Necklace
Promethium Sword
[Inventory:]
Greatsword of the Lowborn
Tower of Fate Key
??? Key
Arthur looked at Blade and sighed, shaking his head. "Get up."
Blade obeyed immediately, rising to one knee. Arthur studied him for a moment, then held up the Kryptonite between two fingers. "Just answer me with a nod," he said. "Do you know where this shipment came from?"
Blade's response was swift. He turned his head slightly and gestured toward the computer screen. Arthur followed his gaze, his eyes narrowing as they landed on an image a sleek, towering skyscraper with the words Blackwynd Science Group stamped across its facade.
Arthur exhaled sharply through his nose. "You did say you were employed by us and not Lex..." he muttered, rubbing his temple. His eyes lingered on the tower, mind already racing with possibilities.
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. "That's where my brother works..., the tower of fate can wait for now, i need to get to the bottom of this before the Titans do."
****
The dining room was warm, filled with the soft clatter of silverware and the gentle murmur of conversation. The aroma of roasted meat and spices lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of wine from his mother’s glass. It had been a while since Arthur sat at this table, longer still since his brother had joined them.
His mother smiled, cutting into her steak as she glanced between her two sons. "You know, for the longest time, it was just Adam who barely came home. Now it's you, too," she mused, a teasing lilt in her voice. "I suppose that's just part of becoming a man, huh?" she added, "Don't tell me, it’s a girl, isn’t it?"
Arthur exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You’re not far from the truth," he said, taking a sip of his drink.
His mother’s eyes lit up, and she leaned forward slightly. "Oh? Now this is interesting,"
Across the table, Adam set down his fork, studying Arthur with a thoughtful expression. "You look sharper," he said, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Clearly, you've been working out."
Arthur met his brother’s gaze, unreadable. His fingers curled slightly around the stem of his glass. ‘Is this the one I suspect? The mastermind running Blackwynd Science Group, supplying Lex Luthor with Kryptonite, my own brother?’
That thought unsettled him more than he liked to admit. He was used to seeing the world in black and white those who were threats and those who weren’t. But this was different.
Arthur clenched his fist under the table, his knuckles pressing into his thigh.
"Arthur?" Adam’s voice pulled him back.
He blinked, masking the hesitation in his expression before offering a casual shrug. "Oh yeah," he said. "Working out. You could say that."
Adam nodded and got up seemingly satisfied. "Well, as long as my little brother is okay, I'll be leaving soon."
Arthur didn’t respond immediately, only studying his brother for a moment longer. Then, subtly, without so much as a flicker of movement, he attached a shadow soldier to Adam’s form. It slipped into his brother’s presence seamlessly, unnoticed, binding itself to his shadow like an unseen phantom.
His gaze lingered for a second, his lips pressing into a thin line. There was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but he pushed it aside.
‘This way, I don’t have to infiltrate or act weird.’
