Carol pulled herself out of the dent in the floor, covered in dust and grime, and stared blankly at her mother.
"Mom? What was that...?"
No matter how slow she was, she had realized what kind of combat ability and force technique her mother had displayed just now. Even during her years on Hala, she had never encountered such a powerful warrior.
The comrades in the Executioner Squad looked like children compared to her mother. And Mary clearly had not used her full strength just now. Perhaps, in her eyes, she had merely given her daughter's butt a casual smack.
With outsiders present, Mary could not explain her identity. She merely helped Carol up and wiped her daughter's face with her hand.
"Little bean, hurry up and apologize to the Sorcerer Supreme. How could you call him Dad? We overstepped."
"The... Sorcerer Supreme?"
Carol was even more bewildered. She was practically hallucinating, because she saw her newly adopted cat looking at her disdainfully from the side.
Her mind was a mess. All she could think of were the sort of mages in Broadway performances, the kind who pulled rabbits out of top hats.
Then she looked at Deathstroke again. He wore heavy armor and possessed the brute strength to lift airplanes. How could he possibly be a mage?
Seeing her daughter's foolish expression, Mary could not help but sigh.
It was all because she had known nothing back then. When choosing a mate, she had picked an Earth warrior who was only good at killing people. Her children had clearly not inherited her intelligence; they had all taken after their father.
Which meant they had no brains at all, only air inherited from him.
Only later had she learned that humans who only knew how to kill were called grunts