Each clash between the Sword of Hephaestus and the Dark Greatsword unleashed a shrill scream powerful enough to tear eardrums.
Diana completely abandoned any defense or technique; every strike she delivered was aimed at mutual destruction, the divine fire burning on the blades drawing desperate golden trails in the dim space.
This was no longer a battle, but a pure catharsis, an indictment of the twisted monster before them.
The Merciless response bordered on humiliation.
His left hand, Mjolnir, could always parry and deflect at the most tricky angles, while his right hand, wielding a dark greatsword, was like a venomous snake, always leaving deep, bone-revealing wounds on Diana just as her old strength was exhausted and her new strength had not yet been generated.
He didn't even move a step; he simply stood still and toyed with the strongest Amazons warrior.
With another loud clang, the Sword of Hephaestus was deflected by the Mjolnir of Thor, and Diana staggered, her chest gaping open.
She saw an opportunity, a chance to exchange her own serious injury for an effective attack.
Instead of retreating, she faced the approaching dark greatsword head-on, jerking her body to the left and letting the cold blade slice through her shoulder blade. At the same time, she channeled all her strength into her right arm, and the Sword of Hephaestus in her hand transformed into a golden lightning bolt, piercing straight into the heart of the Merciless!
This sword strike embodied all her divine power and will.
"Clang--!"
The expected sensation of flesh being pierced did not come; instead, the sound of metal clashing against metal came from beneath the sword tip.
The blade of the Sword of Hephaestus pressed firmly against the black armor, spitting out blinding Mars, but it could not advance an inch further.
A flicker of despair crossed Diana's eyes. Her all-out attack had only managed to leave a deep scratch on her opponent's breastplate.
She, on the other hand, was completely exposed to the opponent's attack range.
The Merciless glanced down at the scratch on his chest, his gaze beneath the helmet seeming to flicker.
Instead of using his sword, he raised Mjolnir in his left hand and casually swung it at Diana, who was standing right in front of him.
"Boom!"
Diana felt as if she had been hit head-on by an entire mountain range, and every bone in her body was groaning.
She flew backward like a cannonball, crashing heavily against the wall in the distance before sliding to the ground.
She tried to get up, but her body wouldn't obey her commands; every breath aggravated her broken ribs, bringing excruciating pain.
Tap tap tap...
The footsteps grew closer, the Merciless stood before her, looking down at her condescendingly.
"Your divine blessings, the Lasso of Truth, and the Silver Bracelet of Reflection are meaningless before the pure power of war."
His voice was cold and calm, as if stating a fact, "You fight with pity, while I've abandoned all soft-heartedness—that's the difference between us."
He paused, then gently tapped Diana's back with the tip of the dark greatsword.
"The peace you uphold will only breed more Ares and more endless slaughter. Only by completely severing all sentimentality can the never-ending bloodshed be stopped."
Diana's body trembled violently, whether from pain or anger, it was hard to tell.
With her last ounce of strength, she plunged the Sword of Hephaestus into a crack in the ground, using it for support as she slowly and laboriously climbed to her feet.
Diana raised her head, her face covered in blood, yet her deep blue eyes remained bright.
She looked at Bruce, who was being swallowed by darkness, her voice hoarse yet unusually clear.
"You simply... succumbed to fear, Bruce."
The name " Bruce " is like a key, unlocking a long-dormant switch in the Merciless.
His entire suit of armor emitted a faint groan, like metal being twisted.
"Clang!"
He threw Mjolnir and the Dark Sword to the ground at the same time.
He stepped forward, and his large, steel-forged hand grabbed Diana by the neck, lifting her into the air.
Through the slits in the helmet, Diana saw a pair of eyes that were no longer calm; they burned with a mad flame.
"You really do look like my Diana,"
He growled, his hot breath hitting Diana's face, "Even the words you advised me before you died are exactly the same!"
His fingers began to tighten, and a feeling of suffocation instantly enveloped Diana.
Just as her consciousness was about to fade, she suddenly tightened her arms crossed over her chest.
"Buzz--!"
The Bracelets of Submission burst forth with dazzling golden light, and a visible shockwave spread outwards from her center!
The Merciless was forced back a step by the force, and the hand gripping her neck involuntarily loosened its hold.
Diana fell to the ground, greedily inhaling the air.
Without a moment's hesitation, she grabbed the Sword of Hephaestus from the ground and, with her last ounce of strength, brought it down on the opponent's head!
However, the attack missed.
The Merciless merely tilted its head slightly, thus dodging the fatal sword strike.
He swiftly snatched the Sword of Hephaestus from Diana's weakened hand, then delivered two powerful punches to her abdomen without hesitation.
"Puff!"
Diana's body arched like a shrimp, her stomach churned, the world before her eyes began to spin, and all her strength was completely drained away by those two punches.
She collapsed to the ground, completely powerless to resist.
The Merciless glance at the Sword of Hephaestus in his hand, the merciless Iron Fist casually tossed it aside.
He dragged Diana by the ankle, like a corpse, to a wall of the Colosseum.
On that wall hung a huge, ancient coin, as big as a shield.
Instead of the usual portraits, the coins are cast in a sacred metal with densely packed reliefs of Amazon Warrior, each the size of an ant.
The Merciless extended its steel fingers and gently tapped the enormous coin.
Thump!
A deep, muffled sound, like a heartbeat, rang out.
The numerous reliefs on that coin began to wriggle and peel away.
One by one, translucent Amazons ghosts, their faces contorted with resentment and anguish, struggled to crawl out of the coin. They let out silent shrieks, their empty eye sockets fixed on Diana lying on the ground.
"Look at your people, Diana." The Merciless voice carried a cruel satisfaction. "They all died because of your soft heart and naivety. Now, they will tear you, this hypocritical, compassionate princess, apart with their own hands."
He stepped back and made way for him.
"You should also experience firsthand what a world without mercy is like."
Countless Amazons ghosts from Themyscira, like a flood bursting its banks, surged towards the powerless Diana with overwhelming resentment.
Diana lay on the cold ground, looking at the faces that were once familiar but now only filled with hatred, and slowly closed her eyes.
Just as those countless hands filled with resentment were about to touch her, a sharp whistling sound rang out.
Whoosh---!
An ordinary, even somewhat worn, Batarang ripped through space and landed precisely on the ground between Diana and the undead army.
The next second, a violent explosion rang out!
The violent shockwave scattered the Amazons ghosts and separated Diana from the Merciless.
From the depths of the shadows of this vast underground arena, two figures slowly emerged.
A man dressed in classic Gothic attire, with pale skin and teardrop-shaped lines under his eyes, is the epitome of someone who loves to stir up trouble.
Another figure froze the Merciless in place.
The man was wearing a signature Batman suit, but the bat emblem on his chest was a striking blood red, and his face beneath the mask bore the marks of age and hardship.
The Merciless looked at the troublemaker who had suddenly appeared and disrupted his "sacrifice," his voice deep and resonant beneath his helmet.
Who are you?
The figure in the red Batsuit ignored him and went straight to Diana, carefully helping her up.
He turned around, looked at the completely black monster opposite him, and spoke in a similarly aged and hoarse voice:
"I am Batman."
He paused, his gaze piercing through the mask, meeting the Merciless directly.
You can also call me Thomas Wayne.