DC: Rise of the Kryptonian Tyrant

"Artemis!"

Phillipus was stunned. She hadn't expected that the female secretary beside Barmulodi possessed such combat power.

To be able to injure Artemis, both in strength and timing, was clearly at the level of an elite warrior. Blood was already dripping from Artemis where she hung on the wall.

But—

Even at that level, it wasn't enough to seriously injure an Amazon warrior. Their bodies were far from fragile.

Artemis wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She jumped down from the crater in the wall and landed with a bang. Standing upright, her face stern, her eyes burned with rage. Her fists clenched tightly. The bronze hue of her skin revealed defined muscle lines, and a powerful sense of pressure radiated from her body like a mountain bearing down on the air, making the atmosphere feel heavy and sticky.

She would not be taken down so easily again.

Artemis had endured hundreds of battles. Just now, her rage had clouded her judgment, and in a moment of carelessness, Hera had slipped into her chest's centerline and knocked her away.

If she truly wanted to defeat her, it would likely take smashing through the entire office.

Of course, that couldn't happen. This was Bardi's office.

Artemis took a step forward. Her movement was heavy with fury. Cracks spread beneath her feet, and the air around her rippled like waves, twisted and distorted by pressure. Her furious eyes locked onto Hera beside Bardi.

Someone as powerful as herself, yet she attached herself so willingly to Bardi's side, behaving like a cat being petted.

No dignity. No pride of strength. Reduced to a man's vassal, played with by a man.

Artemis frowned. This kind of woman was simply a disgrace to all women.

A humiliation to womanhood!

She was even peeling grapes for Bardi!

At that moment, Artemis considered Hera an opponent. She respected her strength and was eager to fight her again. Even if she were to fall in battle, she would not regret it.

Watching Hera serve Bardi in such a shameful manner made Artemis's anger surge again. She prepared to charge forward and engage her in another fight.

"Artemis, stop!"

Antiope raised her hand to block Artemis and turned her gaze toward the screen.

Artemis paused. Her heart tightened. She followed Antiope's line of sight to the display.

The nuclear missile was already soaring over the shimmering Atlantic.

The sight chilled the hearts of the Amazon warriors.

If the missile detonated, Paradise Island would become a page in history.

The priority now was not rage, but stopping the impending annihilation of the Amazons.

In an instant, Artemis felt as if she had been doused in cold water. She calmed down, no longer swept up by fury.

Yet her eyes still drifted toward Hera beside Bardi. She couldn't help but feel anger and dissatisfaction all over again.

Watching Hera skin and deseed fruit for a man, feeding it to him with her own hands, being caressed like a pet, and humbling herself so willingly.

She had the power to rival Artemis, yet had become nothing more than a vassal.

Seeing this woman, whom she had just recognized as a rival, acting in such a way—

Artemis's heart was filled with indignation, as if silently being told she wasn't worthy of facing Bardi directly. That she was only fit to fight his plaything.

Artemis let out a low growl from deep in her throat, like a beast. She repressed her fury, glaring at Hera and Bardi, holding herself back.

But then Antiope, sister to Queen Hippolyta of the Amazons, did something that shocked them all.

Antiope was overcome with sorrow. Her expression was a tangle of grief, fury, and dissatisfaction. She lowered her head, hiding her pain from Artemis and Phillipus. She wanted to cry. Her eyes welled with tears. Her teeth clenched. Her face filled with anguish. Her fists trembled beside her thighs as she suppressed her despair.

Boom!

Antiope dropped to her knees, her head bowed low. Her voice trembled.

"Your Majesty, I am willing to surrender. I will serve as a soldier under your command. Please grant me some time to persuade the Amazons to follow you, Your Majesty, as warriors with nowhere else to turn."

She had abandoned all the dignity of an Amazon commander. No longer the sister of Queen Hippolyta. No longer the proud Amazon who feared no death.

She was not afraid to die. But this was no longer a matter her death could solve. This was about the survival of the entire Amazon people.

In comparison, her dignity, pride, and resolve meant nothing.

What mattered now was preserving the Amazons.

She once again addressed Bardi as "Your Majesty" and knelt.

This was not war.

There was no honor.

Nothing here justified the death of Amazon warriors.

This was not a glorious end for the Amazons, but a senseless massacre. A death without resistance.

Faced with destruction, the survival of their race hinged on Bardi's whim. For the Amazons, she could only kneel.

This kind of death was unacceptable, especially for her sister, Queen Hippolyta, the highest authority of the Amazons.

No matter what, she could not allow the Amazons to perish because of her and the others.

"Antiope, are you insane?"

Artemis's rage turned to shock. She stared in disbelief at Antiope, who had bowed before this man and pledged to serve him, even going so far as to persuade the Amazons to submit.

For a moment, Artemis felt as if the sky had collapsed. Her eyes lost focus. She couldn't believe what she was witnessing.

The Amazons were not afraid of death, yet now Antiope, their respected leader, had knelt and submitted to save her own life. To bow before a man!

Was this still an Amazon warrior?

"Antiope! You betrayed the Amazons!"

Artemis screamed in pain and fury. She was so overwhelmed she could no longer think clearly.

What Antiope was kneeling on was not just the ground—it was Amazon dignity. Her own will. The firm belief the Amazons had upheld for generations.

Artemis could not accept this.

Slap!

Beside her, General Phillipus raised her hand and struck Artemis across the face. The loud slap echoed in the room.

Artemis was stunned for a moment. The slap had landed heavily, striking her hard across the cheek.

Phillipus, with her calloused hand from years of training, grabbed Artemis's shoulder and pressed down hard, her fingers digging into her flesh.

"She did not betray the Amazon!"

Phillipus's eyes burned with fury. Her voice was low and gritted out word by word, like a volcano about to erupt.

Artemis couldn't comprehend it. The Amazon general, normally calm and reserved, was now consumed by rage. Her eyes flared with volcanic heat.

The moment Antiope knelt and spoke, Phillipus understood exactly what she meant.

As Amazon leaders, their responsibility was to guide their people to survive, not lead them into meaningless death.

In a time when the gods had abandoned them, the Amazons had to carve out a new path.

Not be wiped from the Earth in a flash of nuclear fire, vanishing from history in silence.

Her grip tightened on Artemis's shoulders, causing pain in her bones. Phillipus's burning gaze did not waver.

Artemis looked at her with wide eyes. Phillipus was the general who had trained her, the one she deeply admired.

Artemis had always been reckless and impulsive, but she was not a fool.

The moment she was slapped, a flicker of understanding dawned on her. She realized she had said something terribly wrong.

Her lips moved, but she said nothing more to break Antiope's heart.

Antiope—

She had given up her dignity.

(To be continued.)

***

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