Son of The Savage (A DC Si)

10 advanced chapters on Patreon.com/Saintbarbido.

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(General P.O.V)

(A few hours ago) 

Fighting was easy for her. It just made sense. The way the body moves was like a song. And everyone had their own harmony.

The shift of muscles was akin to the twang of a string instrument. The grind of bones like a percussion. The pump of the heart like drums.

And by listening with her ears and seeing with her eyes, she could understand the language of movement, and respond in kind.

By comparison, words were harder to grasp. Her Master had told her that her brain was wired differently.

It wasn't that she was disabled, far from it. She was blessed.

[Don't go easy on him Cassandra] her Master signed to her with a few finger movements.

[I understand Mother]

Cassandra signed back, her hands pausing in the air, unsure whether to ask the question on her mind.

Lady Shiva noticed it.

[What is it?]

Cassandra shifted her footing, body slightly turned as she regarded the Shadows waiting for her around the shores, closer to the air craft that was their transport to the Island.

Only, they weren't really Shadows. Merely disguised as them.

[Who are they? They do not move like us.]

She signed.

The admonishment she was expecting didn't come. If anything, her mother smiled.

[A Test. Remember, the Son of the Savage is no regular competitor. To prove himself one test is not enough.]

Lady Shiva replied.

[Go with them, carry out your mission but do not interfere with theirs.]

(Angel's P.O.V)

Along with the howls that filled the room, 

69 bodies lay around us, fresh blood leaking to the floor and adding to the congealed fluids from my dead executive's bodies.

Shade had shot each and every single one of them, before they even got 2 meters near me. The bullets came through the shadows at the same time. 

Something that was scientifically impossible, but Shade could achieve by delaying time on his shadows. 

Hence a bullet shot 5 seconds ago would reach its target at the same instance as one shot 4 seconds later.

Thus, all 69 Shadows met their end at the same time. Let it not be said my glorified transport was weak. 

I say 69, because the last one, the one who had held my Groundskeeper captive, was choking on his own blood, a star shot through his throat. 

The one responsible was her. My opponent. 

She turned to regard me and the two of us held gazes until she raised her hand, revealing the letter that was on Deathstroke's hand, clasped between her fingers. 

Speaking of, the Terminator was curled up on the floor, his hands cupping his groin. 

"Will you keep it down?"

I raised a foot and slammed it down on his back, stopping him from crawling away. 

His howls changed to whimpers. 

I used a leg and flipped him over, stepping on his wrist before he could point the gun in his hand my way.

"What's wrong Deathstroke, feeling emasculated?"

"Y-you shot m-my dick off."

He whined, causing me to chuckle. 

"To be fair, you did try to kill me."

The bastard thought I would let that shit fly. 

"You should be glad he didn't aim for your heart. Shade is pretty handy with a gun, as the state of your men will tell you."

That's when he looked around, finding all the Shadows on the ground. Unmoving. 

The Terminator stiffened, the pain in his balls momentarily forgotten as he realized his situation. 

"I-"

I held up a hand, stopping his next words. 

"I only have one question."

The ice in my tone had him gulping. 

"I didn't lie when I said Deathstroke would rather shoot himself on the foot, than show his face to me. So my question is..."

I leaned closer. 

"Who the fuck are you?"

His jaws bit down on something, but I landed a chop on his throat, preventing him from swallowing the poison. 

I flicked his forehead, instantly knocking him out, before the flame I had created on the tip of my nail burned away the mask without searing the skin of his face. 

A familiar pale face and bald head was revealed to me. 

With a sigh, I stood up. 

"Kobra. I should have expected something like this."

We had had some dealings in the past. And by dealings I mean that Father had sent me to deliver a message to the Kobra cult, after they had tried to branch into a particular lane reserved to Vandal Savage. 

All bio-weapon production on the planet was overseen by Father's criminal empire. Now my Criminal Empire. 

Bio-weapons were bad for business after all, and so they needed a strict governance. There was no shortage of big headed Mad Scientists who for some reason or other, wanted to plunge the World into chaos by building dirty bombs. 

Whether for revenge, monetary gain or some other Agenda, if they weren't working for Governments under Father's purview, then they were 6 feet under. 

"Check the rest."

I instructed Shade, wiping my hand on Kobra's fake Deathstroke costume, after wrenching his jaw open to remove the cyanide. 

"Young Master, you were right. They all have Kobra Cult tattoos on them."

Shade informed. 

So, my suspicions were proven correct. I got to my feet, freezing Kobra's groin lest he bleed out. 

"Death is too merciful for him. Send him to the Dungeons. We'll have our other guest go through his mind and uncover who else he was working with. I highly doubt Ra's Al Ghul would pull something like this."

"What about these bodies Young Master?"

Shade asked. 

"Don't care."

I shrugged.

They were only some nameless Kobra goons. 

"I believe I might have a better suggestion Young Master."

Shade replied with a bow,

"An example needs to be set for others stupid enough to cross you."

Oh. That sounds interesting. 

"Okay then, Surprise me Shade."

With a final bow, he, Kobra along with every dead body sank into the shadows, leaving only three people in the premises. 

I turned to my Groundskeeper. 

"Agnes, could you go and organize clean up for all this blood?"

"By your leave Young Master."

She bowed and hastily left, throwing a final look at the assassin that had saved her. 

And then there were two. 

My opponent turned to face me, a certain tension on her body. She gave off the feeling of being ready for a fight. 

I raised my hands in a non-hostile move. 

"I'm not looking for a fight."

She eased up, but remained guarded. 

"What's your name?"

I questioned but she remained silent. 

Not just silent either, it seemed like she couldn't understand me. So I tried a few different languages like Japanese, Mandarin, Spanish and Russian. 

All of my attempts failed, in fact she seemed even more confused. 

Wait, even earlier she hadn't said a single word. Could she be deaf? It wasn't too unexpected. 

Some of the greatest fighters had honed their other senses to crazy levels inspite of having a disability.

[What's your name?]

So I switched gears and used sign language. Travelling all over the world for the better part of half a decade, had allowed me to pick up many skills. 

She seemed surprised at first and then tentatively, she signed back. 

[Can't say. Not allowed to]

I nodded at that. It made sense. An Assassin's secret identity was even more protected than a Superhero's. 

[You are an exceptional fighter]

I complimented. 

[Who trained you?]

The reply came a second later. 

[My Master.]

[What is your Master's name?]

She hesitated to answer. 

[Are you part of the League of Shadows?]

I changed the subject. 

[Yes.]

She confirmed, casting a gaze at the blood around the room.

[The ones who attacked you...They were not League.]

[I see] I scratched my chin in thought. 

So it either means she really wasn't aware of the trap, or she's really good at lying. 

I was leaning more on the former. Not because I'm overly trusting but it just made sense. Otherwise she would have helped them attack me and not saved Agnes like she had. 

I looked up as something flew my way. My hand shot out and grabbed the parchment she had thrown at me. 

[My mission was to test you. You passed] 

She signed, turning in a bid to leave. 

[Wait. Thank you.]

I signed back, causing her to stop for a second or two. The way she rubbed her hand gave the impression of embarrasment. 

[On the Island, we will finish our fight. And I will win]

She promised in a rush of sign language, throwing a smoke bomb on the floor.

Her form disappeared, leaving me staring at the empty spot for a few seconds in thought. 

I remembered there was something in my hand and turned my attention there. 

"Dear Fighter, I, The Demons Head invite you to an exhibition of your martial skills in the Lazarus Tournament. Earning this letter means you're worthy. But be warned, so are your competition. The Victor's prize is anything you want. Anything you can wish for. Attached are a set of instructions on how to get to Infinity Island. No weapons allowed."

Pretty standard for a letter. It was straightforward and to the point. At the lower portion were a set of directions to follow. 

I folded the letter and placed it inside my pocket. 

Now, where the hell am I going to get another group of Executives to manage the company in my absence? A sigh escaped me. 

"Damn Kobra."