At the center of the ruins of the clubhouse, the air was thick with the scent of ozone, burnt wood, and lingering, acrid stench. Batman moved like a specter through the shifting smoke, his movements a masterclass in efficiency. Every strike was calculated, every gadget deployed with surgical precision to neutralize the remaining goblins and Huntsmen without the need for lethal force.
To his left, Jason Blood was a whirlwind of ancient martial skill, his blade humming as it parried blows that would have cleaved a lesser man in two. He didn't even need to summon the demon; the sheer weight of his experience as a knight of old was enough to keep the Huntsclan at bay.
Zatanna stood at the heart of the magical storm, her fingers dancing through the air as she wove spells that turned the environment itself against her enemies. A wave of her hand turned a flurry of arrows into a shower of harmless confetti; a sharp command sent the very floorboards rising to bind the feet of those who dared approach. But her primary focus was the massive, shimmering indigo dome she had erected around the entire clubhouse. It was a masterpiece of containment magic, a barrier designed to ensure that not a single soul could leave the premises without her consent.
The Grandmaster, however, was reaching his breaking point. His ash-form swirled violently, his red eyes glowing with a mixture of fury and burgeoning desperation. Every time he attempted to reform and strike at Lao Shi, the Old Dragon's jade-fire staff was there, repelling him with a heat that threatened to scatter his essence to the winds. He looked around the battlefield, seeing his Huntsmen falling one by one, and Ralph—the goblin crime lord—bound in magical chains, a victim of his own greed.
Ralph, using the chaos to his advantage, tried to sneak on the Orb. But, the moment he did it transformed into magical chains and binded up. Talk about uno reverse.
"Enough!" the Grandmaster roared, his voice a jagged rasp that seemed to vibrate through the very foundations of the building.
He realized the orb they had bled for was a decoy—a clever ruse that had cost him his best men. The frustration was a physical weight, crushing his pride. He couldn't win this day. Not against this combined might.
With a sudden, violent surge of energy, the Grandmaster slammed his hands together. A shockwave of grey soot exploded outward, momentarily obscuring the vision of everyone in the room. Through the haze, a series of intricate, glowing crimson magic circles began to form beneath the feet of the remaining Huntsclan members.
"The Hunt does not end in a cage!" the Grandmaster hissed.
Zatanna's eyes widened. She felt the surge of teleportation magic. "No!" she shouted, her voice laced with command. "!pohS! !yats!"
She poured her will into the indigo barrier, reinforcing the walls of her magical prison. The barrier flared with light, pushing back against the encroaching crimson circles. For a heartbeat, the two forces clashed, the air screaming as the laws of physics and magic buckled.
Then, with a sound like shattering glass that echoed in the souls of everyone present, the indigo barrier simply... fractured.
The crimson circles flashed with a blinding brilliance, and in the space of a single breath, the Grandmaster, Huntsgirl, and the handful of surviving Huntsmen vanished. The displacement of air left a vacuum that pulled at the tapestries and debris, followed by a deafening silence.
Zatanna stumbled back, her hand flying to her chest. She was pale, her eyes fixed on the spot where her barrier had been breached. "That's... that's impossible," she whispered, her voice trembling with genuine shock. "I anchored that barrier to the ley lines. Nothing in this realm should have been able to punch through it like that. Not without a God-tier artifact."
Batman stepped up beside her, his cowl hiding his expression, but his posture was tense. "They must have had help. Someone powerful."
"Someone very powerful," Jason Blood added, sheathing his sword. "To breach Zatanna's ward... we are dealing with a force beyond common occult."
The clubhouse, once a den of supernatural plotting, was now a silent ruin. The bodies of Ralph's thugs lay scattered across the floor, and the air was heavy with the settling dust of the battle.
At the center of it all sat Ralph. The goblin crime lord was still wrapped in the glowing chains that had once been the fake orb. His mouth was clamped shut by the spell, his eyes darting frantically between the five figures now converging on him.
Lao Shi, Batman, Zatanna, Jason and Jake.
Jake looked like he had been through a war. His transformation had slipped, leaving him in his human form, though his eyes still held a faint, reptilian glow. His clothes were torn, his skin was covered in soot and scrapes, and his breathing was heavy with exhaustion. Even still, he was looking at Ralph with tremendous hatred.
The silence grew heavy. The "group of five" circled the bound goblin, their presence forming a wall of judgment. Ralph gulped, the movement visible even through the magical binding.
Jake stepped forward, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. He looked at Zatanna, his eyes pleading, filled with a raw, simmering anger that seemed out of place on the teenager's face.
"Zatanna," Jake rasped, his voice cracking slightly. "Can you... can you give me five minutes with this guy? Just five minutes. Alone."
Zatanna looked at him, her initial instinct being to say no. She was a hero; she didn't believe in senseless retribution, and the look in Jake's eyes suggested something far from a standard interrogation. She opened her mouth to provide a stern refusal, but then she caught Lao Shi's gaze.
The Old Dragon didn't speak. He simply shrugged his shoulders—a subtle, weary gesture that spoke volumes. He knew what Ralph had done. He knew what had happened to Fu Dog. He knew the burden his grandson was carrying.
Zatanna sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of the night's events. She looked back at Jake, seeing the pain behind the anger. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she whispered a few words in reverse. The chains holding Ralph didn't disappear, but the silence spell on his mouth shattered.
"Five minutes, Jake," she said softly. "Not a second more."
She grabbed the collar of Ralph's magical bindings and practically tossed the goblin toward Jake. The crime lord hit the floor with a grunt, his impeccable silk suit now stained and rumpled.
Jake didn't say a word. He didn't need to. Despite being dead tired, a dark, predatory grin spread across his face. He slowly cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing like small gunshots in the quiet room.
Ralph's eyes went wide. "Now see here, Dragon! I have rights! I demand to see the counsel! I—"
Jake didn't let him finish. He reached down, grabbed Ralph by the scruff of his expensive neck, and began dragging him toward a side office that had somehow remained mostly intact during the skirmish.
"Wait! No! You can't do this! Help! Someone—!" Ralph's screams were cut short as the door slammed shut.
The four remaining heroes stood in the main hall. Batman turned his back to the door, his gaze fixed on the entrance of the clubhouse as if scouting for further threats, though his ears were undoubtedly tuned to the room behind him. Lao Shi leaned on his staff, his eyes closed in a moment of quiet reflection.
Soon, the screams started.
They were the screams of someone experiencing the absolute terror of a dragon's wrath—the sound of high-pitched goblin shrieks, the thud of furniture being overturned, and the occasional roar of a flame that stayed contained within the room's four walls.
The group outside stayed silent, each lost in their own thoughts about the cost of the night.
Finally, the door creaked open. Five minutes were done.
Jake stepped out first. He looked even more exhausted than before, but the raw, jagged edge of his anger had smoothed out into a grim satisfaction. He wiped a smudge of soot from his forehead and nodded to his grandfather.
—-----------
Almost an hour later, two dragon escorts—sent from the council council—arrived in flashes of green light to take custody of the prisoner. They stepped into the room and dragged out what was left of Ralph's composure.
The goblin crime lord was a pathetic sight. Half of his face was covered in red, angry burns where dragon fire had come just a bit too close. His body was a map of bruises and painful blisters. His once-impeccable clothes were shredded, a complete mess of silk and singed fabric. He didn't even try to scream anymore; he just whimpered, his eyes glazed with a newfound terror. He was being taken to face the Dragon Council, and for the first time in his life, Ralph seemed to realize that no amount of gold would save him from this mess.
As the escorts vanished with their prisoner, Lao Shi reached into the folds of his robes. He pulled out a small, pulsing orb—the real artifact that everyone had been seeking.
He turned to Jason Blood and held it out. "This belongs in a place where its power cannot be felt by those who would use it for evil," Lao Shi said, his voice firm.
Jason Blood took the orb, his hand lingering on the cool surface. He nodded solemnly to the Old Dragon and shook his hand. "It will be kept safe, old friend. You have my word".
Across the room, Jake was with Fu Dog. The shar-pei was sitting on a pile of rubble, looking less scathed despite the ordeal he had been through. Jake didn't say a word; he simply collapsed onto his knees and pulled the dog into a crushing, desperate hug.
"I'm sorry, Fu," Jake whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn't have forced you like that. I should have protected you".
Fu Dog, who was currently occupied with a burger in one paw and a sandwich in the other—treasures he had apparently scavenged or conjured the moment the fighting stopped—paused his eating. He looked at the boy who was more like a son than a ward.
"Eh, forget about it, kid," Fu mumbled through a mouthful of bread and beef. "I've had worse afternoons. Besides, look at me. I got a burger, I got a sandwich, and I'm still the best-looking dog in the room".
He leaned his head against Jake's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort. "It's alright. You're a dragon. You should be tough. Now, you gonna let me finish this burger, or are you gonna cry all over my lunch?".
Jake let out a watery laugh and squeezed him one last time before finally letting go. The battle was over.