Transformed into the DC World

Malcolm was becoming increasingly perplexed about his illegitimate daughter. His original plan was for the two of them to engage in a fierce battle, for him to defeat her with an absolute advantage, and for her to recognize her shortcomings while maintaining the motivation to continue improving. But why had that changed?

When Thea's arrow flew past, Malcolm realized that not taking his bow had been a huge mistake. Now, he could only maintain a defensive stance against long-range attacks, holding his knives with both hands, constantly deflecting arrows, dodging, or blocking them. After enduring the barrage, he suddenly noticed that Thea was gone.

Damn it! Who the hell was trained by the League of Assassins here?! Why is she the one ambushing me?

Malcolm knew Thea was still nearby, but his perception wasn't as sharp as hers. All he could do was keep changing his position, staying on guard for possible attacks. For the moment, the situation was slightly unfavorable for him.

His only hope was that his daughter was still young and unable to hold her breath for too long. As long as she attacked first, he could even out the situation and perhaps defeat her with his superior combat skills.

The two began a game of patience. Thea hid behind a tree, silently observing Malcolm's shoulders and feet. She didn't dare look directly at him because, at their level, even eye contact could signal hostility.

After analyzing his reflexive movements, she roughly calculated Malcolm's perception range—about eight meters. Hers, on the other hand, was fifteen meters, putting him at a complete disadvantage.

From twenty meters away, she fired an arrow at a distant spot. With a snap, Malcolm swiftly swung his long blade, slicing the arrow in half in the blink of an eye. He then rushed toward the shot's origin, but as he got closer, he realized Thea had disappeared again.

No, I can't fight like this. He was already old, and after a few more shots, his stamina would start to wane. Malcolm turned around and attempted to retrieve his bow. As long as it was in his hands, he wouldn't have to worry about Thea's harassment. After all, her archery skills were far inferior to his.

But Thea wasn't about to let him do as he pleased. When Malcolm was just three steps away from his bow, she quickly fired two arrows. One struck the bow on the ground—if he reached for it, he'd be hit. The other embedded itself right at his feet, forcing him into a dilemma. He couldn't move forward or stay put; his only choice was to retreat.

And so, the game began. No matter which direction Malcolm ran, Thea could always anticipate his movement and fire accordingly. Each time he tried to advance, two arrows came flying, forcing him back to his original position. The cycle repeated itself over and over.

Malcolm was so frustrated he could feel his teeth ache. Where the hell did she learn these tactics?! I just want a proper fight! Why is this so difficult?!

After being forced to retreat for the fifth time, he began to recognize Thea's pattern. This time, he was determined to retrieve his bow no matter what.

Two arrows came flying as expected. Fully focused, Malcolm quickly threw his katana into the air, using it to deflect the incoming arrows. At the same time, he rolled forward, dodging yet another shot. Now I've got it! He grabbed his bow, confident that the battle was about to turn in his favor.

But just as he was feeling victorious, something felt off. He suddenly felt a tightness in his chest. What's going on?

He turned around quickly and saw Thea closing in on him at high speed.

"Yes!" Thea shouted, feeling an electrifying thrill rush through her body. Every muscle was alive with energy. She dashed forward like a cheetah, holding a dagger in her left hand and a long blade in her right.

Why is she suddenly giving up long-range combat to fight me up close?

Malcolm realized—too late—that he had made a rookie mistake. Thea had run out of arrows! He had failed to consider that and had naively assumed she could keep shooting indefinitely. She had intentionally maintained a rapid firing pace to apply psychological pressure, never giving him a chance to think about her limited supply of arrows.

After firing her last shot, she charged straight at him without hesitation. It was like a sprinter launching off the starting blocks. In just seconds, she had already crossed twenty meters, and Malcolm finally realized—he had been tricked.

To make matters worse…

He had thrown away his own sword before realizing the mistake!

Malcolm glanced at his katana, now lodged in a distant tree trunk, and felt as if the damned blade was mocking him. Seriously?! I made such a rookie mistake? Am I really getting too old for this?

But there was no time to dwell on it. Thea was already upon him, swift as the wind. She struck diagonally with her left-hand dagger, aiming to knock away his bow, while her right-hand blade slashed toward his ribs.

Am I supposed to block this with my bow?

A recurve bow had some rigidity, but it wasn't exactly designed for melee combat. He tried to grab an arrow to counterattack, but it was already too late.

The tables have turned!

Now, he was weaponless in a close-quarters fight against an equally skilled opponent.

Malcolm dodged and blocked as best as he could, clearly struggling. But as the fight continued, his superior hand-to-hand combat skills started to shine, allowing him to regain his footing.

However, Thea realized that if she kept fighting at this pace, she would eventually lose. So she made a risky move—she threw her dagger directly at Malcolm's face.

Just as Malcolm was starting to feel back in control, he saw the dagger flying toward him and instinctively raised his bow to block it. As the weapons clashed, he immediately realized—there was no force behind the throw.

Damn it! That was just a distraction!

Before he could react, Thea ducked low and, gripping her sword with both hands, slashed straight across Malcolm's ribs.

Danger! I can't dodge this!

His only option was to twist his torso at the last moment to minimize the damage.

At the same time, he let go of his bow and, using the momentum from his twisting motion, clenched his left fist and punched Thea hard in the face.

With a thud, Thea staggered back two steps, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. But she ignored the pain, instead focusing on her attack's outcome. Then, she grinned triumphantly.

"Ha! Dark Archer, you're injured! That wound looks at least ten centimeters long. Can you still use your core strength? Can you still run at full speed? You once told me that a waist injury is worse than a leg injury. You always said that disabling your opponent was the key to victory. Do you still think so now?"

Malcolm gritted his teeth. That's not what I said! That was Ra's al Ghul!

He was furious—but at the same time, he felt a surge of pride.

He had been wounded by his own daughter, someone who had only been training for six months.

Not bad…

After all, among all the League's trainers, who was the best gardener in the DC universe?

Him, of course.

And his student? She wasn't bad at all.