American comics: Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!.

Chapter 1052 Mordred and his son kill each other!

"Roar!"

The moment the Doomsday virus was injected into Batman's carotid artery, a roar erupted from his chest.

Batman's battered body rapidly swelled up.

At the broken left arm, a stark white bone spur pierced through the flesh and grew out instantly.

His new arm was several times thicker than before, covered with a rock-like keratin layer and bone spurs.

His muscles bulged and stretched, straining to burst his tattered armor.

The spine pierced through the back, forming a row of menacing, bony spikes.

To Superman's astonishment, Batman the Destroyer was born.

The mockery on Superman's face froze instantly, replaced by astonishment and fear.

"What?! How could you!"

Superman took a step back in disbelief.

Without a word, the Destroyer unleashed its massive fist, covered in calluses and bone spurs, with a piercing shriek that tore through the air, and with a speed exceeding Superman's reaction limits, slamming it into Superman's face.

"boom!!!"

A muffled explosion rang out, and Superman's head twisted violently backward at a horrific angle, his nose collapsing instantly, blood and teeth splattering out in a mixture.

He was as if he had been hit by a speeding train, turning into a blurry afterimage as he crashed through several ruined buildings behind him.

Smoke and dust quickly rose into the sky and spread in all directions.

The ravager strode forward, crushing the ground with each step, leaving deep cracks in its wake.

He walked up to Superman, who was embedded in the rubble and whose face was covered in blood.

Those eyes, burning with anger, looked down at his former best friend.

“You’re right, Clark… Trust only leads to destruction.”

The ravager slowly lowered his head, looking at Superman groaning in pain.

"What...did you do?!"

Superman's voice was distorted by the excruciating pain of his broken sternum.

The ravagers did not answer.

He lowered his head, looking down at the tiny "god" at his feet, his massive body leaning slightly forward, his head covered with bone spurs and rock-like keratin close to Superman's bloodstained face.

Then his enormous mouth, filled with fangs, slowly opened, "Whoosh—!"

A thick, green gas of kryptonite, like the breath of hell, was suddenly exhaled onto Superman's astonished face.

The gas, like a living venomous snake, instantly burrowed into Superman's mouth and nose, and even surged into his body through the tiny pores of his skin.

"Uh...cough cough...no!"

Superman instantly felt a sharp, corrosive pain explode from his lungs, quickly spreading throughout his body.

He clutched his throat in agony, trying to stop the gas from getting in, but it was too late.

The next second, chilling sounds erupted from inside Superman's body.

Beneath his skin, it felt as if countless venomous insects were frantically crawling.

His eyeball burst first, and sharp, rock-like spikes, carrying viscous blood and nerve tissue, pierced his eyelids and shot straight into the sky.

Immediately afterwards, his mouth was ripped open, and sharp spikes burst out wildly from his gums and the base of his tongue. His chest was like a bomb detonated from within, with countless spikes of varying lengths tearing through his uniform.

In just a few seconds, the former god of the human world was transformed into a twisted "stone hedgehog" by the ravages.

In excruciating pain, Superman's last vestiges of consciousness were completely extinguished.

Those eyes that once reflected the blue sky and white clouds are now filled with only despair and death.

Seeing that he had killed Superman, the Destroyer slowly straightened up his massive body and stood in the center of the ruins of the now-dead metropolis.

His eyes slowly swept over the few survivors peeking out in terror from behind the ruins.

A thought that completely deviated from all of Batman's beliefs roared in his heart, which was filled with a destructive will:

"If this power had been used earlier to spread the virus and turn hundreds of millions of people into ravagers, then people would not have been deceived and ravaged by an alien."

If I had used this virus to infect other citizens earlier and transformed them into this state, I wouldn't have been attacked by Superman.

The light from the "golden toilet" suddenly went out, and the image disappeared in an instant.

Peter suddenly opened his eyes, breathing slightly heavily.

Cold sweat soaked his back.

Shocked, he stood up from the "golden toilet".

Was the Doomsday Batman he just saw a story that took place in another dark universe?

And the one who orchestrated all of this behind the scenes was a being called Barbatos?
As his power gradually increased, coupled with some residual memories from his past life, Peter began to sense the existence of the Dark Multiverse.

Barbatos is the god of darkness in the DC Dark Multiverse.

Peter recalled what he knew about Barbatos from his previous life.

In the beginning of the universe, sparks of molten potential emerged from the darkness, which then created two opposing entities: matter and antimatter.

Along with them come a pair of brothers (the Watcher and the Counter-Watcher), born to watch over all existing creations, and a third party whose mission is to guard the things of the future.

The Third One lives in the Crucible of Worlds, also known as the Dark Multiverse. Like a craftsman, he forges the hopes and fears of all living beings into countless universes. The most stable of them rise to the cosmic orbit, while the distorted and impermanent worlds are destroyed by a giant dragon of the craftsman, allowing their energy to return to the Crucible of Worlds.

However, the dragon only saw destruction and eventually killed its master, preserving the world that was supposed to be destroyed.

It is Barbatos, the personification of destruction and darkness, the synonym of despair.

Stroking his chin, Peter began to piece together the information he had seen on the "golden toilet" and to make inferences.

As they entered the DC Universe, the ships of the "Fathers of Sorrow" also entered one after another.

The dimensional barriers that should be incredibly strong between universes may have cracked under impact.

Through these cracks, the primordial chaotic energy from the Warhammer universe—Khorne's rage, Tzeentch's cunning, Slaanesh's corruption, and Nurgle's decay—entered his own universe.

However, these deadly chaotic toxins did not immediately unleash a devastating wave of destruction in the main universe (the world he inhabited).

Instead, drastic changes occurred in the deeper, darker places—the Dark Multiverse.

The Dark Multiverse is a quagmire of despair composed of countless twisted, dying, and hopeless parallel universes, which is the most suitable environment for the existence of the Chaos God.

And in the deepest part of the "swamp," Barbatos—that enormous shadow dragon—lies dormant.

Perhaps it sensed the influx of this "delicious" putrid poison, and then, like a cunning spider, it proactively spread its giant web woven from pure darkness, capturing this chaotic energy from another realm.

Based on what he had just seen of "Batman the Destroyer," Peter deduced that Barbatos was frantically injecting the captured Chaos Corruption into the cores of the dark parallel universes it controlled.

Those heroes in the universe who were already on the verge of collapse, the members of the Justice League, especially Batman, were corrupted by this "virus" that was a mixture of the whispers of the Chaos God and the dark will of Barbatos.

Thus, hope was twisted, courage was alienated into tyranny, and love degenerated into possession and destruction. These superheroes were corrupted and twisted, turning from guardians into the most terrifying destroyers.

Each fall, each apocalypse created by the hero himself, is like offering a sacrifice to Barbatos, causing its dark power to expand rapidly like a black hole.

It uses the despair and destruction of these universes to continuously increase its power.

As for why the meteorite carrying the power of the Chaos God pierced through the crystal wall of the main universe and crashed in Gotham, Peter speculated that perhaps Barbatos had deliberately planted the seed.

A probing attack, used to observe the main universe's reaction.

As a result, the meteorite found its host: a Nightwing named Dick Grayson who had just been bitten by a vampire, was physically and mentally exhausted, and was immersed in pain and confusion.

Then there's Hal, the traitor. When he infiltrated the farm and worked with Nightwing, another traitor lurking around Bruce, it led to the current situation where vampires are everywhere in the world.

However, things took an unexpected turn. Nightwing, the vampire king, was overthrown by Mordred after only a few days.

He hadn't expected Mordred to be so capable, not only becoming the Vampire King but also defeating Azu and Clark.

He was unsure whether to be angry or proud of his youngest daughter, Mordred.

Furthermore, even if Xiao Mo's power increases, none of you older brothers and sisters can stop her.
This mischievous child almost destroyed the world.

Peter is currently unaware that Raven has been captured. If he were to find out that his beloved eldest daughter had also failed, he would probably be so angry he'd vomit blood.

After a moment, Peter finished thinking and took a deep breath.

His gaze passed over the Asgardian temple and looked into the distance, where he seemed to see the crimson sky of the real world.

The meteorite is the key, the evil god is the mastermind, and Barbatos is the mastermind who sits at the end of the game.

Ending this turmoil isn't difficult for me now, but dealing with the potential invasion of the Dark Multiverse is the bigger problem.

As far as he knew, Barbatos's relationship with Batman was somewhat unusual.

Back when Bruce was a child, when Peter was dealing with the Court of Owls, he saw some documents that mentioned the words "Barbatos" and "Batman".

He suspected that Barbatos's agents, the Court of Owls, had been planning something, and that it was related to Bruce.

Meanwhile, Peter was sitting on the golden toilet, contemplating the union of the Chaos God and the Dark God.

Beside the World Tree on the farm.

Artoria Pendragon is pulling Excalibur from the twisted chest of a vampire.

The blade trailed a trail of dark red blood. Her golden braids were slightly disheveled from the fierce battle, and a few strands, stained with sweat and splattered with blood, clung to her smooth yet cold forehead.

The black robe had been torn in several places during the previous battle, revealing the silver-blue inner armor that shimmered faintly beneath.

Her eyes calmly scanned the battlefield, searching for the next threat to be eliminated.

Suddenly, her hand holding the sword paused almost imperceptibly.

A faint yet incredibly familiar and sharp aura of hatred and rebellion instantly pierced through the battlefield's clamor and penetrated her senses.

Mordred!

The name struck Artoria like a thunderclap in her soul.

The blood-red sunset over Kamran, the blood-stained blade, the eyes burning with madness and despair beneath the opponent's helmet, and the cold, icy sensation of the armor shattering as I pierced their chest...

Countless tragic scenes, buried by time but never truly healed, surged forth like a flood bursting its banks.

Artoria's fingers tightened instantly around her sword without the slightest hesitation, and she didn't even say a word to Diana or Ciri, who were fighting alongside her.

The next second, Artoria's figure transformed into a swift golden streak, ignoring the two low-level vampires rushing towards her, and shot straight toward the forest from which the aura emanated with superhuman speed.

The wind pressure whipped up fallen leaves and dust, leaving a brief trail of air behind her.

The light inside the forest suddenly dimmed, and the intertwined branches of the towering oak trees cut the pale moonlight into fragments, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

The air was filled with the damp smell of decaying leaves and a faint odor of blood.

Artoria stopped at the edge of a small clearing in the woods, Excalibur pointing diagonally at the ground.

Her breathing became slightly rapid from the high-speed run, and her sharp gaze quickly locked onto the figure in the center of the open space, with his back to her.

The figure slowly turned around.

Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, outlining her silhouette.

It was still the same menacing black heavy armor I remembered, and the other person had short hair that looked like burning flames, with a few strands sticking up unruly.

The newcomer's physique exuded power, unlike Artoria's restrained and balanced proportions, but rather a wild, untamed tension that seemed ready to erupt at any moment.

The other party is Mordred, but not the berserker in Artoria's memory who was completely consumed by revenge.

Mordred's face was no longer covered by the menacing helmet; the moonlight illuminated her face, making the lines of the young girl's face even sharper and full of unruly angles.

His skin was a healthy wheat color, but now it was shrouded in shadow.

What's most unsettling is her eyes; they are no longer the gentle pupils of a human, but filled with a dark red light.

"Yo."

Mordred began to speak, casually moving her neck, her joints making a slight cracking sound, and her lips slowly twitching upwards into a twisted smile.

"Look who this is! Isn't this our great, eternal, perfect King Arthur?"

Artoria's body tensed instantly, like a fully drawn bowstring.

"Mordred..."

Artoria's voice was low and cold, as she tried her best to remain calm, "Why are you here?"

"Why are you here?"

Mordred let out a low, grating chuckle as if he'd heard the funniest joke, his shoulders twitching slightly.

She took a step forward, her boot crushing a dry twig with a crisp cracking sound that was particularly jarring in the silent forest.

"That's a brilliant question, Your Majesty!"

She deliberately emphasized the last two words, making them sound sarcastic.

"Just as foolish as you were back in Kamran asking me, 'Why did you betray us?'"

Mo's dark red vertical pupils were fixed on Artoria, with flames burning fiercely within them.

“Why can’t I be here? This land, this farm, is my ‘home’ now! My father is Peter Patrick, he is my father.”

Her voice suddenly rose, carrying an almost boastful sharpness.

“He’s not some high and mighty stone man who can only see the throne and his ideals. He’ll pat me on the head and praise me for doing a good job. He’ll frown when I get hurt. He’ll sigh helplessly when I make a mistake. He treats me as a person, a daughter, not as some ‘mistake’ that needs to be erased.”

Mordred has awakened the memories hidden within her body, including her past relationship with King Arthur.

Having become the vampire queen, she has merged the memories of her two lives.

However, due to the influence of the Chaos God and the vampire, the fused memories have left her somewhat mentally confused.

Furthermore, her personality has become more obsessive, and her inner desires have been amplified.

Mordred's dark version of words struck at the heart, deeply wounding Artoria's hidden pain.

Her breathing became heavy, and her knuckles cracked as she gripped Excalibur.

"Look at you, King Arthur."

Mordred opened her arms as if to show off her transformed body.

"You abandoned your kingdom, your round table, everything, and ran away to this strange world like a stray dog. What? Has your ideal of becoming the eternal king been shattered? Has your blueprint for perfect rule been crushed by reality?"

She took a step closer. "Or... have you finally realized that without my mistake and rebellion, your so-called 'perfect' kingdom is nothing but a lie?"

(End of this chapter)