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

Chapter 1061 How could the new father be here at this time?
While Mark was contemplating how to court disaster and provoke the other fathers, the war between Raven and Mordred was far from over.

Raven remained with her arms crossed, her pretty face cold, occasionally glancing at Mordred, who was stroking Murphy's fur not far away.

Xiao Mo, on the other hand, had a "I love that you can't stand me but can't do anything about it" attitude. He deliberately rubbed his hand on Murphy's smooth fur, which made the golden retriever whimper in dissatisfaction.

She then glanced triumphantly at Raven and muttered, "Calm down, Murphy. My temper isn't as bad as others'. I have the same good temper as Father."

Raven's eyes were practically spitting fire.

Clark stood by helplessly, trying to soothe both sides with his eyes, but to little avail.

Ah Zu, on the other hand, was watching TV in the living room, seemingly unconcerned about the situation.

Although he now finds Mordred extremely annoying, he's not in the mood to cause trouble for the time being.

After being defeated by Mordred, Azu coveted the power of that vampire.

Compound V plus vampires, is that a good idea?
Despite knowing the danger, he couldn't resist the urge to investigate.

Star-Lord stayed in his room, pulled out an old Walkman from somewhere, put on the headphones, and tapped his feet to a rhythm that only he could hear.

The carefree man has completely moved on from the vampire incident.

In his room on the second floor, Mark was secretly spying on the group.

Provoking Raven?

Raven is a witch, and magic is difficult to deal with, but pure physical strength does not seem to be insurmountable.

Ah Zu?

Although the eldest brother is usually a bit arrogant and his thermal vision is troublesome, his speed might be worth a try.

Is he courting death and provoking Clark?
The thought had barely crossed his mind when he suppressed it; that was a monster on a completely different level.

After the incident with Dr. Manhattan, Mark realized that Clark was definitely one of the main characters in this world, besides his father and Batman.

Star-Lord?

With his flashy equipment and godlike genes, provoking him would be somewhat difficult.

Mordred?

The youngest sister's power surged when she became the vampire queen, but now that she's back to normal, her power has probably diminished considerably. However, we can't clash with her now, as everyone is watching her closely.

Boom and Vivo?

No, these two are younger sisters who need to be cared for, and Ceresa is no exception.

Tom and Loki?
These two are not too challenging; they can do the same magic as others.

So annoying!
I'm not a warmonger by nature. My wish is to study hard and work as a clerk in the Ministry of Magic, or become a dragon tamer in the Hogwarts world. I'm not good at fighting.

Just as Mark was getting worried, footsteps came from the farm.

Strangers have entered the farm.

Mark's thoughts were interrupted as he looked at the visitors entering the farm.

Raven's gaze, which had been fixed on Mordred, froze, as she was drawn to the visitors entering the farm.

Even Mordred, who was "fighting" with Murphy, stopped ruffling the dog's fur and curiously tilted her head to look at the doorway.

The person who came looked to be around ten years old, dressed in a black outfit that blended gothic punk and futuristic styles.

She wore a pair of black boots and had short, silver-white hair.

"Ceresa, are you there?"

A little girl, barely over ten years old, called out timidly from the doorway.

In the living room, Seresa, who was engrossed in the complex runes of the magic book, suddenly looked up at the door upon hearing the sound.

When she saw who it was, her big eyes widened instantly, filled with unbelievable surprise.

"Joan of Arc?!"

Ceresia let out a short, joyful cry and almost leaped to her feet.

The heavy magic book fell to the ground with a "thud," but he didn't care at all.

Like a joyful little deer, she rushed swiftly toward the silver-haired, purple-eyed girl with unsteady steps.

"Joan of Arc, is it really you? Where have you been? I miss you so much!"

Ceresia rammed her head into Joan of Arc's arms, rubbing her little head against her clothes, her voice filled with deep grievance.

"I saved so many candies for you, and I also saved the biggest piece of the new bear-shaped cookie that Daddy just baked for you, but you still haven't come!"

Joan of Arc, or rather Elaine, also showed an excited expression.

She reached out and awkwardly grasped her best friend's hand. "I'm sorry I was held up by something, Ceresia."

The fathers looked at each other in bewilderment when they saw Elaine, the little girl they had seen before, return to the farm.

The little girl seems to have grown up quite a bit, and her aura has changed somewhat.

Zatanna, who heard the noise in the living room, came downstairs and looked at Elaine with intense curiosity in her eyes.

He sensed an extremely peculiar aura emanating from the girl who called herself Elaine—not pure magic, nor superpowers, nor technological creations, but an energy field closer to the origin, yet carrying a certain contradictory quality.

Ceresia didn't care about the reactions of others. She hugged Elaine tightly, tilted her little face up, and kept asking questions.

"Joan of Arc, Joan of Arc, where have you been all this time? Have you been on another secret mission? Did anything fun happen? Did you bring me a gift?"

Elaine looked at Ceresa's bright, expectant eyes and scratched her head a little embarrassedly.

"Um, Seresa, I went to... take care of some family matters."

Elaine took Ceresa's hand and whispered to her, "Do you remember last time?"

"Mr. Peter... together with Michael, defeated the corrupt Sandwind."

Seresa nodded vigorously, her little face turning serious.

That battle, involving supreme power, was also deeply memorable for her.

Elaine said with a somewhat melancholy tone, "Later, in the deepest part of the void, the creative power released by His Highness Michael to purify Sandwind caused... an unimaginable 'big bang'."

She paused, seemingly searching for the right words to describe what transcended that scene.

"And at that moment..."

Elaine lowered her voice slightly, “Lucifer… he used the purest creative energy that overflowed from this explosion.”

"He used his own position as a container to guide and contain the burst of energy, and then... 'blown' a 'bubble'."

"Bubble?"

Ceresia tilted her head, looking puzzled.

"A new universe."

Elaine continued to whisper to her, "A completely new and independent cosmic bubble was created by the Morning Star himself, with Michael's power as its foundation. Lucifer stayed there and became the 'God' of that newborn universe."

"And... what about Prince Michael?"

Ceresia asked worriedly.

"The explosion of creative power nearly exhausted him, but it also... purified him."

Elaine explained, "His body began to rebuild itself, and soon... he was resurrected, returned to Earth, and found me."

Her tone changed slightly, "He wants me to go back to heaven with him."

"You refused?" Seresa's eyes widened.

“Hmm.” Elaine nodded gently, offering no explanation, as if it were the most natural decision she could make.

"But he gave me this before he left."

She raised her hand, and there was something in her palm that she didn't know had appeared there.

It was a round ball about the size of an egg, completely black, and without any luster.

It looks like some kind of metal, or like solidified shadow, with an incredibly smooth surface that seems to absorb all the light around it, even sight.

Just looking at it gives one a strange sense of unease and a feeling of oppression on a spiritual level.

“He said,” Elaine’s voice became unusually low as she stared at the black sphere in her palm, as if it could pierce through the endless darkness, “that inside… is my grandmother’s soul.”

"grandmother?"

Ceresia was even more confused.

Elaine did not answer directly, but slowly closed her fingers, gripping the unsettling black ball tightly in her palm.

"Later... I left home."

She skipped over a past she clearly didn't want to discuss, her tone becoming somber, "But outside, I was attacked."

"Not a vampire, but something else... Barthanos."

The air seemed to chill as she uttered the name, “The living tarot cards in Melios’s hands, cards that have come to life.” “Living tarot cards? Why are they attacking you?”

Seresa couldn't help but ask.

"I do not know."

Elaine opened her palm, revealing once again the black sphere that absorbed all light, her tone becoming more serious.

"However, I suspect their target might be... me. After all, my 'bloodline' is a temptation for some beings, as Michael told me."

She gripped the black ball tightly, her gaze returning to Ceressa.

"As for the previous vampire incident... I was hiding in a very well-isolated place, so I wasn't affected. Once the thick fog that covered the sky dissipated, I came out to find Mr. Patrick and you."

Ceresia nodded as if she understood, but as long as she could see Joan of Arc again, she didn't care about anything else.

She reached out her small hand and carefully touched the back of Elaine's hand that was holding the black ball.

"It's alright, Joan of Arc, it's good that you're here. It's safe here, and Daddy will definitely protect us."

Her little face radiated pure trust and joy.

Elaine looked at Seresa, and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly again, revealing a warm smile.

She gently squeezed Ceresa's small hand in return. "Thank you, Ceresa."

"You're welcome. We're true friends, aren't we?"

night.

The living room at Patrick's Farm at dinnertime was filled with a strange yet lively atmosphere.

The long wooden table was piled high with food, the Persephone stew was still steaming, and freshly roasted, golden and crispy ribs were piled up like a small mountain.

In addition, there were honey biscuits made with a secret recipe from Paradise Island, brought by Diana, and an upgraded version of the giant vegetable soup that Artoria had previously "fought" with.

The air was filled with a variety of enticing aromas.

The new guest, Elaine Bellok, sat next to Ceressa.

In front of her was only a small salad and a glass of water, a stark contrast to the large bowls of meat on the table.

The girl's hair shimmered softly under the warm light, her eyes lowered, occasionally glancing up to quickly scan the people at the table before looking down again.

Peter sat in the main seat, his gaze occasionally falling on Elaine.

This girl, whom Ceressa calls "Joan of Arc," is, according to information he learned in his previous life, likely to become the new God of the DC Universe.

This concept was very appealing to him.

After all, in the DC Universe, the most mysterious and powerful being is God.

But God never appeared; he did have a few so-called agents, though.

This girl should be the one closest to God, if she is from the original timeline.

Diana sat opposite Elaine, and the Amazonian princess showed Elaine an almost maternal concern and curiosity, and couldn't help but ask a few more questions.

Elaine gave a cautious reply.

At the other end of the table, however, lies a completely different scene.

Artoria Pendragon, the Knight-King of Britain, is fully engaged in another "sacred" battle.

She seemed oblivious to the subtle atmosphere and conversation around her, her entire attention focused on the mountain of food piled up in front of her.

Artoria's eating speed maintained that efficient and focused "kingly demeanor," her movements not appearing rough, but rather carrying a beauty that combined strength and elegance.

The plate emptied at a visible speed, the bones were gnawed clean, and the newly served ribs were soon reduced to bare ribs.

Elaine would occasionally glance up and catch a glimpse of this scene, and a hint of astonishment would involuntarily flash across her eyes.

She had clearly never seen anyone (or any being) treat food in such a solemn and swift manner.

Seresa, on the other hand, was used to it and even tried to secretly give the carrots from her plate to Artoria.

But he was stopped by the latter's calm and unwavering gaze—the Knight King was not picky about food, but he also did not accept "food offered with contempt," especially vegetables!
The other fathers, however, each had their own thoughts.

Mark ate in silence, his gaze occasionally sweeping over Elaine and Peter, as if he were weighing something.

Raven continued to glare at Mordred, and her movements as she cut meat with a knife were unusually forceful.

Mordred, however, didn't seem to care, eating with his hands covered in oil, and occasionally casting curious glances at Elaine.

Ah Zu and Star-Lord seemed somewhat distracted.

The dinner, which had a complicated atmosphere, was drawing to a close as Artoria finished off the last rib.

Late at night.

The farm returned to its proper tranquility at night, the daytime hustle and bustle and tension seemingly blown away by the cool night breeze.

Peter was in his room, holding a cup of warm milk with honey, looking at the distant, indistinct outlines of fields and barns under the moonlight.

Many things have happened recently: the threat of the Dark Multiverse, the shadow of Barbatos, Elaine's arrival, and the unsettling black orb in her hand...

Everything felt like a heavy stone pressing on my heart.

He needed this moment of peace to sort out his thoughts.

Just when Peter thought that this long and chaotic day could finally come to a temporary end.

"Boom!!!"

A sudden, deafening roar that tore through the night sky abruptly came from the distant horizon.

The sudden sound was like the shrill cry of some enormous creature breaking through the atmosphere at extremely high speed, violently rubbing against the air.

Peter sprang up from the rocking chair instantly.

His first thought was—Elaine's enemy.

Those living tarot cards, or something worse, came tracking them down.

Without the slightest hesitation, his figure vanished from the porch like a ghost, and the next moment he appeared in the center of the courtyard dozens of meters away, so fast that he left a trail of afterimages.

Peter's deep gaze shot toward the direction from which the sound came—the vast cornfield on the east side of the farm, which had just been tainted by the vampires and was only beginning to be purified by the green of all things.

In the night sky, a huge black shadow trailing long plumes of black smoke and a fiery red tail was crashing headlong into the depths of the cornfield in an out-of-control manner.

"Damn it!"

Peter cursed under his breath, then pushed off with his feet, shooting off like an arrow towards the cornfield.

Peter was faster than any other vehicle, and in a few leaps, he had already rushed into the dense cornfield.

The tall corn stalks, like green walls, were smashed apart and broken by his violent speed.

Peter's gaze was fixed on the crash site, the air thick with an increasingly pungent, acrid smell.

As he got closer, he could see the huge crater that had been smashed into the cornfield ahead.

The plants on the edge were burning fiercely, and the leaping flames reflected the scorching gas rising and twisting.

As Peter burst out of the cornfield and was about to step into the wrecked landing site, something suddenly occurred to him.

His figure suddenly stopped, abruptly halting at the edge of the cornfield.

If this is the spaceship of the one who sent his father away from his grief, then that's clearly not right.

Peter raised his wrist, his gaze quickly sweeping across the watch screen.

The hands on the dial are still a short distance from the end of the dial.

That means it will take at least a month for the next "father of sorrow" predicted by the system to arrive.

"It's not the right time..."

Peter's heart sank, his brows furrowing deeply. "The time hasn't come yet. This spaceship wasn't sent by the system?!"

How can this be? !
This system, which comes from the legacy of a higher civilization and may even involve a higher being, has never made a mistake.

Every time a "child" is sent, an early warning is issued with unparalleled accuracy.

This spaceship, which suddenly intruded and was clearly a crashed vessel, was completely outside the system's predictions.

A tremendous sense of doubt and an unprecedented unease gripped him.

Peter slowed his pace, more cautiously pushing aside the last few burning corn stalks, and stepped into the charred crater created by the spaceship impact, which still emitted scorching heat.

The bottom of the pit was a mess, with a strangely shaped spaceship, clearly not belonging to any known technology on Earth, stuck diagonally in the steaming mud.

It has a matte dark gray finish, with smooth and strange lines. Several damaged parts occasionally emit eerie blue sparks and make a crackling sound.

The spaceship wasn't particularly large, but it was severely damaged.

Thick white steam was billowing out from the cracked hatch and damaged engine of the spaceship, obscuring visibility.

Peter held his breath, his powerful senses like invisible tentacles piercing through the steam and reaching out to the silent spaceship.

(End of this chapter)