Moving like a specter, Jason slipped through the fortress’s hidden passages—routes only the Demon’s Head and his most trusted knew. The stone walls, usually cold and unyielding, now trembled with the force of battle. 

A shadow lunged at him from a side corridor. 

Jason reacted on instinct—his dagger flashed, steel meeting steel in a shower of sparks. The assassin’s eyes widened beneath his hood. 

“Jase?” 

Jason recognized the voice—Cassius, one of Ra’s elite. The man’s robes were torn, his left arm slick with blood. 

“Where’s Ra’s?” Jason growled, not lowering his blade. 

“The inner sanctum,” Cassius hissed. “Deathstroke’s forces broke through the eastern gate. They’re—” 

A gunshot cracked through the hall. 

Cassius staggered, a bloom of crimson spreading across his chest. Jason yanked him into cover as another bullet ricocheted off the stone. 

“Go,” Cassius coughed. “Warn him, though I fear it might be too late.” 

Jason didn’t waste time on farewells. 

He ran. 

The sanctum doors were shattered. Bodies littered the floor—League assassins and mercenaries alike. The air reeked of gunpowder and death. 

He spotted two figures at the other end, one stood above the other as his glinting sword was placed on the neck of the other.

As he closed the distance, making haste to the opening, he noted the stature of the one above was too different to be Ra’s.

Then he noticed, the attire of the barbequed human who laid on the floor, were worn by Ra’s alone.

Slade stamped his dominant foot into Ra’s chest, placing his sword right against the side of his neck.

“After five hundred years, the world has had quite enough of you, old man. The Lazarus Pit will not bring you back this time.”

With both hands he grabbed onto his sword as he raised it high, prepared to stab it through the Demon’s Head.

“I’ve waited quite a long time for this.” He added.

Slade was unable to finish his downward motion as a heavy kick made way into his chest, propelling him off his feet.

With a flip, he got on his feet and looked up to see who the hell had just interrupted his kill.

“Old man!” Jason exclaimed, a mix of concern and worry in his voice as he sympathized with the grotesque wounds he had conceived.

Deathstroke charged in with a sword in hand, attempting to behead the masked individual who had obstructed him from claiming the victory he had longed for, for so long.

With a swift turn, he parried off Deathstroke’s attack with his blade, sending him back a couple feet.

“How dare yo–” 

“No, how dare you?” Jason retorted, cutting off Deathstroke.

“How dare you do this to the old man? How dare you attack this place?” He asked once more, anger sipping into his voice, rage began to swell up from within.

The closet thing he had to a father figure was dying right before his eyes and the person responsible stood before him.

The thought of how capable Deathstroke had to be to inflict such damage upon Ra’s came to mind but he shrugged it aside, only taking it as a note of caution.

All he could think about was ending the man who stood before him, with the title of world’s best mercenary.

Before his stirring rage, that title meant nothing.

He lunged forward, with his blade in hand as he closed in within Deathstroke’s range for an attack.

It was parried, and countered as Deathstroke used the base of his sword’s handle to jab at Jason’s forehead.

He was quick enough to duck underneath the filthy strike and delivered a strike of his own aimed at Deathstroke’s arm.

With practiced technique, he was able to disarm him as Deathstroke was left with just one sword.

Without needed recovery time, Deathstroke swung his elbow from above with enough force that could dislocate Jason’s shoulder bone.

But he was quick enough to sidestep with his sword going in for a counter strike, aimed at Deathstroke’s torso.

Reaching for his undrawn sword with applaudable speed, Deathstroke blocked the attack.

With skilled foot work, Jason pivolted his way into Deathstroke’s personal space as he successfully landed a jab upon Deathstroke’s nose with his elbow.

He instantly initiated a follow up attack as Deathstroke would be unable to use his sword in such close range, but his attack was thwarted before he could fully initiate it as Deathstroke delivered a high knee swing aimed at his solar plexus.

Skill and reflex came into play as he instantly put up his forearms as guards to shield himself and minimize the damage attempting to be dealt. 

But instead, the force on impact sent him flying as his back smacked into the wall behind.

“You are quite good, for a kid.” Deathstroke acknowledged, making it known he knew Jason was still inexperienced and just in his late teens.

“But not good enough.” He added, walking towards his sword which Jason had disarmed.

“And you are freakishly strong.” Jason stated, pushing himself to his feet as he took on a sword stance.

He was even more eager to end the fight as soon as he possibly could because the more the fight prolonged, Deathstroke would totally have the advantage as momentum was already with him.

Not to mention he was very skilled and has decades of combat experience.

He had read Deathstroke’s file, the details that were given to him before he embarked on his mission to assassinate the man. 

A mission that if had been successful, would have increased his rank and reliability within the League for it would have proven he excels in skill and the title of ‘Assassin’ would have been given to him. 

Ra’s was more likely to have bestowed upon him a personalized title of his own.

But he had missed his target and as if by fate, here he was.

And had committed a crime so heinous that it was unforgivable, Deathstroke needed to be sent off the world of the living and off deep into the depths of hell so Hades and the demons down there would torment him for eternity.

And if they were to ever meet in hell, he would ensure to continue their fight down there until he had destroyed his soul.

That was how much hatred he now harbored for the mercenary.

Jason knew that in his current state, his chances of victory in a straight up confrontation was very slim. But at this point, he didn’t care. 

Deathstroke picked up his sword, his eyes locked unto the masked teenager who glared at him with a fierce look in his eyes. 

They didn’t dim the boy’s worth of even calling his prey. 

His whole invasion and strategized attack was being done according to time, and he did not have much of it left, he and his troops needed to evacuate real soon. 

“Time to end this!”

He lunged forward for a piercing strike, Jason sidestepped and swung his sword to cut off Deathstroke’s arm in counter.

But it was a feint, as Deathstroke’s other sword went in for an horizontal slash attack aimed to cut across his torso.

There wasn’t enough space behind him to step out of the swing’s range because a wall was behind him. It was checkmate…Or so Deathstroke thought, unaware of how nimble and quick on his feet Jason could be.

Much to his surprise, Jason leaped off the ground backwards onto the wall as he pushed off the wall and propelled himself over his blade with a dive. 

Upon impact with the ground, he transitioned into a roll and quickly made way for the nearest wooden pillar.

Before Deathstroke knew it, Jason cut through the thick wood with a single strike. Just as Ra’s al Ghul had taught him during their training in the woods.

The wooden structure above, crumbled upon Deathstroke who was unable to get out on time.

“You little bastard.” He grimaced as his head came through the wreckage first while he made way for his body to pull through.

Jason was right in front of him already.

With one quick strike, he thrusted his sword right at Deathstroke’s face with the intention of driving his blade through the man’s thick skull.

With Deathstroke’s movement partially restricted, he could barely get his face out of the way on time before Jason buried his blade into his right eye but not deep enough to reach his brain.

Aghhhh!!

The pain was so excruciating that he screamed in agony.

Jason did not mind that, but rather proceeded unto a follow up attack as he pulled back his sword and made a horizontal slash with an attempt of beheading the man.

A fitting death, given what he has done.

Deathstroke quickly pulled himself off the wreckage, right on time to fend off the strike with his own blade, pushing Jason slightly off balance.

The sound of a chopper came from above and just as Jason looked up to see if it would rain down bullets, Deathstroke landed an attack.

He kicked Jason so hard that he was sent somersaulting halfway across the yard. He struck his sword into the ground, regaining his bearings.

Looking up, he saw Deathstroke grab onto a zipline dropped from the hovering chopper.

“As much as I’d enjoy playing with you some more kid, It’s time for me to leave.” He announced with a slight hint of amusement in his voice as he stared down the boy.

“No you don’t.” Jason reached into a small pack attached to the side of his belt and pulled out three shurikens which he simultaneously hurled at Deathstroke with speed and precision.

With one hand holding onto the zipline, Deathstroke made use of the other which held his blade as he easily fended off the ninja shooting stars.

“Get back here you coward.” Jason yelled out to him.

“Don’t worry kid, I will make sure to pay you back for this.” He replied as he gestured to his bleeding eye.

Jason said nothing in response but maintained a death glare until the chopper was gone.

“If only I had a gun.” He angrily muttered to himself. “A gun would surely help me get to targets that are far out of range, there’s only so much one can do with a sword.”

He snapped out of his thought as a sudden realization dawned on him. He could still save Ra’s.

With the help of the Pit, he should be as good as new. Turning to the spot where Ra’s barbecued body laid, he was nowhere to be found.

“Where is the geezer?” He muttered to himself as he ran down towards the hidden carven where the pit was located.

As he made his way down the stairs and finally arrived at the glowing cave, he spotted Ra’s lifeless body near the water.

His arm was stretched out, just a couple inches away to the edge of the pool. He appeared to have crawled his way there.

He walked in on a few members who paid witness to the scene with a mournful demeanor as they paid respect to their dead leader.

Damian picked up Ra’s lifeless body in his arm and approached the pit, attempting to drop him into its waters in hope of the miracle waters reviving his grandfather.

Talia made her way to his front, standing between him and the pit as he halted.

“He’s already dead, Damian. There’s nothing the waters can do for him now.” She said to him in an attempt to persuade him from completing that action. 

Yes, dropping her father’s corpse into the Lazarus Pit could revive him. But there was a high probability that it might only bring his body back to life, which would be devoid of his soul. 

An empty shell.

They were lucky with Jason, who’s life was fortunate enough to defy the odds and eventually regained both his sanity, and his soul.

Though she still had her doubts over the sanity part, it was a process she refused to put her father through.

She refused to see him in such a condition, an empty shell. A shadow version of her father which would highly pale in comparison to the great man her father truly was.

The best they could do at the moment was to come to terms with the acceptance of their leader’s death and find a way to move on.

“I failed.” The words that escaped Damian with a tone of defeat mixed into his words.

“We can’t think about that now, we have to move.” She grabbed onto his arm and pulled him as she walked out.

“Where are we going?” He asked, but showed no resistance to his mother’s pull.

“To meet your father.” 

– – –

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep