Avery's Wrath (Part 5)

Avery's thoughts stalled momentarily, but his expression was unreadable as he replied evenly, "No. Why? Is there something I should know about?"

There was a flicker of anticipation in Avery's mind, unsure if he wanted Batman to guess his secrets or remain oblivious.

"No," Batman replied quietly. "I'm just concerned the Court of Owls might try to strike Wayne Manor again, maybe sending even more Talons. But with you here, I'm not too worried. Still, stay inside for now."

A fleeting sense of disappointment passed through Avery, too quickly for him to register. With a slight glint in his eye, he replied with a playful smile, "Well, let them try. It'll be faster to catch them all at once than hunting them down one by one."

After all, the last attack happened when he wasn't home. If the Talons dared to come again, he was certain he could stop them before they even reached the manor's door.

Batman gave a small, expressionless nod at Avery's unsettling smile before brushing past him into the Batcave, where he began strategizing his next steps to confront the Court of Owls.

Earlier, he had stumbled upon his great-grandfather's corpse, which led him through Gotham's sewer systems to one of the Court of Owls' hidden underground lairs. It seemed the connection between this shadowy organization and the Wayne family ran far deeper than he had imagined.

Night fell.

It was a rare evening with a perfectly clear sky and a full moon casting its glow over Gotham. The recent chaos had set the city on edge, causing most criminals to lay low, unwilling to tempt the wrath of an increasingly volatile Batman. But the Court of Owls—the masterminds behind Gotham's latest troubles—had no such reservations. Tonight, they gathered, an unusual occurrence, to devise their strategy for handling Batman. This was, after all, a group so concealed that even Batman had once dismissed it as urban legend; meetings like these were rare indeed.

In a dimly lit room, its walls carved with owl motifs, several individuals in white masks sat around a long table, voices raised as they discussed their options. The scene had an almost comical air, like merchants haggling, though they themselves saw it as a symbolic display of their authority over Gotham—a city they believed pulsed to the rhythms they set.

"What strategy? We simply eliminate those officials who are supporting the reforms," one member said impatiently. "Once they're dead, any successors will have to think twice if they value their own lives."

The others pondered this. But before anyone could agree or dissent, a new voice—cold, aristocratic, and unfamiliar—rang out from the shadows.

"I agree; that plan has merit."

In a way, Avery was quite like Batman. One enjoyed vanishing without a trace, while the other delighted in appearing out of nowhere, unsettling all in his presence. But unlike Batman, Avery's appearance was not merely stealth; it was calculated, an equalizing shock to all who saw him.

The sudden voice startled everyone around the table. The Talons appeared instantly, searching the room in vain for the intruder. Then, a door near the far end of the room slowly swung open, and finally, they saw him.

A figure in a hooded white robe embroidered with gold, his long white hair framing an aristocratic face with violet eyes, watched them with a glacial, almost angelic calm that belied the lethal intent in his gaze.

"I think hanging your bodies in Gotham's bridge would be an excellent way to 'appease' the remaining reform supporters," he said, a small, chilling smile curling at the edge of his lips. He gave a light, disdainful laugh and added, "It's a brilliant plan, don't you think so? Surely you all will support it, right?"

Support it with your lives, perhaps?

"Kill him!"

The man seated at the head of the long table, wearing a white mask, shouted loudly. Almost at the very moment he issued the command, countless Talons lunged from all directions, their razor-sharp claws encircling Avery in an instant.

Although Avery had come dangerously close to being caught by Batman during his last encounter, which revealed certain vulnerabilities of a wizard in direct confrontation, the truth was that it had been little more than a carefully crafted illusion. If Avery had been serious about escaping, there were plenty of ways for him to do so—without resorting to desperate measures.

For instance, he could easily have used his mastery of creating illusions to subtly mislead Batman. Even with Batman's formidable willpower, the illusion would only need to hold for a brief moment—long enough for Batman to believe he had captured Avery, while in reality, the wizard would have already slipped away unnoticed. Quick and effective.

Thus, even though the Talons were fast, strong, and far more physically capable than a "frail" wizard like Avery, he could easily keep them from getting close. Against opponents who had no understanding of magic, this was almost laughably simple.

As a battle-hardened wizard, Avery understood better than anyone how to play to his strengths while avoiding his weaknesses. His supposed disadvantage against Batman was little more than a playful indulgence—perhaps even a form of teasing, a testament to his soft spot for his beloved adversary.

So, as the Talons rushed toward the lone figure standing there, they were stunned to find that, in the blink of an eye, the intruder's figure had vanished without a trace. No matter how hard they searched, they couldn't find even the faintest sign of their target.

Meanwhile, the members of the Court of Owls seated at the head of the room stared in disbelief. Their elite Talons had surged toward the intruder with such ferocity, only to appear as blind as bats, aimlessly looking around as though the laughing man right before them was thin air. The distance between them was less than a meter! Their fury and astonishment were beyond words.