Sorcerer in DC

I ducked underneath Superboy's haymaker, popping him in the jaw to considerable effect and pressed my advantage with a straight to his face, but he dodged, snatching my hand and twisting me off my feet with his ridiculous strength. My legs wrapped around his neck and arm as I swung around and twisted, locking him into an arm bar I knew I couldn't hold for long.

I squeezed down on his windpipe and twisted his hand until he let go of mine, then darted back, putting dozens of feet between us with a single, almost soundless step.

"You're quicker," I commented. "Much quicker."

Superboy rubbed his jaw. "And you hit like a hundred-pound plate."

I grinned, flexing my biceps. "Have been working out."

That was an understatement. I'd been doping, training, pushing as much weight as I could physically manage, pounding out hours-long sprinting, swimming, weightlifting, and sparring sessions since I arrived.

The team could barely keep up. Aqualad had to work with Kid-Flash if he hoped to stand a chance, while Superboy was… well, Superboy.

He was the clone of Superman through and through. Enhanced speed and reflexes, monstrous strength, infrared sight, microscopic vision, and super-hearing.

Though he wasn't quite Superman, he was the closest person to one in our age range—except for me, obviously.

Whatever they did to him in the lab, it was still an ongoing process. He was beating personal records every week, and even I couldn't keep up, even with my recent upgrades, which were ridiculous, mind you.

The move from Level 6 Cursed Energy manipulation to Level 7 was like heaven and earth. The cost of CE skills went down, my innate technique was nearly twice as durable, and my energy density and concentration skyrocketed.

People could actually sense it now when I used Cursed Energy. It was more an impression or sense of foreboding than any actual physical manifestation, but impressive nonetheless.

Curse Energy Reinforcement, however, was where most of my newfound confidence stemmed from.

That was the biggest jump by far.

Cursed Energy Reinforcement:

Current Boost: 300%

Passive Boost: 100%

Drain: 1.5 CE/s

Overcharge: Temporarily increase reinforcement to specific body parts by drawing cursed energy from others, leaving them vulnerable.

Current Boost: +150%

Effect: -70% global reinforcement effectiveness

Cost: 10 CE per Overcharge

At max enhancement, I'd be punching, moving, dodging, and be as durable as eight world-class athletes combined. Add the various effectiveness bonuses from my skills, and I came close to Superboy in speed and durability with Inverse on, but strength-wise, I wasn't in the same ballpark. Which was why I decided to double down on my strengths.

My sorcery and skills.

Recently, I'd been obsessed with integrating Overdrive into combat more actively. I could already punch really hard and move really fast, but now that I had basic reinforcement covered with Cursed Energy Reinforcement, I wondered if there was any way to improve my striking and sword-drawing speed even more.

I'd been inspired after watching a cheesy American-made Japanese show—Afro-Samurai. Most techniques used were impractical, and Robin and Artemis said as much, but I wondered about Iaijutsu.

I'd seen Cursed Spirits use Energy to project energy blades and augment their roars. The unnamed summoner sorcerer I fought even tried to use it as a battering ram.

Who's to say, with my Cursed Energy control level, I couldn't achieve the same? It'd be inefficient to start, but if I could get a dedicated skill… that'd be something else entirely.

With a hand outstretched, I summoned a fresh katana. It took some work, but I managed to get a blacksmith on retainer. I'd had him make me twenty of these, a few longswords, throwing knives, short swords, daggers, maces, a shield, and heavy-duty body armor.

It cost me a fortune, and I had to disappear to retrieve it all. But the transaction was untraceable, my face covered, and paid in cash.

If I was going to be whacked around, I'd at least be well equipped.

The katanas I settled on were a bit longer, thicker, sharper, and heavier.

"You going to train your anime move now?" Superboy asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"It's not an anime move," I protested, a bit too loudly. "It will have practical applications in combat… you'll see."

"Knowing you, I don't doubt it," he said.

My brows knit in confusion. "Then why are you giving me such a hard time?"

"Why wouldn't I? We're friends, aren't we?"

"Friends?" The word rolled on my tongue. It'd been a while since I'd had one of those. Artemis was still giving me the cold shoulder, no doubt expecting an apology for the binding vow and not telling her about being a sorcerer.

Yet, I couldn't bring myself to do that. I preferred her at arm's length for now.

"I suppose we are," I said, turning my back to him. "If you need me, I'll be at the combat range."

"And I'll be pumping iron," Superboy said.

The open combat range was at the bottom of the Young Justice League's new base. It was enormous, lined with some of the most durable materials on earth, and all manner of weapons, equipment, and combat mannequins powerful enough to take hits from juggernauts like Superman.

It was strong enough for somebody like me—which was what made me somewhat wary of this place. Lock the entrance, and suddenly I was trapped. With my metabolism and food stores, I'd give myself a month at most before things got dicey.

I shook my head.

No need for doomsday scenarios just yet. I was here to practice a sword move, so that's what I'd do.

I loaded up a few steel mannequins in the far corner of the room and raced across from them, giving me room for a running start.

Funneling Cursed Energy into my leg, I twitched slightly, ramping up until I reached the new limits of Overcharge before rocketing forward. The air rattled on takeoff. Five swift steps, and I was already at my target swinging. Inverse: Cloak wrapped around the blade just before impact.

Metal screeched, groaned, and whined before ultimately breaking. I twisted off the slash, digging my heel into the ground and burning through my boots as I came to a lurching stop.

I looked up, not exactly expecting a clean cut, but the sight surprised me nonetheless. It was like I'd taken a bat to it. The metal warped around the impact site, and the head—my target—looked like it'd been sawn off.

I didn't know if it was because of the technique extension or my speed, strength, or something else entirely, but I was determined to find out before working on the technique I envisioned.

Time folded in on itself as I practiced obsessively.

I went through the mannequins again and again, using variations of the same move. Inverse: Cloak wasn't mandatory but highly recommended if I wanted to maintain the edge on my blade. Slicing through metal was marginally easier with Cursed Energy flowing through it.

Layering both didn't seem to have a multiplicative effect on my slicing weapon, though it did on my knuckles if I fed it a trickle of Cursed Energy, enough to fuel the enchantment on it.

It was dark out when I finally decided to try the Iai-technique I envisioned. Once again, I found myself standing across the sparring area, this time with Cursed Energy focused around my blade and sheath. I maintained the standard Cloak as I focused.

Energy folded in on itself, compressing and thickening until—

BOOM.

The blade and sheath exploded, bathing me in spark and shrapnel. Inverse flickered on reflexively.

Okay. So ease off the compression. I did, and unsheathed, assuming the Iai stance. The blade practically jerked out of its sheath when I drew it, blurring so fast I struggled to hold onto it.

I grinned, the speed easily twice my typical draw speed, but it wasn't quite enough. It was also prohibitively expensive. Nearly 50 CE for a single draw. Costs like that mounted easily in the heat of battle.

This was a start, but I was far from satisfied. I went again, lowering the volume again and again. It took figuring out the sweet spot—where the blade wouldn't take too much damage from a draw while still being fast enough to surprise who I wanted to kill.

40 CE exactly.

It was higher than I hoped, and I still didn't get the skill for it, but it was a start. I was about to start practicing the draws in motion when my wristwatch went off.

I had a meeting in Gotham. Selina Kyle was expecting me—as was Shady.

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