Reincarnation In Smallville

Chapter 54: Intrigues of War [54]



War Council

Sir Patrick sat around a large table with generals and high-ranking officers. They were gathered to discuss war strategies, but to the surprise of some, Sir Patrick decided to raise the question of an armistice.

"We need to consider an armistice. Continuing to fight at this pace will only bring more destruction and suffering with no end in sight," he declared, his voice firm yet serene.

One of the officers, frowning, immediately responded.

"Your plan is foolish and reckless, Sir Patrick. Our goal here is to win the war, not negotiate. They've killed too many of our men. We need to wipe them out!"

Another officer nodded, his face hardened by the toll of battle. "We're here to debate how to win the war, not to talk about an armistice. There's no room for negotiations anymore. We need to push until final victory."

While most of the officers vocally opposed him, Sir Patrick remained impassive. His expression showed slight disappointment, as though he had expected more rationality from his colleagues. But inwardly, he was satisfied. He had proposed the armistice knowing it would be rejected. The officers' responses only confirmed what he expected:

The burning desire to continue fighting without considering the long-term consequences. It was exactly the reaction he needed.

...

Hotel Room

Diana looked around the room with curiosity. Despite her urgency to face Ares and end the war, the new environment caught her attention. The elegant decor, the refined details, and the hotel's luxury were entirely different from anything she had ever seen.

Clark smiled, noticing the curious expression on Diana's face. He approached her and, with a gentle gesture, pointed to the bathroom.

"Come, let me show you something you might like."

Diana followed Clark into the bathroom, where he demonstrated how the bathtub worked. The hot water gushed out, creating steam, and Clark showed her how to adjust the temperature.

"This is for you to relax a little, Diana. I know we're not used to this kind of comfort, but you deserve it."

Diana nodded, still curious, and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She allowed herself to relax as she settled into the hot bath. The sensation of the warm water against her skin was incredible, and she closed her eyes, savoring the rare moment of calm.

While Diana was in the bathroom, Clark used the time to call room service. He accepted the day's recommendation, hoping the meal would be nutritious and delicious.

Clark walked to the window, gazing at London's gray landscape. His thoughts turned to the war, and he frowned as he pondered what lay ahead.

'Since I'm here in this era, I'll make sure a second world war doesn't happen. At least not for the same reasons. If I kill the right people and hypnotize others, I can end future conflicts.'

Jor-El's voice manifested in his mind, serene and questioning.

[That will only happen if you stay in this world and prevent it personally. Even if you kill those you're thinking about, the war will happen one way or another.]

Clark sighed deeply. Jor-El's words weighed on him, and he knew the artificial intelligence was right. Still, he couldn't help but try. He needed to believe he could make a difference, even if it was small.

Soon, room service arrived. Clark opened the door and received the meal, thanking the attendant. The table was set with hot dishes, and a delicious aroma filled the room.

"Diana, dinner is ready," Clark called, hoping she could enjoy a moment of rest.

Diana emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a hotel robe, and approached the table. The dinner was impeccable, and she smiled at Clark in gratitude. They sat down to eat, enjoying the tranquility of the moment.

As they ate, Clark noticed how at ease Diana seemed. A thought struck him, and with a mischievous smile, he asked:

"Diana, what are you wearing under that robe?"

Diana looked at him, a bit surprised by the question. "Nothing. I didn't think it was necessary."

Clark tried to hide his surprise, but his mind wandered to thoughts he quickly pushed aside. Finally, he cleared his throat and said:

"I'll take a bath now, Diana. Feel free to relax."

Diana watched Clark as he walked toward the bathroom, noticing the enigmatic smile he wore. She didn't understand the reason for the smile but couldn't help finding Clark's behavior curious. As he closed the bathroom door, she made herself more comfortable in the chair, trying to figure out what could have been so amusing.

...

After finishing dinner, Clark cleared his throat, his expression becoming serious. "Diana, we need to talk about what I'll do next."

Diana frowned, curious. "What do you mean, Clark?"

Clark hesitated for a moment, then continued:

"I have a suspicion about Ares. I believe he might be disguised among men. There's a man, Sir Patrick, who could be Ares. I need to investigate to be sure."

Diana immediately stood up, her expression determined. "I'm a warrior. I must go with you to end this conflict."

Clark shook his head, keeping his tone firm. "I only have a suspicion, Diana. I need to confirm it, and where I'm going is no place for a warrior but for a spy."

Diana stared at him, surprised and slightly hurt. She felt as if Clark was excluding her from the war, as though she wasn't part of the fight they were waging together.

Clark noticed Diana's expression and sighed.

"Don't look at me like that, Diana. I'm serious. It would be problematic to take you with me. But if my suspicions are confirmed, I'll come back to bring you to him. Despite my power, I don't want to face a god alone."

Diana narrowed her eyes, her dissatisfaction still evident. "I hope you keep your word. Only the God Killer can kill a god." She held up the sword, gripping it firmly.

Clark observed the sword and had an idea.

"True strength often lies not in the weapon, Diana, but in its wielder. You shouldn't rely solely on the sword but on your own strength. The sword is powerful, but it's your will, courage, and determination that will give us victory. Trust in yourself, not just the weapon you carry."

Diana smiled faintly, inspired by Clark's words. She knew he was right. Her true strength didn't come just from the sword but from who she was as a warrior.

Clark smiled, satisfied with Diana's determination. He wanted that when she discovered she was the true God Killer, his face would be the one she remembered. Clark knew that by supporting Diana and helping her believe in herself, he was planting a seed that would blossom at the right time.

"That's how it should be. Tomorrow, we'll begin the next step."

...

Laboratory

Dr. Maru nervously tinkered with vials and test tubes as she worked with chemicals. Her eyes were fixed on the substances before her, but her hands trembled slightly. She was clearly tense, and the reason was obvious:

The journal containing notes on the poisonous gas had been stolen, and without it, she was struggling to advance her research.

The laboratory door suddenly creaked open.

Clang!

General Ludendorff entered the room, his piercing gaze scanning the laboratory.

"How's the gas production coming along?" he asked bluntly.

Dr. Maru sighed, visibly frustrated. "Without my notes, it's nearly impossible to replicate the formula. I'm trying, but it's terrible without the exact details."

General Ludendorff scoffed, impatient. "I don't care about the notes. You did it once; you should be able to do it again."

Those curt words lit a spark within Dr. Maru. Her nervousness began to fade, replaced by a determined expression. She raised her head and, with a faint smile, said:

"Yes, General. I'll do it for you."

Dr. Maru stood up and grabbed a glass vial from a nearby shelf. She approached the General with determination, holding the vial firmly. Without hesitation, she shattered the vial near the General's nose.

Crash!

The General inhaled the gas escaping from the vial, his face turning pale and uncomfortable. For a moment, he staggered, but then, after a minute, he recovered, straightened up, and flashed a sinister smile.

"Excellent," he said, a dark gleam in his eyes.

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