"This kind of chained regional magic structure is indeed most effective for concealment, simulation, and stealth," Hera said casually as she peeled a grape between her fingers.
"But when facing direct attack, the energy converges at the impact point, creating strain that stabilizes Paradise Island overall, but also exposes vulnerabilities elsewhere."
"In the last nuclear blast, just from the exterior energy flow, you could already see the convergence causing weakness in other sectors."
"If you couldn't even see that, then there's no point in the Master recruiting you."
"With your flesh, I could still create new Amazon warriors."
"You…"
Smack!
Bardi raised his hand and slapped Hera's backside through her tight skirt.
Hera reflexively tensed her hips, then lazily leaned back into Bardi, squinting her eyes with a flushed expression and a pleased smile. She said nothing further.
"Quiet. Watch the show," Bardi said coldly, halting Hera's provocation.
He truly intended to bring the Amazon tribe under his command. They were elite warriors born with divine strength, naturally attuned to magic—an incredibly compatible energy system. Their bodies alone were valuable research material.
Whether for flesh-and-blood experimentation, crafting magical artifacts, or acting as frontline warriors, the Amazons would be a powerful asset.
Bardi could not rely entirely on his Kryptonian Legion. Kryptonite, magic, and red sun radiation were glaring weaknesses. Sooner or later, such vulnerabilities would be exploited. For the Bardi Legion to be sustainable, he needed diversified strength.
Antiope and the others subtly changed expression. They hadn't realized any such detail. They were pure physical warriors who used magic to augment bodily power.
On Paradise Island, most Amazons were like this—a kind of physical-magic hybrid warrior, much like Bardi himself. There were very few who used elemental or abstract magic abilities. Those who did were reclusive researchers, rarely seen beyond the towers where they studied spells, crafted weapons, and produced magical equipment.
So when Hera pointed out the flow weakness, none of them had noticed it. The protective field had been visualized for the first time during the blast, and their attention had been on the explosion, not the magical fluctuations.
Artemis opened her mouth to rebuke Hera, but her eyes were immediately drawn back to the projection.
Two more nuclear warheads blazed across the sky, red and white flames streaking over the Atlantic Ocean, leaving long sonic booms behind them. They flew in a pincer formation, each veering toward opposite sides of Paradise Island.
Antiope's heart, already shaken by Hera's earlier assessment, clenched. Her eyes locked onto the screen as the weapons drew closer.
The 700,000-ton warhead struck first, targeting the west side of the island.
The magical shield shimmered to life again, rippling like water. Energy concentrated around the impact point, turning that zone a dark blue while the rest of the barrier remained light blue, like a water curtain.
The auto-balancing protection—just as Hera described—redirected energy from other areas to fortify the targeted point.
Antiope's face paled. The magic shield's reactive behavior was exactly as Hera said. It diverted energy from other sectors to fortify one side, leaving weaknesses exposed.
Then the warhead detonated.
A vast explosion erupted. Fire bloomed. Ocean water was blown away, exposing the seabed as a massive tsunami formed.
Paradise Island shook violently. More intensely than the first blast.
Buildings trembled, older structures cracked, stone dust fell, and a few began to collapse. The screen showed the tremors clearly, even without sound. Vibrations ran through the island. The damage was unmistakable.
The dark blue zone of the barrier began to fade to light blue, revealing the cost of sustaining such an immense defense.
"Stop!" Antiope shouted, eyes wide in panic. It was clear now, beyond denial. Paradise Island could not withstand the next blast. It would be destroyed.
Artemis's expression twisted in disbelief. That the divine shield erected by Zeus could be weakened by mortal weapons—it was unimaginable.
Man… can challenge the gods!
Phillipus, the ever-steady general, was frozen in silence, stunned by what she witnessed.
"Too late," Bardi said coldly, his gaze cutting into them like a blade. A smirk played at the corner of his lips.
He loathed people who only understood reality after it was too late.
Whether it was The Flash, Batman, Hal, or any other so-called superhero, they all refused to listen until death stared them down. Only when their loved ones were screaming, when everything was lost—only then did the pain and despair hit them.
Only then did they break.
The gap between the two blasts was only a few seconds.
The shield was still straining to absorb the 700,000-ton blast when the 3-million-ton warhead arrived from the east, piercing the weakened zone like a knife through fabric.
The world went white.
Even those watching through a screen felt the searing brilliance, a blinding coldness in their souls.
The 3-million-ton warhead detonated.
It annihilated the magical protective field left behind by Zeus in an instant.
The blue energy barrier dissolved into ionized particles, splashing outward like shattered water droplets flung into the sky. Only Bardi, with his super vision, could see the shield's collapse in such vivid detail.
At the moment the shield broke, a fifth of the island was immediately engulfed by the fireball.
A massive shockwave followed, tearing apart ancient buildings and forests. Amazons, caught off-guard, were flung into the air. Screams rose. Hundreds were swept away in black smoke and searing flames.
(To be continued.)