DC: The Man And The Hood

Chapter 34: Camping with the Demon’s Head.

The crisp air bit at my skin as I trudged through the dense woods, the weight of the camping backpack digging into my shoulders. It had been over ninety minutes since we left the compound, and the old man—Ra’s al Ghul, the Demon’s Head himself—hadn’t said a word since we started this little nature hike. Typical. The guy loved his dramatic silences almost as much as he loved hearing himself talk. 

The woods were alive with the sounds of nature—rustling leaves, chirping birds, the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. It was almost peaceful, if you ignored the fact that I was following a centuries-old megalomaniac into the middle of nowhere with no idea what he had planned. 

The snow had stopped falling, thank God, but the ground was still a mess of slush and mud. My boots were caked with it, and my jeans were soaked up to the knees. 

Ra’s moved ahead of me with that infuriating grace of his, his hands clasped behind his back like he was out for a leisurely stroll. Meanwhile, I was sweating under the weight of the backpack, my breath coming out in visible puffs in the freezing air. 

We weren’t even dressed for this weather—just our normal clothes. No coats, no gloves, nothing. Because why would Ra’s al Ghul bother with something as mundane as warmth? 

He stopped suddenly, and I nearly ran into him. He stood there, staring ahead like he was contemplating the mysteries of the universe. 

Then, without a word, he turned right, pushing through a thicket of waist-high bushes and towering trees. The canopy above was so dense that barely any sunlight filtered through, casting the area in an eerie, almost oppressive darkness. 

“Great,” I muttered under my breath. “Just the kind of place I’d pick for a picnic. If I were, you know, a serial killer.”

Ra’s didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. He just kept walking, his movements smooth and deliberate, like he was gliding over the uneven terrain. I stumbled after him, cursing under my breath as branches snagged at my clothes and scratched my arms. 

The muffled sound of running water grew louder as we pressed on, and eventually, we emerged into a small clearing. 

Ra’s stopped at the edge of a shallow stream, his gaze fixed on the waterfall that cascaded down a rocky outcrop. 

It was beautiful, in a secluded, untouched kind of way. The water sparkled in the faint sunlight, and the air was filled with the soothing sound of it rushing over the rocks. 

“We’ve arrived,” Ra’s said, breaking the silence at last. His voice was calm, almost serene, like he hadn’t just dragged me through a mile of wilderness without explanation.

I caught up to him, dropping the backpack with a grunt. “Yeah, no kidding. Mind telling me where ‘here’ is exactly? Or is that part of the whole mysterious mentor shtick?”

He turned to me, his expression unreadable. “This is where you will be training for the next three days to a week, depending on how long it takes you to grasp the lessons I will be teaching you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Training? In the middle of nowhere? With no food, no shelter, and probably a million bloodthirsty mosquitoes? Sounds like a blast.”

Ra’s ignored my sarcasm, gesturing for me to follow him again. We walked to a clearing near the riverbank, where he told me to drop the bag. He picked up his sword and a length of rope, then motioned for me to follow him deeper into the woods. 

“What kind of training requires us to be in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere?” I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Is this some kind of survivalist boot camp? Because I’ve heard about the whole ‘eat bugs and drink your own pee’ thing. Not a fan.”

Ra’s didn’t answer. He just kept walking, his silence as infuriating as ever. We stopped in front of a massive tree, its trunk so thick it would’ve taken an axe-wielding man hours to bring it down. 

Ra’s drew his sword in one fluid motion, and before I could even blink, he delivered three precise horizontally patterned strikes. The tree fell with a loud crash, splitting into two large logs. 

I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. “Okay, that was… impressive. But also kind of overkill. You know we are literally surrounded by easily attainable firewood, right?”

He sheathed his sword and handed me the rope. “Use this to pull both of them back, together.”

I took the rope, glaring at him. “Oh, sure. No problem. I’ll just drag a couple of tree trunks through the woods like a pack mule. Why didn’t I think of that?”o my jabs lately, but irritation flickered beneath his calm now.  

Best not to push him further. I obeyed, shutting my eyes—yet even in the dark, I could feel the weight of his glare, sharp with frustration. Yeah… time to behave.

- - -

Through the week, I received quite a number of texts enquiring when I will be updating the chapters on Patreon. 

I've been distracted with personal stuff and have been unable to continuously write additional chapters as often as I'd like to.  

Fortunately, the issue has been rectified, and I am now back. So, I'll be updating all chapters on Patreon this weekend, maybe by Sunday.  

Might even open a new tier, depending on how it goes. We're about to begin an action-packed arc that should make for an enjoyable Sunday read.

Feel free to check out my Patreon page.

Stay tuned, and enjoy your weekend.

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