Channeling magic into his bow, Gwyndolin simultaneously released five arrows aimed at the legs of the musclebound criminals. He couldn't help but be surprised as the mortals continued to charge him in complete disregard for their pain or injuries.

If Gwyndolin were still in his old world he would simply bury arrows into their skulls, but such behavior was not acceptable in this world's society. He could also lead them out onto the street and take advantage of his greater maneuverability, but doing so would risk the lives of civilians, which was contrary to superhero behavior.

Decision made, Gwyndolin put away his bow and summoned his Catalyst, he didn't have many non-lethal sorceries, but he did have one.

The moment he began channeling his magic, Gwyndolin immediately sent a serpent to intercept each of the charging criminals.

To his slight surprise, they slowed as they collided with his serpents and fangs buried into their flesh, but they still did not stop. Even his venom did not seem to have any appreciable effect on them.

What manner of alchemy was able to so easily grant mortals such power?

Seeing that the warriors were almost upon him, Gwyndolin decided to switch tactics and disable two warriors with three serpents each and deal with the remainder himself.

As Gwyndolin finished casting, a blue orb exited the end of his Catalyst, aimed at the rearmost warrior. As his shockwave spell struck true, the criminal was knocked off his feet and sent flying across the room.

Simultaneously, Gwyndolin cast a hidden weapon spell to hide his Catalyst from view.

Half of Gwyndolin's serpents entwined the closest criminal, pulling him onto the ground and denied him the ability to move his limbs. Gwyndolin did the same to the next closest criminal and moved forward while pulling his two captives away from their allies' aid.

"You fucking freak!"

One of the two remaining mortals was now close enough that they could attempt to strike him with crazed fury in his eyes.

Casting an illusion over himself, Gwyndolin directed his illusion to swing its Catalyst towards the mad warrior's head. The mortal attempted to grab the illusory Catalyst—likely in an attempt to rip it out of Gwyndolin's hand—which meant he was surprised when the true strike struck low.

He felt little sympathy for the mortal as he fell onto the floor, screaming and crying while covering his ruined crotch. It seemed that their resistance to pain had limits.

Unfortunately, this gave the last warrior who had not been interrupted from his charge enough time to tackle Gwyndolin and then strike him with superhuman strength.

The mortal's fury faded for a moment as he froze and stared at Gwyndolin, dumbfounded that his strength had only been enough to knock back his enemy a few inches.

Gwyndolin was also surprised by the strength of his enemy. The strike had not been the strongest he had experienced, but the mortal possessed strength higher than should be naturally possible.

However, even if Gwyndolin was physically feeble in comparison to his family, in comparison to this mortal he still possessed superior strength.

Lunging forward, Gwyndolin grabbed the mortal by the wrist and squeezed until he could feel bones grinding. The warrior grit his teeth, but the pain wasn't enough to stop him from repeatedly striking Gwyndolin to little effect.

He simply turned his head with the punches and swung his Catalyst towards the mortal's chest; he could feel ribs break, but the mortal again ignored the pain.

Gwyndolin was just about to continue bludgeoning the mortal into submission when a chair shattered across his head, interrupting him.

He turned to find the source of the thrown furniture and saw the mortal he had sent flying with shockwave earlier charging him.

Gwyndolin was quickly growing annoyed. By now he had concluded that these mortals lacked the power to seriously threaten him, but he was finding it difficult to non-lethally incapacitate them. The two mortals he had trapped in his coils were still struggling and the ones who were free seemed intent to ignore their wounds.

As the charging warrior neared, Gwyndolin lifted the mortal in his grasp off of the ground and threw him into his approaching ally. He then cast a shockwave that sent the two of them flying further across the room.

Gwyndolin had refrained from using his more damaging spells out of fear of killing his enemies, but from what he had seen these enhanced mortals were durable enough to survive.

Channeling magic into his Catalyst, Gwyndolin fired multiple orbs of homing soul mass at the criminals.

As the two warriors were beginning to stand, the spell struck true and an orb slammed into their guts, sending them both flying into a wall.

Another orb collided with the arrows still buried into their legs, finally eliciting pained screams and the last struck them in the head, silencing them.

Gwyndolin was relieved to see that the enhanced mortals were still alive. If they had died he would have had more difficulties integrating into this world as a superhero and David would have probably been upset.

Gwyndolin turned his attention to the remaining mortals.

The one who had been rolling around in his own blood on the floor had finally fainted from pain and the two in his coils were beginning to slow their struggles. He wasn't quite certain if this was a result of the large amount of venom he had injected into them or if the alchemy they were relying on had begun to fade.

"Is the fight over? Is everything okay?"

Gwyndolin's thoughts were interrupted by David's concerned voice.

"Yes. I am well. Thou need not worry."

After spending a few moments placating David and instructing him to direct the authorities to his location, Gwyndolin bent down to collect a vial of Venom.

The Escabedo criminal had informed him that they acquired the substance from Santa Prisca. This was something he would need to investigate later.

"By the way, you're starting to show up on social media. People saw you when you teleported to Coral Gables and started taking pictures. I think you'll have lots of fans soon!"

These "fans" were not anything particularly new to Gwyndolin. Towards his death, his church had been fairly popular so he was well accustomed to having worshippers.

Gwyndolin quickly looted the safe house of all its money—a few more stacks of hundred-dollar bills—and teleported back to his base after confirming there was nothing of interest left.

David immediately set aside his laptop, ran up to Gwyndolin, and began searching him for injuries. The boy sighed in relief after finding none.

"You're alright. That's good!"

Gwyndolin couldn't resist ruffling the child's hair. Yorshka had always hated when he had done that, but David didn't seem to mind.

"Mine enemies still lack the strength to threaten me. I thank thee for thine assistance. 'Twas most helpful."

David's bright smile beamed up at him and Gwyndolin found himself returning it.

Together the two of them sorted through the remaining loot and began counting the money they had stolen. In total, they had acquired around 100,000 dollars, Gwyndolin had expected more from such a large gang, but David informed him most of their wealth would be stored in a bank.

Banks were a strange concept. Most people he had known would not have trusted their wealth with a third party.

This wealth would be reserved for helping Gwyndolin gain identification documents so he could begin participating in this society in greater ways. He would also need to reserve some money to purchase the services of an expert capable of gathering information for the devices he had stolen.

Gwyndolin did not have an easy way to find such a person or acquiring such documents and neither did David, so this would not be a simple task. Still, it may be a simple thing to accomplish if he had more allies.

"David, hast thou arranged for mine audience with thine grandfather?"

Gwyndolin's question interrupted David while he was staring and giggling at the pile of money.

"Huh? Oh… uh, no. I forgot about that..."

"Please speak with thine guardian tonight, David. I shall speak with him tomorrow."

David nodded his acknowledgment but didn't seem particularly excited. He must believe that his grandfather would deny David permission to learn magic from Gwyndolin. His worries were not unwarranted, Gwyndolin found it unlikely the elder sorcerer would agree to let his ward be trained by somebody he did not know; trust would need to be built first.

However, Gwyndolin was patient, and even if David's grandfather denied him it would be a good lesson for David. Magic was dangerous and patience could be the difference between life and death for a sorcerer.

Gwyndolin spent the next hour indulging David in his desire to hear about his fights before sending the child home.

Now alone, Gwyndolin closed his eyes and allowed himself to reflect on the day.

He had been correct that neither organization had been prepared to challenge him; the Venom had been a surprise but was still not a threat to him. However, now that Gwyndolin had attacked every criminal dwelling that he had knowledge of, the criminals would begin leveraging greater resources to dispose of him.

The response from the Escabedo Cartel in particular was likely to be very significant now that they were aware Venom was not enough to handle him.

Gwyndolin resolved to act with a little more caution before the response of his enemies made itself apparent.

[hr]

Sargon the Sorcerer walked into his home and relaxed as his home's wards spilled over him—informing him that there were no intruders in his house. A long life of active participation in the magical community and occasional superheroics had fostered a healthy paranoia.

He could tell that David was not home, but that was nothing new so he was not particularly concerned. It helped that he could sense his grandson was unharmed through his connection to Ruby of Life.

Slowly, Sargon the Sorcerer removed the turban which contained his own fragment of the Ruby and allowed his tension to fade.

There were too many matters he needed to handle nowadays, and he found himself being Sargon far more than he found himself being John Sargent. Superheroes of both the mundane and magical variety were not exactly known for having a healthy work-life balance.

This week his mentor had sent him to investigate a sentient street that enjoyed teleporting across the country and protecting people. It called itself Danny the Street and was quite insistent about its nonbinary gender.

After confirming that Danny was not a malicious entity, John had immediately been called to assist with an attack in Georgia by the Cult of the Blood Red Moon. He hated dealing with vampires because that meant dealing with vampire hunters who were nearly as troublesome.

John wanted as little to do with the Order of Van Helsings as possible. If the bloodsuckers and the hunters were going to fight, the least they could do was avoid the mundane folk while doing so.

Maybe he should take a vacation. His mentor could have fun trying to convince that arrogant bastard Zatara to leave Shadowcrest to fight vampires and talk to sentient streets.

He was interrupted from his musings as the wards informed him of David's arrival.

Sometimes John wondered what his grandson was doing at night, but the few times he had checked on the child he had just been wandering the city aimlessly. That would be quite dangerous for a normal child, but David's fraction of the Ruby of Life would be more than enough to protect him from most threats.

Surprisingly, he could sense that David was heading straight for his room. Usually, the child went straight to bed after coming home.

He watched as his grandson poked his head into the room and looked around before startling as he noticed John already looking at him.

"Hey, Grandpa. How are you?"

John could already tell the boy wanted something. Their relationship was not… familial enough for small talk. He hadn't done a good job of being in his grandson's life after his son's death and his subsequent decision not to train David.

"I'm well, David. And you?"

"I'm okay," said David, trailing off awkwardly. A moment later, he seemed to gather his courage and asked the question he had come to ask. "You'll be home tomorrow, right? Can I bring a friend over?"

John found himself surprised. David had never had a friend he wished to bring home before. It made sense that John would need to be home to let him through the wards. He found himself a little excited for the next day. Perhaps this would be an opportunity for John to meet his grandson's friends and be more involved in his life.

"That sounds lovely, David," said John, smiling gently. "I don't have anything important to do tomorrow, so your friend can come and visit."

David smiled at him shyly. "Alright. Thanks, grandpa!"

After expressing his gratitude, David quickly scampered off to his room.

John could still feel himself smiling. It would be nice to have a simple and relaxing day without having to confront any supernatural entities.

As John made his way to the kitchen to make himself something to eat, he sensed something wrong and looked into his living room.

John felt like something was missing, but he wasn't able to figure out what it was.

After a few moments, he shrugged and made his way back to the kitchen. If he couldn't figure it out then it probably wasn't important.