Bruce dropped down from the pole that stretched between the tops of two pillars. At the start of his nighttime crusade, he had had this room built especially for the purpose of strengthening himself. During these three days allotted him before the fight, he intended to prepare his muscles for the fight of his life.
Bruce had heard tales of Hercules, and he knew of the hero's great strength. But he also knew his own strength. He had years of experience and strategy under his belt, and he also had something to fight for.
He took a drink of water from the pitcher that stood on a nearby table, and was about to begin another round of pull-ups, when Alfred poked his head in. "My apologies for the intrusion, Master Bruce, but you have a visitor."
"Really? Who?" Bruce asked.
"He tells me that he's related to your Goddess friend," said Alfred.
Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Well, send him in, then."
Alfred did as he was told, and a few moments later, the God who had greeted Apollo at the meeting entered the room. He looked around, sizing up the equipment that filled the empty space.
"May I ask who-" started Bruce, but the God held up a hand.
"Mars. The God of war. I see you've been training for the fight. That would be a good idea, if it weren't useless." Bruce started to object, but Mars cut him off. "You may think that, by having fought men before, you're prepared to fight Hercules. I'm here to tell you that you will fail, unless you accept my help."
Bruce waited a moment to make sure that Mars had finished, and then said, "Why will I fail?"
"Because this is Hercules. Haven't you heard the stories? He has defeated many a monster, and he holds the favor of Jupiter. That's why I'm here to help."
"Why would you help me?"
Mars smiled at this question. "Because I'm the God of war, of fighting. I'd like to see a good, fair fight, as opposed to another match where Hercules' opponent is unprepared. That's just boring."
Bruce sighed. He was growing tired of this God's brisk way of talking. "Fine. What is your plan?"
"My plan? My plan is to spar with you. Teach you how to use a sword, teach you how to fight. Hercules will use any method available in order to preserve his glory; that's what this is to him, you know. Not a fight for Diana's honor, a fight to retain his status. Now, enough talk. Let's start."
~Later~
Over the next three days, Bruce and Mars sparred long and hard. Bruce longed to sleep, to rest, to tend to bruises and cuts, but he did not. He knew that he needed as much time as possible to train.
Mars was a brutal teacher, but Bruce had had teachers like him before. He was familiar with the God's training tactics. During one sparring session with swords, Mars sliced Bruce across the back of his right forearm. "I could have taken off your hand," snarled the God. "You need to pay attention!"
In response, Bruce took a deep breath, and stepped closer to the God, jabbing with his sword, forcing the God to parry. Never stop, never take a break, was Bruce's one thought. The days passed, and when the time came for Apollo to take Bruce back to Mount Olympus, Mars clapped Bruce on the shoulder, and said, "Give him a good fight." Bruce only nodded once. Mars then disappeared in a shower of red sparks.
"Where is the cape I gave you?" Apollo asked Bruce after entering the house in human form.
"Here it is, Master Apollo," said Alfred, entering the room. He held the cape in his arms. Having spent the last few days apart from its heavenly owner, the cape was no longer a rich purple, but a deep black.
"Thank you Alfred," said Apollo, dipping his head toward the old man. Alfred gave the cape to Bruce, and Bruce swung it over his shoulders. "Ready?" Apollo asked.
Bruce nodded. "I am." He picked up one of the few swords he had in his personal armory, fastened the sheath around his waist, and took Apollo's offered arm.
"Goodbye Master Bruce, and good luck," Alfred said as the God and Bruce walked outside.
"Goodbye Alfred," responded Bruce. "And thank you for everything."