American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 222 The fledgling eagle leaves the nest, the young lion roams alone. [Bonus Chapter]

The feeling of being suspended in the air is incredible.

It was as if the fulcrum of the entire universe had converged at the tip of one's own will.

After the initial shock, an indescribable ecstasy and desire to explore surged through Clark's body like an electric current.

He carefully tried to focus his mind on the biofield on the right side of his body, imagining the invisible wings tilting slightly downwards while the 'wings' on the left side remained raised.

At first, it swayed a bit, and my body staggered in the air, my cloak flapping loudly as it was caught in the turbulence.

But he quickly adjusted, and the force field began to respond to his intentions more precisely.

He succeeded!

The body began to smoothly draw an arc to the right.

The lights of Smallville below rotated, revealing a completely new perspective.

"very good!"

Blake's encouraging voice came from above, "Now, try to move forward! Imagine you're pushing the air in front of you, not being blocked by it!"

Clark took a deep breath and turned his attention straight ahead.

He was no longer satisfied with merely hovering and slow turning.

He imagined the force field forming a smooth wedge shape in front of him, like the bow of an icebreaker, and then gave him the intention to 'propel' forward!

"Whoosh-!"

The body suddenly accelerated, and the sound of the wind changed from a low growl to a sharp screech!

The oncoming airflow, like a solid wall of water, was easily parted in front of his carefully constructed wedge-shaped force field, whistling past from both sides.

This sense of speed far surpasses the limits of his running on the ground; it's a thrilling sensation of tearing through space!

He felt like he had become a bullet fired from a gun, a shooting star streaking across the night sky!

He flew over the edge of the town, the houses and streets below flying past like miniature models.

He saw the outline of the school's football field, the Daily Planet kiosk, and the weathervane on Lana's roof...

Everything became so small, yet so clear.

"Feel the ascent!"

Blake had flown to his side without him noticing, walking alongside him, his voice still clear in the gale, "Imagine the force field as a raised wing, giving your lower body an upward lift!"

Clark understood immediately.

He slightly adjusted the force field's posture, directing more energy and intention downwards towards his body while maintaining forward momentum.

In an instant, he seemed to be lifted up by an invisible hand, rising straight up towards the brilliant starry sky at an exhilarating angle!
The world beneath my feet receded rapidly, the town lights coalescing into a blurry halo, revealing the vast, dark Kansas plains and the winding river in the distance.

The cold, thin air filled my lungs, yet it brought an ultimate sense of freedom and exhilaration.

He turned, he accelerated, he climbed, he swooped down...

Every movement, initially awkward, quickly became smooth and natural.

He is no longer an Earthling bound by gravity, but one of the rulers of this boundless night sky.

The biofield was no longer a blurry barrier; it became the most sensitive and powerful extension of his body, the perfect interface between his will and the physical world.

He weaved through the clouds, letting the cold moisture brush against his battle suit.

Until it hovers at the highest point, overlooking the vast land sleeping in the darkness.

"How about looking at the ground beneath your feet?"

Blake said softly from the side, "This is the land we've walked on since we were little."

Clark nodded slightly.

He lowered his head and looked down.

The warm glow that once enveloped Smallville has shrunk.

Like fireflies scattered in the wild, embedded in the boundless earth.

Further away, the scattered lights of a few small towns flickered like candles in the wind, so faint that they were almost swallowed up by the vast darkness.

The winding river was just a dim silver thread under the moonlight.

He once thought the cornfields were boundless, but now they had become blurry, featureless patches of color.

The roads, field ridges, and even the outlines of towns that humanity is so proud of.
At this height, all details are lost, and everything merges into a chaotic base.

A profound sense of insignificance permeated his entire being like ice water.

he.
Clark Kent, a boy from a farm in Kansas.

What is this compared to the vast, silent world beneath our feet, operating according to its own ancient rhythm?
Even with this power, one is nothing more than a speck of dust on the scale of this planet.

but.
He saw it.

In that Smallwell halo.

The lights of the Kent farm shone brightly in his eyes.

He could picture Martha wiping the stove in the kitchen, Jonathan smoking his pipe on the porch, and Uncle Locke perhaps whispering with Mr. Ron by the barn.

And in those faint points of light further away.
At Lana's house, on Chloe's windowsill, in Pete's room...

Countless people are living their lives, experiencing their joys and sorrows, their loves and hates, their predicaments and hopes.

Each point of light is a vibrant world, carrying the same weight of life as the farm beneath his feet.

What is insignificant is not life itself, but the individual's perspective when facing the world.

And he was hovering between the two.

Below is a world of shimmering light.

Above us was an endless starry sky.

He felt an invisible 'gravity' from the land below, not a physical rule, but a bond of emotion and responsibility.

Every call for help from Smallwell will be like a signal sent to his 'satellite'.

The world is so vast, and the individual is so insignificant.

But precisely because of this, when a sufficiently powerful force is willing to listen to those faint calls and protect those seemingly insignificant lights, that force itself transcends the meaning of the lives of insignificant individuals and approaches a more 'great' meaning.

He did not fly to become a god.

He did this so that he could better see those who need to be protected.
“See, Clark,” Blake cleared his throat, as if about to deliver a profound speech, his tone carrying a hint of oratorical solemnity: “This is the significance of vision. When you stand at a sufficient height, you understand that we bear more than just…”

“Mr. Blake…”

Clark interrupted him quietly, his tone tinged with a sense of grievance tinged with the relief of someone who had survived a near-death experience. "Is this the extreme environment you were talking about that I 'didn't have to go through'? What happened to the gradual, step-by-step approach?"

He hadn't forgotten the out-of-body sensation he'd experienced during those few seconds of freefall.

Instead of being embarrassed by his carefully crafted emotions, Blake burst into laughter.

He didn't answer Clark's question directly, but instead glanced casually at the night sky above, where it seemed to be empty.

A sly smile curved his lips.

"As a coach, in front of parents," Blake lowered his voice and straightened his back, "you have to show some 'real skills' and effective teaching results from time to time, don't you?"

"Otherwise, how can anyone feel comfortable entrusting their child to me?"

"I'm a professional."

"???" Clark was completely confused by his words. What was he babbling about?

parents?

But the next second, Clark realized what was going on!
With his super hearing, he could detect more distant and subtle sounds when he was extremely relaxed and focused. He vaguely remembered that he seemed to have heard his uncle's voice during the tense flight training just now!

Could it be...?!

Clark looked up sharply, his super vision sweeping across the night sky that Blake had just glanced at, carefully searching for every cloud and every ray of moonlight.

No.

There were no rolling dark clouds, no flashing thunder, and no obvious figures.

Only a tranquil night, a few wisps of thin clouds, and the clear, bright full moon, hung quietly in the sky.

Everything seemed normal, as if the faint voice and Blake's pointed words were just his imagination.

Seeing Clark's look of sudden realization mixed with confusion, Blake smiled and patted him on the shoulder: "Alright, I think you've got the basics of flying."

"Next, we should practice how to make an emergency stop during high-speed flight, and how to crash in a more graceful way."

"Believe me, there will always be a time when you need to 'fall'."

"This time, I will give you advance notice."

"call out--!"

Two streaks of light flashed across the Smallville sky.

Just as Blake and Clark were leaving, the light was beginning to distort slightly in the silent airspace above them, which was higher up and almost touched the stratosphere.

The next second.
Two figures appeared silently in the moonlight.

It was Locke and Ron.

They clearly saw Clark below as he plummeted in terror, eventually hovering stably, and even attempting simple flight.

Locke crossed his arms, a mixture of emotion and reflection on his face:
"As expected of an old hero who has been active for decades, his teaching methods are a bit wild, but the results are undeniable... In one night, he really made my nephew fly."

His tone carried a hint of admiration.

“Locke.” Ron, who was standing beside him and chewing on something, asked in a tone that was hard to tell whether he was serious or teasing, “Won’t you take some kind of ‘retaliation’ against Mr. Black for this ‘radical’ teaching method?”

"..."

Locke glanced at Ron speechlessly.

"What kind of image do you have of me? A vengeful farm bully?" He shook his head. "As long as the result is good, a slightly exciting process... I'm not necessarily unable to accept it."

"After all, this kid still has a lot to learn."

"And where did you get those chocolate cookies?!"

Rong En's lips twitched slightly upwards as he ate the "Yue Li Yue" drink and mumbled:
"I just bought it from the local supermarket."

"I thought they'd stolen it from my living room."

Shrug, Ron changed the subject:
"So, regarding the Amazons of Paradise Island..."

“No rush.” Locke waved his hand, his gaze still following Clark below, who was cautiously yet excitedly trying to turn around like a fledgling bird leaving the nest for the first time. “Let’s talk about it after the spring planting season is over.”

"If the situation over there were truly dire, those so-called prophets and priests would probably be jumping up and down in a panic, offering sacrifices of cattle and sheep, or even more precious things, to their gods in order to seek divine guidance and assistance."

"Why would they only seek our help through official channels like they do now?"

Rong En was somewhat surprised to hear this interpretation.

“That makes sense. Based on the historical behavior patterns of the Amazons, their religious response is indeed more… direct when faced with a major crisis that truly threatens the lives of the queen and princesses.”

"However, I will stay here for the next few days to fully assist you and Jonathan in completing the spring planting work."

"How many days?"

Upon hearing this, Locke couldn't help but chuckle.

Looking out over the vast land stretching out beneath my feet in the night.

He patted Rong En on the shoulder, his tone slightly teasing:
“Rong En, unless you can instantly conjure a hundred clones with your telekinetic abilities, don’t even think about planting these hundreds of acres of land on time and to the required quality. It will take at least ten days to half a month.”

To know.
Before Bruce gave them the hilltop, there were only a hundred acres of Kent farm.

In the spring, he and Jonathan usually need to spend about 2-3 weeks preparing the land and sowing seeds.

Although he doesn't plan to plant all 10,000 acres right now, he has already planned several hundred acres of core area, as well as planting apple and pear trees.

All of this combined is by no means a small project.

Rong En blinked, but ultimately remained silent.

It slowly returned this sky to the young people who were learning to fly.

just
"Ding—! Ding—!"

"What's all that noise about?" Locke snatched a chocolate chip cookie from Ron's hand and ate it as he spoke. "Did I remind you that you should eat your chocolate chip cookies on time?"

Ron glanced resentfully at Locke, who was eating his own biscuit, but dared not speak out. He simply pressed the brooch on his chest.

He then pondered for a moment.

“Gotham, monsters are rampaging.” Ron frowned. “Do you want to go check it out? After all, if I remember correctly… Dio is…”

"."

He swallowed the last bit of chocolate chip biscuit, brushed the crumbs off his hands, and looked toward Gotham.

Locke didn't show much worry on his face; instead, a hint of consideration appeared on his face.

"There are monsters in Gotham, Dio is there, and Clark just learned to fly..."

Locke stroked his chin, a sly glint in his eyes. "Sounds like a good 'homework assignment'."

He turned to Rong En and said meaningfully:

"Some storms must be weathered by the children themselves. They won't learn real combat by just practicing in front of scarecrows on the farm."

"Let Clark fly over the Gotham night sky and experience how to use power in real chaos. That's more effective than a hundred lectures."

He paused, then pondered for a moment and said:

"Of course, you can keep an eye on things for me."

"Don't interfere unless absolutely necessary."

"Let Mr. Black take Clark to handle this; it's alright to suffer a small loss."

Rong En nodded slightly, understanding Locke's intention.

The brooch on his chest flickered slightly again, silently conveying more information from the scene to him, while also transforming Locke's decision into an invisible command, perhaps transmitted through some encrypted channel to Black, who was in the night sky familiarizing himself with Clark's powers.

"Just Locke."

Watching Locke slowly descend, Ron hesitated and asked, "Aren't you curious about Dio in Gotham?"

“I’ll wait for him to tell me himself.” Locke flew towards the farmhouse, seemingly uninterested in disrupting his rhythm due to the distant crisis, leaving behind only a light, casual remark:
“Eagles must leave the nest, and lion cubs must go their own way. We old folks just watch from the sidelines and make sure they don’t crash headfirst into the cliff.”

"Besides"

Looking at the warm lights of the farm in the distance, Locke laughed, "The two of them together might give that 'monster' of Gotham an unforgettable surprise."

"And it's still early, I'll go make a taco and get a veal steak."

"The two of them can have a late-night snack when they get home."

(End of this chapter)