American comics farmer: start by adopting the villain savior.

Chapter 227 Family Legacy, Part Two

The night fell quiet on the Kent farm.

Only the faint whistling of the wind through the cracks of the old barn could be heard.

In the nursery on the second floor, warm yellow light melted onto the wooden floor and two cribs side by side.

Locke sat on a low stool between the two beds.

One of his fingers was being tightly gripped by Virgil's little hand, the boy's grey-blue eyes wide open as if studying the lines on his father's knuckles.

Dante, who was sleeping soundly beside him, had a rosy face, was breathing evenly, and occasionally smacked his lips.

"Dante is being unusually well-behaved today."

Locke's voice was low, tinged with confusion.

Salafir sat cross-legged on the carpet a little further away, still clutching his music box that inexplicably broke every day, his hands resting on it, his gaze shifting between the baby and the starry sky outside the window.

Hearing Locke's words, he nodded, his hair swaying in the light.

"Dante secretly crushed a teething biscuit with his little hands that afternoon and smeared the crumbs on Virgil's face. Virgil didn't cry, he just stared at him, as if holding a grudge."

"It turns out he really does hold grudges," Salafir said, laughing at himself. "I saw him find an opportunity to slap Dante."

“Virgil might become just as childish as his brother in the future,” God, who was floating in the sky, mocked. “Luckily, I didn’t have a physical body when I was a child, or I would have definitely tortured you.”

“Gods, Virgil is watching you,” Salafir exclaimed in surprise.

"?" Shen Du quickly glanced over, only to find that Virgil had long since fallen asleep. "Brother, you..."

He gritted his teeth, about to explode.

"You two"

A voice came from the boundary between the shadows and the wall. Dio crossed his arms, his red eyes like two unwavering candlelight in the dim light, and whispered, "Be quiet."

Salafir covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.

Shen Du snorted coldly and said nothing more.

Dio nodded, then turned his gaze to Locke's broad back.

They seemed afraid of missing a single glance.

"dad."

Salafir suddenly put down the puppet, scooted forward, and asked with a hint of longing in her voice, "Are the stars in Greece the same as ours?"

Locke gently withdrew his fingers from Virgil's grasp so as not to wake the sleeping child.

“The stars are the same, Salafir,” he said gently. “It’s just that they appear to be arranged a little differently depending on where you look at them.”

"It's like the feeling of looking at our windmills from the front and the back of the barn."

“Oh…” Salafir nodded as if she understood, then looked up at the starry sky, “Then… that constellation, could there be something different there?”

“No,” Dio said calmly. “The arrangement of stars is simply a matter of gravity and distance. The stories in each constellation are nothing more than the tedious and far-fetched interpretations of the world.”

He habitually poured cold water on the idea, but his gaze also unconsciously drifted towards the starry sky outside the window.

Salafir puffed out his cheeks and looked at the capital with a defiant expression.

“I agree with him,” Shendu expressed his support.

"You!" Salafil exclaimed angrily, "You didn't say that before you went to bed last night!"

"So what?" Shen Du sneered.

"alright."

“Your brother is right, but not entirely right.” Locke chuckled, cleverly finding a middle ground. “The stars themselves follow a set pattern, but what the person looking at them has in their heart determines what they will see.”

“For example,” he added, “there are different ancient legends in Greece and other regions.”

These words cheered Salaphire up again and even caught the attention of the gods.

The room fell silent again, with only Dante's soft snoring and Virgil's gradually calming breathing remaining.

Locke watched as the two children finally drifted off to sleep, and he carefully pulled out the small blankets that they had kicked off.

He stood up, his tall figure casting a steady silhouette on the wall.

Then his gaze fell on Salafir's affectionate little face, before shifting to the divine capital and Dio high in the sky and in the shadows.

"The time I was away."

Locke's voice was soft, yet carried a heavy weight of trust. His gaze slowly moved between the three children. "My little brothers, I'm entrusting them to you."

Salafir immediately straightened his back, his face full of seriousness, as if he was determined to complete the mission.

Dio neither nodded nor spoke, but the arms he had crossed over his chest seemed to tighten slightly.
Shen Du snorted coldly:
"I wish I hadn't gone to that school. Otherwise, I definitely would."

Locke couldn't help but chuckle, raising his hand to ruffle Shen Du's hair, thus interrupting the child's truancy plan.

Then he gave Dior a knowing look.

Dio shrugged, then grabbed one of them with each hand, and led Salafir and the god away from the nursery, leaving only the sound of the sleeping babies breathing inside.

Seeing this, Locke smiled, then took out his phone and quickly typed a short message before sending it.

after a moment
Almost the instant he received the reply, the air in the corner of the nursery seemed to be twisted by an invisible hand, and a small cloud of dazzling purple smoke suddenly exploded.

The void, shimmering with unstable arcane light, was painstakingly pried open.

A signature top hat appeared first, followed by Zatanna Zatara's pretty face, which showed a hint of embarrassment.

just
She seemed to be stuck, her upper body protruding through the hole, while her lower body was still struggling on the other side, just like a cat trapped in a trap.

"..."

Locke crossed his arms, raised an eyebrow leisurely, and said with undisguised teasing, "Hey, Miss Magician, have you been eating too well lately?"

His gaze swept over her cheeks, which seemed slightly rounder than before.

Zatanna tried to maintain her dignity by glaring, but her current situation rendered the gesture ineffective.

She didn't say anything, but just twisted her body even more forcefully.

Locke sighed, stepped forward, reached out and precisely grabbed her upper arm. Like pulling a radish from the ground, he pulled her out of the unstable teleportation hole and placed her steadily on the ground.

Once she was steady, Zatanna didn't rush to speak. Instead, she immediately turned her back and hurriedly adjusted her performance dress.

The back of her black tuxedo was slightly wrinkled, the collar of her white shirt was a little crooked, and a few strands of black hair slipped from her ears, clinging to her cheeks, which were slightly flushed from the earlier commotion.

Then she took a deep breath, turned around, and tried her best to adopt a solemn and dignified expression, declaring in her usual loud voice on stage:

"By the order of magic, I summon the future Sorcerer Supreme—Zatana Zatara. What urgent matter do you wish to ask of me, farmer?"

Locke stared at her expressionlessly, remained silent for two seconds, and then slowly said, "...The future Sorcerer Supreme who got stuck in the portal he summoned himself? That sounds pretty impressive."

Zatanna puffed out her cheeks, deciding to ignore his sarcastic remarks and maintain her pretentious demeanor, though her eyes darted around somewhat.

"Farmer! State your request!"

Locke's lips twitched; he finally couldn't hold back any longer.

He curled his finger and flicked his finger lightly on her smooth forehead.

"Ouch!"

Zatanna immediately lost her composure, clutching her forehead. Her feigned grandeur vanished instantly, and she grimaced in pain, yelling, "What are you doing!"

“Behave yourself, Miss Magician.”

Locke looked at her speechlessly. "Speak properly."

Zatanna rubbed her reddened forehead, pouted, and finally gave up on her pretense. Her voice returned to its usual clear tone, tinged with a hint of grievance and helplessness: "...'Lady Hat' has been acting strangely lately, she doesn't seem to understand me, and there's nothing I can do about it..."

She pointed to the somewhat listless top hat on her head.

"We don't understand each other?"

And a hat?
Locke frowned; the statement was a bit abstract.

"Um…"

Zatanna lowered her hand, her expression becoming somewhat confused. She subconsciously stroked the brim of her hat, her brows furrowing slightly. "The magic within me... is surging, restless, and sometimes it acts out of control."

Locke asked, puzzled, "A period of magical upheaval? What's that new term?"

His knowledge of magic mostly came from Zatanna's on-the-spot teaching, and he was not familiar with the specialized terminology within this system.

Upon hearing this, Zatanna cleared her throat.

Trying to make myself look more professional.

"Simply put, people like us who have magical blood will always encounter at least one period of explosive growth in our magical power in our lives." She stretched out her slender fingers and began to list, "Usually, it comes between the ages of 12 and 18, which can be considered our 'adolescence' in the magical world."

"Oh~" Locke suddenly realized.

"With the arrival of the surge period, the mana reserves in the body will increase dramatically, possibly doubling." Seeing the farmer listening attentively, Zatanna paused, her tone carrying a hint of pride in imparting knowledge, and emphasized, "It could also increase several times! This is one of the key periods that lays the foundation for a mage's future achievements."

Upon hearing this, Locke's gaze unconsciously swept over Zatanna.

The mature and graceful curves outlined by that tuxedo were so well-proportioned that it was hard to associate it with the term 'puberty'.

His tone carried a hint of uncertainty:
"So... this counts as... a 'second growth spurt'?"

"What are you thinking about!"

Zatanna's face darkened. "I already said 'at least once'! That means the number of times has no necessary relation to age!"

Taking a deep breath, seemingly to calm herself and also to emphasize her 'seniority,' she slightly raised her chin and let out a soft hum with a hint of barely perceptible pride:
"I am but a humble man, yet I have lived to this day..."

She deliberately drew out her words, "It's surged eight times already."

“Eight times?!”

Locke exclaimed in surprise.

He clearly remembered Zatanna's age; she was only twenty-two.

If we start counting from the most common age of twelve, wouldn't that mean there's a magical surge every year or two on average?
Zatanna looked at the undisguised shock on Locke's face, and her previous embarrassment was finally replaced by the triumph of winning back the score.

She extended her index finger and waved it knowingly:

"The mysteries of magical bloodlines cannot be fathomed by ordinary laws. The timing, frequency, and intensity of their surge vary from person to person. For someone like me..." She paused deliberately, blinking, "those with exceptional talent will naturally experience it a little more frequently than ordinary people."

What she didn't say was that every surge of magic was accompanied by enormous risks and a test of control, but it was precisely this frequency of surges, far exceeding that of ordinary people, that allowed her to accumulate an astonishing amount of magic power at such a young age.

Looking at her 'praise me for being awesome' expression, and recalling her disheveled state when she was stuck in his teleportation portal, Locke was momentarily at a loss for words.

He rubbed his temples, and finally could only sigh from the bottom of his heart, his voice filled with an incredulous laugh:
"He truly deserves to be called the future Supreme Mage."

Upon hearing this, Zatanna tilted her small nose up slightly, a hint of satisfaction in her expression, and hummed, "So, Mr. Farmer, is there something thorny that you urgently need to ask for help from the future great Sorcerer Supreme?"

Locke smiled, stopped joking, and became more serious.

“I’m going on a long trip soon, it won’t be for too long, but I’m a little worried about home.” He turned to the side, gesturing for Zatanna to look at the two cribs side by side. “Mainly these two little ones, Virgil and Dante. They… have a special constitution, like lighthouses in the night, with a natural attraction to certain… ‘unclean things’.”

He didn't explicitly say 'demon,' but he believed Zatanna would understand.

Upon hearing this, Zatanna naturally turned her gaze to the sleeping twins.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she were sensing something.

After a moment, her tone became more professional:
"I see…"

"That's simple. In theory, we just need to make a small gadget, like putting a lampshade over a light bulb, to cover up the special fluctuations they emit."

As expected of a professional, he can make even a casual analogy easy to understand.

“Then please help me,” Locke said ‘devoutly,’ “the future great Sorcerer Supreme—Lady Zatanna Zatara.”

"."

"Ha ha."

The magician chuckled awkwardly, "But I don't think I can help much."

“I’m currently in a magical surge phase! The magic power inside me is like a balloon that keeps inflating. If I don’t control it properly, forget about making intricate magical artifacts, I might just blow up your precious farm to the heavens with a 'bang',” she said in a low voice, sounding a little frantic. “That’s why I’ve been avoiding using complex magic lately, since even the ‘Hat Lady,’ which is a magical artifact, gets stuck with me.”

"Could it have gotten this out of control...?"

Locke pondered, his brow furrowing slightly.

But then he remembered that he had only sent a message, and this guy had immediately used teleportation to rush over.
Locke's eyes softened at the sight of such unwavering sincerity.

"So, isn't there any other, more reliable method?"

He pressed on, his voice softening.

"actually."

Zatanna hesitated, her fingers twirling her hair in a knot. "I just need to reduce the excessive magic power in my body to a level I can control normally." "But the problem is, the process of consuming magic power itself requires precise control, and what I lack most right now is control!"

"It's like trying to water a seedling that needs a precise amount of water with a violently shaking kettle. Either it won't get the water thoroughly, or it will wash the seedling away by the roots... So it's very difficult to manage..."

She became more and more frustrated as she spoke, her head drooping and her top hat tilting to one side, making her look particularly pitiful.

However, Locke blinked, a look of sudden realization on his face.

"So it was just that you had too much magic, exceeding your current control, which caused you to easily lose control..." he muttered to himself, then laughed heartily as if he had thought of a brilliant idea, "That's easy, just come to me!"

He patted his chest, with a unique certainty:

"I'm actually a professional in this area."

"?"

You're a farmer, what's your specialty?

A real question mark appeared above Zatanna's head, her eyes filled with confusion.

But before she could react, she looked at Locke and saw the man suddenly reach his hands into the empty space beside him.
His movements were as practiced as if he were taking a wrench off a tool rack.

But accompanied by a subtle spatial ripple
He took it out.
It was a weapon with an antique design and a dull luster...

A long greatsword?!

“Miss Magician, it might hurt a little bit,” Locke said casually.

"wait wait wait!"

Zatanna looked at the weapon, which was clearly not meant to be harmless, and subconsciously swallowed.

As she silently removed the top hat that seemed to offer a slight sense of security, she quietly took a step back and said dryly:

"I...I suddenly remembered I might have something to do at the shop...Goodbye!"

However, before she could fully put it into action...
"Om-!"

Zatanna felt a blur before her eyes.

When she came to her senses again, the excruciating pain she had anticipated did not occur. Instead, she felt a slight 'push' in her chest, a dull sensation mixed with a strange tingling feeling.

She instinctively looked down and touched it with her hand; the dress was intact, and she couldn't feel any wounds on her skin.

But the changes in the magic power within her body were undoubtedly telling her what had happened.
Previously, there was a surge of magical power that kept expanding and constantly pushing the limits of her magical abilities.
It's actually calmed down now?

No, it didn't disappear; rather, the magic power was consumed to a very comfortable average level!
Although she could still feel the magic power slowly recovering, waiting for the next impact on the bottleneck, the surging feeling that could explode out of control at any moment had disappeared, and she had returned to the range that she could precisely control!
She cast a questioning glance at Locke.

But the farmer's face was unusually rosy, his eyes were bright, and he looked relaxed.
As if he had just enjoyed a sumptuous meal, and even felt a little unsatisfied... he let out a light, satisfied burp?
Then, under her blank gaze, Locke, as if completing a trivial task, silently and meticulously stuffed the seemingly formidable greatsword back inch by inch into the empty space beside him.
Zatanna opened her mouth, but couldn't utter a single syllable for a long time.

She then remembered the unexpected incident during their first meeting: this man had absorbed most of her magic.
Seeing that Zatanna was still in shock, Locke waved his hand in front of her eyes: "Snap out of it, Miss Magician. Now that your magic is stable, you can get back to work, right?"

Zatanna blinked sharply, took a deep breath, and tried to suppress the horrifying thought that 'did he just drink my magic like it was afternoon tea?'

She shook her head, regaining her professional demeanor, and cleared her throat:

"Ahem... That's enough. Find me two suitable containers, preferably gemstone necklaces, as they have good energy conductivity and are easy to wear."

Locke nodded, his face showing no surprise.

He reached into the space beside him again, rummaged around for a bit, and pulled out two necklaces.

One is a gold chain adorned with azure sapphires.

The other was a silver chain adorned with fiery red gemstones.

Its surface radiates a warm and understated luster, clearly indicating that it is no ordinary product.

"Here," Locke said casually, handing over the two chains. "A gift from nature."

Zatanna's eyes lit up as she took the necklace.

She examined the sapphire closely, then looked at the ruby, her voice filled with disbelief and surprise: "This...this is one of the two pieces from the 'Three Lives of Stars' set, which was the store's prized possession a few years ago at the Metropolitan Lacey Jewelry Store, right? I remember the price was ridiculously high back then!"

"Is that so?" Locke's eyes darted around. "It should be that set, right? It looked pretty shiny, so I picked it up from the roadside."

That kid from Shen Du really doesn't value Lionel's money.
"."

Zatanna pursed her lips and recalled, "I remember there were sapphires, rubies, and one amethyst. I heard that a mysterious young tycoon bought them all a few days ago, but I never expected... to end up with you."

She stroked the smooth surface of the sapphire with a hint of wistfulness in her voice, "I scrimped and saved, worked like crazy for years, and saved up for ages, hoping to buy it someday..."

Seeing the mixture of affection and heartache on her face, Locke found it somewhat amusing and casually asked, "So why didn't you end up buying it?"

Zatanna shrugged, as if relieved, or perhaps self-deprecating.

“Because once I’ve saved up enough money, looking at that string of numbers, I suddenly… can’t bear to spend it.” She sighed, with a touch of petty bourgeois shrewdness, “It feels too extravagant to exchange money for a pretty stone that you can’t eat or drink and wear around your neck.”

As she spoke, Zatanna carefully placed the two necklaces on the low cabinet beside her, and began to take out various strange and unusual spellcasting materials from her small bag, muttering to herself, "Alright, let's not talk about this anymore."

"Let me concentrate. After all, this is such an expensive device. If we mess it up, we'll really lose a lot of money..."

"What did you lose? It's mine," Locke joked. "Actually, I wouldn't be too bothered if it got broken."

These words were spoken very casually, just like the banter between the two of them in the past.

But this time.
Zatanna's movements froze slightly, her hands, which were about to pick up the necklace, paused in mid-air.

She didn't turn around, but her profile looked somewhat gloomy.
The warm light in the room cast a small shadow under his lowered eyelashes, making the magician's expression appear somewhat cold, and with a hint of stifled resentment.

broken
Locke paused, suddenly realizing that his teasing remark had gone too far. He softened his tone, trying to salvage the situation: "Um... is there anything I can help you with? Hand me something, or... hold the lamp for you?"

Zatanna glanced at him but didn't say anything.

I took a deep breath and focused all my attention on the two necklaces.

She placed her hands lightly above the gems, and a gentle flow of magical energy emanated from them, seeping into the interior of the sapphires and rubies.

At the same time, he was chanting ancient and short incantations in a low voice.

The whole process was smooth and seamless, a stark contrast to her previous predicament where even the teleportation portal was stuck.

In just a moment, the magical aura surrounding her quietly dissipated.

"done."

She spoke calmly as she deftly put the little props that had hardly been used back into her hat.

Locke leaned closer, staring at the two gemstone necklaces that looked exactly the same as before, somewhat uncertainly: "Is this... all done?"

"if not?"

Zatanna snorted irritably and stuffed the last small bottle into her bag. "What else do you want to see? Fire-breathing or a magic trick?"

"Excuse me. I am a magician now, not a circus magician."

As she spoke, she casually tossed her top hat into the air.

"Are you leaving now?"

Locke watched her nimble movements and instinctively spoke.

"They're gone."

Zatanna didn't turn around, her voice muffled, "I still have some chores to do at the shop, I have to go."

She raised her hand, intending to use the 'Hat Lady' to cast a teleportation spell to leave.

"and many more……"

But a warm hand suddenly reached out and gently grasped her wrist.

Zatanna paused, then turned her head in surprise.

Locke's other hand had somehow reached into the void again, and he pulled out another necklace.

The chain is an antique brass color, unlike the previous one which was gold and the other silver.

But what was hanging there was a translucent purple gemstone, its interior seemingly filled with swirling nebulae.

Before she could even react.

Zatanna felt a blur before her eyes, and then a cool touch on her neck. Looking down, she saw the purple gemstone necklace securely placed around her neck.

The brass chain hugged the curve of her collarbone, and the purple gemstone dangled perfectly across her chest, shimmering with light.

"You've missed something."

Locke released her wrist, his tone a little unnatural, his gaze shifting for a moment before he said in a low voice, "I've been troubling you so much, but I haven't been able to help you much... Consider this a thank you gift, and also compensation."

"Consider it compensation for a future Sorcerer Supreme, and... to help her make up her mind to spend the money she was reluctant to spend."

Zatanna paused, her fingers tracing the warm, purple gemstone. Beneath the cool touch, she seemed to feel a strange warmth.

Looking at Locke's somewhat awkward yet trying-to-be-composed demeanor, the inexplicable tightness in her chest suddenly vanished, replaced by a complex mix of sourness, bitterness, and a hint of amusement.

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but in the end she just grabbed her top hat and hurriedly put it on her head, covering her slightly burning ear tips.

"......."

Miss Magician seemed to mutter something indistinctly.

But before Locke could hear clearly, a dazzling purple smoke exploded, making the journey much smoother than the way he had come.

As the smoke dissipated, the figures vanished, leaving only a faint scent of violets in the air.

Looking at the empty corner, Locke smiled helplessly and gently turned off the nursery light.
-
Forgotten Bar.

Behind the bar, Jim was listlessly wiping a very old-looking glass, looking worried.

His gaze swept across the empty bar hall, finally settling on the gorilla in the corner, and he sighed deeply.

"If this continues..."

Jim muttered under his breath, his voice filled with despair, "It really means I have no choice but to go back to Mira to hunt..."

The more he thought about it, the more sorrow welled up inside him. He couldn't help but raise his voice and complain in Bobo's direction, "Am I destined to spend my whole life with a gorilla like you?!"

"So who else do you want to be with? With your band that disbanded a long time ago?" Bobo slurred drunkenly. "Jim, how old are you?"

"you!"

Jim was so angry he almost crushed the cup in his hand, veins bulging on his forehead.

But before he could react, an unusual magical fluctuation emanated from the air in front of the bar.

Zatanna Zatala.

The troublesome guy who gets drunk and acts crazy is here.
Jim's heart skipped a beat.

However, what happened next surprised him.

Zatanna strode confidently to the bar today.
Before Jim could even manage a professional fake smile, she slammed a small pile of things onto the gleaming bar counter with a 'thud'.

Jim looked down and his eyes widened instantly.
Twenty gold coins, shimmering with a pure magical luster!
Jim.

Zatanna raised her chin slightly, her tone carrying an unprecedented boldness, "Give me the most expensive one!"

"?!"

Jim's mind went completely blank from the overwhelming surprise.

He glanced at the gold coins, then at Zatanna's face, which, though still bearing her usual arrogance, was clearly in high spirits, and almost wept with joy.

His hands trembled as he stroked the gold coins, his voice choked with emotion:

“Miss Zatanna…you…you are such a kind person…”

He stammered, then quickly turned around and took a bottle of wine with a dusty, old-fashioned label from the top of the liquor cabinet. He carefully poured a glass and pushed it in front of Zatanna, saying, "This...this one's on me!"

He tilted his head back, trying hard not to let tears of emotion fall, and exclaimed:
"I know... I know you're here to support our business because you're worried we'll go out of business... but please don't worry... as long as there are people pursuing the mystery... Forgotten Bar will always exist..."

What is this guy mumbling about?
With a look of disgust on her face, Zatanna picked up the wine glass and was about to take a sip.

However, as if suddenly remembering something, she gracefully extended her index finger and moved it slightly, causing the shimmering purple gemstone to float up.

It swaggered around in the dim bar lights.

"Look at this."

Her tone was tinged with undisguised smugness. "What is this?"

Jim blinked, not understanding why, but still complimented him:

"A priceless treasure! From which dimension did this opportunity come about?"

Zatanna took the gem back with satisfaction.

“A gift from nature,” she said immediately, but after thinking for a moment, she added, “You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”

Jim: "???"

(End of this chapter)