The two heroines drank their way from morning to afternoon. It sounded like a long binge, but their stomachs weren't bottomless — after so scattered sips and a quick al, they ended up resting in one of the bar's private rooms.
Halfway through her nap, Thea suddenly rembered — she was supposed to et her father in the woods for training. She still reeked faintly of alcohol, her mind foggy. Definitely not in fighting shape.
Calling the bar owner over, she asked if there was anywhere she could take a shower.
Do you think this is a spa resort? the man cursed silently, but there was no way he could refuse a VIP like her. He led Thea to a small private bath area behind the bar — a place he admitted had never been open to the public.
Felicity had planned to head ho, but when she overheard that the bath was free, she tagged along out of curiosity. The boss, unsure what their relationship was but knowing better than to interfere, let her in too.
Once Thea stepped inside, she realized this wasn't just a bathroom — the owner had sohow dug out a natural hot spring, surrounded by stonework. The pool was small, fitting maybe four people if they squeezed — perfect for one, cozy for two.
"Wow, Thea, you sneaky girl!" Felicity gasped, eyes sparkling. "You've been holding out on ! We should've co here hours ago!"
Seeing there was no one else around, she stripped down without hesitation and slid into the steaming water with a blissful sigh.
Thea blinked, slightly stunned. Okay… wow. She's in great shape.
"Co on, what are you waiting for?" Felicity called, splashing a little water her way.
"Drinking before a hot spring isn't good for you," Thea protested weakly. "It's bad for your body."
"We finished hours ago!" Felicity countered, waving her hand dismissively. "That's only for people with health problems. A short soak won't hurt us — trust , I'm educated."
There was no winning this. With a resigned sigh, Thea slipped off her robe and stepped into the pool.
"Wait, why are you still wearing underwear?!"
"…Because—"
"Wow, Thea, your skin is so smooth!"
"…Felicity!"
"Heehee, and you're so tiny!"
The shaless blonde hacker gleefully teased the future heroine until Thea's face turned crimson. Thankfully, the steam blurred everything, and Felicity's near-sightedness without glasses saved Thea further embarrassnt.
Still, she had to admit — after a bit of wine, a nap, and now a hot spring soak, she felt incredible. Relaxed, warm, and clear-headed again.
Little did she know, this innocent mont would one day start a tradition: every ti the future League of Female Heroes held a eting, it would sohow end with a hot spring session. Thea would always remind them not to mix alcohol with the bath — and Wonder Woman would always laugh, "We're superheroes. What's there to be afraid of?"
After a bit of harmless fun — nothing more scandalous than teasing and laughter — Felicity eventually drove Thea to the forest before parting ways.
Thea looked around. No sign of Malcolm yet. Good — she needed a mont to center herself. Choosing a large tree, she sat cross-legged beneath it and began to breathe evenly.
What she didn't know was that Malcolm had been watching her the whole day. He'd actually arrived five minutes earlier, observing from afar this ti after being caught last night. Carefully, he gauged her awareness range by subtle movents and found it impressive — almost ten ters in radius.
In the League of Assassins, five ters was considered gifted. Lady Shiva — the world's deadliest assassin — could sense movent within twenty ters, dodging any lee or projectile attack except a sniper bullet.
Thea wasn't there yet, but with proper training, Malcolm believed she could soon dodge arrows and knives at close range — even bullets from mid-distance. Such instinct was extraordinary.
Watching her sitting still beneath the tree, he nodded to himself. Smart. Talented. Patient. Strong-willed. Young. The combination made even him — once the League's prized warrior — a little envious.
Stepping out from behind a tree, his voice rasped through the modulator. "Thea Queen. Are you ready to begin your training?"
Of course, Thea had sensed him long ago — she just hadn't bothered to speak up. Malcolm underestimated her; her true perception radius was closer to twelve ters.
The original Thea 1.0 had been a supporting-level hero — competent but not exceptional. This 2.0 fusion version, though, was another story entirely. It wasn't just additive — it was multiplicative. Like the difference between running a hundred ters in ten seconds versus five.
"I'm ready," she said seriously. "Please teach . I'm not afraid of hardship."
"Good. I see your resolve." He straightened his posture, hands clasped behind his back. "You may call the Dark Archer. From today, I'll teach you combat techniques. What do you wish to learn first?"
Thea almost laughed. What, no 'Welco to your first lesson, grasshopper'? Out loud, she said solemnly, "Since you're called the Dark Archer… let's start with archery. Show what you can do."
It sounded arrogant, but instead of irritation, Malcolm felt a surge of pride. He preferred boldness to ek obedience — heroes respected challenge, but villains thrived on it.
He took a tube of tennis balls from his pack and handed them to her. "Throw them in the air. Randomly. I'll shoot."
Oh, like Oliver's training montage, Thea thought. You two really are a straight line of succession — Ra's al Ghul taught you, you teach . I guess that makes the third generation?
Then she smirked inwardly. By that logic, my dear brother's practically the fifth generation — Ra's → Talia → Yao Fei → Yao Fei's daughter → Oliver. Yikes. If this were Asia, he'd have to bow every ti we t.
Taking one ball, she tossed it high into the air.
Thwip! The black arrow shot out, pinning the tennis ball cleanly to a tree trunk.
Damn, that's hard, she thought, impressed. Way harder than Oliver's wall shots — you've got to calculate both trajectory and timing perfectly.
No wonder the Dark Archer wiped the floor with the Green Arrow in season one. He really wasbetter.
She threw another. Then another.
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!
Each arrow struck dead center, embedding nine tennis balls neatly in a vertical pattern on the trunk.
"Incredible," Thea breathed, eyes shining. "That's what I want to learn!"
Malcolm exhaled quietly, relieved. He'd just barely kept up that display — his best form in years. At nearly fifty, he wasn't the tireless fighter he once was. Concentration could bridge the gap for a few minutes, but not forever.
That's the difference between and Oliver, he thought. I've got experience. He's got endurance. But as long as it's a short fight… I can still win.
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