Chapter 968: The Butler

“Miss Zatanna, please tell me this matter exactly as it happened. You don’t need to explain obscure terms—I understand them all. Just tell me the cause, the course, and the outcome.” Alfred said to Zatanna.

Zatanna opened her mouth, feeling something was off. She studied Alfred again but found no trace of magic use on him. Seeing her puzzled expression, Alfred explained:

“Master Wayne once became deeply obsessed with the occult. As his butler, I had to organize the materials he wished to investigate—and from that, I acquired considerable knowledge.”

“But… that’s impossible. Bruce knows nothing about the occult. In the ordinary world, finding true occult knowledge is nearly impossible.” Zatanna instinctively objected.

“Yes—but the butlers of the Pennyworth family have always dealt with employers’ interest in magic. Distinguishing genuine mages from charlatans is a mandatory skill for any Pennyworth butler.”

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Zatanna opened her mouth again, realizing she had no rebuttal. After all, she had once been hired by wealthy families or occult clans herself—and it was never the employers themselves who handled such matters, but their butlers.

This phenomenon was especially common in medieval Europe. As a hereditary family of servants once employed by royalty, the Pennyworths likely understood the occult better than many young mages.

“Alright, if that’s the case, then this matter becomes easier to explain.” Zatanna took several deep breaths, set aside her extra thoughts, and began recounting the story from the beginning.

As he had promised, Alfred listened patiently to every word Zatanna said, without interrupting. When she finished, he looked at her and asked:

“Miss Zatara, according to you, Bruce and Shiler’s souls are both in Hell, correct?”

Zatanna nodded. Alfred sighed and said, “Then what help do you expect from me?”

Zatanna frowned. “I contacted a relative from my family who has been to Hell. He left a beacon there, allowing me to use teleportation to reach it.”

“As I mentioned earlier, ordinary people reach Hell by traveling through the Spirit Realm to its edge, then journeying from the edge into Hell itself.”

“But doing so sends only the soul—and a soul in that state is extremely vulnerable. Many spells cannot be cast, and if you encounter demons, they may tear you apart.”

“Just like the mortal world, Hell is complex. Since the Lord of Hell left, the realm has been fractured among warlords. If you enter as a soul, you’ll become demon food—even the most powerful mages dare not be so reckless.”

“So I need to use the beacon to bring my physical body into Hell, so I can fully wield my power.”

“But in Hell, you can’t use Spirit Sight. I need a material medium to track soul signatures.” Zatanna sighed. “To find Bruce and Shiler, I must have an item belonging to each of them—to trace their soul’s aura.”

Alfred nodded. “But Miss Zatara, you know as well as I do that a competent butler never gives away his master’s personal belongings.”

“I know you and Master Wayne were close, but that was in the past. Now, Mr. Wayne has his own family and children. If I handed his private items to you, it might cause unnecessary complications for his future relationships.”

“But I… wait, family and children? Has Bruce gotten married?” Zatanna asked, surprised.

“No, not yet. But he already has two children. Oh, by the way, Miss Elsa should be awake by now. Merkel, please bring her down. She hasn’t taken her vitamin tablets yet.”

Merkel nodded and went upstairs. A moment later, he returned carrying a little girl. The moment Zatanna saw Elsa, she knew she was Bruce’s daughter—they looked identical.

“Good heavens!” Zatanna gasped. She stood frozen for a long moment, then said softly, “I never imagined that after all these years, he’s become a father.”

Alfred held Elsa, feeding her the vitamin tablets, then had Merkel take her upstairs to play. He looked at Zatanna and said:

“I want to bring Master Wayne back more than you do. But I’m just an old butler—I can’t do this. All I can do is uphold the butler’s code and protect this place for Mr. Wayne.”

Zatanna opened her mouth to speak, but Alfred continued: “Still, I’ve seen Mr. Zatara’s abilities. I believe you and your kind are reliable, trustworthy mages. But this matter is no trivial thing. You must tell me the full procedure—and demonstrate your ability to enter Hell.”

Alfred’s patient tone made Zatanna feel guilty. She hurried to explain:

“The Hell beacon comes in pairs. One is buried in Hell’s soil, placed in a safe location.”

“I hold the other. When I activate it, I open a portal that deposits me directly at the beacon’s location. Once there, I activate the enchanted personal item—it will reveal the direction of the soul’s aura. Following that direction, I can find them. And once I bring them back to the portal, I can rescue them.”

Zatanna described the process in as much detail as possible, but Alfred still had doubts. He said: “Miss Zatara, I don’t doubt your intentions—but Hell sounds incredibly dangerous. Even if you mean to save them, I don’t want you risking your life.”

Zatanna lowered her head, touched. “Thank you. But don’t worry about me. I’ve never been to Hell, but I’ve fought many demons from there. They’re not without weaknesses.”

“Hell isn’t like most imagine—full of lava and extreme heat. The inhabitants aren’t all fire-spewing goat-legged creatures. Demons come in many forms: shadows, wraiths, magma demons, upper demons, hounds, Sariel demons, and more.”

“Generally, incorporeal demons fear fire, just as human souls fear burning. They prefer darkness and cold, loathe heat and scorching—so using talismans to ignite fire is effective.”

“As for corporeal demons like magma demons, they aren’t afraid of fire—they even bathe in lava. But they can be shattered by powerful blows, and binding them with arrays is also a good solution.”

“As for high-ranking demons—even demon lords—their power is beyond human comprehension. Physical force won’t work. You must bargain with them.”

“Fortunately, they’re highly intelligent and eager to make pacts with humans. If you pay a price, they’ll let you pass.”

“A price?” Alfred asked.

“Yes. If you ask them to retrieve someone, the cost may be great. But if you only need passage, any small offering will do. They’ll demand exorbitant prices—but if you hold your ground and never yield, you won’t end up paying much.”

Alfred nodded thoughtfully. “Then this: Miss Zatanna, I’ll give you Master Wayne’s personal item—but you must perform the magic in front of me. Summon the portal, then enter it. Only then can I be certain you won’t lose the item outside, causing unnecessary trouble.”

“Fortunately, Merkel here is Mr. Rodriguez’s butler. He carries one of Mr. Rodriguez’s items—you won’t need to travel to his estate.”

“And I swear—I will tell no one what happened today. You should trust the Pennyworth family’s oath. We’ve always been known for our integrity.”

Zatanna hesitated, then said: “No, I’m not worried about leaks. Throughout history, countless people have seen magic—but without proof, it’s all just legend.”

“But where will I perform the ritual?” Zatanna glanced around the opulent hall of Wayne Manor. “A portal to Hell is a large-scale one—it’ll cause quite a disturbance. We can’t do it here.”

“No problem. We can go to the back garden. After all, the broccoli disaster destroyed the entire garden—it needed rebuilding anyway. Performing the ritual there will be safer and more secure.”

Zatanna considered it, then nodded. Alfred was right. She hadn’t decided where to perform the ritual anyway. If interrupted mid-casting, she could be injured. Wayne Manor was safe, quiet, and had someone nearby to guard her—indeed, a good choice.

Zatanna went to the back garden and began laying out the portal array with basic materials. Alfred returned to the manor building to retrieve the items.

Soon, the array was complete, ready to activate. Alfred brought a cloak—the same one hanging from Batman’s suit. Merkel brought a pen—Shiler had always used this one to write medical records.

Zatanna’s fingertips glowed. She gently touched both items. They floated into the air, then settled, emitting a faint, soft light.

She activated the portal. A massive crimson vortex appeared at the center of Wayne Manor’s garden. Holding the enchanted items, Zatanna took a deep breath and whispered to herself:

“Alright, so far, everything’s going smoothly. This isn’t hard, right? All depends on you now, Zatanna…” She felt nervous, her heart pounding.

Zatanna was busy encouraging herself and didn’t notice Alfred slowly approaching. When she felt a shadow creeping up behind her, she spun around sharply—

“Crack!”

Pain exploded in the back of her skull, followed by violent dizziness. Before her vision turned black, she saw only Alfred’s cold expression.

Alfred tossed the bloodied garden spade aside, adjusted his gloves, and said to Merkel: “Take this young, disrespectful lady upstairs to rest.”

Merkel swallowed hard, standing frozen. Alfred stared at him expressionlessly:

“I said it before: Gotham’s butlers don’t welcome visitors who come without a calling card or a gift.”

He glanced at Zatanna lying on the ground, his voice colder than ice:

“Especially when they bring bad news.”

He turned back to the portal. The crimson vortex pulsed with ominous energy. Merely looking at it made one’s bones tremble, conjuring images of every kind of monstrous horror.

But unfortunately for her, the butler who managed this estate feared nothing—not ghosts, demons, or devils.