"I didn't expect it to be quite this lively over here."
The Ancient One's voice carried a hint of surprise.
Moments ago, she had been in a standoff with two Hell Lords. While no brutal combat had actually erupted, the mere act of maintaining such a confrontation was mentally exhausting.
After all, Lords of Hell were never easy to deal with.
"It seems this gentleman is the root of it all?"
As she spoke, the Ancient One swept her gaze over the somewhat flustered Doctor.
Cradling Nimue in his arms, the Doctor was in a state of utter embarrassment.
How could he calmly face the "maiden" he had failed to keep his promise to? Even if, admittedly, this wasn't the first time he had done such a thing.
"Hello. Just call me the Doctor."
The mysterious Doctor's tone was slightly awkward, but he maintained his composure overall.
"The Doctor? That title reminds me of quite a few people," the Ancient One mused, surprised.
In the near future, many "Doctors" would emerge—Doctor Strange, Doctor Doom, Doctor Voodoo...
In this world, it seemed that anyone bearing the title of "Doctor" was not to be trifled with.
Even Tony Stark, currently struggling to stand, was a doctor of sorts. Perhaps they would even meet a Doctor Banner later on...
"Enough. Now is not the time for chatter."
Bul-Kathos interrupted the conversation brusquely, pulling the Sword of Kings from his inventory.
The line of the Skeleton King of Khanduras were no pushovers; Leoric had left too deep an impression on Bul-Kathos for him to treat this lightly.
"Now, let Hellboy take this sword and cut off Nimue's head."
Bul-Kathos looked at Nimue, who was nuzzling against the Doctor's chest like a kitten, his expression unamused.
"Um, I'd like to ask... why must we do this?"
The Doctor tightened his embrace subconsciously upon hearing the command. Fortunately, he wasn't a mindless fool who would scream and shout at the suggestion.
His long life and vast experiences allowed the Doctor to face most situations with equanimity. A traveler traversing time does not easily lose their cool.
Even in the most difficult circumstances, he would ponder how to solve the problem rather than barking out rash objections.
"His death is a conclusion mandated by Time. Put that way, you should understand," the Ancient One said, lowering her gaze.
She couldn't articulate the intricacies of Time clearly to most, but as a Time Lord, the mysterious Doctor should grasp it.
"So, you're saying I have seen her death, and I have accepted this ending?"
The Doctor felt a dampness on his chest; Nimue was gently wiping her tears against him.
"I think we should deal with those guys first," Constantine said, a hint of panic in his voice. The Cybermen were about to step out of the rift in front of him.
He couldn't stand around listening to this group discuss the philosophy of Time. That topic was far too remote for him.
"Rare specimens. I want to keep one to study."
Bul-Kathos shoved the obstruction known as Constantine aside and stared down the approaching Cybermen, the Sword of Kings in hand.
He possessed a curiosity for the unknown as well.
"Handling these chaps isn't difficult, but if we don't completely seal the time rift, no one knows what might come out from the other side," the Doctor opined, gently patting Nimue's back—though Rose looked at him with a peculiar expression as he did so.
"These things are strong?"
Bul-Kathos reached out, thrust his hand directly through the time rift, grabbed a Cyberman by the head, and hauled it out.
The action was too fast for even the Doctor to stop.
The existence of a time rift was inherently dangerous; the flow of time on either side was impossible to define.
Yet, Bul-Kathos acted as if nothing had happened, effortlessly retracting his arm along with the somewhat bewildered Cyberman.
"If I may ask... are you immune to the effects of Time?"
The Doctor asked Bul-Kathos cautiously. Judging by the Cybermen's movement speed, time flowed much faster on the other side.
Yet Bul-Kathos seemed completely unaffected.
"How is that possible?"
Bul-Kathos replied while examining the Cyberman held before him.
Time affected Barbarians, especially him—he was a being who couldn't ignore rules entirely.
"Then why didn't you even feel discomfort?"
The Doctor carefully pulled out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at Bul-Kathos. He needed to analyze this entity's existence.
"Are you talking about aging?"
Bul-Kathos casually snapped the Cyberman's shoulder to prevent it from raising its arm to attack. He then used the Sword of Kings to pin the sparking, twitching metallic arm to the ground.
Faced with overwhelming physical force, even the self-evolving Cybermen had no good response.
While they could adjust their bodily structure, technology-based entities were ultimately bound by logic. Durability was their benchmark, so against immense brute force, this collective could only suffer in silence.
"No, I mean the uncoordinated flow of time has a massive impact on the body. For a living organism, this should be unbearable! It's like... the blood in your arm would be flowing at many times its normal speed, while your heart beats at its original rate. It's impossible for there to be no effect!"
Tony Stark, having finally stood up, shouted the explanation.
"Blood flow speed? What kind of problem is that?"
Bul-Kathos didn't understand Tony's point. He turned his head and casually snapped the Cyberman's other shoulder.
"I don't even know where the end of the universe is, and you're talking to me about this?"
The Doctor was momentarily speechless at Bul-Kathos's answer.
"Let me rephrase then. What is the average lifespan of your species?"
The question about lifespan was just to satisfy his curiosity. Who knew what limit a Nephalem's life could reach?
"Average? Maybe five or six hundred years? That's about when my friends died, anyway."
Bul-Kathos didn't know the actual average lifespan of a Nephalem; he was just using a simple sample size.
That sample consisted of the three fools who had died in battle together with him.
"Then... how old are you?"
Daimio finally found a gap to join the conversation. He could understand this part of the dialogue.
"Five hundred sixty-something? Around there. Why do you ask?"
Bul-Kathos snapped the Cyberman's neck as its chest began to flash like a strobe light—clearly, it had been preparing some high-tech attack.
"How long can Barbarians actually live?"
Jessica covered her mouth, shouting in surprise.
A long life was something every ordinary human deemed worth pursuing.
"How should I know? I've never seen a Barbarian die of old age."
Bul-Kathos was finally fed up with the topic. Inside his head, Andariel was laughing incessantly like an idiot.
It was as if she had witnessed something truly delightful.
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