Wings Of Deception
Chapter 28 Losing Battle Or Just An Amusement Game

Chapter 28: Chapter 28 Losing Battle Or Just An Amusement Game

Using the same trick, three intelligent beasts pushed through the fifth ring of flames, followed by a quarter of the remaining horde.

Except for the parrots, the other birds retreated to the mountain, settling on the thick branches of the great tree. They cast lingering glances at the mockingbird, anticipation hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.

Woodie, no longer as enthusiastic, busied herself with her ever-growing magical tree, its branches twisting and pulsing with latent power. Bubble, sharp-eyed and ruthless, silenced any restless murmurs with a single, cold glare. Blackie, unnervingly calm after his first blood-soaked battle, remained perched in quiet contemplation, his dark feathers glistening under the fading light.

John, the mockingbird, shook out his wings and let out a crisp chirp, his tone carrying absolute authority.

"Parrot Hall, burn all the paths in the fifth ring of bonfire."

The parrots responded with a melodious song, their voices blending harmoniously amidst the burning cinders of the woods. Moments later, they exhaled streams of fire, sealing off all five paths in the fifth ring of flame.

As the hunt resumed in the narrowing gap between the fifth and sixth rings, John let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Ah, boring! The same routine. It’s not amusing anymore."

A mischievous glint flickered in his eyes before he issued his next command.

"Parrot Hall, burn every path. The rest of you—attack those three, but don’t kill them just yet. Play with them. Let’s see if they’re as strong as they claim to be."

The parrots erupted in joy, their song shifting to a frenzied melody of destruction. They breathed fire with unrestrained delight, their flames painting the sky in vibrant bursts of crimson and gold, as if celebrating a festival of carnage.

John couldn’t help but laugh heartily.

"Ha! Birds!"

Then, a second thought struck him.

Argh... my bad. I’m a bird too.

Still, their innocent glee felt almost comical, considering the ruthless slaughter they had committed mere moments ago.

Without hesitation, the flock took flight—save for Woodie and Bubble. They ascended together, turning their song into a war rhythm, their voices resonating above the crimson-streaked battlefield where blood splattered over the green expanse between the rings of fire.

The hunt had begun once more.

Yet, one bird did not join the chase.

Blackie, the woodpecker, soared high above, scanning the battlefield with keen eyes. He wasn’t looking for prey—he was searching for something else.

And then, at last, he spotted it.

A delighted chirp escaped Blackie.

"There they are. Hello there."

Without another word, he adjusted his wings, tucking them close as he dove toward his targets—none other than the three intelligent beasts who were exploiting the fruits of their latest plan.

At that moment, the trio had reached the fourth ring of flames.

They came to a halt just before the searing barrier, patiently waiting for the white lion to perform his usual miracle.

As expected, the lion raised his head, his mane bristling with power as he invoked his spell. The air around them trembled as gusts of wind were sucked toward his open maw, condensing into a swirling sphere of wind-based energy.

Blackie didn’t strike immediately. He waited.

Perched high above, he observed with cold precision, his keen eyes locked onto the lion.

Then—at the perfect moment—he struck.

A blur of motion. A single slash.

His left talon raked across the white lion’s face.

The attack was swift, a ghostly flash of steel-like claws. By the time the others even registered the movement, four deep, crimson lines were already carved across the lion’s face, blood spraying in his wake.

A thunderous roar of pain tore through the battlefield.

The spell shattered.

With no control to contain it, the swirling mass of wind-based energy exploded violently, unleashing a shockwave that sent the three beasts hurtling through the air.

A deafening bang echoed as they crashed into the distance.

From high above the trees, John chirped in amusement, his voice carrying a note of approval.

"Good timing, Blackie. Good timing. That was a good one."

The other birds momentarily paused, their voices rising in an impromptu song of praise for Blackie, their melodies carrying across the battlefield. But just as quickly as they started, they lost interest and returned to the hunt.

It wasn’t long before boredom set in.

The beasts were barely putting up a fight. Too easy. Too predictable. The birds sang their dissatisfaction, their tones laced with mockery.

Meanwhile, the white lion staggered back to his feet, shaking off the lingering pain. Blood dripped from the shallow claw marks across his face, each drop a reminder of the humiliating strike. His pride burned hotter than his wounds.

With a furious roar, he bared his fangs.

"Coward! If you have the guts, face me head-on! Why resort to such an underhanded attack? Come now, you bloody bird!"

Before he could get worked up further, the wolf stepped forward, lowering his voice as he whispered,

"Anu, stop provoking them. Don’t invite disaster."

The lion frowned but listened as the wolf continued in a grave tone.

"After everything we’ve seen, we are completely overpowered. There’s nothing we can do here. They’re stronger. Far stronger than us. Our best chance is to play along... and negotiate with their leader."

Anu’s tail flicked uneasily.

"W-what do you mean? Are you sure?"

The wolf nodded.

"Yes. That mockingbird—it’s the leader. But forget him for a second. I can sense the auras of the others... they’re following him, waiting for his command. We’re outnumbered. And outmatched."

The lion’s jaw clenched as he processed the information, but before he could respond, the ape let out an enraged growl.

"You shitty birds! Just you wait—"

"Shut up, fool." The lion turned on him, his voice a deep, guttural growl. "One more word, and I’ll bite your neck and end you once and for all. Understand?"

Blackie, the woodpecker, watched from above, his sharp eyes glinting with mischief. Without hesitation, he struck again.

A blur of feathers. A flash of talons.

Four fresh claw marks slashed across the lion’s back.

Anu roared, his voice thunderous with fury. "Are you just going to stand there? Block this damned bird’s attacks! There’s no point in engaging if we can’t even move forward!"

Mario, the gorilla, clenched his fists. "What are your orders, Prince Anu?"

"Hold off any distractions or attacks while I invoke my spell. Once it’s ready, we push forward."

Mario thumped his chest. "Understood, Young Master."

The battlefield fell into a tense silence.