Wings Of Deception
Chapter 35 Guest

Chapter 35: Chapter 35 Guest

Anu, the white lion, sprinted across the vast flatland, his powerful limbs tearing through the sea of verdant grass and wild weeds. His breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles burned, but he couldn’t stop—not with the sky above teeming with relentless pursuers.

John’s birds swarmed like a living storm, their shadows darting over him as they circled in formation. There was nowhere to hide, no trees or boulders to shield him. His only choice was to run—run as fast as his legs could carry him, straight toward home.

Almost every bird under John’s command had joined in this ruthless hunt. They were small, but to them, size no longer mattered. Fear had long been discarded, burned away by the merciless baptism of John’s Herding Mark—the Mark of Deception.

The pursuit was swift and relentless. Soon, they caught up. Clawed talons sliced through the air, beaks snapped hungrily, and wings buffeted the lion from all sides. Yet, not a single bird used their innate skills—John had forbidden it. This was a test of raw instinct, a game of pure savagery.

And in this game, the lion was no longer the king. He was the prey.

The swallows struck first, their sharp talons raking against his hide. They were the fastest in short bursts, darting in and out like living arrows. Next came the woodpeckers, their beaks hammering into his flesh with relentless precision. Then, the parrots descended, their claws tearing through fur and skin with brutal efficiency.

Every attack landed with precision, carving deep gashes into Anu’s once-pristine coat. His thick white mane, once a symbol of pride and power, was now streaked with crimson—some of it drying into a dark, matted black. Blood dripped down his back, trailing behind him as he ran, as if marking the path of his suffering.

Anu roared in agony, his voice shaking the plains. But he did not stop. He could not stop. With every slash, every wound, he pushed forward, refusing to fall. His powerful legs pounded against the earth, his breath ragged, his vision blurred—but his will unbroken.

The birds knew their orders well. They were not here to kill. If they had wanted him dead, he would have long since been sent to the underworld to meet his maker.

No, this was something far worse.

This was a lesson.

Anu, the white lion, struggled in his own way—running with every ounce of strength he had left. But the birds were relentless, merciless in their pursuit. His once-powerful strides grew sluggish, his vision blurred, and his breath came in ragged gasps. Blood seeped from his countless wounds, draining both his strength and will.

His legs, once mighty pillars of power, began to falter. His body felt heavier with each step. Then, at last, he stumbled.

He crashed to the ground, skidding across the dirt before slamming into a thorn-filled shrub. A pained growl rumbled in his throat—his final act of defiance—before his body went limp, surrendering to unconsciousness.

High above, perched on the ever-growing tree, John watched with keen amusement. A smirk played across his beak as he murmured, "What a great show for such a weak, scaredy cat. This pleases me."

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he addressed his flock. "I’m in a good mood. I won’t take his life—for now. Birds, bring him to the cave. We have a fine captive. His elders will compensate us for today’s losses."

With that command, the flock descended, ready to claim their prize.

The twelve birds exchanged glances before breaking into a brief discussion. Transporting a lion this massive was no easy task. One of them suggested chopping him into pieces for easier delivery—a practical but messy solution. However, bringing him back alive as a captive was a different challenge entirely. After all, compared to each of them, the lion weighed at least fifty times more.

Blackie took charge, analyzing the situation before arriving at a conclusion. "We’ll carry him together, just like ants moving prey far bigger than themselves. We’ll use our talons to dig into his hide and distribute the weight evenly."

The flock burst into song, praising Blackie’s ingenuity. To execute the plan, they divided into three groups—four birds at the front, four in the middle, and four at the back. Under Blackie’s guidance, each bird took their designated position along the lion’s body, their claws sinking deep into his hide.

"Are you all ready?" Blackie, the woodpecker, called out.

"Yes, sir!" they responded in unison.

"On the count of three, we lift! One... two... three—go!"

As one, the twelve birds flapped their wings with all their might. Slowly, the lion’s massive body began to rise. Wobbling at first, they steadied themselves before gradually gaining altitude. With coordinated effort, they carried their unconscious captive toward the mountain, their formation maintaining a linear path through the sky.

Watching from a distance, John couldn’t help but admire their teamwork. His sharp eyes followed their synchronized flight, and a chuckle escaped his beak.

"Good, good!" he murmured, nodding in satisfaction.

Then, as he observed the scene from afar, a wistful thought crossed his mind. The way the birds lifted the lion in perfect harmony... it reminded him of something.

A helicopter.

John smirked, a wave of nostalgia washing over him. "What a sight to behold... From here, it looks just like a helicopter back on Earth. Damn... now I’m feeling sentimental."

For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to indulge in the memory—before shaking it off and refocusing on the hunt.

I’m a bird now. There’s no point in reminiscing about my days as a human. This world is brutal—only the strong survive. And if that’s the rule... then I’ll play along.

Until the day I burn it all down.

John’s gaze darkened with resolve.

Meanwhile, the ape had been watching everything unfold. His eyes widened in shock, his entire body stiff with terror. It took a moment before he snapped back to his senses, shaking his head violently.

"Joining this scouting mission was the worst mistake of my life... especially under that dumb-ass leader," he muttered, his voice laced with regret. "Damn it, I actually miss my prison cell. At least back there, all I had to do was sit around and eat. But here? Here, I can’t even tell if I’m dealing with regular birds or goddamn demonic birds."

He groaned, rubbing his temples.

"Ugh... I miss those boring, peaceful days."

Then he shut his eyes and activated the bloodline technique he had been gradually igniting all this time.

Suddenly, his black fur bristled as a powerful aura erupted from his body. His form began to swell, muscles expanding, bones stretching, until he towered at twelve feet tall. A thick brown armor, forged purely from his internal energy, encased him like a living fortress.

"Diamond Vajra Form—successfully activated." He muttered, clenching his fists as energy surged through his veins. "I’ve got two and a half minutes. That’s all."

With a war cry, he charged into the labyrinth of bonfires. The searing heat licked at his armored body, but he didn’t falter. Flames parted as he plowed through the inferno, splintering burning firewood underfoot. There was no turning back now.

John, watching from above, smirked. "Oh? That’s interesting. So, that’s your trump card—Vajra Form of the ape! If my guess is right, even those flames won’t melt it too fast."

His eyes gleamed with amusement as he continued. "He’s already passed the Seventh Ring of Flame... and still pushing toward the sixth. Maybe he’ll make it through... but let’s make things more interesting."

Meanwhile, the flock of birds carried the massive lion, weaving through the inferno. Passing the First Ring of Flame, they finally reached the foot of the mountain, their burden still intact.

Shardah Franca, the silver wolf, lay at the mountain’s base. His sharp eyes flicked upward as he caught sight of his unconscious young master being carried by twelve birds.

Shardah’s ears perked at the mockingbird’s sudden command, his heart sinking.

Without delay, the parrots soared through the smoke-filled sky, their fiery breaths cascading down like a crimson rain. The last five safe passages in the fifth ring of flame ignited, sealing the labyrinth once more.

The silver wolf’s sharp eyes flicked toward Mario.

"That idiot really made it this far..." he muttered. "But it ends here."

John’s voice echoed across the mountain like a haunting melody. "No cheaters allowed in my game."

Shardah gritted his teeth, his mind racing. The ape had fought his way through the flames, driven by desperation—but now he was trapped with nowhere to go.

With measured steps, the wolf continued his ascent. The further he climbed, the heavier the air became—thick with both heat and tension.

John watched him from his perch, his golden eyes glinting with amusement.

"Welcome to my little kingdom, Shardah," the mockingbird murmured. "Let’s see if your cunning can outlast your fear."

"Birds, close the fifth ring of flame." He added.

After dropping the lion, they responded and flew away.