Wings Of Deception
Chapter 52 Beast Alliance Summit

Chapter 52: Chapter 52 Beast Alliance Summit

It was a bright, aesthetic summer morning—alive with anticipation, energy, and the buzzing excitement of powerful beings gathering in one place.

The Beasts Alliance Summit was officially underway.

Near the capital of the Three Fangs Kingdom, a newly constructed town had sprung up, surrounding the colossal and mysterious Hollow Giant Willow Tree. This massive willow, standing at the center of the town, had not existed more than a week ago. It had been conjured—grown unnaturally fast through ancient magic and spiritual craftsmanship.

Previously, the reincarnated beasts of the Sanctuary had hidden their existence, operating from the shadows, avoiding cultivators and their political entanglements. But the winds of change had arrived. Something had occurred beyond the sanctuary borders—an event strong enough to shake the foundation of the outside world.

Clans and sects from beyond had begun entering the sanctuary en-masse, taking refuge or possibly seeking something. And so, the reincarnated beasts realized: hiding was no longer an option. Their power had matured, their alliances were forming, and it was finally time to step into the light.

Frassure Mufasa, the lion-blooded King of the Three Fangs Kingdom, had ordered the creation of a proper resort—grand enough to host the summit and majestic enough to honor the beast clans’ pride. He had summoned powerful beasts with elemental affinities for wood and earth, experts in construction, infrastructure, and ancient architecture. And they had delivered beyond expectations.

Now, dozens of Renaissance-style buildings stood in orderly formation around the giant willow, their artistic carvings gleaming in the morning sun. Flowery decorations graced every rooftop and street corner—roses, sunblossoms, and exotic blooms from across the sanctuary. The entire town was a tapestry of color and vibrance.

Hundreds of beast citizens stood on the decorated streets, ready to welcome the arriving guests.

And soon, the first delegation arrived.

A rhythmic thrum echoed through the air—apes pounding their ceremonial drums, while others blew deep, haunting horns made from the bones of ancient creatures.

From high in the sky, ten massive crows flew in formation, their black feathers glinting with a dark, fiery sheen. The crowd instinctively hushed in awe.

At the forefront of the welcoming party stood a voluptuous woman with emerald-green eyes and a serpent tattoo coiling across her forehead. She stepped forward with a confident smile.

"I, Valleryl of the Snake Clan, welcome the honored guests from the Blazing Crow Clan of the West. Your presence graces us. Please, enter."

The crows circled once before descending in unison. As they landed, they morphed seamlessly into their human forms—seven men, three women, all adorned in deep crimson robes embroidered with flame motifs. Their leader, a tall man with glowing red eyes and raven-black hair streaked with silver, gave a silent nod to Valleryl, then walked forward without a word.

The others followed him as they moved toward the central structure—a majestic palace-like building standing right before the trunk of the Hollow Giant Willow Tree. Its doors were carved from the willow’s own bark, humming with spiritual energy.

From every corner of the street, beasts in their humanoid or true forms cried out in their own tongues—roars, chirps, growls, trills—as a sign of respect and welcome.

And so, the first guests entered.

But they would not be the last.

Not long after, the next delegation arrived—from the Southeast of the Sanctuary—the Iron Bull Clan.

A strange sound echoed above the town. The thunder of heavy hooves—but not from the ground. From the sky.

Hundreds of massive bulls marched through the clouds, their armored forms blotting out the sun. The town looked up in awe as the great herd descended, shaking the streets as they landed. Fifteen of the largest bulls shifted into their human forms, clad in bronze and crimson, and proceeded directly toward the grand hall beneath the Hollow Giant Willow Tree.

The rest of the bulls remained among the crowd. Native beasts stepped forward to greet them, exchanging introductions and pleasantries while offering refreshments—platters of fruit, roasted meats, and wine fermented from ancient spirit herbs.

Then... silence.

No other delegations arrived for some time. The sun climbed higher, pouring scorching beams of heat across the town square. Beasts fanned themselves, shifted uncomfortably, and murmured complaints.

Two hours passed.

Frustration stirred among the crowd.

"Maybe no one else is coming," someone muttered.

"Shut up!" Valleryl of the Snake Clan snapped, her voice laced with venom. "A distinguished guest from the Illuminati Clan of the Central Valley is about to arrive. Show some respect. Lower your heads—do not make eye contact!"

The atmosphere shifted in an instant. Murmurs died. All the beasts lowered their heads without hesitation.

A cold gust of wind swept through the town.

Then, without sound or warning, a tall figure descended—barefoot, completely cloaked in black. As she landed, another breeze stirred the air, peeling back her hood for the briefest moment.

A collective shiver ran through those present.

The face revealed beneath the hood was ethereal—pale white skin, hair like woven silver, and eyes glinting with quiet danger. Upon her forehead gleamed a tattoo of a nine-tailed snow fox, exquisitely etched in pure white ink.

The woman scanned the bowed crowd. No one looked up.

She exhaled softly. "Lucky. If anyone had looked... I would’ve had to kill them."

Then the wind surged again—stronger this time—and her form vanished, dissolving into shadow and air.

A moment later, Valleryl spoke again, her voice calm but firm. "The respected guest has long gone. You may raise your heads."

Everyone exhaled at once.

Even though the guest from the Illuminati Clan had only whispered, her words had echoed in every beast’s ears—sharp and clear. One of the many perks of being reborn as beasts was their heightened senses.

The entire assembly looked at Valleryl with profound gratitude. Her warning may have saved hundreds of lives.

Just as the crowd began to disperse, Valleryl raised her voice again.

"Halt! No one is leaving yet!"

All movement stopped. Beasts turned to face her.

A black chimpanzee stepped forward, scratching his neck with a scowl. "It’s scorching hot, and there’s no more guests to receive. Lady Valleryl, we have other duties—"

"There’s one more guest left," she said firmly. "And no one is leaving until he arrives."

The crowd stirred again, curious now.

"He’s a good friend of His Highness Damien Mufasa, the King’s younger brother. He personally requested that we show him warmth and respect. No one is frowning, or I’ll feed you my poison."

A few chuckles were stifled. Most stood straighter.

Just then, a voice boomed from the sky—cheerful yet commanding.

"Ho-ho-ho! So this is the famous Hollow Giant Willow Tree. It’s scorching... black. No offense. It’s cool."

The crowd blinked. Heads turned in every direction, trying to find the source of the voice.

But no one could see him—except Valleryl.

Her eyes fixed on a figure reclining atop a fluffy white cloud, barely distinguishable against the sky.

She immediately bowed and called out, "Welcome, Great Sir John Singer, Founder of the Sky Dominating Clan!"

The other beasts froze, scanning the sky.

John Singer? Sky Dominating Clan?

The names were unfamiliar—foreign even—but none dared to doubt their weight. If this man was truly close to Damien Mufasa, then no one present could afford to underestimate him.

Especially now, when the world itself seemed to be shifting.