Wings Of Deception
Chapter 58 Meeting Adjourn

Chapter 58: Chapter 58 Meeting Adjourn

John gulped down a mouthful of grape-wine, then turned his head slowly toward the speaker.

He saw a sincere pleading in the bull-man’s expression—eyes full of unease, yet also respect.

But before John could speak, the black diary he had been absentmindedly flipping through twitched.

Suddenly, three jagged blue electric arcs burst from the book’s pages and slapped him squarely across the chest.

CRACK!

John groaned—softly.

Everyone in the hall froze. The electric burst had looked savage, brutal enough to maim. Yet all he gave was a low groan?

For a brief moment, the entire room tensed, thinking John had turned hostile. But when they realized the arcs had attacked him, not from him, they were struck dumb.

He took that hit without flinching? From that monstrous book?

Fear quietly crept into their hearts.

Whispers stirred beneath the silence.

What kind of monster cultivates his body by willingly enduring that kind of torment?

That book... is punishing him? Is this some kind of masochistic training technique?

They weren’t entirely wrong. The diary’s punishment was indeed tempering John’s physique.

What they didn’t know, however, was why he endured it. If he closed the diary now, the illusion would shatter. He would be forced to return to his mockingbird form—and they would all realize his cultivation wasn’t high enough to maintain a humanoid form, unlike them.

But judging by their reactions, they were buying it. That was enough for John—for now.

He gave a soft cough and looked around the room, his tone calm but firm.

"So... do you all believe I belong in this hall now?" he asked, voice ringing with authority.

"Tell me—does my Sky Dominating Clan qualify for this alliance?"

The bull representative, Munsha Roan, rose to his feet. His voice was clear and respectful.

"Yes, Sir John. You’re more than qualified. Your strength speaks volumes. From this moment on, the Sky Dominating Clan is no longer unknown or simple."

John nodded, then turned his gaze toward the remaining representatives of the Blazing Crow Clan of the West.

"What about you?" he asked. "I’d prefer clarity and... understanding."

There was a weight behind his words. A quiet threat disguised in courtesy.

Only three of the crows remained seated. The rest still floated in watery bubbles, struggling helplessly in midair. The three glanced at their trapped companions, then at John, weighing their options.

One of them, Mysore Aurora, finally stood and spoke.

"I agree with what Munsha said. We were in the wrong for provoking you, and I personally take responsibility for not stopping the disrespect sooner.

Please let this matter rest. The Beast Alliance is too important to derail over pride and tempers."

But Bubble, perched atop John’s head, was not convinced. Her wings twitched. Her eyes were sharp and unforgiving.

She was preparing to strike again.

John calmly raised a hand and said softly, "Let this one go, Bubble."

She remained tense, feathers bristling.

John sighed, then added with a quiet smirk,

"Alright. But next time, I won’t stop you.

You can eat their flesh, and we’ll pack the leftovers for your brothers and sisters back home."

Bubble chirped once—sharp and angry—but closed her eyes at last, her body relaxing only slightly.

The air in the hall grew thick with a strange, inexplicable fear.

Everyone, save for Damien, felt it in their bones—a creeping certainty that John was not joking. If pushed again, the Sky Dominating Clan would feast on their enemies.

Damien, on the other hand, simply broke into hearty laughter.

His brother, Frassure Mufasa, shot him a questioning glance.

"What?" Damien asked telepathically.

"Is this normal?" Frassure asked.

"You’ll get used to it," Damien replied with a grin. Then, more seriously, he added,

"Actually... don’t take this the wrong way, but one of his pets did eat a piece of your son once."

Frassure’s expression darkened.

"What?!"

"Relax. My nephew’s still alive back in the Sky Dominating Clan."

"That’s a matter of prestige, Damien!"

"I’m doing it for his growth," Damien said flatly. "Let it go."

Frassure scowled.

"Fine. But I still don’t like them. And one more thing—if you want to play nice with John, don’t let Fanny hear about this. If he finds out—"

Damien chuckled.

"What could possibly go wrong? Look at him—he’s practically sparkling with admiration for Sir John already. We’ve got a super-fan on our hands."

Their silent exchange ended with both brothers turning their gazes back to John, who now held the full attention of the hall—not out of curiosity, but out of respect, fear, and a growing submission.

John glanced sidelong at Damien. His look said everything without a single word:

"I’ve done my part disciplining them. Now it’s your turn. Say something and end this awkwardness—or I’ll let Bubble turn them into bird feed."

Sighing, then chuckling lightly, Damien stepped forward and announced,

"Alright, enough with the friendly exchange."

There was a pause.

The guests gave him weird looks.

Friendly exchange?

Our clansmen were floating like dried sausages in water, and you call that friendly? What the hell is wrong with this lion?

Still, no one dared say it aloud. Theatrics or not, they were all tired. And most importantly, they didn’t want to tempt fate with John—or the sparrow on his head.

Damien continued casually,

"The Sky Dominating Clan has officially joined our Beast Alliance. Any objections?"

Silence.

He nodded and added,

"Good. Then we’ll wait one week for formal replies from the rest. Meeting adjourned."

With that, the first assembly of the Beast Alliance officially came to an end.

But oddly... no one moved.

John was still at the center table, calmly munching on dried meat and sipping grape wine like nothing had happened. The representatives from the Three Fangs Kingdom, being the hosts, stayed behind out of politeness.

The others?

They all just stood around, glancing at John—but not saying a word.

Sensing the strange atmosphere, John narrowed his eyes. The silence was thick with unspoken thoughts.

He finally snapped,

"What? The meeting’s over. If you want to leave, then leave. I’m not your babysitter—and I’m definitely not the leader of the alliance. Not yet."

Damien cleared his throat.

"John... they’re waiting. For them."

John blinked, then followed Damien’s glance toward the floating captives—the crow-men and bull-men still trapped inside Bubble’s orbs.

"Oh... right. Bubble, let them go."

The little sparrow chirped once—mockingly.

The watery orbs began to spin, floating eerily as if dancing one final time. Then—pop! pop! pop!—each one exploded midair, unceremoniously dropping the disgraced warriors to the cold floor.

The first thing the fallen were about to do, judging by their snarling faces, was curse John to the heavens—

But their comrades acted first.

Thwack! Crack! Thunk!

Each one was struck sharply on the back of the neck by a fellow tribe member, knocking them unconscious before they could speak.

Without missing a beat, their companions scooped up the unconscious and hurriedly carried them out of the hall like wounded cargo.

John watched them leave with a bored expression and casually popped another piece of meat into his mouth.

The room grew quiet once again.

The Beast Alliance had a new member—and everyone would be thinking twice before questioning the Sky Dominating Clan ever again.