Chapter 15 Silver Wings

Bubble was caught off guard as its talons met the woodpecker's talons in a fierce clash, both striking with equal force.

The revelation that its strength matched the renowned talons of a woodpecker sent a ripple of excitement through its tiny frame. It had planned to block the attack, take minimal damage, and counter with a water bubble to the face.

But something unexpected happened—the sheer satisfaction of the clash made Bubble's ego swell beyond reason. Emboldened by this newfound power, it decided to hold off on its ranged attacks, savoring the moment and the chance to humiliate its opponent up close.

"Now even your claws are worthless against mine," Bubble sneered, circling the woodpecker with an air of smug superiority. "What else can you try, hmm? Come on, show me!"

The woodpecker ignored the taunt, focusing instead on its plan. Its goal of engaging Bubble in melee combat was unfolding as it had hoped. Yet, it couldn't deny its own surprise—how had this tiny sparrow, with its weak-looking frame, managed to parry a claw strike launched with such force and momentum?

Unfazed, the woodpecker sidestepped mid-air with a powerful flap and launched another claw strike, swiftly following it with a heavy wing strike.

Bubble, exploiting its smaller frame, darted and bounced effortlessly, meeting each attack with precision. It parried claws with claws, wings with wings, and the two birds spun in a dazzling aerial duel.

Their movements were so swift and precise that it was almost unbelievable. No one watching could have guessed birds could fight this way.

Bubble continued to taunt, its voice dripping with disdain. "Where's all that big talk about fighting fair and defeating me? Don't tell me this is all you've got. Need some motivation? Take a look around! Do you see anyone here who dares to match me? You woodpeckers strutted in with your heads high, but now that I'm on the stage, none of you can even scratch me!"

Despite its bravado, the woodpecker's confidence was eroding. Every clash exposed Bubble's superiority in physical combat. No weakness revealed itself; instead, the sparrow seemed untouchable.

Desperation drove the woodpecker to its trump card—its beak. Feinting with its talons, it suddenly lunged, delivering a precise peck to Bubble's left wing. Feathers scattered, and a bead of blood followed.

Bubble chirped in pain, retreating with a quick bounce. But the woodpecker refused to relent, pursuing relentlessly and raining down beak strikes with newfound vigor.

"Good! At least this annoyingly egotistical bird is getting a taste of humility," John muttered lazily, leaning back as his eyes sparkled with interest. "Now, let's see… will you finally learn the power of unity, Bubble?"

Sensing the tide turning, Bubble changed tactics. It began bouncing erratically mid-air, using its agility to mislead the heavier woodpecker. Its movements were sharp, almost mocking, as it stayed just out of reach. For a moment, it seemed ready to deliver one of its infamous taunts—but then it froze, its instincts screaming danger.

From the shadows, three parrots surged toward Bubble's blind spot, their sharp claws glinting under the faint light. Their intent was clear: to inflict damage and prove their worth. Each parrot moved with determined precision as if trying to tell Bubble it should take pride in them being part of the flock.

But the assault didn't stop there. Four sparrows darted into the fray from seemingly nowhere, their movements swift and brutal. Their beaks and claws struck in ruthless succession, a barrage of ferocity that even Bubble couldn't fully evade.

"Huh, nice battle instincts, Bubble," John murmured, a hint of thrill creeping into his tone as he observed the sparrow struggling under the unexpected onslaught. "But those sparrows… damn, they're agile and brutal."

One sparrow managed to land a particularly vicious strike, its claws raking across Bubble's back. A small flurry of white feathers scattered into the air, stark against the dimly lit cave.

The sparrow chirped, its voice laced with both anger and resolve. "Do you regret it, Bubble? You betrayed the family. Now you'll face the wrath of your kin. You think you're special, don't you? Well, here's a harsh truth—we're sparrows too. It won't be long before we awaken the same abilities you boast of. Stop being stubborn and apologize. There's still room for forgiveness."

John raised a brow, smirking at the heartfelt plea. "Wow! The sparrow family sure knows how to deliver a tough-love speech. Too bad they don't know Bubble like I do. To it, their words are nothing more than trumpet blasts behind an elephant."

Bubble didn't dignify the sparrow's words with a chirp. To it, their pleas were no more than the distant hum of stinky farts. It focused entirely on the battle, weaving through the onslaught with remarkable agility. Using its small frame and sharp reflexes, it evaded the relentless attacks of parrots, and sparrows, and the deadly precision of the woodpecker's strikes.

John's gaze narrowed, his amusement shifting to contemplation. "Hmm, something's off… If I'm not mistaken, Bubble isn't just fighting back. It's honing its skills—maybe using the blood rush of this battle to further cleanse the Mark of Foreboding World Laws or testing its limits. Maybe both."

He paused, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Whatever the hell it's doing, it's working perfectly."

The battle above was chaotic, an aerial war of will and skill. Bubble, the golden mouse, darted through the air with uncanny agility, taunting and evading its pursuers with a calculated mix of bravado and strategy. Around it, the flock attacked relentlessly, each bird fueled by a shared determination—to prove their worth and to humble the self-absorbed sparrow. They weren't just fighting for dominance; they were fighting for respect, for their place in the Sky Dominating Clan.

Meanwhile, down below, two woodpeckers fought their own grueling battle. Blackie, leading the charge, pecked into the unforgiving stone wall with single-minded determination. Their beaks carved deep holes as they climbed inch by agonizing inch, their muscles straining with every movement. They weren't bats, and scaling such a steep surface was a slow and painful process.

But their resolve never wavered. Every scrape, every strained pull, every labored breath only steeled their determination. Blackie and its companion understood the stakes—they had to rejoin the fight, no matter the cost.

At last, Blackie reached the midsection of the cave wall, hanging precariously downward, claws gripping the rugged stone as it waited for a chance to strike. The sound of wings and battle echoed in the cavern, its anticipation building with every passing second.

Then, as if fate had aligned itself with its intent, Bubble darted past their position, chased relentlessly by the other birds.

Blackie acted without hesitation. Letting go of the wall, it plunged downward, wings snapping open in a desperate attempt to stabilize its fall. The lingering anti-flying effect still stifled its flight, but Blackie used its wings for balance and speed, careening through the air like a falling arrow.

It missed Bubble by a hair but managed to clamp its beak onto the tail feathers of a passing parrot.

The parrot squawked indignantly. "Let go of my beautiful tail! I've no quarrel with you or your woodpecker clan anymore!"

But Blackie didn't budge. It had invested too much effort to back down now. Though the parrot flapped harder, trying to keep up with the sparrow, its pace faltered under Blackie's weight.

Amid the chaos, something strange stirred within Blackie. A peculiar sensation bubbled up, compelling it to shut out the world around it and focus inward.

Every scrape of the climb, every ounce of willpower it had expended, surged through its veins. The sheer exhilaration of finally joining the fray sent its blood coursing forward, pounding against the Mark on its head.

A familiar mechanical voice chimed in John's mind.

["Blackie, The Woodpecker is Experiencing a Skill Invocation Situation. Do You Want to Pry Into and Learn Its Skill?"]

"My god! Are you even asking? This is way too interesting to waste time! Link me already," John exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement.

The response was unexpected.

["Linkage Failed. Error!"]

"What? Seriously?" John's enthusiasm faltered, frustration creeping in. "I can't even vent right now. Shit, I really need to stop getting my hopes up so quickly."

The voice returned.

["The Mental Linkage Succeeded!"]

"Oh, finally! But damn, this thing is so unreliable," John muttered.

Suddenly, his consciousness was drawn into the bird's experience. It wasn't forceful—it was seamless as if John were inhabiting Blackie's mind. He felt the parrot's feathers gripped in Blackie's beak, the rush of blood surging through the woodpecker's body, and the intensity of its singular focus.

Blackie instinctively funneled the storm of blood toward the Mark on its head. The pressure diminished as the blood climbed upward, but the faintest trickle reached the Mark, piercing the clouded barrier surrounding it.

In that instant, Blackie's entire being was flooded with euphoria. A wave of energy rippled outward from the Mark, cleansing its body and invigorating its soul. Alongside this surge came an enlightenment—a dreamlike vision of a skill.

The skill unfolded before Blackie's eyes in vivid detail, sometimes slowing to a crawl, other times racing by in a blur. Each fragment etched itself deep into its consciousness, a kaleidoscope of potential and power assembling piece by piece.

For Blackie, this was not merely a moment of revelation—it was the dawn of something extraordinary.

Time seemed to stretch and contract in that surreal moment. What lasted only a heartbeat, in reality, felt like an endless journey down a tunnel of awakening for both Blackie and John. Words could never encapsulate the magnitude of this experience.

As abruptly as it began, the moment ended. John's consciousness snapped back into his own body, his mind buzzing with the echoes of what he had just witnessed. Blackie, too, emerged from the trance-like state, its sharp eyes gleaming with newfound resolve.

"Damn!" John exhaled, rubbing his temples. "That was one hell of a dangerous trip. I'll be more careful next time… if there is a next time." His lips curled into a grin. "Still, totally worth it. Ha! Blackie, I don't know how much of that skill you managed to grasp with your little bird brain, but even a scrap of it could turn this whole game upside down."

His gaze shifted to Bubble, the sparrow still weaving through the chaos, a determined glint in its eyes as it led the fray.

"Careful now, my little psycho," John muttered with a sly chuckle. "If Blackie's clever enough to pull even a sliver of that skill off, you might just find yourself in some real trouble. Anyway, let's see how this plays out."

Blackie's eyes glittered like silver, sharp and reflective, reminiscent of sunlight glinting off a blade. The parrot beneath it squawked incessantly, complaining about the extra weight and labeling Blackie a troublemaker. It flapped harder, trying to shake the stubborn woodpecker off its tail, but Blackie's beak held firm, refusing to yield.

Finally, with a chirp that sounded suspiciously like a mocking thanks for the ride, Blackie released its grip. Hovering momentarily, it craned its head upward and let out a screech that echoed through the cavern. The sound seemed to ripple through the air, as if announcing something monumental.

In the next instant, a metallic sheen spread across its wings, growing outward like liquid steel solidifying around its feathers. Each feather became sharp-edged and silvery, producing a distinct clinking sound as Blackie flapped its wings.

For the first time since the anti-flying curse struck, Blackie soared.

It chirped in unrestrained joy, reveling in the exhilaration of flight. The metallic sheen of its wings caught the dim cave light, making it look like a miniature warrior armed for battle.

The other birds froze mid-flight, their eyes wide with a mix of bewilderment, jealousy, and grudging admiration. For a brief moment, the chaos stilled, all eyes on Blackie's airborne triumph.

Bubble, however, looked on with a spark of amusement. It chirped once, almost dismissively, and flitted higher into the air as if daring Blackie to catch up.

From below, the second woodpecker finally pulled itself to the midsection of the wall. Panting but triumphant, it chirped, "You've done it, brother! Don't wait for me—I'll awaken my skill soon enough and join you!"

The parrots and sparrows begrudgingly followed suit, their chirps carrying reluctant congratulations for Blackie's accomplishment.

John leaned back, watching the unfolding drama with a mix of amusement and intrigue. "Nice one, Blackie," he said, smirking. "But if this is your best, Bubble is still ten steps ahead of you. That sparrow's a real pain, but next time..." His smirk deepened. "I'm definitely prying into that douche's mind. Let's see what secrets it's hiding."