At once, the flock of sparrows took flight from their designated region of the mountain, their movents swift and purposeful. As they descended, the air shimred faintly around them—a sign of their water-based elental spells activating.
The sparrows worked thodically, flying in a coordinated dance as they targeted the innermost first ring of the bonfire. Streams of water cascaded down from their wings, extinguishing only the paths they passed through while leaving the rest of the flas to burn. The air hissed as fire t water, but the sparrows didn't falter.
Flying in circles, they moved with precision, weaving through gaps where tall trees still stood defiantly between the burning first and second rings. The flock divided into two groups, each pair carving clear paths through the second ring, leaving only scorched ground behind.
As they reached the third ring, they adjusted their formation. This ti, they divided into three groups—two sparrows in each pair and two solos who had the strongest water-based powers, second only to Bubble. They created three precise paths through the fire, the edges of the flas hissing and crackling as they reluctantly died under the sparrows' relentless spells.
The process continued seamlessly. At the fourth ring, the flock split into four groups, extinguishing four distinct paths. By the fifth ring, they created five paths—one led by a particularly swift sparrow who darted ahead to forge an additional route.
At the sixth ring, their efforts grew even more intricate, with six paths created as two sparrows doubled back to reinforce the clearings.
Finally, they reached the last and outermost ring. Here, they regrouped into three tight formations and circled above the horde of beasts, who stood frozen before the blazing inferno, their fear palpable.
When the sparrows revealed themselves, the horde erupted into a cacophony of angry roars. So beasts taunted the birds with jeers, while others snarled threateningly, their claws digging into the ground.
The sparrows, unbothered, continued their work with quiet efficiency. As a few beasts broke rank and began following them along the ground, the sparrows deftly created three more paths through the seventh bonfire ring, widening the openings and exposing the vulnerable horde to the ominous view of the burning woods beyond.
They completed their task with ticulous precision, the seven paths cutting through the fiery rings like trails of defiance, daring the horde to move forward.
According to the plan, the sparrows were supposed to return after this, but as they prepared to do so, one sparrow chirped angrily. The sound was sharp, like a war cry. The others joined in, their collective chirping growing louder and more enraged. Then, without warning, they rushed out in two groups, diving headfirst into the horde.
With deadly accuracy, they unleashed volleys of water bullets as they flew. Each shot was devastating—those struck by the water bullets exploded into pools of bloody minceat, their bodies unrecognizable. The sparrows continued their assault, regrouping and attacking with precision.
The beasts, caught completely off guard, could do nothing. The birds remained in the air, unreachable and rciless, while the beasts were exposed to the relentless barrage. Panic set in, their survival instincts taking over.
The once-mighty horde dissolved into chaos. Beasts scrambled to escape, trampling over one another in a desperate bid for survival. Their pitiful cries filled the air, mingling with the sound of snapping bones and tearing flesh. The ground was littered with corpses, so crushed in the stampede, others writhing in agony.
Above it all, the sparrows tweeted in delight, their triumphant song rising above the carnage. Their lody told a story—once weak and small, they were no longer prey. Though still small in size, they no longer feared the lumbering beasts that lacked the gift of flight. Their song mocked the beasts for being bound to the earth, boasting of their own mastery of both sky and ground.
One sparrow chirped boldly, "Don't forget the na of the Sky Dominating Clan!"
The other three sparrows echoed in unison, "Sky Dominating Clan!"
From a perch far inside the bonfire rings, Bubble watched the display, its fiery red eyes narrowing. The words of the sparrows echoed in its mind. Jealousy twisted its thoughts, and it whispered to itself, "Sky Dominating Clan... That must be nice."
But this ti, there was no malice in its tone—only admiration.
John, however, caught the whisper. His voice cut through the air, calm yet firm, "No. You can't." He turned his gaze toward Bubble, his eyes sharp. "You're no longer affiliated with the Sparrow Hall. You're the First Head of the Sky Punishing Hall, standing tall over everyone's heads. Mind that."
Bubble flinched at his words, but a hint of pride flickered across its expression, quickly replacing the jealousy.
John turned his attention back to the chaos below, his voice booming like thunder across the mountain. "Now, the final phase of my plan begins." He grinned, his tone dripping with challenge and nace. "My dear, humble, uninvited guests... Here I present the Seven Boonfire Rings of Labyrinth. Dare to step on my mountain."
The mountain stood like a sentinel at the center of the blazing labyrinth. The seven rings of fire glowed ominously, their flickering flas casting eerie shadows over the land. The beasts, their resolve wavering, stared at the mountain with equal parts fear and hatred.
John's laughter echoed across the burning battlefield. The stage was set.
However, the ever-clueless Woodie interrupted, flapping its wings nervously. "Master, the Beautiful Bonfire is completed, but they're starting to run away. Is it even necessary anymore? Are we stopping them?"
John tilted his head, his sharp eyes gleaming with amusent. "You an retreat? Oh, my dear Woodie, who said they're retreating? And no, there's no need to stop them, because—"
Before he could finish, a chorus of three loud roars shattered the air, deep and commanding. The cries were followed by a chilling silence as even the crackling flas seed to quiet in their presence.
John's gaze swept across the battlefield, his sharp eyes spotting the source.
Erging from the chaos were three towering figures: a majestic white tiger with gleaming blue eyes, a sleek silver-gray wolf with a calculating gaze, and a hulking black gorilla radiating brute strength.
"So, they're the ones who brought this horde here," John muttered, his feathers ruffling slightly as he studied the trio.
The roars and cries of the three intelligent beasts rippled through the battlefield, causing the panicked horde to halt in their tracks. The lesser beasts cowered in fear, their primal instincts forcing them to bow their heads. Gradually, the chaos subsided, and the animals began returning to their positions, their resolve seemingly renewed by their leaders.
The white tiger roared again, its commanding tone driving the horde forward. The beasts hesitated but obeyed, moving through the paths carved by the sparrows in the seventh fire ring. The wolf and gorilla mirrored the tiger's actions, their cries pushing the remaining beasts forward.
John's beak curved into a sly grin. "Good. Now the ga begins."
John the mockingbird chirped sharply, signaling the sparrows to return imdiately.
Turning his attention to the parrots, John flapped his wings, commanding their focus. "Parrot Hall, now you have another task."
The parrots, ever excitable, began singing a fiery lody, their voices echoing with enthusiasm. Flas seed to dance in their eyes as their elental nature ignited their spirits.
John sighed, shaking his head. "Alright, alright, you can sing later. Just listen to ." His tone sharpened, demanding their attention. "Once all the beasts are inside the seventh ring of Boonfire, light the paths the sparrows extinguished. Close the ring with fire. Then wait. Do the sa for the next rings after they've crossed, and keep repeating until the last. Do you get ?"
The parrots chirped and nodded eagerly, their excitent undiminished.
"Good," John said with a nod. "Now go and watch from the sky."
The parrots took to the air, their fiery aura trailing behind them like cots. They circled the battlefield, flas burning in their eyes as they waited for the right mont to unleash their fury.
John watched the parrots fly off, his sharp mind already three steps ahead. Everything was unfolding exactly as he planned, and the beasts had no clue they were walking into his trap.
He turned to check on the sparrows, expecting their return—but they were nowhere near their assigned perch. Instead, they were still attacking the beasts. However, this ti, their strikes seed ineffective, as the beasts paid them no mind, too preoccupied with their march toward the seventh fire ring.
John's brow twitched in irritation. "Bubble," he muttered, his voice carrying an edge, "what are you waiting for? Isn't it, your duty to punish those who don't follow my orders?"
Bubble's feathers bristled, and it was just about to take flight when John's sharp tone halted it mid-motion.
"Wait!" John said firmly, narrowing his eyes. "We're still in the middle of dealing with the intruders. You can punish them later. For now, stay where you are and scare them back here with your words. Let's see if the so-called Sky Punishing Hall's First Leader is intimidating enough to handle this."
Bubble tilted its head, its crimson eyes gleaming with pride. "Sure, Master. You are wise beyond my imagination."
Without missing a beat, Bubble let out a shrill, furious chirp. "You damn losers! Co back here imdiately!"
The sharpness of its voice sliced through the air like a blade, etching itself deep into the psyche of the rebellious sparrows. The sheer authority in its tone made them freeze mid-flight. Slowly, they chirped with visible disappointnt and reluctantly flew back, entering the Bonfire Rings and perching on the branch farthest from Bubble's spot.
Once settled, they chirped in unison, their voices synchronized as if rehearsed during their retreat. "Punish us, Master. We got carried away by the thrill of exploding those giant beasts!"
John smirked inwardly. Yes, you did. After all, you're the brothers and sisters of this psycho Bubble.
The image of the sparrows reminded him of warmongering Mongol armies, fearless but reckless. Hmph! Order is order, and you lot broke it. Now, your fates are in the hands—oops, feathers—of your little psycho brother. Good luck with that.
He didn't spare them a glance, choosing to ignore their antics entirely.
Bubble, on the other hand, didn't hold back. "Punish? Damn right, all of you will be punished..." it squeaked in disgust, pausing for dramatic effect. "...After this."
The sparrows let out faint, nervous chirps but remained silent, their heads drooping.
With that, Bubble turned its attention back to the battlefield, where the beasts were cautiously making their way through the seven paths leading into the heart of the seventh Bonfire Ring. Its eyes glead with malice as it waited for the next phase of John's plan to unfold.
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