Kapitel 35: Chapter 35: Nah I'd Win

The raven was staggering now, its sleek black feathers tattered and stained with blood. Each frantic beat of its wings grew weaker, its movements sluggish and predictable. The rotten birds surrounded it like a pack of jackals, their decaying forms twisting unnaturally as they prepared for the final strike. The raven, its body riddled with pain and exhaustion, could no longer dodge their relentless attacks. Every claw, every beak, tore through the air with precision, leaving the raven wounded and trembling in the shifting sands of the desert.

It should have been afraid. It should have felt despair creeping into its heart. But instead, the raven began to laugh.

"Hahahah!!"

The sound was sharp and haunting, cutting through the din of screeching predators. It was a laugh that spoke of defiance, of knowing something its enemies did not. The rotten birds hesitated for a brief moment, their glowing eyes flickering with confusion as the raven's laughter echoed across the dunes. It was a sound that didn't belong in the face of certain death.

Through ragged breaths, the raven muttered, its voice hoarse but laced with a chilling edge, "Just what I needed...Now die!."

As the last word left its beak, the raven's eyes changed. The once-dark orbs turned a fiery red, and at the center of each, a strange circle pupil burned like molten steel. Around the pupil, four smaller circles materialized, spinning in eerie synchronization. The desert seemed to hold its breath as the transformation took hold, the atmosphere growing heavy with an unexplainable force.

The moment the raven's gaze locked onto the rotten birds, time itself seemed to halt. The wind ceased to stir the sands, the faint hum of the desert vanished, and even the burning sun seemed frozen in place. The rotten birds, mid-lunge and screech, were suspended in unnatural stillness. The air grew cold, thick with an ominous energy.

And then, the screaming began.

The rotten birds dropped from the sky like stones, their decaying bodies convulsing violently as they hit the ground. Their cries were deafening, unearthly, and filled with a terror that even they could not comprehend. The sand beneath them quaked with their anguish, the vibrations rippling outward like waves. The sound pierced the silence of the desert, a cacophony that seemed to come from deep within their very being.

The raven stood in the eye of the storm, unmoving, its glowing red eyes fixed on its enemies. The rotten birds writhed and twisted, their movements grotesque and unnatural, as if some unseen force was burrowing into their minds. Their skeletal wings flailed, their claws raked at nothing, and their hollow eyes burned with a madness they could not escape.

The desert trembled beneath their agony, the ground cracking and shifting as if it too sought to flee from the horror unfolding. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the screams stopped. Silence fell over the land, heavy and suffocating. One by one, the rotten birds collapsed, their bodies stilling in death. Whatever force had seized them had utterly consumed them, leaving their twisted forms lifeless in the sand.

The raven stood amidst the carnage, its breathing shallow but steady. The glow in its eyes faded, the circles disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. For a moment, the only sound was the faint rustle of sand settling back into place.

It glanced around, taking in the field of fallen enemies. The once-overwhelming force that had hunted it was no more. The raven tilted its head, a faint smirk playing on its beak as it muttered, "Fools"

Above, more ravens began to gather, their dark forms dotting the sky like shadows come to life. They perched on the jagged rocks and skeletal remains of the desert, their eyes gleaming with quiet understanding. They had come not out of pity, but out of recognition for this was no ordinary raven. This was a force of nature, a harbinger of something far greater than they could comprehend.

"Such a pity, not all of them died", it said in a sad tone.

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The raven deliberately held back its powers because it noticed that not all the rotten birds were attacking at once. While some pursued it relentlessly, others lingered at a distance, watching and analyzing the situation. These observing rotten birds were cautious, ensuring there was no hidden danger before committing to an attack. If the raven had revealed its abilities too soon, these watchers would have recognized the threat and likely stayed away, making it impossible to eliminate them all at once.

Understanding this, the raven devised a strategy. It intentionally feigned weakness, allowing the attacking rotten birds to believe it was vulnerable while enduring their relentless strikes. This display of apparent helplessness was designed to convince the distant observers that it posed no threat. Once the watchers concluded the raven was powerless and began to join the fray, the raven's plan fell into place. With almost all the rotten birds gathered in one spot, the raven unleashed its full power, destroying them in a single decisive move.

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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the desert in hues of red and gold, the raven spread its wings. It was battered, bruised, and bloodied, but it stood tall, a dark silhouette against the dying light. The desert, once filled with the cries of the hunt, was now silent, save for the faint sound of the wind. And in that silence,

Only One Survived...