Chapter 5: Wings of Vengeance, Blood of the Fallen

The Sacred Bloom Grove was a place of peace. But tonight, it would become a battlefield.

The air crackled with unseen tension. The glowing spirit flowers shivered, their petals curling inward as if sensing the bloodshed to come.

Arjun stood at the center of the clearing, wings half-spread, golden feathers reflecting the faint light of the healing lotus where the girl lay.

His sharp eyes scanned the darkened forest.

They're here.

He could feel them — dozens of killing intents, cold and sharp as daggers, slithering toward the clearing from every direction.

The assassins of the Black Fang Society. Experts in silent death. Hunters of beasts and men alike.

They had come prepared.

---

First Blood

The first attacker moved like a shadow — a thin figure dressed entirely in black, mask covering his face, blades glinting faintly in both hands.

Without a sound, he leaped from the treetops, aiming for the unconscious girl.

Arjun reacted instantly.

With a single flap of his massive wings, he blasted a shockwave outward, uprooting bushes and sending the assassin tumbling midair.

Before the man could recover, Arjun was upon him.

A blur of golden fury.

One talon slashed downward — a clean, brutal strike — and the assassin's body hit the ground in two broken halves.

Blood soaked the earth.

---

From the trees, other assassins hissed commands.

"Attack together!"

"Bind his wings!"

"Poison the beast if you must!"

Dozens of figures surged forward, brandishing nets woven with spiritual energy, daggers coated in black venom, chains that pulsed with sealing runes.

Arjun's heart pounded.

He could not afford to let a single one of them near the girl.

He roared — a deep, thunderous sound that shook the very trees.

The spirit beasts of the grove — the foxes, the rabbits, the serpents — scattered in fear.

But the old healer remained where he sat by the lotus blossom, eyes closed in deep meditation, maintaining the fragile healing ritual.

"You must hold, golden one," the healer murmured without looking. "For if she dies, so does your chance."

Chance? Chance at what?

Arjun had no time to ask.

The assassins struck.

---

The Dance of Death

The first wave came fast — Three assassins from the left, two from the right, one from directly above.

They coordinated perfectly, as if sharing a single murderous mind.

But Arjun was faster.

He pivoted sharply, wings slicing through the air with deadly precision. His left wing clipped one attacker mid-leap, sending him crashing into a thorned tree.

He ducked under a poisoned chain, talons crushing the ribcage of a masked killer who got too close.

Above, a rain of throwing knives descended.

Arjun spun — Golden feathers shot outward like darts of light, intercepting the knives midair, deflecting them harmlessly into the dirt.

But there were too many enemies.

Chains wrapped around his left wing, yanking hard.

Arjun shrieked in fury, pulling with all his strength.

Muscles strained.

Feathers tore.

But he refused to fall.

With a savage jerk, he dragged the chain-bearers closer — and slammed them together with a bone-breaking crash.

Two more enemies dead.

---

But not all enemies fought with steel.

From the treeline, a woman in red robes chanted low and fast, her hands weaving complex sigils in the air.

Dark smoke rose from the ground, twisting into the form of a giant shadow serpent.

The serpent lunged, fangs wide, aiming for the healing lotus.

Arjun's eyes blazed.

No magic would touch her while he breathed.

He launched himself forward — crashing into the serpent with a force like a falling mountain.

The illusion shattered with a howl — but the backlash of spiritual energy rocked Arjun, making him stagger.

Blood trickled from his beak.

He was strong — far stronger…

(End of Chapter 5)