Thunder Wings! Madara's Raven

When its wings were fully spread, they nearly spanned the entire cage, the tips of its secondary flight feathers curving into sharp, dagger-like points.

With that movement, a gale suddenly swept through the cage. The floating clouds churned violently, and a pale bolt of lightning struck down, only to be absorbed by the runes on the cage bars an inch above the raven's head, bursting into a string of crackling sparks.

"See those marks?" The shopkeeper pointed at the inside of the cage.

The metal surface was covered in tiny dents and charred spots.

"It tried to break out at least three times a day. Its previous three owners—two ended up at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, while the third was so frightened he moved to a Muggle city and swore never to touch magical creatures again."

After saying that, the shopkeeper looked at Madara.

Whenever any wizard had approached from this distance before, the raven would unleash a violent display of lightning.

But now—

The cage was deathly silent.

Only those two clusters of crimson fire trembled violently.

Madara did not move. He merely raised his eyes slightly and stared at the outline in the shadows.

"Crack."

A soft sound came from inside the cage.

The small thundercloud hovering above the raven's head suddenly broke apart at one corner without warning. Lightning skittered wildly, but it was feeble and powerless.

From within the shadows came the harsh scrape of talons against the perch as the giant bird shifted its stance—

And beneath that sound was a trace of tension, almost impossible to detect.

The old shopkeeper held his breath.

He had run a magical creature shop for decades. He had seen countless ferocious magical creatures, tamed fire-breathing lizards, and soothed enraged Hippogriffs.

But he had never seen anything like this—

This beast, which even the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Creature Management and Control specialists could do nothing about and had classified as "high-risk and untamable," was actually showing wariness and... hesitation beneath a child's silent gaze?

Madara looked at the restless raven and lifted his chin.

"Are you still planning to hide in the shadows?"

His voice was soft, yet it pierced the air like an ice pick.

"You weak piece of trash."

The instant his words fell—

The single Magatama in his Sharingan suddenly began to spin faster!

There was no incantation, no wave of a wand.

Yet an incomparably vast, bone-chilling field of spiritual pressure exploded outward from Madara—

Then abruptly withdrew!

It lasted so briefly that it seemed like an illusion.

But in that instant—

The Ancient Runes seals on the cage bars lit up wildly as though provoked! They emitted an overloaded hum!

Every glass vessel in the shop trembled at once! Fine cracks spread across them in an instant!

More than a dozen owls on the shelves shrank their necks in terror and let out shrill cries!

The Crups in their cages tucked their tails tight and collapsed to the ground, whimpering miserably!

Even the fiercest Kneazle bristled all over, backing away in terror and knocking over the feed bowl behind it!

And that enormous raven—

Let out a shriek sharper than any it had ever made before!

It was not a threat, but more like the instinctive cry of a creature facing mortal danger!

It could no longer remain hidden. Its massive body suddenly emerged completely from the shadows!

Its wings spread with a crash, every blue-violet feather with its metallic matte sheen standing on end! Dense arcs of electricity crackled and exploded, instantly illuminating the depths of the shop!

Its crimson vertical pupils stared fixedly at Madara.

But beneath its rage, there was also a trace of... alarm.

It could feel it—

What a vast and terrifying spiritual world those crimson eyes were connected to.

This was not magical power built through a wizard's meditation, but an almost tangible pressure forged from countless battles, killings, and conquests.

The instinct within its Thunderbird bloodline boiled and screamed—

It was anger.

And also... fear of a predator from a higher rank.

"Merlin's suspenders..."

The old shopkeeper had to press himself against the wall with all his strength just to keep from collapsing.

Even though it had lasted only an instant, he had still sensed what the boy had emitted just now...

That was not an aura a human should possess.

His heart pounded violently.

"This child..." he muttered, his voice trembling. "What exactly is living... inside him?"

Outside the window, thick leaden clouds had gathered over London at some point.

Dull thunder rumbled faintly, yet not a single drop of rain fell.

It was as though the entire sky was holding its breath in silence for the will of something that should not exist in this world.

Madara seemed completely unaware of the changes around him.

He looked at the remaining thundercloud above the raven's head, a faint curve appearing at the corner of his mouth that chilled the old shopkeeper to the marrow.

"Thunderbird bloodline?"

He repeated it softly, his tone carrying a hint of almost mocking amusement.

"What, where you come from, being able to discharge electricity..."

He paused, his crimson eyes looking directly at the raven.

"...is some remarkable trait?"

After saying that—

He took a step forward.

The remaining thundercloud above the raven's head exploded completely!

A pale bolt of lightning several times thicker than before crashed straight toward Madara's face with an explosive roar that tore through the air!

However—

The instant it entered within three feet of Madara, the lightning seemed to strike an invisible, warped wall and was forcibly deflected!

Boom—!!

An empty iron cage nearby was blasted to pieces, metal fragments scattering everywhere!

Madara did not even blink.

He continued forward.

One step, then another.

Until the tip of his nose nearly touched the cold cage bars.

Now, only the rune-inscribed metal separated him from the raven.

The raven's vertical pupils shrank to pinpoints, reflecting the slowly rotating Magatama.

The arcs around its body began to falter—flaring violently one moment, then suddenly extinguishing the next, revealing the intense struggle in its heart.

Its proud, violent instincts were being dismantled by a deeper force of suppression... one that came from bloodline and soul.

Madara made no threatening gesture.

He did not even release any more pressure.

Yet he simply stood there, calmly watching it.

And that was more oppressive than any spell or threat.

The shop was deathly quiet.

Every magical creature had stopped crying out and huddled in the deepest corners of their cages, trembling.

The old shopkeeper leaned against the wall, pale-faced, even breathing carefully.

Only the disorderly arcs within the cage continued to crackle softly.

Madara finally spoke.

His voice was not loud, yet it seemed to resound directly within the raven's soul.

"Make your choice."

He raised a hand, his fingertip pointing through the cage bars at the raven's crimson eyes.

"Follow me,"

His voice was calm and level, yet it carried an unquestionable judgment.

"Or—"

"With that worthless pride of yours,"

"Stay here."

"And keep rotting away."

The raven's wings slowly folded.

The arcs around its body gradually went out.

Those crimson vertical pupils remained fixed on Madara.

Time seemed to freeze.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

The raven let out a string of deep, trembling throat sounds.

Its massive head lowered with difficulty, bit by bit...

The crest it had held high for seven years, which had pecked countless wizards and scorned all attempts at taming, slowly folded and bowed low.

At last, it gently pressed its beak against the cold floor of the cage—

An unmistakable gesture of submission.

The runes on the cage bars, which had been flashing madly, seemed to suddenly lose their target. Their light quickly dimmed and went out.

Layer by layer.

When the final layer of runes extinguished—

The oppressive field of silence that had shrouded the birdcage for years quietly dissipated.

The cage door slid open without a sound.

The raven spread its wings and slowly flew out of the cage.

It was even larger than it had appeared inside, its wingspan taking up nearly a third of the shop's width.

Every feather flowed with a metallic sheen, while its crimson eyes burned like flames in the dim light.

It did not fly away.

Instead, it slowly landed on the counter beside Madara, folded its wings, and stood quietly.

Madara slowly raised his right hand, palm facing the raven's head.

The raven merely tilted its head to look at the hand, then voluntarily leaned in and let its crest brush gently against Madara's palm.

The skin beneath its feathers was warm, pulsing with vigorous life.

Madara rubbed the raven's head in satisfaction. The raven narrowed its eyes as tiny arcs leaped at the moment of contact, then immediately faded.

The raven gently nuzzled the boy's palm. It liked the scent of Madara's magic.

Madara withdrew his hand, and the Magatama in his Sharingan returned to their calm rotation.

"From today onward,"

Madara looked at it, its matching crimson eyes reflected in his own.

"Your name—"

"Will be 'Heaven's Judgment.'"

The raven—Heaven's Judgment—let out a clear cry.

As though answering to its name.

Outside the window, the leaden clouds slowly parted.

A strand of golden sunset pierced through the clouds and spilled into the shop.

It illuminated Madara's calm profile.

And it illuminated the crimson in the raven's eyes, no longer violent, holding only quiet flames.