That much I know, old hag. Here I thought you despised that bastard, but your speech tells a different story. John's feathers ruffled with disdain. Ha! Still hung up on your ex-disciple, aren't you? Pathetic.
A sneer crept into his thoughts as he added, We're nothing alike. You might chew him up and spit him out, but me? Oh, I'll make sure he wishes for that mercy by the time I'm through with him.
Repressing the swirl of malice bubbling within him, John forced his tone into something resembling nonchalance. "Nah, I'm just a harmless little bird," he said, his beak curving into what he hoped looked like an innocent smile. "That thought never crossed my mind. It's just... chilly here."
His feathers fluffed involuntarily, adding a comical touch that betrayed his attempt at composure.
"Cutesy and a smooth talker too," Maximilian remarked, her lips curling into a sly smile. "This should be an interesting conversation." She shifted in her throne, leaning forward slightly. "Let's not make this awkward. Where do you come from, Mister... Singer?"
"Oh, please, just call me John," he replied with a nervous chuckle. "And about where I come from... let me be straight with you. It's hell."
"Stop right there." Her voice turned sharp, cutting through his words like a blade.
"There is no 'hell.' That's just a piece of theology conjured by lowly mortals clinging to their beliefs."
"Sure, I get it. What I meant is that it felt like hell to me. The place is—uh—probably called the Eternal Slumbering Realm."
Her gaze darkened instantly, her expression hardening. "That's enough." Her tone was icy, and the air around them seemed to chill. "No one leaves that place. It's a resting ground where even the greatest souls—of gods, of immortals—forget to wake. John, I'll ask you one more time. Be honest with me." Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "My patience is thinning."
"I'm not lying. I was there," John insisted, though his voice faltered slightly under her intense glare.
Maximilian's gaze sharpened, and the atmosphere thickened. A chaotic aura surged toward him, suffocating and oppressive, like invisible tendrils wrapping around his tiny frame.
Shit! I'm screwed. What shall I do?... Oh, the song!
Without wasting another moment, John burst into the same song he'd sung alongside the Slumbering Beast back in the Eternal Slumbering Realm. To his surprise, the melody flowed effortlessly from his beak, smoother and sweeter than he remembered.
Maximilian's eyes widened briefly, her face etched with surprise. Slowly, her gaze softened, and her shoulders relaxed as if a warm drowsiness was seeping into her being.
"Good bird," she murmured, her voice tinged with sleepy amusement. "Now I believe you. Ha, you even know how to sing that eternal blissful song. You're a true goldmine."
John barely paid attention to her words. His mind raced with a singular thought: It's working. Make her sleep, sleep, old hag.
He continued singing, pouring every ounce of effort into the soothing melody.
But just as her eyelids began to droop, she snapped upright, eyes blazing. "Another verse, and I'll snap your neck," she hissed.
The sudden shift made him choke mid-note. Coughing nervously, he quickly replied, "Do you believe me now? No offense, but I think my voice might be a bit rusty after ending up in this tiny bird body."
A voice chimed in John's head like a decree:
["Your hymn roused the Slumbering Beast briefly. He cursed himself for choosing a bird as your vessel… and promptly went back to sleep."]
["The God of Machine laughed mockingly at the Beast's plight—meddling too much has its costs!"]
["The God of Machine applauds you for mastering the rare and elusive Eternal Blissful Song!"]
["The God of Machine eagerly anticipates the chaos your journey will bring."]
Ah, great. A noisy, unhelpful cheer squad. John rolled his eyes inwardly, his thoughts dripping with disdain.
"Hey, pay attention." Maximilian's glare was sharp enough to pin him to the spot. "And don't ever try that again." She huffed, brushing away the lingering tension. "Alright, moving on. Before your little detour in the Slumbering Realm, where were you?"
"Earth. A boring place called Earth. No magic, no miracles—just a dull, regular mortal world."
"Earth?" Her voice faltered, and unease flitted across her features for a brief moment. She quickly masked it, but John's sharp avian eyes caught the flicker of emotion.
"Are you from there too?" he ventured, tilting his head with exaggerated curiosity.
"Nah!" she snapped, too quickly. "Never heard of the place. So... what kind of ability did you bring back from your 'boring' little world?"
"Ability? You mean like... a job? Well, I was a simple office worker. My superpower was whining about my crappy life and getting paid peanuts for it."
"Whining! Jokes aside, never do that before me. I detest those types of people." Maximilian's eyes narrowed as she pressed further. "So, from what I've heard, you're blessed by a god. Don't even think about lying again—Marx may be a scoundrel, but he wouldn't fabricate something like that. Now, what did you get?"
Before John could respond, a voice chimed sporadically in his mind:
["The God of Machine sensed your earlier disappointment."]
["The God of Machine has agreed to help you once—on one condition: you must never mention His name throughout your entire adventure."]
Oh, here comes the goodie-goodie act. I can practically smell the heavenly politics at play here. But hey, nothing's free, right? Better to exploit it while I can rather than sit around waiting for a handout. John thought, his mind already scheming.
"Shutting your mouth is a bad idea, little bird," Maximilian interrupted, her tone sharp enough to snap him out of his thoughts.
"Nothing worth mentioning, ma'am," John replied, his wings ruffling in exaggerated irritation. "It's practically useless—a piece of crap. I was overjoyed for nothing. Other than its flashy name, I was granted a bountiful pile of so-called miracles. If you want it, you can have it for yourself. Believing it's with me is already exhausting enough."
Maximilian's lips twitched at his melodramatic outburst, but she said nothing, waiting for him to elaborate.
"Right," she finally drawled. "What is it called?"
"Something ridiculous," John muttered. "The Divine Codex of Beast-Master." He scoffed, his feathers fluffing up with indignation. "Divine, my stinky fart. Total nonsense."
"The Divine Codex of Beast-Master! Beast-Master?" Maximilian suddenly stood up, her composed demeanor cracking for the first time. Her eyes burned with intensity as she pressed, "Was it the Beast God who granted you this gift?"
"Nope!" John replied, the corner of his beak curling mischievously.
"Then who?"
"Sorry," John said with mock solemnity, "I'm forbidden to mention it." Behind the feigned apology, his mind was racing. Come on, push harder, old hag. I want to see how far you'll go.
Maximilian's sharp glare bore into him. "Little bird, your cutesy charm and humor have officially expired. This isn't a joke anymore. You're holding onto something incredible and treating it like dirt, while I could use it to command every beast in this realm."
John tilted his head in exaggerated thought, then chuckled darkly. "Oh, you mean you'd control those isekai'd beasts with their respective cheats all at your disposal? Well, good to know! Feel free to take it off my hands. But you'll have to stop asking me anything about the god."
"Which god is it?" she demanded, her tone icy and relentless.
"Sorry, ma'am," John replied, feigning meekness, his beady eyes darting around for dramatic effect.
Maximilian's glare hardened as she extended a hand toward him, her fingers crackling faintly with chaotic energy. "You fear the god more than me? Let me show you how absurd that is."
No, I fear you both. I'm just baiting the god to smite you when you least expect it, John thought, a sly glint hidden behind his flustered facade.
Suddenly, a jolt of white-hot energy sparked from her palm, striking him square on the head. A strange sensation coursed through his tiny body—a tingling, alien force that he couldn't quite place.
What the hell is this feeling? John's mind raced. If you're expecting me to feel pain, you're a blue moon away from success. Absurd, my foot—no, my claws… Damn this bird analogy! It's so confusing!
Still, he squeaked in exaggerated agony, flailing his wings and twisting dramatically as though in unbearable torment.
Maximilian's lips curled into a wicked grin. "How about now?"
John flinched theatrically, fluffing his feathers for effect. "That's very uncalled for. I already said I can't reveal his identity."
Her furious gaze bored into him, and he quickly added, "I'm a man of my word. Sorry—I mean, I'm a bird of my word. Whether you torture me or kill me, it's useless. Honestly, I'd be thrilled to leave this joke of a bird body. Go ahead, do your worst."
Her grin faltered for a fraction of a second before returning sharper than ever. "Oh, so you're a stubborn fool accustomed to torture?" Her voice was dangerously low, carrying the weight of unspoken threats. "Fine. I'll torture your soul instead," she hissed.
Ah, torture my soul, is it? John mused, his thoughts laced with defiance. Let's see if your reputation surpasses that of the Slumbering Beast.
John braced himself, his mind already crafting a dozen sarcastic quips in anticipation of her next move. Anyway, why is that cheerleading god still not biting the hook? Testing my patience, are we? Fine, I'll just throw in some extra spice to rattle his divine feathers.
Maximilian clasped her palms together, the sound reverberating like the prelude to a storm. She began chanting, her voice carrying a weight that made the cave's air dense and heavy as if they were suddenly caught in the eye of a tempest raging over a dark, endless sea.
"Stop!" John squawked, his voice cutting through the chaos. "I'll tell you. There's no need to go that far."
She froze mid-chant, her piercing gaze locking onto him with the intensity of a mamba sizing up its next meal.
"It's the… Beast God," John said, his tone deliberately weary, as though he had been utterly defeated. He let out an exaggerated sigh, adding an air of desolation as if surrendering had sapped every ounce of his spirit.
Maximilian's lips curled into a sly grin. "I knew it. You're a terrific liar, John. You almost had me fooled." She threw her head back, laughter echoing ominously through the cave.
Her chanting resumed, this time faster and more urgent. The storm-like aura intensified, swirling with chaotic energy.
As she finished, she thrust her palm toward him, yelling, "In the name of the Beast God!" before tapping his forehead with a force that sent a shockwave rippling through the space.
John felt nothing from her search. His internal smirk widened as he realized Maximilian's insistence on knowing the god's name was part of the spell she needed to cast. Too bad. You fell for my lie again, old hag.
"No... something is wrong. It should work as it always does," Maximilian muttered under her breath, frowning as she repeated the incantation. Five more attempts, each ending in the same frustrating silence.
"Did you lie again, little bird?" Her voice was sharp, a warning edge that promised consequences.
"Hey, must be your spell. I've got nothing to do with it," John shrugged, his tone mockingly innocent.
"Enough with your acting." Her voice was laced with venom. "I know nothing is wrong with my spell. That means you're still fooling around with me, aren't you?"
In a flash, an overwhelming surge of aura enveloped John, lifting him off the ground and slamming him violently against the cave wall. The impact rattled his bones, and he groaned in pain.
Before he could gather himself, Maximilian levitated him in mid-air, her gaze filled with fury and resolve.
"One more lie," she warned coldly, "and there's no going back. I'll stop restraining myself and get my answer... one way or another."
"I don't know!" John gasped, his voice dripping with genuine exhaustion. "I just know a god blessed me... nothing more than that."
"Nice try, little bird," Maximilian said with a predatory grin. "Fine. I'll do the soul-searching technique. It's the last thing I'll do to get the truth from you. Since you're just a fragile little bird with such measly essence, your soul will be broken in the process."
"I really meant it," John insisted, his voice low and steady.
Maximilian's eyes narrowed, and without another word, she began chanting the soul-searching spell, her hand gripping John's head with terrifying precision.
The next few minutes were a blur of excruciating pain. John groaned, his entire body shaking from the force of her power.
"You're a brave one," Maximilian mused, her voice dripping with twisted admiration. "Even my bastardly ex-disciple would break under this. For that, I truly admire your resilience."
She paused, her smile widening. "But now... there's no going back. Let's begin the soul search."