In the dark-red world, a massive flock of scarlet Flabirds tore across the sky at top speed.
On the backs of the lead birds, a few figures sat like they were out for a Sunday ride.
One person per mount was absurdly comfortable.
A Flabird’s back was wide enough that sitting was optional—you could practically lie down and take a nap if you wanted. And they were fast. Sure, Ethan’s telekinetic flight could leave them in the dust, but that was only because Ethan’s "knife-surfing" speed was downright stupid.
Compared to Flint and the others, though? Flabirds were on a completely different level.
Led by the Flabird leader, Ethan’s group quickly found what they were looking for.
A huge gathering of Infernals.
They’d built on a wide, flat plain with an open line of sight in every direction. The ground was still red rock, but the temperature here was noticeably lower than where they’d entered—probably because it was farther from the magma river.
Across the plain were mounds and dos made of stacked stone—crude, bunker-like huts that were obviously Infernal housing.
And around those huts...
Tens of thousands of Infernals.
Their lifestyle reminded Ethan of primitive human societies back on Earth—tribal, clustered, territorial. This was clearly one major tribe, and it wasn’t small.
The mont the Flabirds appeared, the Infernals noticed.
At first, they just froze, staring up at the oncoming red storm.
Then excitent rippled through them like a spark catching dry grass.
Food... delivering itself?
In this world, the Infernals were the real apex predators. Everything else was prey. Most species ran the mont they spotted them.
But today, a flock of Flabirds had co straight to their doorstep—and in huge numbers.
How could they not get excited?
If they knocked that many out of the sky, they’d be eating for a long, long ti.
"ROOOAAR!"
The tribe leader bellowed.
More Infernals poured out from the stone mounds, erging in waves. Combined with the ones already outside, there had to be at least forty thousand.
The Flabird flock slowed and stopped when they were still over a thousand feet from the settlent. The Flabird leader cried out a few sharp calls.
Skinny Pete listened, then relayed it. "Ember says these Infernals are strong. We can’t get too close."
Ethan nodded. He’d already checked them.
The Infernals really were built different. Their overall strength was way beyond the Flabirds’.
On paper, the numbers didn’t look that far apart—but Ember’s flock only had Ember at Stage B.
Down there?
Ethan counted fast and felt his scalp tighten. There were at least three thousand Stage B Infernals. The rest were almost all Tier 16 and Tier 17. He couldn’t spot a single one under Tier 16.
No wonder Ember’s flock was terrified of them. If the Flabirds ever got dragged into a straight fight, they’d be erased.
Flying was the only reason they still existed.
Big Mike leaned forward, vibrating with excitent. "Captain, do we hit them? I’m dying to test my new power!"
He’d just reached Stage B. He was itching to go loud.
Ethan looked at him and smiled. "Wow. You’re brave."
"Go on," Ethan said, voice sweet as poison. "It’s only three thousand Stage B Infernals."
Big Mike’s eyes bulged. "What?!"
All the color drained out of his face in under a second.
"...Actually," he said quickly, "I’m not that eager to fight."
"Yeah," Chris said. "Thought so."
Below, the Infernals realized the Flabirds weren’t coming closer.
Their excitent curdled into anger.
With another roar from their leader, the entire tribe surged forward—forty thousand bodies charging as one, a red tide flooding across the plain.
Ethan didn’t hesitate.
"Fall back," he ordered.
The Flabird flock pivoted and ran—clean, instant, no debate. They’d co fast, and they left even faster.
The Infernals chased for several minutes, sprinting hard, arms pumping, voices howling.
Then, one by one, they slowed—forced to accept reality.
Two legs didn’t beat wings.
"ROOOAAR!"
The tribal leader scread up at the sky in pure frustration, then finally turned, furious, and led the tribe back to their stone mounds.
Far in the distance, once it was clear the Infernals had stopped chasing, everyone finally slowed.
Chris swallowed hard. "Ethan... with that lineup, can we actually fight them?"
"We can’t," Ethan said flatly. "Too many. Three thousand Stage Bs alone—there’s no way we hold. And these Flabirds? Even less of a chance."
He looked at Skinny Pete. "Let’s try another tribe. Pete, ask if there’s a smaller Infernal group sowhere."
"Got it."
Skinny Pete synced with Ember for a mont, then his face went weird. "Ember says... that tribe we just saw is already the smallest one nearby. The others are bigger. So have over a hundred thousand."
"...Then what the hell were those few thousand Infernals that escaped to Earth?" Ethan asked.
Skinny Pete paused, listening again. "They were... exiled. Kicked out by their tribe."
Everyone went quiet for a beat.
Ethan sighed and shook his head. "Man. I really thought once we all hit Stage B, we could just steamroll these guys."
Chris snorted. "Welco to reality."
Henry asked, "So, Captain... are we still killing them?"
Ethan’s mouth tilted. "Of course. They’re walking crystal cores."
He leaned back on the Flabird leader’s neck, eyes narrowing. "If brute force doesn’t work... we get smart."
Chris grinned. "Alright. Tell us—what’s the plan?"
Ethan spoke quickly, low enough that only the squad could hear. A few sentences. A few gestures.
Then he waved the Flabirds down.
They dropped the team off at a safe distance.
A mont later, thirty thousand-plus Flabirds split into more than a dozen teams and fanned out, approaching the tribe from different directions.
It didn’t take long.
The first team showed itself near the settlent.
The Infernals spotted them and imdiately surged after them, exactly like before.
Then a second team appeared from another angle.
The Infernal horde hesitated for maybe half a second—then split, sending roughly half their numbers to chase the new target.
After that, a third team.
Then a fourth.
As more Flabird teams appeared, the Infernals got pulled farther and farther apart—chasing in different directions, breaking their main force into scattered hunting packs.
They were too confident. Too used to being the apex predator.
If Flabirds showed up, they chased. No fear. No caution.
Soon enough, the fifty-thousand-strong tribe had been shredded into more than ten separate groups, each sprinting hard after its own "al."
Watching from afar, Ethan picked one group—the smallest.
"Smallest" was still over three thousand.
To prevent the packs from supporting each other, Ethan had the bait teams drag them even farther out, stretching the gaps until they were basically isolated.
Once they were far enough, Ethan and the others mounted a few Flabirds that had stayed back and went after that target group.
Because the bait Flabirds needed to keep the Infernals hooked, they weren’t flying at full speed. Ethan’s team caught up fast.
He checked the chasing pack.
Three thousand-plus Infernals... with a little over a hundred at Stage B.
Still dangerous.
But now it was at least fightable.
The Infernals clearly didn’t realize what was happening. When they noticed Flabirds getting close behind them, their faces twisted with annoyance.
Then they opened fire.
Flaming teors streaked through the air, crashing down toward the birds.
The Flabirds beat their wings hard and slipped out of the impact zones, and Ethan’s team jumped off their backs without hesitation.
The mont the Infernals saw them—strange, unfamiliar figures—they hesitated, confused.
What are these things? Why haven’t we seen them before?
Ethan didn’t give them ti to process.
He teleported straight above the densest cluster and triggered Absolute Stasis imdiately.
Dozens of daggers rose at once and punched down—clean and fast—driving into the skulls of dozens of Stage B Infernals.
Ti resud.
And in the blink of an eye, half the Stage B fighters in that pack were already dead.
The remaining Infernals erupted in fury.
Fire-type abilities flooded the air—teors, fla blasts, burning volleys—crashing down toward Ethan and the squad in a sky-wide barrage.
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