"How long until it reaches us?" Erik asked without letting panic or fear set in. Something Alina understood.

"A minute, maybe less."

Erik's decision was immediate. The first thing he had to do was to make sure the convoy was left unharmed.

He then switched channels and addressed Kael. "Kael, change course; all vehicles divert to the left. Now!" His voice was a commanding boom over the radio, leaving no room for hesitation. Kael shared the order and the drivers adjusted their steering wheels; the convoy veered off its original path, engines roaring as they kicked up plumes of sand.

Turning to his own driver, Erik's eyes were steely. "Keep heading in our original direction," he said. The driver looked at him with clear fear flashing across his face, but he nodded, understanding the weight of Erik's responsibility and his duties. Though he felt like he was going to die soon.

As the convoy shifted its course, Erik's vehicle continued to barrel straight ahead, a lone wolf separating from the pack. His grip tightened around the hilt of his Flyssa, anticipation high. He did not know what thaid was around, but he had to be ready.

Whatever was coming, he would face it head-on. The Thaid was powerful, according to Alina, but it was all compared to her. This meant it wasn't necessarily a threat to Erik.

He glanced at the rearview mirror, watching the convoy change direction, a wave of relief washing over him.

He cast a quick glance at Mira's car, feeling a sense of relief as he diverted the thaid's attention from her.

As time ticked forward, the gap between Erik and the advancing Thaid narrowed. The driver's face, a canvas of emotion, transformed, portraying his escalating fear.

His eyes widened, almost bulging, as they fixated on the looming and unseen threat. The surrounding skin was creased and wrinkled, resembling the furrows and folds of a parched desert landscape, etched by the relentless forces of nature.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, trickling down his temples in rivulets, reflecting the harsh desert sun. His complexion took on a pallid, almost ghostly hue, drained of color by the terror gripping his heart.

Every twitch, every minute contortion of his facial muscles, broadcast his terror to the world.

[WARNING. HOSTILE DETECTED.]

<Oh… fuck!>

This was a notification he hadn't gotten in a while, and that was because it appeared only when a hostile had the power to be dangerous or pose a challenge to Erik. He didn't know what of the two, but one thing was sure: this fight could be dangerous even for him.

Erik's eyes were glued to the sandy terrain below. Every muscle in his body was ready for battle with the monstrous thaid.

The monster's elusive nature until this point showed it was not a flying Thaid and suggested an upcoming clash with a sand-dweller. Although that was reassuring, he couldn't confirm that everything was as he assumed until he saw the creature. He was smart, especially so thanks to Hais's brain crystal power, but he couldn't predict the future.

At that moment, almost like a forewarning, a subtle feeling of unease, causing a tingling sensation on the back of his neck, brought his attention to the imminent danger. Overwhelmed by his instincts, he didn't hesitate and launched himself out of the moving vehicle with a jump.

As Erik's boots touched the sandy ground, a piercing screech shattered the silence, followed by the gut-wrenching sound of metal being ripped apart.

Whirling around, Erik witnessed a scene of surreal horror. His vehicle, now bisected, appeared as if sliced by some unseen, monstrous blade. The sharpness of the cut was chillingly precise, the two halves of the vehicle splayed open like a grotesque metal flower.

In a macabre display, the driver's head had been severed with chilling cleanliness, detached from its body. It soared through the air, tracing a horrifying arc against the stark desert sky.

With a sickening thud, the head landed on the unforgiving desert floor, sending a small cloud of sand into the air.

Erik's heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline surging through his veins as he took in the horrifying scene. Then, the gravity of the situation hit him: the attack had come from the front, but not from the ground but from above.

"What the fu—?!"

A chill ran down his spine as he realized that his worst nightmare had just materialized and he had been incorrect about his assumption. A flying Thaid, one of the most fearsome creatures known to mankind, had targeted them.

Thoughts were racing through Erik's mind at a rapid pace. Besides their lethal nature, the Flying Thaids were known for their intelligence, cunning, and unparalleled mastery of the skies, rendering them hard to eliminate. And now, one had them in its sights.

With squinted eyes, he scanned the sky, trying to shield himself from the intense sunlight, but unfortunately, he saw nothing. Spotting these creatures proved to be quite difficult, because they would often employ their brain crystal powers to launch aerial attacks.

Their ability to strike from such a long distance made it impossible to discern the origin of the attack, and their subsequent movement added an extra layer of complexity to the task.

Erik's gaze fixated on one of the convoy's armored cars, stilled in the chaos. Through the reinforced glass, he saw Mira's face, a picture of shock and fear. Her eyes, wide and filled with terror, said she saw the creature's assault.

Mira's features were contorted in horror, her pallor betraying the depth of her shock.

Her breath seemed to catch, visible in the rapid rise and fall of her chest, as she processed the scene before her.

Yet, amidst this fear, there was a distinct glint of concern—a worry that extended beyond her own safety.

Her eyes, darting, were not just mirrors of the fear of death but also of her deep concern for Erik's well-being, as he was tasked with battling such a beast.

Around her, the rest of the convoy shared similar expressions of dread and disbelief.

Faces pressed against windows bore the same stamp of horror, reflecting a collective realization of their precarious situation.

In that fleeting moment, their eyes locked, and it was as if a silent storm of emotions raged between them. Fear, concern, and a desperate longing for each other's safety surged like tumultuous waves in a once calm sea.

With a swift, decisive motion, Erik raised his hand and gestured for her to stay back. His eyes conveyed a message as clear as any spoken word: "Do not approach. It's too dangerous," was what he tried to convene.

Mira's face contorted with a combination of frustration and concern, her eyes desperately imploring him to reconsider, to allow her help, but Erik's expression remained unyielding.

Despite Mira's obvious objections, it appeared the armored car driver was able to interpret Erik's silent signal.

The vehicle's engine thundered to life, its roar cutting through the tense air. As a powerful beast awakened, it sped up, rejoining the convoy's formation.

The line of armored vehicles moved as one, a metallic serpent slithering through the landscape.

Their coordinated maneuvering resembled a well-rehearsed dance, each vehicle slipping into its designated place with precision.

Erik watched this display, his eyes tracking the convoy's retreat. Yet, his attention was divided, darting to the skies, vigilant for the lurking presence of the flying thaid.

The convoy's departure, under the shadow of such a threat, was like a fleet of ships navigating treacherous waters, each wave a potential harbinger of the lurking leviathan above.

As the distance between them continued to grow, Erik felt an increasing pang of anxiousness, knowing that the convoy was vulnerable to potential attacks while he was engaged in the battle against the flying Thaid.

However, he made the conscious choice to set it aside and not address it. This was not the moment for indulging in sentimental feelings. A deadly predator, something not hypothetical, was on the loose, and he had to make it, so he became its target.

He watched as the armored car blended into the line of vehicles, each one carrying people whose lives were now in his hands. With Mira and the others at a safer distance, Erik turned his attention back to the looming threat. His grip tightened around the hilt of his Flyssa, his senses heightened to a razor's edge.

He understood his sword would be of minimal value in defending against an airborne adversary. In order to overcome his problem, he needed to find a suitable solution.

Erik, someone who refrained from indulging in emotions, experienced an overwhelming surge of frustration and helplessness.

Erik took a moment to draw a deep breath, preparing himself for the impending battle. He might not be able to see the flying Thaid, but he could make it difficult for the creature to strike again. And if it dared to come close, to underestimate the human it had chosen as its prey, then Erik would be ready.

He would be ready to show this flying horror that even the most fearsome predators could become prey.

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