Ricky hovered mid-air, wings humming with a low, threatening buzz as his compound eyes remained locked onto the obsidian ant below. Each beat of his wings stirred the thick mana-laden air around him. His entire posture was taut, ready, furious.
Below, the ant stood unmoving—its crystal-white antennae twitching slowly as it stared back at him, its massive body exuding calm yet undeniable hostility.
"Damn, you bitch…" Ricky muttered, his voice laced with irritation and a touch of relief. "Thank the abyss you can't fly."
A sneer tugged at his mandibles. That small advantage was the only reason this battle hadn't already turned into a losing war. He narrowed his gaze, spiritual energy surging within him like a boiling tide.
With a soft hiss, Ricky channeled the venom deep inside his body. His proboscis pulsed with eerie black light, swallowing the surrounding glow as if it were a dying star.
Wring!
