Chapter 684: The Cruel Disparity
The Na'vi joint hunting party, like a meticulously woven giant net, silently cast itself over the areas where the Predators had recently been active.
Relying on generations of accumulated jungle wisdom, they maximized their environmental advantage.
Ikran riders circled within the canopy, their sharp eyes scanning below; keen-nosed Viperwolves prowled with their heads low, catching any anomalous scents in the air; robust Direhorses carried supply loads, their thick hides and carapaces forming mobile cover as they marched.
The hunters from various clans utilized ancient communication methods—mimicking the calls of forest birds and beasts, specific breathing rhythms, and hand signals—achieving precise coordination deep within the dense forest through the neural queues connecting them to the flora and fauna.
Their advance was orderly, displaying masterful skills perfectly integrated with the jungle.
The continuous tracking soon yielded results.
An elite vanguard squad, by identifying abnormal flattening of ground vegetation, imperceptible scratches on tree bark, and faint, unnatural energy residues in the air, successfully locked onto the targets' active zone.
It was an area situated on the fringes of the floating mountains, covered by colossal bioluminescent fungi and a complex, intertwined cave system.
As the news was relayed back, the main force of the joint hunting party responded immediately, executing a tactical encirclement of the target zone from multiple directions.
Using the dense glowing vegetation and jagged rocks for cover, they cautiously and steadily compressed the encirclement.
The Ikran riders maintained a continuous patrol in the outer airspace, completely sealing off any avenues of escape from above.
The entire encirclement maneuver was completed in absolute silence, fully embodying the Na'vi hunters' hunting wisdom and battlefield discipline, derived from their very blood and etched into their bones.
Ultimately, they successfully cornered their targets—the elite squad led personally by the Predator Elder, comprising three veteran mature warriors and two Young Bloods—into a low-lying depression.
The area was surrounded on three sides by nearly vertical, sheer rock walls. The only exit led toward a lush, gloomy fungal forest, forming a nearly perfect natural trap.
"They are right inside!" Tsu'tey, who was commanding this Great Hunt, lowered his voice as he spoke to the clan leaders beside him, his eyes flashing with excitement and the light of vengeance. "The Ikrans did not see them leave, and the Viperwolves are growling low at the interior. We did it! We have them surrounded!"
The warriors of the hunting party held their breath, drawing their bows and gripping their weapons tightly, awaiting the order for the general assault.
The tension reached its absolute peak.
However, what happened next delivered a crushing blow to these brimmingly confident Na'vi hunters.
When Tsu'tey let out the whistling cry to attack, countless arrows and thrown spears rained down upon the center of the depression. Yet, the anticipated scene of enemies taking arrows and falling to the ground did not occur.
Most of the attacks completely missed. A small handful of arrows seemed to strike something invisible, emitting crisp clangs before being deflected away.
Immediately following that, the chilling screech of plasma weapons echoed from within the depression.
Beams of searing light shot out from seemingly empty air, precise and lethal.
A hunter hiding behind a rock wall, preparing to hurl his spear, was pierced through a gap in the rocks by a beam. A charred, gaping hole instantly appeared in his chest.
An Ikran rider attempting to locate the enemies from the air was blown apart mid-flight along with his mount, plummeting as a ball of fire.
The Na'vi simply could not see where their enemies were! Their attacks were like a blind man swinging his fists, while the enemies' counterattacks were like the Grim Reaper calling roll. Every flash of light inevitably brought the death or severe injury of a Na'vi warrior.
"Where are they?!"
"I can't see them! I can't see them at all!"
Panic began to spread among the besieging Na'vi.
They bravely returned fire toward the direction of the light beams, their arrows vanishing into the air and their spears hurled into nothingness, yet they struggled to hit the perfectly cloaked hunters.
The Predators, meanwhile, moved and fired with cold calculation. Leveraging their cloaking advantage, they constantly shifted positions, as if toying with prey that had fallen into a trap.
The mature warriors were vastly experienced and coordinated flawlessly. Often, several plasma beams would blanket an area simultaneously, instantly purging the Na'vi positioned there.
With the Elder's tacit approval, the Young Bloods began attempting more challenging kills, such as utilizing their wristblades for close-quarters ambushes.
The battle devolved into a one-sided slaughter.
The Na'vi hunters possessed strength and courage in vain; they were completely unable to effectively bring their weapons to bear upon their enemies.
The chasm of the generational technological gap appeared so overwhelmingly massive and despair-inducing in this moment.
Tsu'tey's eyes practically split open with rage. Roaring, he personally led a detachment of the most elite warriors in a suicidal charge toward an area where plasma beams were frequently firing.
They charged across the open ground, paying the price of several casualties, and finally closed in on the position.
Just as Tsu'tey leapt high into the air, bringing his bone axe down viciously upon the seemingly empty air, a blurry silhouette abruptly materialized!
It was a mature Predator warrior. He clearly had not anticipated that the Na'vi would dare to close the distance so fearlessly. In a rush, he raised his combi-stick to block.
Clang!
The bone axe clashed with the alloy spear, emitting an ear-piercing screech.
Tsu'tey's immense strength forced the Predator warrior to take a half-step back, and the axe blade even left a shallow scratch across his armor.
But that was all.
Another Predator warrior nearby instantly pivoted his shoulder caster. A searing beam struck Tsu'tey directly in the right shoulder, blasting his entire body through the air. His right arm was nearly severed from his torso as he crashed heavily to the ground, losing all combat capability.
And the mature Predator warrior Tsu'tey had struck merely suffered damaged armor; he himself remained entirely unharmed.
"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" Seeing Tsu'tey heavily wounded, the other clan leaders finally snapped out of their fury, realizing this was an unwinnable battle. They hoarsely issued the order to retreat.
The wails of the wounded mingled with the mournful cries of masterless Ikrans. The survivors supported their injured comrades, not even having the time to retrieve the bodies of some of their fallen, solely focused on desperately fleeing that depression of death that had swallowed their courage and hope.
They had arrived with soaring morale, tight as a hunting net; they retreated shattered and broken, like fallen leaves shredded by a storm.
This Great Hunt, which had poured in the elite forces of multiple Na'vi clans, ultimately ended in an indisputable, crushing defeat.
They failed to kill a single Predator warrior. Their sole battle result was the deep scratch left on the armor of one mature Predator by Tsu'tey's desperate, suicidal strike.
And for this insignificant achievement, they paid the agonizing price of dozens of exceptional hunters dead, many more injured, and even renowned warriors like Tsu'tey suffering grievous wounds.
The Predators remained in the depression, making no move to pursue.
One by one, they deactivated their optical camouflage, revealing their cold, metallic forms.
From beneath their masks came the low, short hums of clicking vocalizations. It was not a language, yet it clearly conveyed a mixture of contempt and mockery.
To them, this was not a battle worth praising; it was more akin to the merciless crushing of provokers who had vastly overestimated their own strength.
The Elder walked slowly over to the warrior with the damaged armor. Extending a finger covered in plating, he carefully inspected the scratch.
After confirming that the body beneath had suffered no substantive damage, he emitted a brief command syllable.
All the Predators instantly reined in their postures. Following the Elder, they swiftly and orderly evacuated this battlefield reeking of blood, their silhouettes quickly vanishing into the depths of the dense, bioluminescent fungal forest.
This absolute, total defeat was like a basin of freezing water mixed with ice shards, ruthlessly extinguishing the final shred of illusion in the Na'vi's hearts that they could defeat the enemy relying on their own strength.
The despair-inducing disparity in technology and combat power was branded into the heart of every surviving hunter in an unprecedentedly clear and cruel manner. And with their retreat, it rapidly spread throughout the entire Na'vi clan alliance.