There was no high ground this time, but Thea no longer needed it. She'd already mastered the feel of the horn bow. Instead of dodging, she braced her stance, drew the string to its limit, and began firing in a wide arc—arrow after arrow, relentless. She didn't even bother aiming with her eyes anymore; her mental power guided every shot with uncanny precision.
By the time the Amazons caught up, they froze at the sight before them—utterly unnatural. From over three hundred meters away, Thea was loosing a storm of arrows at impossible speed. Nearly forty shots in under a minute. Her hit rate? Ninety percent—maybe higher.
Five full-grown boars, plus the smaller one from earlier, were now sprawled across the clearing. Each body bristled with arrows—seven or eight in some, five or six in others. Two lay motionless; the rest were twitching, bleeding out.
Thea waved to her onlookers like a student asking for more paper during an exam. "Hey! I'm out of arrows! Mind lending me a few?"
The three Amazons just stared, speechless. Who in the world burned through two quivers that fast? Normally, one well-aimed arrow per kill was the goal—but Thea's results spoke for themselves. Whatever else she was, the woman's skill and power were undeniable. None of them had ever seen anything like it.
They gathered what spare arrows they had and refilled her quiver.
Thea resumed calmly putting down the half-dead boars. According to Amazon rules, a kill only counted once the prey had fully stopped breathing, and no one else was allowed to assist. So she methodically fired arrow after arrow into the vital spots until each beast went still.
That should do it. Eight boars in total—plenty. Her opponent, the brawny warrior, was probably still running herself ragged for one last chance at victory. Thea had no such drive. She didn't care about the goddess's favor or this ridiculous competition. None of it would get her back to her own time. Give her Zeus's divine title, and she still wouldn't trade it for a ticket home.
"Let's pack up," she said, glancing at the Amazons binding the pigs with rope.
"Miss Thea, it's been less than an hour… you—" one of them began, but seeing her unwavering look, swallowed the rest of the words and nodded.
Together, they got to work. Carrying eight boars between four people was absurd—except one of them was Thea Queen, demigoddess and partial cyborg. With ropes doubled for strength, she dragged most of the load herself, muscles and metal arms working in tandem.
They had barely covered any ground when Thea felt a sudden, needle-sharp pressure between her shoulder blades.
Ambush?
She dropped the rope and rolled aside just in time. A heavy gust whooshed overhead.
Looking up, she blinked in disbelief. "Oh, come on—it's another eagle!?"
This one was huge—dark gray feathers, a hooked beak, wings nearly three meters across. It missed, climbed back into the air, and circled with cold precision. Two burning eyes locked on her like a predator marking its prey.
Was she cursed? Why did every bird of prey seem to have a personal vendetta? This was beyond coincidence! Horus wouldn't even be dead for another two centuries—how did they already know who killed him?
The eagle clearly didn't care for her existential questions. It let out a harsh, piercing cry that echoed across the forest. Within half a minute, the sky came alive. Black dots converged from every direction.
Thea swore under her breath and drew her bow. The first eagle dove; she loosed five arrows before finally striking it dead midair.
But it was too late—she could already see more shadows in the distance. Activating the Eye of Horus, she scanned the sky: seventeen raptors in total, of varying size and color. Not even the same species. Whether they were drawn by vengeance or the glow of her divine energy, they were coming fast.
Fantastic. Just what I needed—avian karma.
She slung her quiver back on and retrieved the arrows she'd used on the boars. The Amazon craftsmanship was solid—the steel heads were still sharp, though the fletching was frayed. Accuracy would suffer, but she'd make do.
Every sense heightened. The mechanical arm hummed at full output as she drew the bow again, sighting the lead bird—a massive white-headed eagle with talons like iron.
"Wait… a bald eagle?!" she blurted. "That's an American bird! How the hell did you end up here?"
No time for answers. Thea fired. The so-called symbol of freedom and democracy plummeted like a rock. She nocked another arrow, completely unapologetic, and kept shooting.
One after another, the raptors fell. Six down in rapid succession, each strike clean and merciless.
The Amazons had long since taken cover. They'd lived five thousand years and never seen half these creatures before—some looked like they belonged to myth, not nature. Their duty now was simple: watch, survive, and bear witness until one side was annihilated.
Thea had no time to aim carefully anymore. The birds were too fast, weaving through the canopy in coordinated attacks. She darted between trees, using trunks as cover. When one eagle came too close, she caught it mid-dive and punched—hard. The mechanical blow decapitated it instantly.
She grimaced at the splash. Ugh. Should've brought a blade. The punch worked, sure—but her clothes were spattered with blood, and something… white and yellow. She tried not to think about it.
Still, disgust didn't slow her down. Each time a bird dove, she countered—shooting from afar, smashing up close.
By the time the survivors regrouped in the sky, only six remained. They exchanged uneasy glances, then formed up smartly, launching a staggered attack pattern.
Their tactics actually impressed her—a coordinated relay strike, one after another. It forced her to move constantly, dodging and countering between trees.
During a brief lull, she stooped to grab a few fist-sized stones from the ground. The next time an eagle swooped, she didn't even look—just flung a rock by instinct.
Hit or miss, she was already moving. The results spoke for themselves: two more eagles went spiraling down, wings broken, bones shattered, screaming as they hit the dirt.
Thea wiped a streak of blood from her cheek and exhaled. "Great. From wild boars to flying death squads. What's next—sharks?"