Chapter 1100: Why Is It Always Me?

"Damn... that was close," Big Mike exhaled, still shaken.

"Good thing Ethan was there. Almost messed up this handsome face of mine."

"Yeah, right," Skinny Pete snorted.

"Handsome? You look like you just crawled out of a barbecue pit."

"Hey, that’s called a healthy tan, man," Big Mike shot back.

"Chicks dig it."

"Enough," Ethan cut in, eyes scanning the sky.

"Stay sharp. That thing’s not done yet."

Above them, the Golden Eagle was still circling, clearly not ready to let this fight go.

But its eyes had changed—no longer dismissive, now sharp and focused. Ethan’s earlier attacks hadn’t landed, but they’d rattled it. It knew now that these humans weren’t pushovers.

After a few more passes, the eagle suddenly tucked its wings and dove again—fast, silent, and unpredictable. No one could tell who it was aiming for.

Mia’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t see its exact trajectory, but just before it dropped, the eagle had locked eyes with her.

She didn’t hesitate. A wave of water surged upward from her hands, and she threw herself into a roll across the ground.

Shhk—!

Even with her quick reaction, the eagle’s talons still raked across her back, tearing out a chunk of flesh.

As it moved to follow up, Ethan’s telekinetically-controlled dagger finally arrived, streaking straight for the eagle’s chest.

It wasn’t that Ethan had reacted slowly—the damn bird had faked him out. It had looked like it was going for Henry, then veered mid-dive and went for Mia instead.

Good thing Mia had sharp instincts. Otherwise, she might’ve ended up with a shredded face. The eagle had a nasty habit of going straight for the head.

Still, even if she had been disfigured, Henry could probably fix it. Perks of having a healer on the team.

Sensing the danger from the incoming dagger, the Golden Eagle abandoned its pursuit of Mia and twisted away. It could feel the blade’s edge—getting hit by that would definitely hurt.

It flapped hard, trying to climb back into the sky.

But just then, frost began to spread across its feathers.

Mia’s water wave had hit after all—just enough to leave a thin layer of moisture on its body.

Ethan appeared beside it in a flash, poleaxe swinging down with brutal force.

At the same time, the rest of the team launched their attacks—magic, projectiles, everything they had.

But the eagle shuddered violently, and the frost slid right off its sleek feathers. With a burst of speed, it broke free of the freeze before it could take hold.

Ethan’s poleaxe sliced through empty air. The others’ attacks missed too.

Only Big Mike’s

Rain of Flames

managed to land a few hits—thanks to its wide area of effect. A few fireballs scorched the eagle’s wings, and the air filled with the sharp, burnt smell of singed feathers.

"How the hell did it shake off the freeze?" someone muttered, eyes turning to Mia.

She shook her head, frustrated. "Its feathers are too smooth. And it’s moving too fast. My water barely stuck to it—just a few droplets. That’s not enough to freeze it solid."

"Great," Ethan muttered, frowning. "This thing’s a real pain."

He looked up again. The eagle was still circling, refusing to retreat.

And now, thanks to Big Mike’s fire attack, it looked pissed. Its eyes locked onto Mike with pure fury.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. An idea sparked.

"Big Mike, you afraid of pain?" he asked, turning to him.

"Hell yes," Big Mike answered without hesitation.

"..."

"Well, too bad," Ethan said seriously. "We’re gonna have to sacrifice you a little."

"Wait, what?!" Big Mike clutched his chest like he’d just been betrayed. "Captain, what are you planning?!"

"Don’t give me that look," Ethan said, smirking. "You’re making it sound like I’m about to do something indecent to you."

He pointed upward. "You just roasted its feathers. That thing’s furious. If I’m right, you’re its next target. Don’t bother trying to fight back—you won’t hit it. But when it grabs you, just grab its talon and hold on tight."

"Wait, wait, wait—so I’m bait now?!" Big Mike’s eyes went wide. "What if it crushes my skull with one swipe?!"

"Come on," Ethan said. "You think all that body refinement training was for nothing? You’re Tier 8. It’s not gonna crush your head that easily. Worst case, use your arm to shield your face. Just grab it. If you can hold on, we can kill it."

"But what if it drags me thousands of feet into the air and drops me?!"

"Relax," Ethan said. "The second you grab it, we’ll grab you. That dumb bird’s not going anywhere."

"...Fine." Big Mike sighed like a man walking to his own execution. "Why is it always me?"

The standoff dragged on.

The Golden Eagle kept circling high above, scanning for an opening. After nearly getting cleaved in half twice, it had gotten cautious—too cautious to dive recklessly again.

And with it refusing to come down, the team couldn’t do much either.

Ethan glanced at the group, then gave a subtle signal to keep moving forward. As they resumed their march, he deliberately had Big Mike lag a few steps behind.

Sure enough, the moment the eagle saw Big Mike drifting from the group, it dove.

It was confident—at this distance, even if the others reacted, they wouldn’t make it in time.

The instant Big Mike saw the eagle coming, he raised his left arm over his head. Say what you will, the man cared about his face.

Crunch!

The eagle’s talons slammed into his arm, pulverizing the bone on impact.

"Shit—!" Big Mike hissed through clenched teeth.

But he didn’t forget the plan. With his good hand, he grabbed the eagle’s leg and held on tight.

The Golden Eagle froze for a split second, surprised. Then its sharp beak darted down, aiming to stab through Big Mike’s hand.

But before it could strike, Ethan teleported in—poleaxe already mid-swing—and brought it crashing down toward the eagle’s skull.

The eagle had no choice. It aborted the attack and flapped hard, lifting off with Big Mike in tow.

With its strength, carrying one person wasn’t a problem. Once it got high enough, it could do whatever it wanted—rip him apart, drop him, whatever.

At least, that was the plan.

But it had underestimated them.

The moment it took off, Chris—who’d been cloaked in stealth right next to Big Mike—lunged and grabbed Mike’s leg.

Then Sean, the closest nearby, activated his speed boost and grabbed Chris’s ankle.

One after another, the team formed a human chain in seconds.

Even the three mutant beasts joined in, piling on like it was some kind of tug-of-war.

The Golden Eagle flapped furiously, but it couldn’t gain altitude. It looked down—

When the hell did all these people get attached to me?!

"Think you’re getting away? Hell no!" Ethan’s voice roared from above.

His poleaxe came down like a thunderbolt, slamming into the eagle’s back with bone-crushing force.

CRACK!

The blow nearly split the Tier 9 beast in two.

"SKREEEEE—!"

The Golden Eagle let out a shriek of agony and plummeted, crashing to the ground in a heap. Its wings flailed weakly, but it was done—it couldn’t fly anymore.

Ethan landed beside it, poleaxe still humming with power, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Man, having a good weapon feels damn good."

One strike—just one—and he’d nearly one-shot a Tier 9 mutant beast. This poleaxe was a monster.

Of course, it wasn’t just the weapon.

Ethan himself was at the peak of Tier 8, and with the strength boost from the Body Refinement Technique, his raw power wasn’t far off from Tier 9 anymore.