Sailing past the sliced and diced remains, Seth's dark eyes scanned the airborne battle field, drinking in the details of what was occurring around him as fast as he could. Down below, the rest of his group were dealing with the main force of the unending horde of black armoured ants. From what he could see, they were holding their own quite well against the encroaching swarm, yet it wouldn't be long until the wave descended upon them and truly surrounded them.

While that might seem like a bad thing, and it admittedly it was not ideal, it wasn't exactly as terrible as it might sound. While they were doing their best to repel the oncoming storm of wings, mandibles and claws, that did not mean they were going all out.

After all, not all of their abilities were good for long ranged combat. Few of them were. Their best long ranged combatants were himself and Astra, as well as their pets. But surrounding Astra, especially with a horde of very conductive bodies, was not exactly a prime strategy. Not that these creatures were even showing much signs of intelligence in the first place.

He himself was proving to be challenging to pin down, even if it required much more effort in his part than his electric friend would have to expend.

The rest of them were mostly confined either to close quarters, or medium range damage over a wide area. Thus at their current distance, while it was safer, they were at a disadvantage. Having to resort to throwing cars or using the bombs created by Alfie using his abilities, but they were in limited supply and couldn't be refilled under such conditions.

Thus, it meant that being overrun by the horde would not necessarily make their situation worse, nor would it make it better. It would simply turn the tide of the battle into a new direction, although Seth trusted Astra, hoping that she would have a plan in mind on how to skew the odds even further in their direction.

So the sight of the swarm gradually growing closer to his companions didn't alarm Seth. However, the same could not be said for the branch that had split off for a battle in the skies.

Omelette's azure pyre had broken their charge, but where there had only been a single tendril previously, now Seth could see half a dozen darting outwards from the main tendril before curling back in. It was like looking at giant black octopus, curling snaring its prey with its mass of tentacles.

Omelette was doing his best to hold off the assault of this swarming octopus, but it was a losing battle. Attacked from so many sides, there was little his flames could do to halt their advance. Not to mention, his flames were not limitless.

Magically though the may be, that not mean they were produced by magic. Instead it was a result of Omelette's biology. Something he could produce organically, then alter through his abilities afterwards.

He desperately flapped his wings in air, whirling around and keeping his head on a swivel for whichever arm of the octopus was encroaching the closest. Whenever he could, he would spew a fresh column of azure flames. Yet Seth couldn't help notice that each bout was growing shorter, and each plume of flames growing sparser, until it was practically sputtering out.

When he couldn't use his flames, or when he was being attacked from behind, Omelette flicked his tail and flapped his wings towards his aggressors, launched forth a hail of steel edged feathers that tore through their exoskeletons like tinfoil.

Even still, the sheer numbers began to overwhelm his impressive defences. A thousand ants could fell an elephant, so why would mutant ants and a Wyvern be any different? One ant was insignificant and easy to kill, but thousands? All tearing at your flesh, stinging and ripping and clawing.

Quality might triumph Quantity. But there is a reason the horde is so feared.

Seth had to watch as dozens of ants slipped passed Omelette's defences, as they clung to his body and started to tear him apart piece by piece. Some of their claws were sliced apart by his feathers, while others failed to pierce his skin with their chitinous jaws.

Some were torn from his body before they got a change, crushed by Omelette's mighty jaws or torn to shreds by his deadly, wicked claws. But for dozen that failed, there was one who did not. For every dozen that died, there were hundreds more ready to take their place.

Hearing the wailing roar of pain echoing from Omelette's mouth was the last straw for Seth. He glanced around, finding the closest ant towards him and steering his descend towards it. It seemed the creature caught his scent before he could arrive, its antennae twitching with delight at the smell of fresh meat.

It immediately looked up, letting out a guttural, screeching roar that send globules of spittle flying before it beat its wings faster and raced upwards to meet him.

Uncaring for its approach, Seth flipped in the air and gripped his sword tight, but he did not swing it this time. Instead, at the last moment, he shifted his foot so that it planted against the ant's forehead.

The opposing momentum served as his kick, halting the ants approach and bringing its advance to a screeching halt, its exoskeletal armour caving in around Seth's foot, leaving a perfect indentation of his foot.

Using the ants ugly face as his stepping stone, Seth sunk into a crouch. Mana pouring into his leg, fuelling his muscles and making them tingle with unbridled power. The lower he sunk, the more mana he poured into them, making his calf muscles swell until finally...

BOOOM!

The air trembled, forced away in a visible wave as Seth launched himself off of the ant's head. His springboard exploded outwards, becoming nothing but a hail of viscera and gunk from the sheer force of his kick off. Other ants which had been racing towards him just moments before, eager to get their own taste of his meat, where blasted backwards and sent spinning through the air. Some even killed by the shrapnel of their kins destroyed chitin, which had been weaponised by the sheer speed of their eruption. A natural, if utterly grotesque, fragmentation grenade.

Seth rocketed forward, Streaking through the air like a bullet. The air itself forming a cone around his body, pulling at the skin of his face and forcing itself into his eyes, making them stream with water. Yet even still, he forced them to stay open and locked on his target, even as it became a blurred mess in his vision.

Elsewhere in another section of the battle in the skies, a silver streak curved through the air, spinning like a drill as it rammed through two more ravenous ants before immediately starting to grow again. The arrow which had been culling insects like it was pesticide rapidly grew it size. From the size of an arrow, to that of a baton, and even further.

The same moment in which it finally returned to the size of a normal spear, was the same moment that Seth wrapped his hand around the metallic shaft of his unfortunately named [Little Prick].

He pressed his body tight against the spear, holding it against his chest and locking his angles around the shaft, like he was a witch riding their broom. Riding this deadly, metallic broom Seth kept his speed, piercing through the air as he rapidly approached Omelette, and began to swerve through the swarming crowds.

When he couldn't dodge, Seth simply sliced his falchion in the air, literally carved his way through the swarming horde of human sized insects. Whether it was by blades of cold steel or salty water, the swarm was cleaved in two whenever they barred his path.

As he finally reached his precious pet, his face completely covered in disgusting, slimy green blood, Seth increased his altitude ever so slightly so that he sailed over the top of the Wyvern. He shifted on his steel 'broom', planting his feet against it before leaping backwards off of it.

He let the spear continue on its course, as it shot through the bodies of the ants which circled his pet like vultures, turning them into fresh shish kababs.

Whilst he fell, Seth was surrounded by a swarm of his own. The Manticore spikes swirled around him, like planets caught in the orbit of a star, and lashed out at anything that dared to draw close to him.

Finally, he landed on Omelette's back, tucking into a roll to stabilise himself and immediately slashing out with his sword as he rose into a crouch, cleaving an ant's head clean off just as it was biting into Omelette's flesh, which had been exposed after some of his steel edged feathers were mercilessly plucked out.

"Keep that out of your fucking mouth."