The opponent's stubbornness and hostility caused Maine to lose his patience. He could see that this Na'vi warrior wasn't being unreasonable; rather, he held a value system entirely different from humanity's, one rooted deeply in the planet's ecology. However, in the current conflict, these values were obstructive.
"Put away your bow and leave," Maine's voice turned cold. "Otherwise, I don't mind letting you experience what a real 'expulsion' feels like."
Provoked by Maine's challenge, the Na'vi hunter let out a low growl. He dropped his longbow, drew a bone dagger from his waist, and lunged at Maine with the agility of a cheetah and a surge of primal strength.
To Maine, however, the movement was riddled with openings. He didn't even use a weapon. Stepping aside to dodge the thrust, his right hand clamped onto the hunter's wrist like a steel vise. With a twist and a controlled sweep kick to the supporting leg joint, he neutralized the attack.
A dull snap echoed, followed by a muffled groan of pain. The hunter's massive frame lost balance and was slammed into the ground by Maine's momentum, his bone blade skittering away. Maine's knee immediately pinned the hunter's back, locking him firmly to the earth. The entire sequence took less than three seconds.
The Na'vi hunter struggled fiercely, but Maine's strength far exceeded his imagination. That seemingly ordinary human frame contained the terrifying power of high-level cybernetic modification and relentless training. His eyes were filled with humiliation and disbelief.
Maine did not deliver a killing blow; he merely maintained control. The fact that this Na'vi spoke English was a highly valuable piece of intelligence.
"You speak our language," Maine looked down at him. "Who taught you?"
The pinned hunter only panted with rage, refusing to answer.
At that moment, the shaken RDA squad leader, while supporting his wounded comrade, gasped out to Maine: "Thank... thank you. This guy—he probably learned it at Dr. Grace's school."
"School?" Maine looked toward him.
"Yes... it was a long time ago," the RDA leader's expression turned complex. "Back then... when we first came to Pandora, things weren't like they are now."
After confirming the perimeter was safe, Maine had Dorio and Rebecca maintain a lookout while Falco tended to the RDA soldiers' wounds. The captured Na'vi hunter remained under restraint, his golden eyes still burning with stubborn defiance.
The RDA squad leader, a young sergeant named Miller, sat back against a tree and began to recount the story, as if needing to vent to calm his nerves or explain to these powerful "allies" that the current situation didn't happen overnight.
"It was over ten years ago," Miller said, his voice filled with reminiscence. "Back when the RDA had just gained a foothold. Hell's Gate was still in its early construction phase. The corporate policy—at least on the surface—favored peaceful research and coexistence."
He pointed to the pinned hunter. "Many young Na'vi like him were allowed by their clans to attend the 'school' near our base. It was led by a scientist named Dr. Grace Augustine. She was... stubborn, but she genuinely wanted to understand the Na'vi and Pandora."
"The school taught them English, basic human technology, and tried to understand their culture and their connection to Eywa—the planetary consciousness they believe in. Back then, we even had a landmark project called the 'Avatar' program."
A glint of past pride flickered in Miller's eyes. "Through genetic engineering, they combined human DNA with Na'vi DNA to grow biological surrogates. Pilots could link their consciousness to these Avatars, breathing, running, and even communicating with them like real Na'vi."
"Relations weren't so tense then," another older RDA soldier added. "We helped them build sturdy shelters and offered medical aid—at least we tried. The higher-ups probably thought that through cultural and technical output, they could influence them to accept us, maybe even voluntarily give up land for mining."
"Mining..." Miller's tone darkened. "That's where the problem started. The room-temperature superconductor underground, Unobtanium, is just too valuable. As the base expanded, the demand for ore skyrocketed. Excavation inevitably encroached on the forests the Na'vi consider sacred, destroying their Hometrees and disturbing their spirit animals."
"They began to resist strongly," the older soldier took over. "From initial protests to small-scale skirmishes. They believed we were slaughtering the forest, tearing open the skin of the Great Mother, and disrupting the balance of Eywa. And we—the company—gradually lost patience. They viewed these 'blue monkeys' as irrational obstacles to 'progress' and 'development'."
"Dr. Grace and the others tried to mediate, to find a way to coexist... but it didn't work." Miller shook his head. "The conflict of interest was too great. Hardliners like Colonel Quaritch gained the upper hand, and corporate headquarters moved toward more aggressive means. The school closed long ago, and the Avatar program... I heard it shifted toward military applications. Our relationship with the Na'vi deteriorated step by step to what it is now—a fight to the death."
He glanced at the hunter on the ground. "He might have been one of those kids who learned English in the school. Now, he's an enemy trying to take our lives with a knife and bow."
A brief silence fell over the scene, broken only by the forest's ambient sounds. Maine's team listened quietly; they weren't interested in human internal drama, but this information helped them understand the landscape of the conflict.
The hunter's eyes flickered when Miller mentioned Dr. Grace and the Avatar program, but the flicker was quickly drowned by deeper rage. He hissed, "You promised peace, promised respect! But your machines never stop devouring the forest! Your lies are sharper than a Viperwolf's teeth!"
Maine released his hold but remained alert. The hunter scrambled up, clutching his arm, and glared at every human present, including Maine's team.
"Eywa will witness your crimes!" he spat out, picking up his blade and bow before vanishing into the glowing forest without looking back.
Maine did not stop him. A living Na'vi who understood English and felt such intense rage might be more valuable than a corpse—whether as a future source of intel or as a catalyst to further alienate the clans from all "Sky People."
"We should head back too," Maine said to the RDA squad. "Can you walk?"
Sergeant Miller nodded quickly. "Yes, thank you—if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have made it today. Regarding today... and that Na'vi... we'll report it to the base."
Maine remained noncommittal. Whether they reported it mattered little. What mattered was the critical intelligence they had gathered.