I swaggered across the battlefield gloating in the thrill of victory.
They might come again but I would be ready for them. I had cut them down to within an inch of their lives (or a couple of centimeters if you are metrically inclined).
Alas, what a fool! My guard had dropped. They had mercenaries lying in ambush ready to strike back when I least expected it.
As I approached the sacred fruit tree with a view to netting it and warding off aerial attacks (birds, but it could be worse) they struck a low blow such as their kind is capable of. The first wound was to the ankle. Then the thigh. How fast these mercenaries can move! As I brushed off the first wave of attackers more swarmed around and one struck at my hand. I knew it was time to retreat and lick my wounds (or perhaps seek a more hygienic treatment).
These warriors were big, fast and fearsome. Their weaponry delivered a very painful wound.
You don’t want to mess with Bull Ants (Myrmecia) if you can avoid it.