The sun sank in the west as a great fire broke out and spread rapidly.
"Damn it, we came all this way for nothing. This village really is dirt-poor."
As a band of mountain bandits plundered a small village, their chief curled his lip from atop his horse.
A lesser leader chimed in, equally displeased:
"Yeah, hardly any grain or wine. So poor you can't even find a rat. What rotten luck."
To vent his frustration, he even killed two more innocent villagers.
"Fuck, all that work for nothing."
This place lay on the outskirts of the Fire Country, unlike its barren interior of volcanoes and rocks.
It was a transitional region between the desolate volcanoes and green mountains and clear waters.
The land had originally been just arable enough to support quite a few villagers.
Unfortunately, after this raid by mountain bandits, no one would move to this area again for a very long time.
"Brothers, we're pulling out."
The chief gave the order.
"Right, boss."
The vicious bandits could only reluctantly take their meager spoils and leave the village, which was ablaze and reeking of blood, before night fell.
The smell of blood could easily attract mountain spirits and monsters.
Just then, however, a sharp-eyed bandit spotted something unusual on the sunset-red horizon:
"What's that?"
"Looks like a flock of birds."
"What a huge flock..."
They had yet to realize that danger was approaching at tremendous speed.
Only when the flock drew near did the bandits clearly see that they were enormous, pterosaur-like birds, each half as tall as a person. (They looked more like the small Zoga in the ancient ruins of R'lyeh in the Ultraman Tiga movie.)
At the sight of these demon birds, the chief's expression changed drastically:
"Oh no, a flock of demon birds!