Hidden behind a thick bush, I silently observed a group of creatures that resembled buffalo. There were six, maybe seven of them, with massive bodies covered in coarse, dark fur, and curved horns that glinted faintly in the light filtering through the canopy above. They grazed calmly in a clearing just ahead, completely unaware of our presence.

Of course, it’s not like we’d left the forest behind. Honestly, I’ve stopped thinking that was even possible. Wherever we are, everything just seems... continuous. Infinite. Like the entire world is nothing but trees, roots, and shadows. There’s no “outside” no edge — only forest. Deep, endless, and ancient in its silence.

Anyway, about the monsters... like I said, they looked a lot like buffalo — at least, in general shape. But there were some pretty major differences. The most obvious one was their size. I’ve never seen a real buffalo up close, only in photos or videos, but from what I know, they top out around six feet tall.

These things, though... they were enormous. Easily over eight feet tall, maybe even more. Broad-shouldered, thickly muscled, and with such an overwhelming presence that you could feel the ground subtly tremble whenever they moved. They looked like monstrous, twisted versions of something nature had already made — like someone had taken the original blueprint and gone completely overboard with it.

Their horns, for example, looked like they were made of some kind of dark, polished metal, as if they’d been forged by hand in some ancient furnace. And the shape — it was the strangest part. They curved forward in an aggressive arc, like scythes ready to reap anything that got in their way.

Long story short, getting hit by one of those would be a nightmare. Honestly, I was pretty sure it’d feel more like being plowed down by a speeding armored train. And as usual, even with my [Identify] ability active, all I could see were their names and levels — nothing else.

[Iron Buffalo - Level 20]

[Iron Buffalo - Level 19]

[Iron Buffalo - Level 20]

[Iron Buffalo - Level 18]

[Iron Buffalo - Level 17]

[Iron Buffalo - Level 19]

Maybe it was irony, or some cruel joke by fate, but yeah — the names actually had something to do with buffalo. All in all, their levels weren’t especially low, but they weren’t terrifyingly high either.

Compared to that bear we fought when we took over the cave — which, let’s be honest, was no walk in the park — these monsters seemed a little less threatening. Not exactly harmless, but definitely below the average level that me, Alice, Oliver, and Ethan had reached so far.

As my peripheral vision — both left and right — stayed locked on the same scene ahead, a voice spoke up beside me. Calm and just a little sarcastic, it was instantly familiar.

“They’re pretty big” Ethan muttered, followed by a soft whistle, barely audible — just loud enough for the rest of us nearby to hear. There was something in the way he said it... a mix of admiration and tension, like he was trying to lighten the mood but not quite succeeding.

If I’m being honest, we were all still afraid of monsters. I mean, they were — not me. Because of my condition, fear just doesn’t exist for me. It’s like a long-forgotten feeling — hollow, distant.

But the others... they still felt it. And yet, there was something different about them now. Maybe it was just the simple fact that they knew they had to be strong — that weakness had no place in this world.

Or maybe it was the quiet comfort of knowing they weren’t alone — that, despite everything, they had each other’s backs. And that, somehow, kept them grounded. It wasn’t courage in the traditional sense. It was something rougher, more human. A kind of strength built on fear, but held up by the silent hope of making it through another day.

Next to Ethan, Oliver — who’d been quietly watching the scene with narrowed eyes — finally broke the silence. His voice was barely a whisper, like he was talking to himself, but precise, like someone used to making calculations like this: “The bigger the target, the more weak points it has...” he murmured, eyes still locked on the clearing: “Either way, if we stick exactly to the plan, we should be able to take them all out before they even realize something’s wrong”

We nodded slightly at Oliver’s words. After all, we’d pulled it off before — against people, at least. And from my point of view, if we could handle humans — clever, unpredictable, capable of strategy — then monsters that relied purely on instinct and had little to no intelligence should be way easier to deal with.

As those thoughts jumbled around in my head, Oliver — still silent beside me — made a smooth, almost ceremonial gesture with his arm, just enough for the others to notice.

His gaze swept across the group calmly, like he was waiting for silent confirmation before ending our short moment of stillness. Then, in a steady but composed voice, he asked: “Everyone ready?”

No one answered — we all just nodded. Words felt unnecessary at that point. Oliver made the same nod, then slowly turned his eyes toward Alice, his expression quiet but resolute, as if silently conveying full confidence.

“Go ahead” he said, voice low. Follow current novᴇls on ɴovelfire.net

At his signal, Alice gave a firm nod. She slowly raised her hand, and a soft glow began to pulse from her fingertips — faint, almost ghostlike. In the next moment, the conscious mist returned, as subtle as before, drifting forward like a living entity.

Slowly, she moved toward the buffaloes, gliding through the air with an almost hypnotic grace. Gradually, the mist wrapped around the animals, cloaking them in a nearly invisible veil, blending perfectly with the fog already present in the area—as if it were part of the environment itself.

The buffaloes, as if sensing an invisible presence, raised their heavy necks in unison. Their sharp eyes scanned the surroundings while their ears twitched restlessly, flicking from side to side, catching even the faintest of sounds. The air grew heavier in that moment, charged with a silent tension.

But after a few seconds of vigilance, they slowly returned to grazing, as if nothing had happened—as if the weight of danger had simply drifted away with the wind. Watching that, we all let out a collective sigh of relief. We knew there were likely monsters out there immune to Alice’s abilities, but at least for now, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Looks like it worked just fine” Alice whispered, releasing a breath that seemed to carry the full weight of the tension she’d been holding: “I’ll set up more supports as the situation demands, but for now, blinding their vision should give us a solid edge without drawing too much attention”

We all nodded in agreement. That was exactly how we’d planned to conduct our fights from the beginning. Sure, we’d need to adjust our methods constantly as we gained new abilities moving forward, but the foundation of our strategy would likely remain the same.

Alice would keep distracting and weakening the enemies, opening a path for Oliver to strike from afar with precision. Ethan would stay as our wild card, appearing exactly where he was most needed. And I would remain our main stealth attacker, working from the shadows.

None of us had any issues with those roles—they made the most of our individual strengths. So there was no reason to second-guess the plan. Even so, right before we moved, Oliver gave us a sharp glance, gauging our expressions. In return, we met his gaze firmly—a silent exchange of trust.

“Let’s just stick to the plan. Nothing more, nothing less” Oliver said firmly, his eyes fixed on the horizon. With one smooth, practiced motion, he drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it on his bow, fingers tightening around the string as he took a deep breath, preparing for what was to come.

There were no more words—none were needed. In silence, I activated [Silent Steps], and with a calm that felt almost unnatural, I began moving both of my bodies toward the buffaloes. Each body set its sights on a different target, keeping a precise distance of several meters between them.

The air grew thick with tension as, nearly simultaneously, both unsheathed their daggers. A faint metallic glint shimmered across the blades, catching the low light of the environment, as I advanced, each step measured and quiet, preparing for the decisive moment.

Then, I triggered my newly acquired skill: [Predatory Gaze]. It was my first time using it, and as the world around me unfolded in layered, overlapping dimensions, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and fascination. What I saw was both surreal and striking—like I was peering into a different plane of existence.

My focus turned first to the buffaloes grazing nearby. Their massive bodies were partially shrouded in dense shadows, but their outlines glowed with a pale, ethereal white that highlighted every muscle and movement. But that wasn’t what drew my attention most.

Running from the base of each buffalo’s neck down toward its belly was a vibrant red line that pulsed with a life of its own. At the very top of the line—right at the neck—was a glowing point, radiant like a beacon, marking the perfect spot to strike.

I didn’t need to think. From the moment I activated the skill, I instinctively understood how to use it to maximum efficiency—as if someone had embedded a tactical map directly into my mind. In other words, I knew exactly when and how to act.

Since my attacks were only effective at close range, we had agreed that our battles would begin the moment I struck first. Without hesitation, I activated [Precise Strike].

Instantly, both daggers in the hands of my two bodies lit up with a deep, vivid red glow—absorbing a silent, deadly energy. In the very next second, I directed each one toward a buffalo, not waiting for a reaction—the battle had already begun.

My attack was swift and clean. Guiding my dagger, I aimed straight at the bright point on the buffalo’s neck. Everything happened in a blink.

As the blade pierced the animal’s throat, its body shuddered—but it wasn’t an act of aggression, just a reflexive response to the pain. Still, that was just the start. Without pause, I dragged the blade downward in one fluid motion, carving a deep, fatal gash into its neck.

*You have slain [Iron Buffalo – lvl 19] – XP gained. XP shared with your party. 19 TP obtained*

*You have slain [Iron Buffalo – lvl 18] – XP gained. XP shared with your party. 18 TP obtained*

A moment later, the bodies of both buffaloes began to collapse, slowly tipping toward the ground. Before they could fall completely, I caught them carefully, lifting just enough to lower them gently to the earth.

I moved with extreme caution, controlling each motion to avoid making even the slightest sound that could alarm the others nearby. Once both bodies were placed down, I exhaled slowly, instinctively relaxing my shoulders. I turned my head slowly, scanning the area.

The rest of the buffaloes, gathered a short distance away, seemed uneasy—not panicked, but something in their posture, the stiffness in their muscles, and the way they flicked their ears suggested alertness. It was like they sensed something in the air that their eyes couldn’t see.

Still, they weren’t in full alert. Most likely, they were simply being cautious—survivors relying on instinct. And most importantly, from what I could tell, they hadn’t noticed anything unusual. Not yet.

In the next instant, my eyes shifted backward, instinctively drawn by a faint rustle coming from a bush near a thick-trunked tree. Beneath its shade, partially hidden by the foliage, Oliver stood — silent and focused.

In his steady hands, the bow was already drawn, and the tip of the arrow glinted faintly in the light filtering through the canopy above. He aimed with pinpoint precision at one of the buffalo, his gaze locked and unwavering, as if time itself had slowed down just for him.