My gaze slid up toward its head, trying to figure out how such a strange creature fit into this world.

  Its face had some resemblance to a rat’s, but its snout was wide—surprisingly wide—closer to a cow’s. I saw no ears, only two bumps atop its skull that could have been horns, if not for the holes in them.

  Maybe those were its ears—or something that served the same purpose, adapted in a way completely alien to anything I knew.

  When it roared, its jaws unfolded like those of a gulper fish: huge, disproportionate, and inside shone curved, lethal teeth—familiar as a crocodile’s, ready to tear flesh apart with brutal efficiency.

  Its red eyes held no trace of reason; there was no judgment in them, only madness and an uncontrollable thirst to gut the one who’d caused it pain.

  It was strange to see—and even harder to describe.

  At that moment, it became clear: I wasn’t looking at an adult, but at a young and inexperienced specimen, unable to keep its composure when caught off guard.

  Still in the middle of learning, this juvenile had cornered an entire herd of adult goats, who were barely managing to keep it at bay. It was chilling to imagine what an adult of its kind might be capable of.

  How many "mes" would it take to kill it? Or better yet—how many of my corpses would litter the ground in the attempt? After all, it would take only one of those goats to annihilate me.

  While I got lost in grim projections about my own future, the herd had already moved. Despite their short legs, they moved with surprising speed, and in an instant, the mutant T-Rex—still lost in its own display of ferocity—was completely surrounded.

  The scene reminded me of those rare times when a herd of African buffalo manages to circle a lion: a creature made for hunting, suddenly outdone by the determination of its prey.

  If I’d been in that rat’s wrinkled skin, I would’ve done anything to avoid being surrounded—even fled in sheer panic if necessary. But the animal stood its ground, defiant, as if it still believed its claws were enough to dominate.

  The goats didn’t waste time. A spike of earth exploded beneath the beast, aiming to impale it. From a distance, I could almost hear the tac-tac-tac of hooves setting the rhythm of the siege. They attacked from every angle with fascinating, deadly coordination.

  But this creature wasn’t easy to defeat. It moved like a seasoned dancer, dodging and using its claws to shred every attack beneath its feet. Nothing had touched it so far; it looked like it had everything under control.

  “GRAAAARR!”

  A solid rock icicle slammed into its head with a brutal impact, and as if it were echoing the raw sound of its own roar, blood burst from one of its eyes. A single moment of carelessness… and the poor bastard was blind in one eye.

  That kind of attack was new to me—but it shouldn’t have been new to that thing.

  For a moment, I felt sorry for it: clearly a young creature that had risked its life in order to gain experience, and now that stupid bravery had cost it its left eye.

  The herd, on the other hand—whose survival had at first seemed to hinge on the predator’s whim—had managed to twist its fate. What started as a suicidal defense was now turning into a hunt.

  The attacks didn’t stop for even a second. Icicles rained down on the one-eyed beast with ruthless precision, while spikes of earth harassed its legs without respite. The roles had reversed, and now the balance tipped toward the herbivores.

  With the advantage on their side and a clear intent to turn the monster into a bleeding pincushion, the herd moved with a coordination that could only come from experience.

  The fact that Kairon had brought dinner without a scratch had made me wrongly assume these deer were easy prey, dangerous only to a weak human like me. But in that moment, I realized I had underestimated the goats—and overestimated the rat.

  The stunned creature tried to fight back, but its movements were no longer as fluid, and the wounds were piling up fast. Blood ran in fine rivulets down its body, and its actions grew more erratic by the second. Still, its gaze didn’t waver. Despite the desperate situation, the ferocity of its attacks and the bloodthirst in its eyes as it looked at its “prey” remained intact.

  For a brief instant, I thought the predator might still have an ace up its sleeve—something that could help it escape the siege. But considering everything I’d seen, that seemed unlikely. It didn’t strike me as a hunter who relied on magic, but rather on the sheer brutality of its body as its only weapon.

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  Its uncanny ability to blend into the darkness—the same it had used while stalking the deer—seemed more like a trait of its species than a magical gift.

  I admit I had started to think that every animal in this place could use magic, but that assumption was based on observing just three species. It wouldn’t be surprising if some creatures here survived solely through raw power.

  There’s still far too much I don’t know about this place. After all, in this world… I’m barely a newborn.

  To be fair, had it not been for its recklessness—born of inexperience and overconfidence—maybe the fight would already be over in its favor… and one of those deer would be resting in its belly.

  The leader of the goats had been lurking, waiting for a blind spot—an opening that would allow for a killing blow—and when the opportunity came, it didn’t hesitate. The animal launched itself like a spring-loaded projectile, using its strong legs as if they were tightly wound coils.

  “GARRRRRRRR!”

  Another sharp cry from the rat-like beast tore through the silence of the night—a clear confirmation of the success of the charge.

  The leader’s horns dug deep into the rat’s flesh. However, the blow wasn’t enough to kill it, leaving the goat vulnerable to the brutal counterattack from its opponent, which the beast didn’t waste.

  “BRAHHH!”

  At the sound of their leader’s cry, the herd redoubled its attacks, but the deformed creature seemed unfazed. It had completely abandoned any defense. At that moment, its only purpose seemed to be killing the deer that had led it to this disadvantaged and painful position, even if that meant its own death.

  The problem was that its vengeance came too late. Gravely wounded, it no longer had the strength to deliver a fatal blow. Still, its claws remained extremely sharp, and each swipe left deep wounds on the leader’s body.

  While the rest of the herd maintained the pressure, the leader continued writhing—perhaps in pain, or maybe trying to sink his horns deeper. In any case, it all came down to one question: Who would fall first?

  The battle had reached its climax, and everyone present was aware of it.

  Frankly, I didn’t understand why the other goats didn’t charge the monster the way their leader had. If they had, the battle would have already been over.

  Watching the leader being torn apart bit by bit was enough proof of how dangerous this predator was… but now it was nothing more than a bleeding sack of meat waiting to be cut down. It no longer defended itself, several spikes had pierced its skin, and only one accurate strike was needed to finish it.

  “MREEEEH!”

  In that moment of confusion, the unmistakable sharp cry of a kid rang through the air, catching us all by surprise.

  "CLANK!"

  The adults nearest the kids reacted instantly. Earth spikes shot up from the ground, attempting to strike the thief… but that wasn’t enough to stop it.

  The attacker, as if mocking the mothers, used the emerging spikes to propel itself into the air, disappearing into the night with the kid in its jaws.

  “MREEEEeeeee...”

  The sharp lament faded slowly, dissolving into the night. The entire herd had been so focused on finishing off the dying monster that they had completely neglected their rear guard.

  Unlike all of us, the cornered rat didn’t stop its actions for a moment and seized the distraction to break free from the encirclement.

  Suddenly, it seemed to regain all of its strength: its claws came down like guillotines, severing the goat leader’s neck as though it were butter. Then, with frenzied momentum, it charged at the nearest deer.

  A dry "CLANK" rang through the prairie. The unfortunate deer blocking its path was thrown through the air as if it weighed nothing.

  Alerted by the impact, the rest of the group tried to react, but it was one second too late. The creature achieved its goal: it escaped, carrying the leader’s head as a trophy impaled on its belly.

  I was stunned by the ever-changing flow of events. The fight had lasted so little time that it was impossible for me to predict this bitter outcome for both sides.

  The goats, fighting to survive and protect their herd, showed a bravery I hadn’t expected; they were not creatures easily intimidated — I would never underestimate them again.

  The rat, on the other hand, fought for food — because a predator weakened by hunger is nothing more than another prey. Its cause was different, perhaps less noble, but the conviction, skill, and ferocity it showed even as a young one made it clear to me why these deformed creatures took the role of predators.

  My only wish while watching this battle to the death — which I considered a welcoming gift — was to gather as much information as possible about my future prey. The bloody spectacle didn’t matter much to me; though brutal, that seemed to be the law of this place, and I had accepted that I would soon be part of it.

  Surely, in these vast prairies, hundreds of similar scenes were taking place right now. Who died was of no interest to me: they were all an important source of information that could save my life in the future. I had to make use of everything within my reach. I couldn’t waste everything Kairon had done for me... I didn’t want to die.

  The hunter failed and ended up badly wounded; whether it lived or died was uncertain. The prey managed to repel its executioner, but they were exhausted, and they had lost a kid... and, even more importantly, their leader. If another predator attacked them at this moment of weakness, the herd’s fate could be sealed.

  Perhaps the decisions made during the battle weren’t the wisest, and the result was a defeat for both sides. But none of that mattered now. Just imagining that one day I might face such a fight — where every movement could decide between life or death — gave me a headache.

  I felt empathy — and pity — for them. They fought fiercely, but in the end, the only ones who gained anything were I, a mere spectator enjoying the show from the safety of the castle, and the clever thief who took the kid.

  Only five seconds passed before the group left the area, not without casting one last glance at their leader’s decapitated body. That male had given his life to protect them. I didn’t know the customs of these animals, but without a doubt, that sacrifice deserved my full respect.

  Should I follow them? I could see if another attack occurred... but the memory of the rat stopped me. My curiosity about what it would do after its failure outweighed any interest in the goats.

  After all, it was a new species, completely unknown. How often did they fail in their hunts? How would it survive now? I couldn’t miss the opportunity to study a dying specimen.

  Would it try to heal? Seek refuge? Or simply crawl away to die in silence?