Ye Shengtao was many things—bovine, unlucky, and destined to be a premium cut of wagyu—but he was not stupid. He knew how these things went. The hero, Fergio, would make a grand entrance, armed with a flashy sword and some nonsense like "For the kingdom!" before slicing through whatever, or whoever, was unlucky enough to be in his way.
That "whoever" was not going to be Ye Shengtao. Not if he had anything to say about it.
The towering trees of the forest loomed around him, casting long shadows in the fading light. A few rays of moonlight filtered through the dense foliage, and with every cautious step, his hooves squelched against the damp earth. As he padded softly through the underbrush, Ye Shengtao strained to listen for any sounds beyond the rustle of leaves and the occasional owl's hoot.
Behind him, the system hummed, floating aimlessly with that ridiculous cow-patterned outfit.
"So, what's the plan, mighty cow?" she chimed, twirling midair. The bell around her neck jingled annoyingly, loud enough to rattle his nerves.
Ye Shengtao wanted to snort, maybe even trample her, but he kept his focus. The last thing he needed was to give away his position. He turned his massive cow head, glaring at the system. "My plan," he whispered harshly, "is to avoid becoming someone's dinner. Starting with not alerting Fergio to my presence."
"Oh, come on. You're a cow, Ye Shengtao. You can't exactly sneak around like some ninja."
That's where you're wrong, he thought.
A cow could sneak.
A cow could be stealthy.
Or maybe not.
After all, nobody expected a cow to pull off a tactical retreat. He pressed his bulky body into the shadows of a nearby oak, feeling the cool bark against his side, and peeked through the leaves.
In the clearing ahead, Fergio was striding through the forest, heroically unaware of Ye Shengtao's existence- for now. The hero's golden armor gleamed even in the low light, which Ye Shengtao found utterly ridiculous. Who wore shining armor in a forest? Did this idiot want to attract every predator in the area?
If anything, Fergio looked like a giant, walking target.
A shiny one.
Good, Ye Shengtao thought. Maybe the wolves will get him before he gets me.
Fergio paused, unsheathing his sword dramatically, as if preparing for some grand speech. "Come out, villain!" His voice echoed through the trees, full of self-righteous determination.
Ye Shengtao nearly rolled his eyes. Seriously? This guy can't be real.
"Is he talking to us?" The system asked, eyes wide, as if they were the main characters in this show.
"No. He's monologuing to himself," Ye Shengtao replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "It's what heroes do."
But the hero was far too close for comfort now, and Ye Shengtao's heart pounded in his chest—a sensation he wasn't used to in his bovine body. He could feel the soft vibration of his bell shaking with his every breath, and panic rose in his throat.
He had to move.
Now.
He nudged the system, motioning for her to float higher into the trees. "Get up there and keep a lookout," he muttered. The last thing he needed was her jingling away beside him, announcing their position like some walking, cow-patterned alarm.
"What about you?" she asked, looking slightly worried for the first time since they'd met.
"I'll manage. Just-" Ye Shengtao paused, feeling the soft wind shift.
Footsteps.
Closer this time. His hooves moved before his brain did, and he darted left into a dense thicket, hoping the brush would hide his bulk.
Leaves brushed against his sides, and a few brambles snagged at his fur, but he didn't stop. His instincts were screaming at him to run faster, to keep moving, to avoid whatever hero-induced disaster was looming behind him. Heroes were bad news. They brought nothing but trouble, death, and really inconvenient plotlines involving beef.
He ducked behind a large boulder just as Fergio's heavy boots stomped into the clearing. The hero paused again, scanning the area with those obnoxiously confident eyes. He waved his sword around as if trying to sense some evil aura or demonic presence.
Ye Shengtao peeked out from behind the rock, watching as Fergio furrowed his brow in confusion. "Where are you, foul creature? I know you're here somewhere…"
Fergio's voice was tinged with frustration now, his sword swinging wildly at the air as though the villain would magically appear if he waved it hard enough.
Carefully, Ye Shengtao tiptoed—or, more accurately, tip-hooved—around the edge of the clearing, his massive body surprisingly nimble as he kept low to the ground. Fergio was still muttering something about justice and light and blah blah blah… Ye Shengtao tuned him out. He needed to stay focused. One wrong move, and he'd end up on a plate.
The system floated down beside him, still grinning. "You're doing great, steak boy!"
"Shut. Up." Ye Shengtao hissed through clenched teeth.
He moved forward, keeping his movements fluid and silent, every step carefully placed to avoid the crunchy leaves and twigs that littered the forest floor. His heart pounded in his ears, drowning out everything but the sound of his own breathing and the distant footsteps of Fergio.
Suddenly, a branch snapped behind him. His ears perked up, his body freezing in place.
Crap.
Fergio stopped mid-sentence, his head snapping in Ye Shengtao's direction. "Who's there?" he shouted, his voice full of righteous fury. His eyes narrowed, scanning the treeline for any movement. Ye Shengtao's muscles tensed, ready to bolt if he needed to, but he held his ground, barely breathing.
Fergio stepped closer, his sword raised, ready to strike. The hero's golden armor clinked softly with every movement, and the air around them grew tense, thick with anticipation.
Ye Shengtao swallowed hard, his mouth dry as the hero approached.
This is it, he thought. I'm going to die.
But just as Fergio was about to reach the spot where Ye Shengtao was hiding, a sudden rustling came from the opposite direction. Both Ye Shengtao and Fergio turned their heads at the same time.
And then made eye contact.
Uh Oh.