Clay Klient crouched low behind a thick wall of foliage, his breath steady despite the tension coiling in his muscles. His eyes locked onto the imposing predator prowling through the jungle—a towering beast covered in sleek silver fur streaked with jagged crimson stripes. Each step it took was deliberate, the ground trembling faintly beneath its weight. Its fangs gleamed like ivory scimitars, and its amber eyes glowed with ruthless intelligence.
The monster's nostrils flared as it sniffed the air, clearly hunting. Clay's heartbeat remained steady, though his body screamed for him to run. This wasn't the first beast he had encountered since being reincarnated into this savage world, but it was by far the most formidable.
Let's see what you are, Clay thought, activating his Appraiser skill.
A translucent screen shimmered into existence before his eyes.
[Bloodstripe Tyrant]
Level: 32
Abilities: Bloodlust Roar, Crimson Slash, Enhanced Regeneration
Description: A territorial apex predator with unmatched speed and relentless aggression. Extremely hostile.
Clay swallowed hard. The Bloodstripe Tyrant was at least twice his current level. Engaging it directly would be suicidal. He tightened his grip on the makeshift spear in his hand—crafted from a sturdy branch with a sharp stone bound tightly to one end. It wasn't much, but it had saved his life more than once.
Domination might work, Clay mused, considering his trump card skill. However, using it against such a powerful creature would require immense mental focus, and any mistake could be fatal.
The beast snarled, its ears twitching as it zeroed in on Clay's general location. Knowing he had mere moments before it charged, Clay scanned the area. To his left was a dense thicket—too risky to navigate quickly. To his right, jagged rock formations loomed, with a narrow crevice barely wide enough for a human to slip through.
That's my way out, he decided.
The Bloodstripe Tyrant let out a deafening roar, shaking the jungle canopy. Birds scattered into the sky, their panicked cries echoing through the forest. Clay took a deep breath, then bolted from his hiding spot, sprinting toward the crevice.
The ground quaked as the beast launched itself after him, its claws tearing through vines and foliage with ease. Clay zigzagged, trying to make himself a harder target, but the monster's speed was terrifying. He could feel its hot breath on his back as he neared the narrow passage.
Almost there! Clay thought, adrenaline surging through his veins.
With a desperate leap, he dove into the crevice, scraping his arms against the rough stone walls. The Tyrant skidded to a halt, snarling as it clawed at the entrance, but its massive frame was too large to fit through.
Clay didn't waste a second. He scrambled deeper into the passage, emerging on the other side into a small clearing surrounded by towering rocks. Gasping for breath, he glanced back to see the beast pacing angrily on the other side of the crevice.
"You're stuck," Clay muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Time for round two."
Pulling a second spear from his inventory, Clay quickly carved a series of runes onto its shaft using a sharp rock. His knowledge of this world's magic was limited, but he had observed enough magical beasts to pick up a few tricks.
The Bloodstripe Tyrant roared in frustration, circling around the rocks as it searched for another way to reach him. Clay positioned himself near a narrow path the beast would likely take.
Domination or nothing, he resolved. His body ached from the earlier exertion, but there was no room for hesitation.
As expected, the Tyrant found the path and charged into the clearing with murderous intent. Clay activated his Domination skill, directing a surge of mental energy toward the creature's mind.
The familiar pressure of the skill settled over him, but the resistance was overwhelming. The Tyrant's will was fierce, a primal force that refused to be subdued. Clay gritted his teeth as blood trickled from his nose, the backlash from the failed attempt hitting him hard.
"Damn," he muttered, staggering slightly. "Guess we're doing this the hard way."
The beast roared, its crimson stripes glowing ominously as it prepared to attack. Clay tightened his grip on the rune-carved spear, his mind racing. The runes were unstable—he hadn't perfected the technique—but if they worked, they would amplify the spear's impact.
The Bloodstripe Tyrant lunged, claws slashing through the air. Clay dodged to the side, barely avoiding dismemberment. He retaliated with a swift thrust of his spear, aiming for the creature's shoulder. The weapon struck true, and the runes flared to life.
A surge of energy exploded from the spear, forcing the beast back with a pained snarl. Smoke rose from the wound, but the Tyrant didn't fall. Its enhanced regeneration was already kicking in.
"You've got to be kidding me," Clay groaned.
The beast's eyes blazed with fury as it charged again, undeterred by the injury. Clay knew he had only one shot left. He pulled a small vial from his inventory—a concoction he had crafted using herbs native to this world. It was volatile, but combined with the spear's runes, it might just tip the scales.
As the Tyrant closed in, Clay coated the spearhead with the liquid and hurled it with all his strength. The weapon flew straight and true, embedding itself deep in the creature's chest.
The runes ignited, reacting violently with the potion. A massive explosion rocked the clearing, sending shockwaves through the jungle. Clay was thrown backward, landing hard on the ground.
When the dust settled, the Bloodstripe Tyrant lay motionless, its body charred and broken. Clay dragged himself to his feet, every muscle screaming in protest.
"Guess I win," he muttered, wincing as he wiped blood from his face.
The victory was hard-fought, but it was a testament to how far he had come since his reincarnation. He wasn't just surviving in this world—he was growing stronger.
Clay approached the fallen beast, his Appraiser skill confirming its defeat. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on him, a sense of accomplishment filled his chest.
"One step closer," he said quietly, "to becoming the predator instead of the prey."
With that, Clay began harvesting valuable materials from the Bloodstripe Tyrant's corpse, knowing they would be crucial for future battles in this unforgiving world.