The Razorclaw Beast was dead, its lifeless body sprawled on the forest floor. The forest had returned to its eerie silence, but the air around us felt charged. The group was still standing in stunned silence, eyes locked on the creature, then shifting back to me. I didn't wait for their congratulations. That wasn't what I was here for.
The group eventually began to move again, circling the beast to examine the kill. Reynard stepped forward first, his eyes narrowing at the precision of the shot.
"That was... impressive," he admitted, his voice colder than usual. "Didn't expect you to be that good."
"Don't get used to it," I replied coolly, keeping my distance as I adjusted the gun. "I prefer to stay out of the spotlight."
But that wasn't going to be the end of it.
Ilya approached next, her gaze sharp as always. "You didn't hesitate."
"Why would I?" I said with a shrug. "A shot's a shot. It's either hit or miss."
She didn't seem satisfied with the answer, but she said nothing else. Instead, she examined the creature's corpse, running her fingers along the thick hide, and then glanced back at me. "You're different from what I expected."
"Most people are," I muttered under my breath, my eyes scanning the perimeter. I wasn't here to make friends or allies, and I certainly wasn't here to indulge in small talk.
Dain Ashford, the hulking figure who had been silent until now, stepped forward with a loud grunt. "Impressive, yeah. But there's no telling what else could be lurking in these woods. You better keep that gun handy."
"Don't worry," I said, glancing at him. "I'll be fine."
A sharp snap echoed through the woods, followed by the rustling of leaves. Everyone froze.
"Stay alert," Ilya's voice was low and commanding, as she signaled the group to get into a defensive stance.
I didn't need to be told. My eyes darted to the shadows, searching for movement. Whatever was out there, it was close.
Then, through the trees, I saw it—a glint of sharp teeth, eyes gleaming in the dark, and the unmistakable sound of claws scraping against the ground. Another creature.
But this one was different.
It was a shadow—a large, menacing shape, cloaked in dark energy. Its eyes were a sickly yellow, almost glowing in the dim light. It didn't move like the Razorclaw. It was far more sinister, its form shifting unnaturally.
"Stay back," Ilya ordered. But I wasn't listening. I had already made up my mind.
I wasn't here to be a part of their little group hunt. This creature was something else, something beyond the usual beasts they were used to encountering.
Without a word, I turned, my eyes locking onto the creature's movements. My time-slowing ability flickered to life again, and in an instant, the world around me slowed. The creature's claws scraped against the ground, its movements heavy, but I could see them clearly now.
I aimed and fired, the bullet streaking through the air, finding its mark.
But it didn't fall.
The creature's form shimmered and rippled as the bullet passed through it, as if it wasn't fully solid. Something was wrong. The attack hadn't worked.
I didn't have time to think. The creature lunged toward us, its claws extending as it slashed through the air. I snapped my gaze to the others, who were still frozen, watching in disbelief.
Time was moving in slow motion, but not for the creature. I needed to act quickly before it closed the gap.
I focused on the distance between us, my ability allowing me to track its every move, every shift in the air. I moved to the side, keeping my gun trained on the beast. This time, I didn't waste time with the shot. I fired again, this time at the space around its head.
A direct hit.
The creature screeched, its form flickering once more before it dissolved into a black mist, vanishing as if it were never there. The air settled, the tension lifting, and the group finally began to move again.
"Did you just—?" Reynard started, his voice trailing off in confusion.
I nodded, not bothering to explain further. "I'm done here."
Ilya glanced at me, her expression unreadable. "That was no ordinary beast."
"I know," I replied simply, reloading my gun. "But it's gone now."
The group didn't push further, but I could feel their eyes on me. They weren't sure what to make of me—of my abilities or my detachment. I didn't care.
There was only one thing I was certain of: I wasn't going to be part of their hero's journey. The more I got involved, the more I risked losing control of the narrative.
As the group continued with the hunt, I stayed back, my mind already focused on the next move. The plot was shifting, and I wasn't about to let it pull me into something I couldn't control.