That was its weakness.
The Alpha Deer lowered its head, snarling, antlers glowing faintly with unstable light. It hadn't realized it yet—hadn't grasped that every shot it fired brought it closer to shattering its own horns.
I knew.
And that knowledge… changed everything.
I stepped forward, legs trembling but refusing to buckle, and raised my voice:
"Alright, big guy. Let's see how much power you can throw without ripping yourself apart."
The plan was simple: push the Alpha Deer until it spent itself dry, until the unstable energy in those antlers snapped them clean off. Simple didn't mean safe. It was reckless, borderline suicidal—but it was all I had left.
The beast snarled, antlers flaring with predatory fury, its eyes locked onto me like it had already claimed my corpse.
"Arrogant insect," it rumbled, its voice like stones grinding together. "I will tear your soul apart and feed it to the forest."
"Geez," I muttered, shifting my stance. "That's dark."
