Leon signaled Bud to crouch low behind the brittle golden grass, his paw firm on the young cub's shoulder.
This wasn't a hunt Bud could help with—not yet.
The target was too large. Even though the young African buffalo ahead wasn't fully mature, it was still a behemoth. Nearly a meter and a half long and weighing several hundred kilograms, its muscled body dwarfed Leon's current frame.
A direct hit from one of those heavy horns could rupture organs or worse.
But Leon didn't retreat.
His amber-gold eyes gleamed with ruthless hunger beneath the savanna sun.
He would risk it.
He had to.
His breathing slowed as he sank closer to the earth, each padded pawfall silent over the dust-dried soil. The buffalo grazed ahead, occasionally glancing around with sharp, wide blue-black eyes. It was alone, separated from the herd, perhaps in search of them.
Its ears twitched at every insect hum. Its nostrils flared, but it couldn't catch the scent of its kin. Disoriented and on edge, it wandered, lost, its caution only growing.
Still, hunger drove it to pause and feed.
And this moment of weakness was Leon's opportunity.
Far off, partially concealed behind thorny acacia trees, a camouflaged research truck rumbled faintly under a beige tarp.
Inside, Tiffany, a wildlife researcher from Pretoria, gripped her camera with trembling fingers.
She was twenty-three, golden-haired, and smart-eyed, her fair skin already darkening under the African sun.
Tiffany had been tracking a pride of lions for over a week as part of her doctoral thesis on predation patterns during drought seasons. To share the experience—and earn a bit of extra funding—she streamed it live on her page.
The monotony of tracking movements through the arid landscape had been broken when she spotted a solitary juvenile lion stalking a buffalo calf.
She zoomed in. "It's him again…" she murmured.
The sleek frame, unusually intelligent eyes—she remembered this cub from days ago. Back then, he was only testing his claws on hares and small warthogs. Now?
"This is crazy…" she whispered, watching Leon creep to within five meters of the calf.
Her stream chat burst into life.
[WildWatcher_X]: No way this cub is trying to solo a buffalo…
[BigCatFan45]: Is that the same one from two days ago? Looks way more agile now.[SavannaScholar]: Lions rarely hunt solo at this age. If he pulls this off…
[PredatorQueen]: That calf looks lost. Still dangerous though.
Tiffany didn't reply. She didn't even glance at the screen.
Her lens was locked on the moment.
Leon's body tensed like a spring. He exploded forward.
A golden blur shot from the grass, all claws and muscle.
The young buffalo looked up—
Too late.
Slash!
Leon's claws raked across one of its eyes in a precise, vicious arc.
The buffalo let out a thunderous bellow, thrashing its head and stumbling.
It was hurt—but now furious.
The calf's injured eye dripped blood, and in its pain, it let out a low growl and charged blindly, hooves tearing up dry earth in clumps.
Leon's instinct screamed at him to move.
He darted sideways, narrowly avoiding the deadly arc of a horn. The sheer momentum of the buffalo's charge shook the ground.
[Vitality: -102]
Buffalo's Condition: Minor Eye Trauma. Rage State Active.
A single misstep could have shattered his ribcage.
But Leon didn't falter.
The buffalo twisted its bulky frame, breath flaring hot and wet. Foam flicked from its mouth. Even injured, it wasn't running—it was fighting. The will to survive roared in its bones.
That's what made it dangerous.
Leon watched its hooves sink into the cracked soil, adjusting for another charge.
His golden eyes locked on.
He darted in again—this time faster.
While the buffalo committed to a forward lunge, Leon spun low beneath its arc and sank his fangs into the muscle behind its front leg.
Blood flooded his mouth—warm, rich, real.
The buffalo let out another pained cry and kicked wildly. Leon released his bite, backstepped just in time, and then slashed across the same leg.
The beast stumbled.
[Vitality: -196]
Status: Left Foreleg Mobility Impaired
It wouldn't be able to outrun him now.
And still, it didn't run.
The savanna echoed with its growls and grunts as it tried to remain standing.
Tiffany's breath caught.
Even through the camera, the sound of the struggle was brutal, real, primal.
Blood dripped from Leon's maw. His sides heaved with exhaustion, but his claws dug in again.
This wasn't just about food.
It was evolution.
By the time the buffalo collapsed onto its knees, Leon stood tall over it, scratched, bloodied, but unbroken.
His system chimed faintly in the background:
[Kill Successful – Juvenile Buffalo (Level 6)]
+78 Vitality Points+2 Strength | +1 Agility | +1 Constitution+1 Evolution Point
Progress to Level 6: 98%
The moment echoed with silent triumph.
Tiffany stared, awestruck.
"Who is this lion…?"
Author's note: Try my other work: Orc Disaster: Rise of the Savage Orc King