Bearhorns weren't the worst you could encounter in a rift. Surely, they were dangerous as they could withstand several attacks with their thick pelt and leather skin. But unlike other beasts that tend to hunt in packs or hordes, bearhorns acted alone.

As long as we were careful and took them on one by one, we wouldn’t encounter any problems. The most dangerous thing about bearhorns was the horns they were named after. While their build mostly resembles the bears we know, they owned a single horn in the middle of their forehead. If these beasts managed to charge with full speed, they easily could shatter shields or armors. 

So basically, bearhorn hunting consists of three major rules. First, don’t give them the opportunity to charge at you. Second, make sure you attack them separately while no other bearhorn is close enough to react. Third, while one member takes on the full attention, the other members of the rifters corp must strike fast. Things could turn ugly if the fight dragged on. 

For me, my course of action is simple. I need to be careful not to be caught up in monsters attacks while I ensure the health of my friends. It’s not like a healer has an easy or relaxing job, but I don’t have to throw myself into close combat.

So, as long as the other teammates are still alive, I rarely have to attack or defend myself with the rod. Healers rarely developed any offensive abilities. I was able to summon a few sparks that could stun a monster under favorable circumstances, but apart from that, I didn’t own a single offensive spell. Thanks to this, a healer who lost all other members had basically no chances of survival. 

Greg moved forward, following the traces the bearhorns left on the muddy trail. We had to be especially careful not to make any unnecessary sounds as our boots sank into the mud. Luck seemed to be our accomplice this time as no beast approached us.

The path became sturdier when small pebbles superseded the uneven ground. The air felt chillier around us, our breath created small clouds. We had walked around for some time, when Greg signalled us the sight of the first beast. 

The sidearm of the cave, it walked around in, was narrow — a great advantage for us. It wouldn’t get a chance to charge at us as long as we attacked swiftly.

Greg held out three fingers and removed one by one to simulate a countdown for action. Once the countdown ended, he stormed into the cave and held his shield up. The aggravated bearhorn roared, the claws crashed into Greg’s shield.
“Now!”, he shouted.

He didn’t have to ask twice. Pam’s Fireball flew right at the bearhorns head, scorching its eyes and distracting it. Charles’ sword awaited this opening. While the beast couldn’t monitor his movements, he plunged his weapon into its neck.

The bearhorn growled, threw his head from left to right. Its horn and claws tried to catch our fighters, but it was unable to discern their exact positions. Greg put his weight in his shield, smashing it into the bearhorns face. 

Pam focused on Charles’ weapon, her fire circling the blade. Thanks to Charles’ fireproof gloves, he didn’t have trouble driving the sword deeper, even though the metal started to glow. The heat helped the weapon to move through the layers of muscle until it finally penetrated the beat’s throat. 

The bearhorn tried to scream, but the sound could no longer be produced. A last agony filled burble, a desperate attempt to reach the enemy with the claws, then the large body collapsed before us.

Charles pressed his boots against the carcass to unleash the blade from its neck. We didn’t celebrate the beast's demise. Rather, we looked into each other's eyes, realizing we survived another battle together. 

“It’s too early to relax,” Charles reminded us. “We will surely encounter more of them while exploring. Let’s move quickly. The scent of blood may lure in other predators.”

None of us argued with that. We resumed our walk through the cave’s interior, checking every path. After a while, we found another bearhorn in another cavern.

This place was far more spacious, so preferably we would have avoided combat here. There is no meaning in fighting a battle that could easily become your last. Greg motioned us to sneak past it, as long as it hadn’t noticed us yet. We moved as silently as possible, treading carefully on the small pebbles. 

Running might have been a better option instead.

When we saw the eyes glimmer in the dark path behind the bearhorn, we couldn’t tell their origin. The giant lizard rushed forward, its head lunged like a snake, that engulfed its prey. Though the bearhorn didn’t fit fully into its jaw, a single bit was all it took to kill it. The horned bear couldn’t even scream before death claimed it.

Our bodies stiffened. The lizard's gaze didn’t stick with its prey. The green crystals jumped over to us as it hopped over the bearhorn’s carcass. Dammit! How could a beast this size move so fast? 

Its giant build resembled a Komodo dragon vaguely. But unlike with Komodo dragons, its claws were significantly larger with sharper nails that one would have expected from raptors. Alone, the thought they could easily tear our bodies apart made my flesh crawl.