Nemira headed for the village exit, knife at the ready. The narrow streets of Taviri'Naa came alive with evening bustle—residents returning from fields and workshops, preparing for supper.

  An elderly troll woman with massive tusks, carrying a basket of bright red fruits, nodded amiably to Nemira.

  "Good hunting, daughter!"

  Her voice sounded low and melodious, nothing like the rough growl one might expect from a representative of this species. Nemira smiled in return, feeling unexpected warmth from the simple wish.

  A little further on, a young human in a leather apron raised his hand in greeting. His arms were covered in flour to the elbows, and the scent of freshly baked bread emanated from his clothes.

  "Careful with those creatures! They're craftier than they look!"

  He called out, continuing to knead dough on a wooden table before his shop.

  An orc woman with intricate scars on her ash-grey skin sharpened an axe by the smithy. Hearing Nemira's steps, she raised her head and bared her teeth in something resembling a smile.

  "First hunt? Remember—the strike must be precise and swift. Rabbits are nimble."

  In her yellow eyes could be read a warrior's professional interest in a novice.

  The most unexpected encounter proved a lean elf sitting on the porch of a small house in the shade of a spreading tree. His silver hair was gathered in a tight knot, whilst long fingers plucked the strings of some instrument resembling a lute.

  "May your blade be swift, and your steps soundless."

  He spoke without looking up from the instrument. The melody he played sounded both mournful and encouraging.

  Livien understood such benevolent treatment from the villagers was scripted in their algorithms, yet she liked it nonetheless. Deep down, though she couldn't admit this to herself.

  The girl left the last buildings of the village behind and found herself on a picturesque slope. The reddish soil underfoot spoke of the volcanic origin of these lands. A long-extinct crater rose in the distance, its slopes overgrown with emerald vegetation. The air here was remarkably clean, with a light tang of sea salt, sulphur and the aroma of wild grasses.

  The path wound between scatterings of black volcanic glass and low shrubs with fleshy leaves. The sun declined towards sunset, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Somewhere in the distance could be heard the measured lapping of water—the ocean conducting its endless confrontation with the land.

  Nemira hadn't gone far from the village when before her opened a view of neatly fenced fields. A low fence of hewn stones encircled terraces cut into the mountain slope. Each terrace was no more than twenty metres long, but they stretched in tiers down the slope, creating an impressive picture of human industry.

  On the nearest plots grew bushes with round, bright orange root vegetables, half protruding from the earth. Livien didn't recognise them, which was hardly surprising. She was seeing sun turnip for the first time in her life—a sweet and nutritious vegetable valued for its honeyed taste. Nearby grew beds of small but numerous star-salad leaves, so named for their characteristic leaf shape.

  On the distant terraces waved stalks of moon barley—a grain with a silvery sheen, from which special bread was made. And along the fence itself grew bushes of sugar berry, studded with small red fruits the size of peas.

  "Small wonder rabbits ply their trade here," thought Nemira, assessing this abundance. Any herbivorous animal would consider these fields true paradise. Sweet turnip, tender salad leaves, juicy berries—all of it represented gastronomic pleasure worth risking one's life for.

  The girl looked around, seeking her first victims.

  The fields lay in pre-sunset stillness. Long shadows from the stone boundaries stretched across the terraces, creating a striped pattern of light and darkness. The troll woman crouched at the edge of the nearest bed, peering into the thickets between root vegetables.

  Nothing.

  She moved along the fence, trying not to make noise. Bare feet trod softly on the reddish earth. The knife lay comfortably in her hand, ready for the throw. Livien repeated in her mind instructions from training videos—accuracy matters more than force, aim for the neck or chest, don't dawdle after the throw.

  Minutes dragged. The fields seemed deserted. Only a light breeze rustled the star-salad leaves.

  "Perhaps they come at night?" The thought flickered. The quest description didn't specify time of day.

  Nemira circled the first terrace's perimeter, descended to the second. Here grew bushes with berries, their branches bending under the weight of the harvest. Perfect bait. She froze, listening.

  A rustle.

  Barely audible, to the left, behind a thick bush of moon barley.

  Her heart quickened. Nemira spun round, raising her knife. The stalks swayed, parted—and from them leapt...

  A rabbit.

  But nothing like what she'd expected to see.

  The creature was the size of a large dog, its muscular body covered in coarse grey fur. The hind legs resembled springs—thick, powerful, built for jumping. Ears stuck upward, long and mobile, catching every sound. But what struck Livien most were the eyes—bright red, burning with hungry fire, and the teeth. Incisors protruded from the mouth, sharp as razors, stained yellow.

  The beast froze, staring at the girl.

  Nemira also froze. The distance between them was about five metres. Too far for a precise strike in a throw.

  The rabbit twitched an ear. The muscles on its hind legs tensed.

  "It's going to jump."

  Instinct took over. Nemira lunged forward, knife going for the strike—but the creature proved faster. It leapt sideways, its body blurring in the jump. The blade whistled past, embedding itself in the earth.

  The rabbit landed on the neighbouring bed, spun round and made a sound—something between a squeak and a growl. Low, threatening. The red eyes narrowed.

  "Are you serious?"

  Burst from Nemira. The absurdity of the situation washed over her in a wave—she, a nearly three-metre-tall brute of a troll, had been challenged by a rabbit.

  The beast didn't answer. It jumped again, this time straight at her.

  Nemira recoiled, instinctively raising her arms. The massive body flew past, but a hind paw caught her shoulder, leaving ragged scratches on her skin. Pain flared like fire.

  [You have taken damage: -7 health points]

  The notification flickered at the edge of her vision.

  The rabbit landed behind her back, already turning for the next attack. Nemira grabbed the knife, still protruding from the earth, yanked it out and spun to face her opponent.

  Red eyes looked at her with undisguised fury. The creature crouched, preparing for a new leap.

  Nemira didn't wait. She lunged forward, using her advantage in height and weight. The rabbit jumped, but the girl ducked, letting it pass over her head. The beast's powerful hind paw scraped across her back, but the damage proved minimal.

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  Spinning round, she threw the knife.

  The blade stuck in the ground a centimetre from the rabbit's ear. The creature sprang away, but Nemira was already running towards it. Her hand descended, yanked out the stuck knife, and immediately went into a sweeping strike.

  The blade slid along the fur, leaving a shallow cut along the flank. A red stripe appeared on the grey pelt. The rabbit squealed but didn't retreat. Instead it spun with incredible speed and slammed its whole body into the troll woman's legs. The girl had no time to check how much damage she'd dealt.

  Nemira swayed but remained standing. Her free hand descended, grabbed the beast by the scruff and jerked upward.

  The rabbit spun in the air, hind legs pummelling her arm, tearing the blue skin with claws. The pain was sharp but bearable. Nemira spun the creature in the air, raised the knife and plunged it into its neck.

  Once. Twice. Thrice. A fourth time...

  "Don't dawdle!" She commanded.

  The rabbit jerked, red eyes dimmed. One more strike—and the body went limp. Blood gushed onto the girl's hands, warm and sticky.

  [You have killed:

  Wild Rabbit (0/50)

  Level 1

  Rank: F

  Gained: 25 experience points]

  The notification lit up before her eyes.

  Nemira dropped the dead body to the ground and exhaled. Her hands trembled from adrenaline. The scratches on her shoulder and forearm stung, health had fallen to 53, and vigour to 139 points respectively.

  "One."

  She spoke aloud, wiping the bloodied knife on the beast's fur. Her gaze slid across the fields. Somewhere out there lurked nine more such creatures.

  A rustle to the right made her turn. From behind a moon barley bush protruded another muzzle with red eyes. Then another. And a third.

  Three rabbits crawled onto the bed, surrounding her in a semicircle.

  The girl seemed to have completely overlooked—or perhaps simply didn't know about this feature—that neutrally disposed inhabitants of Seratis behaved according to certain rules. If their way of life implied pack or herd existence, killing even one member of the group changed everything. The remaining pack members immediately and automatically transformed from harmless creatures into aggressively disposed mobs, ready to attack the offender without the slightest hesitation.

  "Seriously?"

  Nemira gripped the knife more comfortably and assumed a battle stance. The first fight had proved harder than she'd thought. And now there were three of them.

  The rabbits moved in sync.

  The girl barely had time to raise her hand when the first rabbit soared into the air. Its red eyes burned with fury, hind legs aimed straight at her chest. She leant left, but the creature corrected its trajectory mid-flight, slamming into her shoulder with all its weight and latching on with its teeth.

  The impact knocked the breath from her. Claws tore skin, leaving ragged furrows.

  [You have taken damage: -8 health points]

  The second rabbit didn't jump. It tore forward along the ground, pressing low to the bed, and sank its teeth into her calf. Pain exploded in a white flash.

  [You have taken damage: -4 health points]

  Nemira snarled, lowered the knife and drove it into the back of the first rabbit, still clinging to her shoulder. The blade passed between ribs. The beast squealed, released its teeth and tumbled to the ground.

  The third jumped from behind.

  The girl felt weight on the back of her head, sharp pain from claws sinking into skin. Her head jerked forward from the impact.

  [You have taken damage: -11 health points]

  Panic stabbed somewhere in her chest. She grabbed the rabbit on her head, tore it off and hurled it to the ground with such force she heard bones crunch. The creature jerked but didn't fall still. She added several blows with her knee to its muzzle, ignoring the pain.

  [You have killed: Wild Rabbit (0/50)]

  The teeth in her calf clenched harder. Nemira spun round, dropped to her knees and bore down with all her weight on the second rabbit. Her free hand pressed the beast's muzzle to the earth, fingers found the neck. The knife went in for the strike—once, twice, thrice.

  Blood sprayed in a fountain, drenching hands and chest.

  [You have killed: Wild Rabbit (0/50)]

  The first rabbit, with the knife in its back, tried to crawl away. Nemira rose, stepped towards it and brought her heel down on its head. Crunch. Another blow, another. Until the crunching stopped and the red eyes went dark.

  [You have killed: Wild Rabbit (0/50)]

  Silence descended on the field. Livien stood, breathing heavily, surrounded by four dead bodies. Health had dropped to a critical 15 points, though vigour held at 98. Every scratch pulsed with pain. Blood—her own and the rabbits'—ran down her arms and legs.

  "Need to recover."

  Her gaze fell on the carcasses. There was surely a cook in the village who could prepare something edible from them. But go there now, bleeding and barely staying on her feet? Demonstrate weakness—unacceptable to her.

  Nemira dropped to her knees beside the nearest rabbit. The knife trembled in her hand. She flipped the carcass onto its back and drew the blade along the belly. The hide parted with a disgusting squelching sound. Innards spilled out, warm and slippery.

  Her stomach rose to her throat.

  "Don't think. Just do."

  She stripped the hide, jerking it with clumsy movements. The fur tore in her hands, stuck to the meat. A piece of skin came away with a wet slap. Nemira tossed it aside and took up the second rabbit.

  The process went slowly and messily. By the time she'd finished with the fourth carcass, her hands were covered in a sticky mixture of blood, fat and offal. The smell of raw meat assaulted her nose.

  The girl lifted a piece of reddish flesh, torn from the first rabbit's thigh. The meat was warm, fibrous. She brought it to her mouth.

  "This isn't you, Livien, this is Nemira doing this, calm down!" The girl muttered to herself like a mantra.

  The taste proved better than she'd imagined. The metallic tang of blood mixed with something bland and tough, and she liked it. She forced herself to chew, to swallow at first. Her throat muscles resisted, but she continued, even with appetite.

  Thus did the neurolink and capsule work, for Livien had chosen a troll woman as her avatar, and they enjoyed eating raw meat, their digestive system facilitating this.

  [Restored: +5 health points, +3 vigour points]

  The numbers flickered at the edge of vision. Little. Catastrophically little. Nemira tore off another piece and stuffed it in her mouth.

  [Restored: +5 health points, +3 vigour points]

  Again. And again.

  By the time health had risen to 50 and vigour to 125, before her lay the gnawed bones of three carcasses. The fourth she stuffed into her inventory ring, along with the hides, which had combined—she'd only two slots occupied.

  Livien wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and rose to her feet. Her whole body ached. The scratches had stopped bleeding but stung with every movement.

  The sun touched the horizon, painting the sky in crimson tones.

  Nemira surveyed the bloodied remains and smiled grimly. Twenty-five experience points per rabbit. Simple quest completion would have brought her only seventy-five points. But here, in the fields, she could earn far more.

  "Fifty rabbits—one thousand two hundred and fifty experience. Enough for second level."

  The calculation was simple. Kill ten creatures for the quest, then continue hunting until she'd gathered the required experience. Night was only beginning, time enough.

  The girl moved on across the terraces, seeking new victims. Twilight thickened, transforming the fields into a labyrinth of shadows and indistinct silhouettes. The reddish soil was barely distinguishable from black stone in the waning light of day.

  A rustle amongst the moon barley bushes betrayed the next target. Nemira froze, peering into the swaying stalks. Red points of eyes flickered in the thickets.

  She lunged forward, not waiting for the beast's first movement. The knife flashed in the dusk, slicing air. The rabbit tried to dodge, but the troll woman anticipated the direction of its leap. The blade entered between ribs, piercing the heart and slowing the opponent.

  Fifth.

  Night enveloped the fields in a black shroud. The moon hung as a thin crescent, barely illuminating the terraces. Nemira moved through the beds, relying more on hearing than sight. The rabbits' red eyes glowed in the darkness like small embers, betraying the prey's location.

  The tenth rabbit tried to hide in the sugar berry thickets. Nemira caught it right by the fence, pressed it against the stones and finished it with a series of quick strikes.

  The fifteenth jumped on her back when she was butchering the fourteenth. Claws sank into her shoulders, teeth scraped across her nape. The girl rolled onto her back, crushing the beast with her own weight.

  By midnight the count reached twenty-five. Nemira had learnt to read the rabbits' behaviour, to anticipate their movements. Wounds closed thanks to the constant consumption of fresh meat. Health held at around seventy points.

  The thirtieth rabbit proved larger than the rest. Its red eyes burned with malice, and teeth protruded from its mouth like yellow daggers. It didn't jump but attacked head-on, using its mass as a battering ram. Nemira sprang aside, the knife described an arc, slitting the creature's throat.

  Blood fountained onto the earth.

  By three in the morning the number of kills reached forty. The fields had emptied. The rabbits seemed to have evaporated, hiding in burrows or scattering throughout the vicinity. Nemira circled terrace after terrace but found only bloody stains and gnawed bones she'd left earlier.

  "Ten left."

  She descended to the lower fields, closer to the ocean shore. Here the air was saltier, and the earth damper. Root vegetables grew larger, star-salad leaves shimmered silver in the moonlight.

  The forty-first rabbit leapt from behind a bush and immediately attacked. Nemira was no longer surprised by their aggression. The knife entered the neck at an angle, severing the artery.

  The forty-fifth hid amongst the roots of a spreading tree. The girl had to crawl on her belly to reach it. The skirmish was brief and brutal.

  The forty-ninth tried to flee towards the ocean. Nemira caught it on the sandy beach when waves were already lapping at its paws. The strike landed precisely between the shoulder blades.

  She returned to the fields, seeking the last rabbit. She was literally twenty-five experience points short of second level. Dawn approached—the sky in the east was already lightening.

  The fiftieth rabbit sat on the very highest terrace, as though waiting for her. Large, with especially bright red eyes. It didn't stir when Nemira climbed the slope. Didn't flinch when she raised the knife.

  The blade descended, piercing the skull between the ears.

  [You have killed: Wild Rabbit (0/50)]

  [Congratulations! You have reached level 2! You have 5 free attribute points available!]

  The notifications flared with golden light. Nemira wasted no time and distributed all points into Stamina. She'd decided to do so the moment only a couple of bites or one rabbit's leap separated her from death.

  The girl straightened, wiping the knife on the last victim's fur. The fields lay in pre-dawn stillness, strewn with bones and bloody stains. She smiled, pleased with the result.

  Somewhere in the darkness, beyond the fields, came a roar.

  A low, guttural sound rolled across the volcano's slopes, making the air tremble. Not a rabbit's squeak, not a small predator's growl. Something big. Something hungry.

  And it was approaching...