Several hours had passed. During that time, Ace continued wandering among the crops. Dewdrops gathered on the leaves, glistening like scattered shards of diamond atop a green carpet. Delicate spiderwebs shimmered between the branches, reflecting the light of the twin moons with an enchanting glow. Nothing appeared different from how it had been at dusk, so he made his way toward the barns, where silence reigned—broken only by the irregular breathing of the animals, betraying their anxiety and fear.
He inspected the area, scanning every dark corner and listening for the faintest sound. Everything seemed in order. Yet, the silence carried an unsettling weight, as if the entire farm were holding its breath, anticipating something to happen. He paused for a moment, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small device. Its cracked screen briefly lit up his face, revealing features hardened by intense focus.
"Approximately five minutes until midnight," he said quietly, before returning the device to his pocket.
He stepped toward the farm's back gate, where the air was colder, its taste dry and biting against the skin. Still, it was far from the cruelty of the winds he had endured on previous nights. He lifted his head to the sky, where stars danced in a sea of darkness, then carefully scanned the expanse ahead of him.
The distant tall grass swayed with the breeze. He exhaled slowly, watching his breath rise in white wisps that quickly vanished into the frigid air. The five minutes passed, and gradually, something shifted. It felt as if an unseen presence had slipped into the atmosphere. Suddenly, everything became still—too still—and then came the sounds.
At first, they were faint—whispers brushing the edges of hearing. But they grew louder with each passing moment. The rising sound was accompanied by a pungent, heavy odor that crept into his nose without warning. It wasn't the scent of damp earth or moist vegetation, but something entirely different—something closer to the smell of blood.
He reached for his pocket and pulled out a small flashlight, his trusted companion. Pressing the button, he cast a beam of light that pierced through the darkness, parting the tangled grass like a curtain. He stepped forward slowly, eyes fixed on the shadowed patches where the sounds grew more intense. The sensation was undeniable: he was not alone.
He knew the beam of the flashlight would give away his position, but he also understood he would not be an easy prey for whatever lurked in the shadows. Gradually, he narrowed the flashlight's focus into a sharp spear of light, then aimed it at the deepest point among the grass. He moved the beam cautiously, tracking every tremor with his eyes. He didn't wait long before he saw them—glowing red dots, like tiny embers, moving slowly between the blades of grass. They appeared and vanished, pulsing as if alive.
The eyes moved in pairs, silently tracking his steps, measuring the distance between them and him, waiting for the right moment to strike. The sight was not new to him. He had seen those burning eyes before, following him from between the trees, watching patiently from afar. But this time, he knew those eyes did not belong to mere woodland creatures—they belonged to a threat that had to be eliminated.
Quietly, he gripped the hilt of his military dagger, his fingers tightening around the cold handle. As the blade slid free, it caught the light like a warrior preparing for battle. His eyes never left the grass, now shaking more violently, as if unveiling what lay hidden. And then, the creatures finally emerged.
At first glance, they looked like nothing more than small white rabbits—soft, innocent, as if sprung from a child's dream. But there was something off in their features. Without warning, their appearance shifted. Their soft fur bristled, transforming into something akin to spines—a natural armor. Hidden fangs emerged from their small jaws, gleaming under the moonlight, long and sharp like honed daggers. These were not gentle beings; they were instruments of death, altered by nature into merciless predators.
They gave him no time to think. In a single coordinated burst, they lunged at him, moving in erratic patterns, leaping from side to side in an attempt to confuse him before closing in. But Ace's eyes tracked them with precision. Despite the darkness and their rapid movements, he was able to count them in an instant—six small rabbits. Yet they didn't need to be larger to be deadly.
As the first one neared him, it sprang like a spear from a killer's bow—its bared fangs glinting, tiny arms extended with claws as sharp as knives. But Ace was not to be taken easily.
In a flash, he swung his dagger, slicing through the air—a swift, precise strike that cleaved the darkness. There was no hesitation. The blow was clean, severing the rabbit's head from its body in an instant, like a sharp sword cutting through a falling leaf.
The head hit the ground first, rolling away, as the body collapsed in another direction, twitching briefly before going still. Dark blood spurted like a small fountain, soaking the grass. The remaining rabbits froze at the sight, their glowing eyes locked on their fallen companion's corpse, as if trying to comprehend what had just happened. But the moment didn't last.
Their heads lifted, exchanging quick glances, then they charged again—this time, not in chaos but with coordinated intent, like a team executing a planned maneuver. Some attempted to distract, while others circled around the young man, realizing their prey was not as vulnerable as they had thought. In a flash, they all leapt, attacking from every direction like a storm of fur and claws.
Ace's body moved like that of a seasoned assassin, flowing through the darkness. His dagger gleamed, slicing through the shadows. Every motion was deliberate. Every strike, lethal.
The sound of tearing flesh and metal hitting bone mingled with the shrieks of the dying rabbits, which dropped one after another. Their bodies hit the ground, their blood spraying like red mist. The area around him quickly turned into a miniature battlefield, littered with torn corpses—some still trembling in their final spasms before falling silent forever.
Ace exhaled deeply, releasing the exhaustion from his swift movements. But his moment of rest didn't last. Soon, new sounds reached his ears, and within moments, more heads rose—another group of rabbits emerged, unlike the first.
They didn't move erratically or attack recklessly. They stood in organized rows like a small battalion—more than twenty in number—awaiting a signal, a command to strike. Their eyes weren't just glowing dots; they radiated intelligence, as though they had studied the young man's fighting style through the scout unit he had just faced.
They advanced in harmony, moving as a compact force. Then, they stopped. From within the gathering of snow-white fur emerged something completely different—something that shattered the eerie symmetry. A rabbit unlike any other.
It was small compared to its peers, but its presence was overwhelming, its mere existence enough to instill fear. Its fur was black—not ordinary black, but a darkness that seemed to absorb all light, as though the night itself had taken shape in the form of a creature. Its eyes were not red, but glowing blue—cold, spectral, like harbingers of unavoidable death. Yet they didn't hold the same wild aggression as the others. Rather, they reflected cunning intelligence and a sinister awareness of its power.
At first glance, one might mistake it for a harmless little rabbit. But Ace, with his innate instinct, understood the truth instantly. This creature was not just another member of the pack. It was the true leader—the deadliest predator among them.
His grip on the dagger tightened. Every nerve in his body warned him: the next confrontation would not be easy.
For a moment, the air felt heavier, in sync with the black rabbit's first movement. Its steps were light, cautious. Its fangs weren't visible at first, but when the twin moons' light hit them, they gleamed—long and black. Its claws matched, sharp as blades meant to tear flesh effortlessly. It looked like a finely crafted engine of death.
The rabbits ahead of it parted, their little heads bowing in an unmistakable sign of deference. When it was just a few meters away from Ace, the demonic rabbit stopped. Its piercing eyes studied its opponent. Then, in an instant, it vanished. No sound. No motion. Just gone—like the darkness had swallowed it, as if its presence had been a hallucination.
Ace's eyes darted around, searching desperately for any trace of the small creature, trying to anticipate an attack. Then suddenly, he felt a strange sensation—a warmth spreading across his chest. Looking down, he saw his clothes torn, as if sliced by an invisible blade. Blood trickled slowly. The wound wasn't fatal, but it was enough to alert him to the danger he now faced. He looked up, narrowing his eyes, to find the black rabbit had returned to its spot, standing still as if nothing had happened.
That move had been merely a test—a sample of its speed and precision. Ace felt a chill creep up his spine, realizing how fast the creature could move. He raised his dagger, a clear challenge. The rabbit didn't hesitate. Once again, it vanished.
But this time, Ace was ready.