A furious roar echoed from below, as System chimes cascaded through her head in a dissonant chorus.
"Whatever that was, It was pi**ed." Talia thought.
She dragged herself over the rim of the hole and rolled onto solid ground, chest heaving. Her thigh throbbed hot and wet. Her right shoulder hung limp at her side, the joint aching with a deep, nauseating pulse.
She staggered back until her spine hit a tree and half-fell to the ground. Trembling hands tore open her E-Rank emergency kit.
She ripped her pants open at the thigh and sucked a sharp breath between her teeth.
Three deep rakes slashed across the muscle—long, raw, edges swollen and bloody. The cuts gaped wide. Not deep enough for muscle.
"Close. Too close."
Her hand shook as she pulled an antiseptic packet from the kit, tore it open with her teeth, and pressed it to the first slash. Pain detonated. Her vision whited out at the edges, breath coming in short, savage bursts.
The second cut burned worse.
The third made black spots swarm at the corners of her sight.
She blinked through them stubbornly.
After the wounds were clean, she pulled the edges together with steri-strips, reinforced them with closure tape, and wrapped the thigh in tight, controlled layers of bandage. As she secured it, faint lines surfaced across the bandage and a soft warmth spread through the tissue beneath, slow and pulsing.
Stabilising. Not magic, but close.
Surprised, she wanted to peek under the bandage, her shoulder sent a sharp reminder that it too was injured.
Talia tested the smallest lift—just a few centimeters—
White-hot pain lanced from collarbone to wrist.
She flinched violently.
"Okay—nope—don't do that," she hissed.
"Not a full dislocation, a rotator cuff strain." Talia guessed.
Enough to fight. Not enough to fight well.
She rubbed the E-Rank salve into the joint, silently hoping for a miracle. The joint throbbed—hot and deep—but the medicine was already working: reducing swelling, calming the spasm. The tearing agony eased into a heavy, angry pull.
"It's amazing," she murmured. "Not a miracle cure, but enough to keep people alive until a real doctor shows up."
She counted the remaining doses—four left. She grimaced. She'd need those for when someone was actually dying.
Her thigh pulsed warmly under the wrap—not healed, but no longer a gaping threat. Her shoulder burned in a steady line down her arm, a clear warning not to fight like an idiot.
Not healed. But stabilised. Enough to keep going.
Suddenly a claw shot up from the buried shaft.
Then a battered mole head emerged—huge. Triple the size of the others, dirt caked into every crease of its bone armor.
Talia grabbed a normal painkiller from her space and swallowed it dry.
The E-Rank ones were for when she was dying—not aching.
She rose to her feet, her spear materializing into her right hand. The shoulder twinged sharply—a reminder it's still on light duties.
The Mole Leader hauled itself free of the collapsing earth and roared at her, blasting a wave of dust and grit across the clearing.
"Mid or late-tier boss?" she muttered. "At least you're not a puppet, you can definitely think."
Now that she saw it clearly, the reason it survived became obvious: A natural bone vest plated its chest, shoulders, and skull.
"That is so unfair, God. Are you helping Animals too?"
It was injured, though. Badly. One leg dragged at a wrong angle.
"Heh. We're even," she said. "Decision time, Talia: fight or flee?"
The Mole's glare answered for her.
"Fight," she decided. "Because you'll follow me to town otherwise."
Danger.
The warning slammed through her like a cold spike.
She dove forward an instant before a hooked claw sliced through the air where her head had been an instant earlier
.
She pivoted right—her thigh flared—then snapped left, ducking beneath another swipe.
Her shoulder gave a sharp twinge during the dodge, but held steady.
"F**k, you're quick." she hissed, shocked at its speed. Her mind slipped into a strange, icy clarity.
She could see the next strike a split-second before it came—
not quite foresight, but something like it.
Battle-sight. Predator instinct.
Even so, she still couldn't land a clean hit. The Mole Leader was too strong. Too fast. Her spear bounced off bone again and again.
She needed a shift.
A crack.
Anything.
'Are the strikes slower?'
Yes.
Yes, they were.
Whether from exhaustion, injury, or blood loss, the Mole Leader's attack speed had dipped—just enough.
Talia seized that opening.
She countered before dodging this time—jabbing fast—and finally got a full look at its shrunken but intelligent eyes.
Her spear glanced off the chest plating, the shock rattling up her arms and sending a hot sting into her shoulder.
She exhaled, forcing her thoughts into order.
Think. Analyze. Solve.
A strategy snapped into place.
She backstepped toward the ruined hut, fending off two more swipes. The thigh wound burned in protest, but the wrap held. No warmth sliding down her leg. No tearing.
She backstepped toward the ruined hut. The Mole limped after her, rage twisting its muzzle. Her thigh screamed, but the wrap held. No tearing. No warmth sliding down her leg.
Good enough.
She didn't aim for the doorway.
She aimed for the weakest wall, sagging from the earlier shaft collapse.
The Mole didn't know the difference.
She ducked under a swipe and slammed her good shoulder into the rotten support beam. It cracked. The roof above trembled dangerously.
Good.
The Mole Leader charged.
"Come on," she hissed. "Hit me—hit me—"
She dove aside at the last heartbeat.
The Mole slammed full-force into the wall. The whole structure groaned like a dying beast.
For a split second, the Mole Leader froze, sensing the shift.
Too late.
The weakened beam snapped.
The entire front of the hut collapsed inward, roof timbers caving like wet cardboard.
Rubble crashed onto the Mole Leader's armored back. The bone plating held—but its legs buckled, pinning it under the sudden weight.
Perfect.
Talia shifted her spear to her left hand—the good one—and stabbed downward into the soft gap where neck plating met breastbone.
The first strike skittered.
The second dug deep.
The third—
crack.
The spear punched through cartilage, then brain.
The Mole Leader spasmed violently, claws tearing trenches in the dirt as the collapsing hut buried its rear half.
Talia staggered back as dust filled the air, lungs burning. The Mole slid sideways, crushed further until only its skull and shoulders remained exposed.
Heavy. Final.
A System chime confirmed its death.
She exhaled, trembling with adrenaline.
Then a rumble rolled beneath her feet—the weakened tunnel network shifting.
"Shit—"
She dragged herself away as another section of ground caved in swallowing what remained of the hut into a fresh sinkhole.
Breathing like she'd run a marathon, Talia slumped against a tree. Sweat dripped from her jawline. Her hands shook with delayed shock.
Then laughter broke out of her—high, breathless, half-hysterical.
The near-miss, the collapsing tunnels, the mole Leader, her injuries—
She needed the release.
Her stomach gurgled loudly.
"Of course," she sighed. "Tension dumps, and the body remembers lunch."
She fished out a sandwich from her space, unwrapped it with clumsy fingers, and took a shaky bite.
It tasted ten times better than it should have.
A long pull of water washed down the bitter aftertaste of herbs and adrenaline.
Only after lunch did she check her HUD status.
Kill Count: #79
She stared.
"Seventy-nine?" she croaked. "Seriously? Not eighty? You couldn't give me one more mole?"
A weak laugh escaped her, It bubbled out and wouldn't quite stop.
Six blindbox rewards blinked at the edge of her vision.
"Fine, fine," she breathed. "Let's see what the system fairy brought."
She opened #50 first.
Text unfolded in crisp, unfamiliar lines:
[Reward #50 Pending → LORD TICKET — Territory Core Unlock]
She blinked once. Twice.
"What… the hell… is that? A territory? A core? Lord Ticket?!"
The words rattled around her skull, refusing to form any configuration that made sense.
Before she could untangle it, a new notification slid to the bottom of her interface, pulsing softly.
She tapped it.
[Milestone Reached: 50 Kills]
[EARTHFALL WARNING ISSUED]
[Earth Collapse Imminent in 16:00 hours]
[Gaia request accepted.
The System converts corrupted beast dead into purifying energy.
Every Beast Shard fuels the evacuation of survivors into a new world.
Fight, survive, and gather energy.
Your efforts will save yourself and your chosen bound family.]
The air around her seemed to thicken, heavy as wet wool.
"What…?" she whispered.
Earthfall.
Like the whole planet had just been given a timer.
Not Years. Not Days. Hours 16 to be exact.
Talia read and reread.
"So the meaning is we have to hunt beasts to pay for our relocation. And if we're good enough we go with our 'chosen' families. I like that, 'chosen' meaning you can reject or accept others as family."
A suspicion began to stir in her mind. 'Bound family? Energy! Evacuation?"
Talia stared as a countdown appeared above her Kill Counter.
[16:00]
Slowly ticking down.
For the first time, she didn't just know the world was collapsing.
She felt it.
The countdown had already begun.