The dirt path crunched beneath his steps. No.441 walked alone, the paper slip folded in his sleeve and the bronze badge in his pocket.
The forest thinned here. Not as deep. Not as wild.
It didn't feel threatening.
[Auto-Cultivation: Active]
Current Gain Rate: +0.8%/hour
Fatigue Accumulation: Low
He let it run.
The system's quiet hum in the back of his mind had become a constant. So had the presence in his chest—the steady thrum of his Astral Heart. A quiet rhythm, always working.
He hadn't noticed it before.
But now?
Now it felt like a stark reminder of how far he's come.
He reached the den just past midday.
A mess of brush, half-sunken into the ground, with roots twisted over its mouth like gnarled fingers. The air reeked faintly of blood and damp fur.
[Target Location: Confirmed]
Forest Rat Nest – F-tier
Estimated Threat: Low
No.441 didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and summoned Oathlink.
The chains slid from beneath his sleeves, wrapping loosely around his arms. A few feet hung off, swaying lightly.
He rolled his shoulders once.
And stepped into the dark.
The rats came quick—four of them.
Gnashing teeth, dirty gray fur, red eyes.
No.441 didn't draw back.
The first one lunged. He sidestepped, Oathlink coiling and snapping. It struck the rat mid-air and slammed it against the wall.
The second scurried low.
He flicked his wrist—chain curved down and snared its back legs, then dragged it into the third.
They tumbled. He didn't give them time.
With one sharp motion, he yanked the chain back and whipped it out again, wrapping around both their necks in one clean move.
A twist. A pull.
Done.
The fourth paused.
Big mistake.
He hurled the chain forward. The tip slammed into its chest. The body slid back across the dirt.
Silence.
[Combat Complete – Threat: Minimal]
Energy Usage: 3%
Fatigue: None
No.441 exhaled and let the chains fall loose.
That had been easy. Clean. No panic. No mistakes.
"So this is what progress feels like."
He moved further in, eyes adjusting to the dim light.
There were cracked bones littered around the inner tunnel. Stained tufts of fur. A few broken crates. Nothing unusual.
He let himself ease up.
Just a little.
Then he smelled it.
The stench crawled in slowly—thicker, fouler. A mix of rot and bile.
His eyes narrowed.
And then the den shook.
The stench deepened.
No.441 stepped back once, his hand tightening around Oathlink. The chain remained loose on his arms, still slick with blood and dirt from the last skirmish.
The tunnel at the far end cracked.
Then split open.
A thick, low rumble echoed from beneath the roots. Dirt crumbled. Something pushed its way up, its massive shape dragging itself forward.
It stepped into view.
And No.441 froze.
The thing was at least six feet tall, hunched with wet, matted fur clinging to bulging muscle. Patches of its skin were scarred black, leaking fumes that hissed against the stone.
Its face looked like a rat—but twisted. Its eyes weren't red. They were yellow, glowing with something deeper.
Rot. Hunger.
Malice.
[Warning: Rare Variant Detected – "Plagueborn Rat King"]
Tier: High E
Aura: Toxic | Corrupted
Known Abilities:
— Toxic Breath
— Screech (Stun + Summon)
— Rapid Infection Claws
— Leadership Skill: Command Lesser Rodents
Threat Level: Severe
No.441 dropped low.
His body moved without thinking. He didn't look away from the beast.
It stepped forward and stood on its hind legs, towering now.
Its ribs swelled.
The breath hit a second later.
Thick, greenish gas poured from its open jaws, crawling out across the ground like a living mist. The moment it touched the old bones nearby, they hissed and cracked.
[Poison Field active. Air quality degrading.]
He backed up fast. Clenched his teeth. Covered his mouth.
"System," he whispered, "how long until—?"
[Estimated safe exposure: 90 seconds]
The Rat King slammed its forearms down. The earth cracked beneath its weight.
Then it let out a sharp screech.
Pain stabbed through No.441's head. He staggered, gripping the side of his face. His vision wobbled. Ears rang.
From the corners of the room, the walls began to move.
No—swarm.
Small rats poured out of every crack, drawn by the sound. Dozens.
Maybe more.
He lowered himself.
Heart pounding.
Breath thin.
His chains hissed along the stone as he pulled them tighter.
"So much for easy."
The swarm surged.
Dozens of smaller rats, twitching, clawing, their red eyes glowing in the gas-filled dark. They rushed forward like water breaking through a dam—climbing over each other, screeching loud and sharp.
No.441 moved.
His chain cracked through the air.
The first swipe took out three. A second sweep spun low and smashed another wave flat against the wall.
He didn't stop moving. Couldn't.
A rat leapt at his back. The chain snapped up like a whip—caught it mid-air and flung it into the poison haze.
His breath came sharp. Shallow.
[Exposure Time: 42 seconds]
[Astral Heart: 83% stable]
[Oathlink Condition: Normal]
The numbers didn't mean much now. Only survival mattered.
He forced his way forward, pushing through the swarm, chains swinging in wide arcs. One looped, caught five, and crushed them with a twist.
Another strike coiled around two more—dragged them across the stone and slammed them against the cave wall.
Still they came.
The Rat King hadn't moved. It stood at the back of the cavern, silent, watching.
Waiting.
Planning.
"It's controlling them…"
No.441 narrowed his eyes.
"Then I end it."
He burst forward.
The chain spiraled in front of him—clearing rats, parting them like water. The gas curled around his legs, biting at his skin. His arms stung. His lungs burned.
But he moved anyway.
[Exposure Time: 61 seconds]
The Rat King opened its jaws again.
Toxic Breath Incoming.
No.441 didn't stop. He jumped to the side, rolled, came back up on one knee.
The poison hissed past him.
A moment later, he was back on his feet—chain extended.
He launched it forward.
It caught the Rat King's wrist.
It didn't flinch.
The beast looked down at the chain.
And smiled.
It ripped its arm back, dragging No.441 forward like a rag doll. He flew through the air, slammed into the ground, and rolled twice.
He coughed. Hard.
Blood.
[Warning: Light internal damage detected.]
He got up anyway.
The Rat King charged this time, fast despite its size.
No.441 braced.
He raised his arms, chains swirling up in front of him, moving not like a weapon, but like part of his body—alive, reactive.
"Come on."
The two forces collided—
And the cavern exploded with sound and motion.