Chapter 39: The battle begins

When the ratman on the throne locked his gaze onto Smith, time seemed to freeze. Smith could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. A single gesture from that throne would dictate whether this encounter was an manageable battle or a desperate battle for their lives.

​Yet, Smith refused to avert his eyes.

​Meeting the creature’s stare, Smith caught the glint in those bead-like, pitch-black eyes. There was no rage or caution—only a cruel, mocking amusement. To the ratman, the intruders were nothing more than an unexpected distraction.

​Squeaking in disdain,he didn’t even bother to rise. He casually raised a clawed hand, pointing toward Smith’s group, then gestured to the outermost formation of ratmen.

​At the command, a single group of twenty Novice Ratmen, four Beginner-Intermediates, and one Mid-Intermediate rank ratmen turned as one. Weapons bared, they surged forward,towards Smith’s group in a front charge.

​Smith let out a long, quiet breath of relief. The worst-case scenario didn’t happen. The whole army wasn’t rushing them at once.

​"Velvet, get ready," Smith murmured, his hands gripping his wheelchair tightly.

​A fleeting thought crossed his mind as he watched the oncoming horde. If physical objects from the outside world can be brought into dungeons—like Apollo’s tents—why doesn’t anyone just haul in a machine gun? A heavy Gatling gun firing thousands of rounds per minute would wipe this entire room in seconds.

​ but he knew the answer, of course. Conventional real-world firearms worked fine on the outside world, but dungeons operated under strict unknown laws. Dungeon creatures possessed an intrinsic defense system, rendering them completely immune to non-system, modern weaponry. Only attacks from Queens and summoned chess pieces, or dungeon-native equipment could deal real damage. A bullet would flatten harmlessly against a Novice Ratman’s skin, making modern firearms far less effective than even the weakest Pawn. They had no choice but to fight the old-fashioned way.

​Cornered with their backs to the sealed entrance, the party prepared to receive the charge.

​"Standard defense line!" Velvet ordered crisply. "Hold your ground!"

​The Shieldbearers locked their tower shields into a solid wall, with Lyra positioning herself directly behind them to offer support. This time, Velvet didn’t take up her usual flanking position far out on the wing; instead, she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Brenda at the center of the line. ℯℯ𝑙.

​The Ratman group closed the distance, a forest of iron-tipped spears leveled at the front line.

​Just before the spears crashed into the shield wall, Brenda activated her Title. Choosing the Attack and Defense Boost configuration, she stepped forward. Instead of hiding behind her pawns shield formation, she disengaged from the line, swung her massive greatsword in a heavy arc, and parried the leading spears aside.

​The heavy steel plate on her chest absorbed the residual strikes. Unfazed, Brenda leveraged her momentum into a terrifying horizontal cleave. The massive blade swept through the front rank, instantly bisecting three charging Ratmen. Their momentum broke, turning the smooth charge into a chaotic pileup.

​Surrounded on all sides, Brenda didn’t panic. She planted her foot, turned on her heel, and unleashed a 360-degree whirlwind strike. Her greatsword swept through the air, cleaving every ratman within reach. With a clear space cleared around her, she deactivated her Title and retreated back into the formation to conserve her energy, leaving a massive void in the middle of the enemy ranks.

​"Now!" Velvet barked.

​Activating her own Title, Velvet surged directly into the opening Brenda had created. Two Novice Ratmen stepped into her path; with a lightning-fast crossed-slash of her dual katanas, she decapitated them both.

​Without pausing, she thrust herself at the Beginner-Intermediate rank Ratman in the center. The creature tried to bring its spear shaft up to block, but Velvet shifted her horizontal arc mid-swing. The edge of her left blade severed the beast’s hands at the wrists, and with a fluid spin of her body, her right blade sliced clean through its exposed throat.

​The ratman collapsed in a heap of blood before it could even scream.

​Spotting two more Intermediate Ratmen stepping forward, Velvet summoned her two upgraded Pawns directly into the heart of the enemy formation. Both Pawns activated their Titles, intercepting the nearby Novice rank ratmen to carve out a space for Velvet.

​Velvet locked eyes with the next Intermediate rank Ratman. Gripping her left katana in a reverse grip, she feinted high. The Ratman raised its spear to guard its upper body, but Velvet altered her trajectory in mid-air, slicing through its knee joint. As the creature buckled, she spun past its flank, her right katana plunging deep into its abdomen and killing it instantly.

​"Fallback to the line!" Velvet ordered her Pawns.

​In under thirty seconds, two of the enemy’s Intermediate-rank ratmen were dead. Yet to Smith’s surprise, the loss of them didn’t break the Ratmen’s morale. Driven by the terrifying presence of the ratman on the throne, the surviving troops pressed forward frantically to plug the gap.

​Velvet didn’t mind. Working in tandem with Brenda’s defensive holds and executing swift, targeted flanking runs, she systematically picked off the remaining Ratmen. Within minutes, the entire first wave was wiped out.

​Smith glanced up at the elevated platform. The Ratman’s face remained unchanged, watching them with that same dark, amused expression. To a to him losing twenty-five men was a trivial sacrifice.

​He raised a claw again, pointing toward Smith’s group—this time signaling two entire formations at once to charge.

​Over fifty Ratmen stepped forward in unison, their boots thumping against the floor.

​At least he’s still sending them in waves, Smith thought, taking a steadying breath. It gives us room to breathe.

​Velvet evaluated the oncoming force. Though there were fifty enemies, the two groups lacked unified command, moving as two separate clusters rather than a single coordinated unit.

​"Brenda, buy me time!" Velvet called out. "Hold the right group near the shield line. I’m going all-in on the left!"

​Without waiting for a reply, Velvet and her two Pawns sprinted out to meet the left group. Refusing a head-on collision against a wall of long spears, Velvet ordered her to split up. Her two Pawns veered off to the enemy’s left flank while Velvet circled around to their right, catching the formation in a tight pincer.

​In a dense spear formation, pivoting to defend against a sudden flank attack is notoriously difficult. Velvet exploited this weakness mercilessly. Slipping past their spear tips, she closed the distance where their long weapons were useless. Her katanas blurred in the light, spraying crimson across the floor.

​In less than ten seconds, she cut down a half the number of Novice rank ratmen and thrust her blade clean through the chest of the remaining Intermediate rank Ratman. By the time the remaining Ratmen broke their formation to turn and face her, their chain of command was gone. Velvet and her Pawns finished off the scattered remnants in short order.

​Turning her attention back to the shield line, Velvet saw Brenda holding the line admirably. Rather than charging out into the open, Brenda stood firm in front of the choke point, stepping forward only to deliver crushing overhead strikes whenever they pressed too close to the shield formation.

​"Closing the trap!" Velvet shouted, charging the rear of the second group.

​Caught between Brenda’s unbreakable defense in front and Velvet’s lethal assault from behind, the second group crumbled completely.

​When the last Ratman fell, Velvet and Brenda disengaged, retreating quickly behind the Shieldbearers to catch their breath. Though the combat had been brief, activating their Titles repeatedly drained immense amounts of physical stamina and mental energy.

​As they stood panting, the air in the chamber suddenly grew heavy.

​Smith’s eyes darted back to the raised platform. The amusement in the Rat-King’s eyes was gone, replaced by a cold, murderous glare.

​Slowly, the massive, half-plate-clad ratman stood up from his throne, gripping his silver spear.