Chapter 170 Rat Swarm

"Ah!"

The sudden attack badly startled Ironhead, who was leading the way at the front of the group.

Faced with the massive gray-skinned rat that lunged out of the darkness, the fierce-looking bald brute gave a violent start.

He cried out and stumbled backward, his heel catching on some loose rubble. If the wall behind him hadn't held him up, he would have fallen flat.

With a flex of his arm, Xia Nan pitched the gray-skinned rat to the ground. It had been skewered right through the chest on his blade like a kebab.

He casually flicked the remaining blood off his blade, his gaze sweeping over the twitching rat as its strength faded and its life rapidly drained away.

Xia Nan looked over at Ironhead with an odd expression.

He still remembered how arrogant the man had been when they first met, throwing his weight around in front of Jeff and that passerby in the tailor shop.

Who would have thought he would be this pathetic against a slightly larger-than-average rat.

Assuming there was some crucial detail he was missing, Xia Nan asked, "What is it? Is there something special about this rat?"

"No, no, there isn't," Ironhead quickly denied. Realizing how embarrassingly he had just acted, his face still held a pale, lingering shock.

"It's just... it was too sudden. I didn't react in time. Normally, my gang brothers and I catch these gray-skinned rats to eat."

"They actually taste pretty good," he added, deliberately changing the subject. "I heard there are a few taverns over in Rivervale Town that specifically hire people to transport them from Nym. They sell for a lot of money."

"So, a rat actively attacking a human like this—is that normal?" Xia Nan pressed, looking at the completely dead gray-skinned rat lying in a pool of blood.

He didn't care about the trivia Ironhead had mentioned. Long before he transmigrated to this world, his original body had been treated to a dish of gray-skinned rat by the hunter Maji. He had completely forgotten the taste, which meant it couldn't have been anything special.

Right now, he was much more concerned with whether this unprovoked attack was an omen. Did they need to raise their guard against an impending threat?

"It should be... normal?" Ironhead answered ambiguously, a hesitant look crossing his face.

"Generally speaking, the gray-skinned rats in the Nym Sewers are much larger than their usual kin. They frequently come up to the surface and snatch stray dogs, stray cats, and things like that."

"Sometimes, if they show up in a swarm, they can even cause property damage to the noble lords."

"They don't really count as 'monsters,' but if they're starving, it's not impossible for them to attack creatures much larger than themselves down here in the sewers."

"Not to mention..." Ironhead trailed off. An expression of sudden realization dawned on his face, as if he had just remembered something.

"The Feast of the Moon!"

He explained that the Feast of the Moon was fast approaching. Around this time every year, the number of bizarre things lurking in the sewers always surged. Even these massive, furry rats seemed capable of sensing the ever-brightening moonlight outside, making them hyperactive and highly aggressive.

As he explained this to Xia Nan, the unfocused, dazed look in Ironhead's eyes—brought on by the sudden attack—faded, returning to normal. Yet, deep in his pupils, a flicker of doubt and anxiety emerged.

The approaching Feast of the Moon, the sudden rat attack, the missing sentries from their posts...

He couldn't help but draw a few very bad conclusions in his head.

Meanwhile, Wood—who had maintained absolute vigilance and high concentration even before the gray-skinned rat appeared—completed a rapid inspection of their surroundings.

"There are a lot of rat tracks heading deeper into the corridor. I also found torn clothing and fresh blood. Someone has likely already been killed," Wood said.

He held his gleaming, razor-sharp Short Dagger in a reverse grip, tightly clutched in his palm.

His calm eyes flicked over the iron-gray Decapitating Longsword in Xia Nan's hand.

Though his expression didn't show it, Wood was still quite shocked inside.

In just over a hundred days, Xia Nan had gone from a complete novice Adventurer who knew only a single combat technique into a Class Holder on the same level as himself. That alone was astonishing enough.

But what he hadn't expected was that, when faced with sudden danger, Xia Nan's reaction speed was just as fast as his own—and Wood had held his Class Level for years.

Xia Nan even seemed to possess some special ability Wood couldn't identify, which had forced the rather fast rat to briefly lose control of its own body.

'Is his class not in the [Warrior] category?' Wood wondered to himself, recalling all the combat techniques he knew of under the [Warrior] branch.

Of course, despite his curiosity, he wouldn't dare ask Xia Nan about it. For an Adventurer, such questions were highly taboo. He simply marveled internally at the young man's godly pace of improvement.

They were about to reach their destination, but the situation had taken a turn for the worse.

Xia Nan stood in place, his longsword in hand, staring into the depths of the corridor swallowed by darkness.

He weighed the pros and cons in his mind.

He turned his head, wanting to discuss their next move with the experienced Wood.

Suddenly, angry human shouts echoed from the dark depths.

Faint, scattered flashes of firelight could also be seen.

Standing nearby, the thug Ironhead—already anxious from his grim theories—showed a drastic change in expression the moment he heard the noise.

Ignoring Xia Nan and Wood entirely, he broke into a sprint, bolting straight toward the source of the sound.

"Don't panic. I remember the way back. Let's follow him slowly," Wood said, patting Xia Nan's shoulder as he walked after the thug.

He managed his pace masterfully.

He kept Ironhead's every move clearly in sight, while leaving just enough safe distance for the two of them to retreat if things went south.

Since Wood had made the call, Xia Nan couldn't exactly stay behind in the dim, dangerous sewers by himself. He quickly followed.

...

As they drew closer, the muffled sounds bouncing off the corridor walls became distinct.

It was a massive, eardrum-piercing noise, formed by the overlapping of countless shrill, grating squeaks that made one's scalp tingle.

Even the damp, moisture-heavy air seemed to vibrate along with it, sending ripples across the murky puddles on the ground.

Only during brief lulls in the racket could the faint shouts and curses from within be clearly heard.

The headquarters of the Gray Badger Gang was an abandoned, dried-up reservoir within the Nym Sewers.

The corridor, already built exceptionally wide, expanded into a massive cavern here, resembling a small plaza.

The cleared reservoir floor consisted of bare stone blocks. Against the walls on either side, crude stairs and raised platforms had been constructed using dark timber brought down from the surface.

Tents, braziers, weapon racks... A single glance gave off a chaotic and shabby impression.

Yet, if one examined the layout closely and possessed the relevant knowledge, the practical purpose of these structures became obvious.

While it couldn't compare to a towering fortress guarding a major chokepoint, it leveraged the sewer environment to offer defensive capabilities far beyond its humble appearance.

And that was exactly why a few dozen untrained street thugs had managed to hold out against a swarm of countless gray-skinned rats for this long—relying only on torches, metal weapons, and the occasional thrown flask of lamp oil to deter the horde.

"Damn it, where's Hanson? We sent him out for help, what's his status?" shouted a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties, wearing an ostentatious fur cloak and a dark expression.

"Boss Eight-Fingers, Hanson is dead! He didn't even make it to the exit! There's nothing left of him, not even his bones!" a tattooed youth screamed back without turning his head, sweating profusely as he swung his torch.

"Fuck! Hold the line! Once this blows over, I'm booking the Nightingale's Nest for you boys for a whole month!" Eight-Fingers yelled from the highest point of the wooden platform. As the leader of these thugs, he forced himself to sound confident to rally his men.

Unfortunately, it had limited effect.

During regular turf wars against other gangs, these simple, crude promises might have been enough to double the fighting spirit of these illiterate street rats.

But in the current situation, with the entire gang on the brink of annihilation and survival itself uncertain, the Gray Badger Gang lackeys were purely driven by their survival instincts, wildly swinging their torches without regard for stamina.

"Ironhead! Boss Eight-Fingers, it's Ironhead!" one of the thugs at the edge of the platform excitedly reported after spotting the bald brute running out of the side passage.

"Good! Good, good!" Eight-Fingers whipped his head around, staring at Ironhead charging toward them. At first, he felt pure ecstasy.

Ignoring his increasingly hoarse voice, he shouted with all his might, "Don't come over here! Get outside and find help!"

"The Church, the guards, anyone!"

But then, his joy turned into fury when Ironhead stopped in his tracks, hesitating instead of immediately turning around to get reinforcements.

"What the fuck are you standing there for? Go!"

Finally, his fury shifted into shock and bewilderment as he looked past Ironhead and spotted two unfamiliar figures standing in the passage.

"Gulp."

Standing at the entrance of the passage, Xia Nan felt the vibrations in the air and heard the endless, deafening squeaks. He stared at the countless gray shadows squirming across the floor.

Goosebumps instantly erupted all over his body.

It was an unquantifiable swarm of gray-skinned rats, surging and shrieking, sporting massive bodies, filthy dark fur, and a rancid stench!

The sheer scale of the swarm—which nearly encircled the Gray Badger Gang's wooden platform—combined with the repulsive, hideous appearance of the giant rats, made Xia Nan instantly want to retreat the moment he assessed the situation.

But a second later, the hardened willpower and sharpened tactical mind forged from over half a year as an Adventurer subconsciously suppressed his body's instinct to flee.

He began analyzing the battlefield as comprehensively and meticulously as possible.

First, it was certain that the Gray Badger Gang couldn't hold out much longer against the rat swarm.

They might be able to exploit the rats' fear of fire, using torches and oil flasks to deter and limit the assault.

But these detestable little creatures living in the complex sewer system weren't as stupid as pigs or sheep in a pen.

Xia Nan could already see a few larger gray-skinned rats attempting to bypass the flames, gnawing and pulling at the thugs' pant legs.

If a thug lost his balance and was dragged to the ground, he would instantly be drowned by the rats swarming from all directions.

Under the gnawing of those hard, powerful jaws, nothing but bone fragments would be left after a few seconds.

If he let this play out, his Advancement Quest—which had only just seen some progress—would stall completely with the annihilation of the Gray Badger Gang.

Should he stand by and slip away while the swarm's attention was focused elsewhere? Or should he intervene for the sake of his quest, at least saving the gang member who knew where "Colander" Big Ben was?

His mind raced, placing the risks and rewards on a scale.

And precisely because Xia Nan had started calculating the viability of combat, he finally realized something. These rats in front of him... perhaps they weren't as dangerous to him as he had imagined?

They had the same massive numbers, the same fragile bodies, the same pack-hunting tactics...

In a way, the rat swarm didn't seem all that different from Goblins.

The only difference was replacing crude wooden clubs wielded by greenskins with razor-sharp incisors. The Goblins were even slightly more intelligent, capable of utilizing basic tactics.

These rats only knew how to surround and gnaw, and they could be forced back by a few simple torches.

Operating on this logic—if he could weave effortlessly through a battlefield of over a hundred Goblins, relying on [Fang Hunt], [Spinning Slash], and his formidable physical stats to maintain high speed and avoid encirclement...

Then substituting the enemy for this rat swarm should be exactly the same, shouldn't it?

In just a few short seconds, countless thoughts flashed through his mind.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Wood had remained rooted to his spot, showing no signs of retreating.

When their eyes met, Wood stared at the swarm and offered a silent nod, verifying Xia Nan's tactical assessment.

Awooo—

Within the sewers, saturated with the chaotic squeaking of gray-skinned rats, a long, resounding wolf howl tore through the air.

Time and space seemed to freeze at that exact moment.

A dark-furred gray-skinned rat was frozen in its threatening posture, half-reared up with its jaws wide open to bare its two hard incisors.

Reflected deep within its crimson eyes was the flickering firelight ahead, followed by an iron-gray edge that grew increasingly clear and brilliant.

A freezing, knife-like gale shredded its brittle fur into dust. Blood sprayed from the tearing wounds. Viscera and severed limbs were swept up into the swirling vortex, coalescing out of thin air into the terrifying, hazy silhouette of a roaring Wolf Head.

In the blink of an eye, the black-haired figure who had just been standing at the entrance had crossed to the far side of the plaza.

A few more streaks of warm blood stained the surface of his blade, while chunks of shredded flesh and blood rained down from the air around him.

Behind him, cutting straight through the dense rat swarm, lay a path paved with corpses and severed limbs.