Chapter 256: Netherytes: Ratchyrs II

Meanwhile, Veyrath studied the Ratchyrs, his expression tightening with distaste. "You said they’re disagreeable. But they look as though someone forced a rat and a bat to breed in a plague-ridden sewer, all for the sole purpose of creating nature’s most revolting mistake."

"Your powers of observation are magnificent, Veyrath," Aelric muttered sarcastically, each word dripping with the weary contempt of a tutor explaining why fire was hot. He shook his head. "Unfortunately, your instinct for self-preservation leaves much to be desired."

Aelric knew most of them were still underestimating the creatures despite his warning, and he could hardly blame them. Veyrath merely rolled his eyes.

"Then tell us what makes them so dangerous. You can’t seriously expect us to fear a bunch of sewage-eating beasts, especially after everything we’ve survived."

The argument was not entirely unreasonable. Since their exile, they had endured ghastly monsters and narrowly escaped death often enough that a colony of vermin seemed almost mundane. Their growing confidence made it difficult to take Aelric’s warning seriously, revealing just how much their present state of mind had changed.

Aelric drew a slow breath, apparently restraining the urge to snap at the Alchemist again. His emerald gaze flicked towards the creatures, and his voice dropped several octaves, quiet enough not to compete with the incessant clicking filling the chamber.

"Ratchyrs have terrible eyesight, so they rely almost entirely on echolocation, much like bats. Hear those clicks?"

"Those sounds let them map their surroundings, identify obstacles, and detect the slightest movement. Their hearing is extraordinarily sensitive, and their ability to distinguish sounds is far more sophisticated than you might expect. The main reason they haven’t realised we’re here is that they’re occupied with whatever foul business keeps them so thoroughly entertained."

Kaeloris adjusted his glasses without taking his eyes off the colony. "So, if we remain quiet and avoid moving too much, they shouldn’t be able to locate us accurately, correct?"

"Not exactly." Aelric’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "They can detect movement through the slightest changes in air pressure and the echoes returning to them. It’s unlikely we could remain completely invisible. In fact, there’s no doubt they’ve already detected something. The only reason they haven’t attacked is that they haven’t decided whether we’re predators—or, worse, prey."

His brows drew together as he glanced at the creatures again. "If one of them reaches that conclusion, it’ll investigate. And that could spell the end for us."

He shrugged. "Well, for you lot, anyway."

"Investigate?" Caelestra whispered, her usual composure wavering. "Why does that sound considerably worse than it should?"

"Because it is," Aelric replied, his voice turning colder. "Ratchyrs are scavengers by nature, which makes them curious about unfamiliar presences and situations. They’re also territorial predators. They feed on carrion, hunt smaller Animas, and attack anything they perceive as a threat to their feeding grounds. Individually, they’re manageable. In a swarm, they’re a catastrophe. Trust me, you don’t want to discover how ugly things become when they descend on you together."

Aelric’s explanation sounded like an elaborate list of reasons to abandon the temple. Regaleon had returned hoping, as with the crypt, to uncover secrets in the ancient structure. Instead, they had met another calamity before beginning their investigation. Regaleon, Valmyr, Vaelorin, and Kaeloris wondered whether the temple was a beacon for misfortune. Their first visit had nearly cost them their lives to a feline Anima; now they had stumbled upon a whole colony of trouble.

Regaleon studied the Ratchyrs more closely, narrowing his golden eyes as he assessed their movements and anatomy. Their bodies were small compared with the formidable Animas they had encountered in the Nether Lands, yet their erratic movements and unnatural proportions made them difficult to judge. Some clung upside down to broken pillars, while others squeezed through narrow crevices with disturbing agility. Their leathery wings occasionally unfurled, carrying them silently between elevated ledges.

"How strong are they?" he finally whispered.

"Strong enough to tear flesh from bone," Aelric answered. "Don’t let their size fool you. Every one of them is as strong as a Rank One Anima, and because they’re Netherytes, they’re stronger than Animas of the same rank. They’re tough, too. But strength isn’t what makes them dreadful. It’s their numbers, coordination, and persistence. Once a swarm identifies its prey, it rarely abandons the hunt. That’s what makes them terrifying."

"And don’t even think about fighting them. Leaving is preferable to facing them in battle."

"What are we still doing here?" Vaelorin demanded in a low whisper, his fiery red eyes darting from the Ratchyrs to Aelric. "If he’s telling us to leave, why are we standing around instead of listening?"

His blunt question punctured their lingering disbelief. They followed Aelric’s instructions and began retreating with painstaking care, avoiding loose rubble and treacherous fragments of stone. Even Valmyr, whose imposing physique was poorly suited to subtlety, suppressed his usual heavy-footed gait.

For several moments, their withdrawal proceeded without incident. The Ratchyrs continued scurrying through the ruins, apparently oblivious to the intruders among them. Their clicks persisted in the darkness, interrupted occasionally by the faint rustle of leathery wings or the scrape of claws against stone. Gradually, Aelric’s shoulders loosened, although the tension remained etched along his jaw.

"Keep moving," he whispered. "Don’t stare at them for too long, and whatever you do, don’t—"

A deep rumble suddenly reverberated throughout the temple.

The sound was so profound that the stone beneath their feet seemed to shudder. Dust cascaded from the ceiling, and loose fragments of masonry rattled across the floor. Every member of the group froze, colour draining from their faces as they turned towards the source of the disturbance.

The massive stone door.

The entrance through which they had entered had remained open since their arrival, its enormous slab resting beyond the threshold. None had paid it much attention after crossing into the chamber, assuming the ancient mechanism had long since ceased to function. Yet now, without warning, the door had begun to move.

"What’s happening?" Sylveris whispered, her voice trembling.

"Don’t move," Aelric breathed.

The grinding intensified as the colossal slab descended towards its original position. Stone scraped against stone, producing a dreadful, protracted shriek that echoed through the chamber.

Then came several thunderous impacts as the door settled into place, sealing the entrance with a finality that made the entire temple resemble a tomb.

For one suspended instant, nobody spoke. Then Veyrath’s eyes widened. "Oh, no."

Aelric slowly closed his eyes, his expression contorting with the anguish of a man watching his worst nightmare unfold exactly as predicted.

"Shit." The curse escaped in a whisper, but its bitterness was unmistakable.

Across the chamber, the Ratchyrs had ceased their activities. One by one, their clicking sounds dwindled into silence. The creatures that had been scrambling across pillars, rummaging through rubble, and fluttering between broken walls now stood perfectly still. Their oversized ears rotated towards the sealed entrance, catching the fading reverberations of the door.

Then, with a synchronicity that sent an icy shiver down Regaleon’s spine, every Ratchyr turned its head.

The group stood directly between the creatures and the stone door.

And now, every single Ratchyr was looking straight at them...