Chapter 583: Ready for War with the Rat

The woman gave a short, sharp nod of agreement. Jo pushed himself upright, his legs unsteady. None of them spoke again as they turned away from the site, their footsteps heavy on the stone.

Each of them cast one final, unwilling glance at the three grey, moss-covered forms before starting back down the trail, the scavenger birds already hopping closer in their absence, returning to their gruesome feast.

***

The guild hall the next day felt heavier than stone, the atmosphere pressing down on everyone who entered.

Conversation that normally filled the high-raftered space had thinned to almost nothing, replaced by a suffocating silence.

Adventurers sat in scattered clusters or stood alone along the walls, their voices hushed, their movements subdued. Some wept quietly in the corners, shoulders shaking, faces turned away from the room so no one could see their grief.

Others simply stared at the floor or at the ranking banners that hung motionless in the still air, their eyes empty and unfocused.

The usual clatter of tankards and the scrape of chairs had been replaced by an uneasy silence broken only by the occasional muffled sob or the soft creak of leather when someone shifted position, the sounds amplified in the quiet.

The threat known as "the rat" had been serious before—an invisible presence that left death and unanswered questions in its wake—but never so deliberately targeted.

The deaths of Octavius, Eve, and Janin had changed the weight of the fear, had transformed it from abstract concern to visceral terror.

Every person in the hall had the same unspoken question in their minds: who would be next?

Heka sat near the center of the main floor. And her voice, when she finally spoke, was low and solemn, carrying across the hall with quiet authority.

"He was an eccentric man, but one who had a lot of potential, a lot of room to grow. I even planned to secretly teach him how to use a sword properly too, to help him improve. I also do not think he deserved such a gruesome fate."

Benjamin sat beside her, expression composed, and gave a single small nod of agreement.

Around them Eric and the rest of the usual group remained subdued, faces tight with the same unsettled silence that filled the rest of the hall, their eyes downcast and their voices still.

No one yet seemed certain what the deaths truly meant for the days ahead, what consequences would follow.

Kapil rose abruptly from a bench near the wall, his movement sharp and sudden. Hatred twisted his features into something sharp and hard, his jaw clenched with fury.

"Being sad won't bring justice to Octavius and his friends. And it certainly won't bring them back from the dead!" His voice cut across the quiet like a blade, sharp and commanding. "We have all been too complacent with 'the rat,' and this is the horrible result we are seeing. Fooling with us like this… As it has begun, many more will occur if we don't make a move of our own… Wai—I don't mean right now, Siberia! Don't do anything rash!"

The short-stacked woman had surged to her feet in the same moment, one hand already locked around the hilt of her oversized sword, ready to charge into open war on the spot.

Kapil's fist closed on her collar and yanked her back down before she could take a single step, her body jerking backward.

Eric leaned closer to Benjamin and spoke in a near whisper, seeking some kind of direction. "Benjamin, what do you think? What is your assessment?"

Benjamin's gaze drifted toward the ranking banners that hung along the far wall, his eyes distant. His face remained almost emotionless and unreadable.

[I think it's inevitable for people (not to mention, adventurers) to die, and I don't feel sad in the least, not even a little,] he thought privately. [I agree with Kapil; mourning him like this isn't going to avenge him. It won't change anything. He was a big, fat fool, and I suspect—with what I have seen from him—he probably challenged what he should have run away from.]

Aloud he answered in the same calm tone he had used all morning, his voice steady. "The attacker… They attacked me and Heka yesterday as well. They tried to kill me."

The effect was immediate. The entire guild stirred as though a current had passed through the floor, a wave of shock and alarm.

Gasps and sharp murmurs rose on every side, voices overlapping. Heads turned. Several adventurers half-rose from their seats, their faces pale.

Eric was on his feet at once, faint anger flashing bright in his green eyes, his voice rising. "What do you mean?! You were attacked yesterday?! Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Heka inclined her head in confirmation, her expression grave.

"It is true. It was an archer, and an outstanding one with terrifying skill. They shot a highly poisonous arrow at Benjamin, but I caught it before it hit. Then I tossed it back to them as a warning. Possibly riled by that, they switched targets to the closest prey they could find. And those three happened to be on the mountain, in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Her eyes softened for a moment with clear pity for the dead trio and a quieter regret that she had not pursued the culprit the instant the arrow left her hand, that she had not hunted them down then and there.

Benjamin continued, voice still even and calm:

"So yeah, Kapil is right. They probably want to pick us out one by one now, eliminating us systematically. At least, we now know part of their goal and motive. This rat might have a serious grudge against the adventurer system itself."

Inside his own mind the resolve settled cleanly and without drama.

[Either way… I'll catch them very soon and end this. Death isn't funny. It's the end of ambition, feelings, and future, the end of everything. Life is precious, and I won't sit and let them toy with it.]

Kapil drew his sword halfway from its sheath, the steel whispering against leather, the sound sharp and deliberate, then shoved it home again.

He turned toward the main doors and started walking, his footsteps heavy. A loose group of adventurers fell in behind him without needing to be called, their faces set with determination.

"Everyone, be careful out there, stay alert!" he said over his shoulder, his voice swimming to every corner of the hall. "Our enemy is invisible and strikes with precision, without warning. Let us take Octavius' death as a lesson."

Benjamin watched them go, his eyes following their retreating forms, then lifted a mug of ale and took a slow sip, the liquid warm against his tongue. The thought that rose next was practical and calculating.

[I was about to suggest we use adventurers as bait to lure and catch the rat... but I'll probably be hated for it. So let's read the room and leave it for later. And I didn't know adventurers mourned themselves like this. Was Octavius that popular?]