Cold, bloody water seeped into the scorched soil beneath Gauss’s feet.
With one boot planted firmly on the unmoving back of a giant rat, he drove his slender sword through its chest once more, the blade flashing cold and sharp.
He pulled the sword out. The tainted blood sprayed as he gave it a quick flick to clean the edge.
His eyes scanned the wrecked battlefield.
Sure, the Adventurer's Manual gave kill notifications, but mistakes could still slip through during combat. Some monsters might only be half-dead.
So Gauss had developed a habit: always double-tap. Finish the job clean.
Occasionally, a new kill alert popped up—little surprises while cleaning up.
Alia and her massive wolf watched quietly as Gauss moved methodically from body to body.
She wiped the sticky blood off her cheek with a piece of cloth, still a little dazed from the intensity of the fight.
Looking at Gauss now, her gaze shifted.
That close-quarters performance? Better than most sword-wielders she’d seen.
If she hadn’t watched him cast magic earlier, she would've sworn he was a warrior—not a mage.
“That shield spell of his really held up well…”
She subconsciously pressed a hand against her side, through her armor. A ratmen spear had struck her there earlier.
Even though her armor would've held on its own, there was no way she’d have walked away without a scratch—yet her body was spotless. Not a bruise in sight.
“Honestly... it’s kinda nice teaming up with him.”
The thought crept into her head.
They were only a two-person team, but it felt smoother than many four- or five-man squads she'd been part of before.
All she needed to do was cast control spells and stop the occasional straggler. Gauss handled everything else.
Sniping archers with Magic Missiles. Diving into melee like a storm with his sword. His efficiency was wild.
This guy just hit Bronze-rank? For real?
Sometimes when she tried to help clean up monsters, Gauss would gently tell her to stay back and focus on control.
That calm, low-key thoughtfulness? It caught her off guard.
What kind of mage charges the frontlines like that?
Was he just trying to show off since it was their first time working together? Or was that just who he was?
Either way, she had to admit—Gauss was… reliable. Someone you could trust to watch your back.
“Those ratmen hiding now?”
Gauss had gone through every fallen rat and ratmen, giving each one a final strike. His gaze shifted to the old, crumbling church.
Other than the cavalry squad they just wiped out—and a few archers scattered by Magic Missiles—no other reinforcements had shown up.
It was like the rest of the ratmen were playing dead. As long as they didn’t move, they figured they were safe.
Gauss just wanted to catch his breath.
But he couldn’t relax for too long—there might be hidden escape routes in the basement.
“Alia, how’re you holding up?”
“No problem. Ready to go anytime,” she replied firmly, brushing off her thoughts.
Gauss glanced at the protective shield still glowing faintly around her. Energy levels were high. She was good to go.
Despite the intense fighting, he hadn’t even needed to tap into his backup energy reserves.
In the end, this was just a well-armed ratmen cavalry squad—not a real threat, just time-consuming.
After a quick rest, rehydration, and a few bites of dried rations, Gauss nodded.
He and Alia approached the eerie, bone-white ruins of the abandoned church with cautious steps.
“Why’re you walking so far ahead?”
Gauss called out as she edged several steps in front.
“Can’t let you do all the work,” she said, a little embarrassed, like she hadn’t pulled her weight in the last fight.
“And druids are more suited to taking the front than you squishy spellcasters, right?”
Druids weren’t tanks, but they generally had better perception and constitution than mages. So yeah, they were better frontline support.
But... he wasn’t your average mage.
In this duo, his defense probably outclassed hers by a mile.
And saying he did “everything” was just false modesty. Without her Entangle spells slowing those rats, that last fight wouldn’t have gone half as smoothly.
Gauss sighed silently. Whatever. Let her lead—she wasn’t too far ahead anyway.
Alia left her wolf outside the church to stand guard in case of a flanking attack.
Together, they pushed open the massive, rotted wooden doors—full of holes and heavy with age.
The moment the doors cracked open, a vile stench hit them like a wave.
Rotting rat feces, old wax, moldy stone, and spoiled food mixed together into one suffocating smell.
Even through their masks, the air felt thick and nauseating.
The stone pews on either side were shattered and crumbling, covered in layers of dried grime. Every step made a faint squelching sound.
Light barely reached inside—just a few narrow rays slipping through cracked windows high on the walls.
Once-beautiful stained-glass murals depicting saints had long since shattered, leaving only ragged holes.
Cold air poured in, swirling with dust and rat fur. Even the sunlight here felt dirty.
Gauss stepped onto the crusty, disgusting floor and barely resisted the urge to gag.
But he didn’t show it.
This was normal for an adventurer.
Monster dens were never clean—whether it was abandoned buildings, dark caves, or sunless pits.
People with OCD had no place in this line of work.
His eyes swept across the disgusting chapel and landed on a set of worn stairs leading downward.
A few terrified rats scrambled away at the base of the stairwell.
Gauss and Alia approached a heavy wooden door. It was locked.
If they had a full party, this would be the rogue’s moment to shine.
But neither of them were rogues.
“Step back for a sec.”
Alia retreated as Gauss pulled a heavy iron staff from his inventory.
Was he about to use magic?
She watched curiously.
Gauss took a deep breath—and with a sudden burst of strength, slammed the staff into the center of the door.
The deafening bang echoed through the church.
Splinters flew everywhere.
The ancient door groaned and shook violently, about to fall apart.
Gauss followed up with a solid kick to the edge.
The door collapsed inward, sending a cloud of choking dust into the air.
“We’re in.” Gauss waved her forward.
Alia stood there stunned.
“Wait... you just brute-forced it?”
“Yep. I work out.” Gauss said casually.
Alia stared at the mangled door, then back at the staff in his hand—clearly a casting tool, not a weapon.
Was this seriously just from “working out”?
The longer she spent around him, the less he felt like a mage.
Gauss, unaware of her thoughts, peeked down the now-exposed stairwell.
He kicked a startled rat into the darkness and listened.
Only the sound of tiny feet scurrying. No big movements.
He and Alia descended.
The staff’s tip lit up with soft white light, pushing back the darkness.
Cold stone walls appeared ahead.
They advanced cautiously, Gauss using Insight and Mage Hand to probe for traps.
Only a thicker, bloodier smell in the air.
At the bottom of the stairs, the cellar opened before them—larger than expected. Big enough to house a full ratmen colony.
Just dead rats on the floor. Nothing else.
Were they hiding? Or already gone?
Gauss stepped on a corpse. The squish echoed in the silence.
Instinct screamed at him.
A few lean ratmen clung upside-down to the ceiling chandelier, glowing green energy forming between their claws.
A wave of burning green slime splashed down from above!
Gauss dodged. Alia retreated.
Still, the narrow room meant they got splashed.
The acid sizzled against Gauss’s Forcefield, releasing clouds of white smoke—but they were unharmed.
Gauss’s staff fired—striking the rusted chain holding the chandelier.
It crashed to the ground—ratmen spellcasters and all.
They hit the floor hard, dazed.
Before they could recover, Gauss drew his rapier and finished them off.
[Total Monster Kills: 411]
Ratmen spellcasters? Apprentices?
Gauss was genuinely surprised.
This small tribe had cavalry and spellcasters?
Where were they getting this kind of power?
Self-taught? Or some kind of bloodline memory?
They pressed deeper. Dark rooms lined either side of the passage.
Gauss’s light revealed more red eyes hiding in the dark.
“Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!”
Arrows poured out like rain, striking armor and shield.
“Fall back and prep Entangle,” Gauss ordered.
Then he pulled out a huge pouch of fire oil, hurled it into the room—then launched a Firebolt.
The room went up in flames.
Screaming ratmen staggered in the blaze. Some tried to flee, but Gauss kicked them back inside.
[Total Monster Kills: 432]
That was just 40. Where were the rest?
He kept sweeping the rooms—empty, or burned out.
Eventually, they reached the final chamber. Thɪs chapter is updated by n0velfire.net
A massive sunken space, clearly once a sacred altar.
It was a horror show.
Bloated ratmen corpses, giant rats, and unidentifiable human and animal remains floated in a bubbling green sludge, along with rotting roots and pulpy organs.
The smell of death and corruption was overwhelming.
And at the edge of the altar—
An ancient ratmen stood, unmoving. Watching.
Its eyes, cloudy and dead, locked on Gauss.
In perfect human tongue:
“The eyes of Vespeteria are upon you.”
Then, with crazed devotion, it leaned back—
—and dropped into the green pit.
The entire pool, along with all the corpses and debris, vanished.
Swallowed by something unseen.
At the center, only a single, pale, rapidly fading scale remained.
Gauss and Alia stared at each other.
The cellar was dead quiet now. Only smoke and the stench of burning rot remained.
…What the hell just happened?
Who or what is "Vespeteria"?
And perhaps more importantly—
Does this count as completing the quest?
Do we still get paid?