'Die... die... die...' Lumine repeated in her mind, irritated by the endless swarm of furry creatures. She drove her sword into one rat after another, her strikes quick and precise. Though the constant fighting had improved her speed and efficiency—her movements now far more controlled with fewer wasted motions—it was still frustrating.
It wasn't enough to escape the disgusting stench and sticky blood that clung to her with every kill. Worse, despite her growing skill, she still took hits here and there, small mistakes slipping through simply because of the sheer number of enemies.
She wasn't the only one feeling fed up. The entire team was growing restless. They had spent almost the entire afternoon searching for the source of these creatures, and now, with half the evening gone, they still had nothing to show for it.
In that time, they had slain over a thousand of these creatures—and that was just the count from the regular members. Cassian alone had killed just as many on his own.
The only one with a significantly lower count was Wanni, who remained at the back with Hope on her shoulder, shielding herself and the horses with magic. Occasionally, she would hurl a water ball at any monster that strayed too close or tried to ambush the others.
"We should check the other units' areas. We've completely scoured every inch of our own," Robert suggested as they finished dealing with the monster corpses.
There wasn't much of value on these magic beasts. Their fur was foul-smelling, too rough and greasy to be used for anything decent. The meat was riddled with disease, completely inedible. The only worthwhile part was their long, sharp teeth—useful for making arrowheads.
In short, there was nothing worth keeping intact, and they couldn't leave the bodies to rot in the forest; the stench and spread of rot would be a problem. So, the best option was to burn them—which they did. Thankfully, the flames didn't damage the teeth much, allowing them to be collected afterward.
Not everyone had the kind of money Cassian did, after all.
As they piled the dead bodies into a large heap, preparing for yet another rat bonfire, the group began discussing their next steps. Cassian glanced at the setting sun, his expression tightening.
"We'll have to guard this area through the night," he ordered. He didn't like the idea—fighting these things in daylight was annoying enough, but nighttime would be worse. Even though the rats were weaker at night, humans couldn't see well in the dark. These monsters, however, were born in deep cracks and tunnels; they could see just fine in pitch black.
"We're close to Unit 61's area, right?" Cassian asked.
Wanni, who'd been in charge of the map, gave a nod. "Yeah, not far."
"Then let's head over and see if the others are knee-deep in rat guts like us—and maybe rope them into helping too," Cassian said.
Wanni didn't even wait for the rest to respond. She calmly raised her hand and launched a fireball at the pile of rat corpses. Their dry, grimy fur caught fire with a satisfying fwoosh, flames crackling as the stench of roasted rat filled the air.
"Let's move," Cassian ordered, mounting his horse.
The rest of the team paused, torn between moving on and the small fortune crackling in the flames. All except Wanni, who was already flipping open the map again with calm indifference—her noble upbringing practically radiating from the way she ignored the burning money.
Robert stared at the pile like it had personally offended him. "Wait, we're just gonna let all those silver-stuffed teeth roast? That's literal coin going up in smoke!"
He glanced at the others, clearly hoping someone would back him up—maybe even start a heroic, teeth-rescuing charge into the fire.
Cassian looked over his shoulder, expression flat. "If your love for silver's burning that hot, You're welcome to jump into the fire. Just make it quick—we're leaving in a minute."
"I mean... not that deep," Robert grumbled, crossing his arms. "But it hurts, man. That's beer money just going up in smoke."
"The teeth'll still be there if you're that desperate later," Cassian said, nudging his horse forward. "Let's meet the other unit before we lose daylight. Fighting blind with rats crawling up your pants doesn't sound fun, does it?"
Robert sighed dramatically but followed, still muttering something about silver teeth and betrayal. The others chuckled, their weariness lightened just a bit as they rode off, leaving the bonfire of rat corpses crackling behind them like some weird forest-side barbecue.
Just a dozen minutes later, luck seemed to favor them—they heard the distant sounds of battle echoing through the trees.
"Stay back and wait for my signal," Cassian said, leaping from his horse without hesitation. He darted toward the noise, his speed outpacing even the horses. He only rode with his unit for convenience—and to stay close, not because he needed it.
There was another reason for his cautious approach: he wasn't sure who was fighting up ahead. In a situation , he couldn't afford to rush in recklessly. It wasn't just wild magical beasts they were up against—they were also dealing with cults. That meant every encounter could be a trap.
But to his relief, what he found was just another unit—young soldiers, clearly human, battling a swarm of rats. Their formation was familiar: seven members, just like his team, with one mage and a single Circle Warrior among them. Nothing strange. No cult. No twisted magic.
Just more rat trouble.
Despite having more people than Cassian's own unit, the group was clearly struggling. But it wasn't hard to see why—the rats weren't just a handful. From what Cassian could tell, there were at least a few hundred of the filthy beasts swarming the area, forcing the unit into a defensive formation.
The only one managing to thin the horde was their Circle Warrior, and even he was at a disadvantage. He wielded a pair of knives—quick, but not ideal for crowd control. His fighting style marked him as a duelist, meant for one-on-one skirmishes, not for cutting down masses. Cassian watched with a spark of amusement.
Cause this meant, Cassian had a perfect chance to be the hero of the hour.