Chapter 307: 307

His ears twitched suddenly, catching the faint sound of someone approaching. The ratman turned his head slightly, spotting one of the stable goblin boys entering the enclosure, dragging a small cart filled with tools and supplies.

“Hey,” the goblin boy called out, his voice rough from sleep. “Boss said you need to help reinforce the northern gate today. Heard some of the boards came loose.”

The ratman sighed, pushing himself up from the ground. His muscles ached, still tired from the morning’s labor, but there was no choice. He nodded in response, slowly getting to his feet.

“After that, you’ll need to clean the pens. The nobles are having a feast tonight, so they’ll be checking the stables. You know how it is—everything has to be spotless,” the boy added, giving him a half-smirk before turning away.

The ratman grumbled under his breath but said nothing. This was his life—a constant cycle of labor and exhaustion, all to keep the mansion’s animals fed, the stables clean, and the nobles satisfied. He grabbed a long, rusted rake from the cart and made his way toward the northern gate.

In the carriage, Ikenga and Keles watched through the small portal, their eyes fixed on the ratman’s daily routine.

“This one seems to have adapted well to his role,” Keles remarked, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Or perhaps he’s simply given up hope of anything changing.”

Ikenga, leaning forward slightly, observed the ratman’s movements. “It’s not adaptation—it’s survival,” he said. “But there’s a difference between enduring and breaking. I wonder which one he’ll choose.”

Just as he spoke, something strange caught their attention. As the ratman approached the northern gate with the rake in hand, a low, growling sound echoed from beyond the wooden fence. The ratman paused, his ears perking up as he turned toward the noise. It wasn’t one of the stable beasts—that much was clear. This was something different.

The gate rattled violently, as though something was trying to force its way through from the other side.

Ikenga’s eyes narrowed. “That’s unusual.”

The ratman cautiously approached the gate, his heart pounding in his chest. He pressed his thin body against the wooden boards, peering through a small gap between them. For a moment, he saw nothing—just the empty space beyond the fence. But then, with a sudden crash, something massive slammed against the gate, sending splinters flying.

The ratman jumped back, his thin frame trembling as the gate shook again. The growling grew louder, more aggressive. Whatever was on the other side was strong—and getting more agitated by the second.

Keles tilted her head, intrigued. “This could get interesting.”

Before the ratman could react further, the gate exploded open, and a hulking, shadowy figure emerged, its eyes glowing with a feral intensity. It wasn’t one of the usual stable beasts—this was something wild, something that had wandered in from the outskirts of the estate.

The ratman froze, terror washing over him. His legs felt like they were made of stone as the creature slowly advanced, its heavy breathing sending plumes of mist into the morning air.

From the carriage, Ikenga watched the scene unfold with quiet intensity. “He’s going to have to make a choice now.”

Keles leaned forward, her expression curious. “Fight or flee?”

The ratman’s mind raced as the beast drew closer, its teeth bared in a snarl. He could hear the voices of the nobles in his head, their expectations weighing on him. He knew that running would only result in punishment later—they would call him a coward. But fighting? He had no weapons, no strength to stand against such a creature.

His hand clenched around the handle of the rake. It was all he had, though it felt pathetically inadequate. The ratman’s grip tightened on the rake, his thoughts swirling in panic as the monstrous boar loomed closer. Its eyes were wild, filled with rage, and it seemed as though it recognized him. It snorted aggressively, lowering its tusks in preparation to charge.

Memories flashed through the ratman’s mind, recalling the strange events from the previous day—the appearance of the massive eye above the city, an omen that had sent ripples of fear and confusion through the town. The guards, usually diligent in protecting the perimeter, had been scattered, their focus elsewhere. That must have been why this section of the wall was left unguarded, and now, he was the unlucky soul left to face this beast alone.

His heart raced as he quickly evaluated his situation. Running meant certain punishment from the nobles, who would see his cowardice as a sign of weakness. But fighting this enormous boar with only a rake seemed like madness. He glanced around, hoping for some kind of escape, but the path was blocked.

Underground, the five figures walking in the tunnel below halted, their conversation interrupted by the rumble of the boar’s hooves above. One of them, a wiry ratman with sharp eyes, crouched down, feeling the vibrations in the earth.

“Did you hear that?” one of them whispered.

The wiry ratman didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he set down the bundle of squealing baby boars and pulled out a piece of equipment from his pack. It was a small, hand-cranked drill, and he quickly set to work, boring a tiny hole through the earth above them. Once the drill had done its job, he stowed it away and pulled out a compact telescope, extending it through the newly created hole to peer up at the surface.

Through the lens, he saw the massive boar, its huge bulk towering over a lone ratman, who looked pitifully small in comparison, clutching a flimsy rake. His eyes widened, and he let out a low curse.

“Oh shit.”

His companions, also ratmen and women, gathered around him, their curiosity piqued by his reaction. One of them, a tall ratwoman with scarred arms, hissed in frustration. “What now? We can’t afford to be seen!”

The wiry ratman pulled the telescope away from the hole, his expression grim. “It’s one of ours—up there, facing down that monster boar.”

Another ratman, shorter but has a heroic look to him, peered through the telescope. “We should help him,” he suggested, his voice eager. “He’s one of us!”

The rat woman, however, shook her head firmly. “No. We stick to the plan. If we interfere, we’ll draw too much attention. We can’t afford that right now.” She glanced at the squealing baby boars they had captured. “We’ve got what we came for. Let’s get moving before someone notices the hole.”

The ratwoman sighed, dropping the baby boar she was holding with a thud. She knew that if they didn’t intervene, the lone ratman would be as good as dead. The boar wasn’t just some feral animal; there was something unnatural about it, its eyes glowing faintly with a magical aura that unnerved even the most battle-hardened among them.

“Fine,” she relented, glaring at her companions, “but something’s going on up there, and it’ll do us no good if we’re seen by those damn mages. So here’s the deal: we take down the boar, and then we vanish. No talking to him. No explanations. Understood?”

Her tone left no room for argument. The other ratmen, still hesitant but bound by their loyalty to one another, nodded in agreement.

The wiry ratman with the telescope, named Scraps, spoke first. “We got no magic, no reinforcements. But we’ve got tech. I’ve got a few ideas.”

The heroic-looking ratman, Flint, grinned eagerly, his muscles flexing beneath his leather gear. “Whatever it is, make it quick. That boar’s going to turn our comrade into mince meat if we don’t act soon.”

Above ground, the lone ratman swung the rake desperately, his blows weak against the thick hide of the magical boar, his nimble body does well enough against the huge beast as he manages to dodge but he was getting tired. The beast, annoyed by the subtle hits, snorted in fury, preparing for another charge. The ratman stumbled backward, his legs giving out and quivering, heart pounding in his chest.

Just as the boar lowered its tusks to gore him, the ground beneath them began to rumble. A sharp metallic screech filled the air as the ratpeople from below surfaced with their steampunk tech, emerging from the tunnel with steam-powered pistols and mechanical devices strapped to their backs.

The ratwoman, their leader, quickly assessed the situation. “Scraps, on the flanks. Flint, keep it distracted. We hit it hard and fast. No mistakes!”

Flint was the first to move, sprinting forward with an explosive burst of speed. His boots, fitted with steam-powered pistons, propelled him across the battlefield. He landed in front of the boar, his gauntlets hissing as gears whirred to life. The ratman punched forward, striking the beast square in the snout with a thunderous crack. The boar stumbled, more in surprise than pain, but it was enough to get its attention off the lone ratman.

“Over here, ugly!” Flint taunted, slamming his fists together. The gauntlets hissed with pressurized steam, readying for another blow.

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