Chapter 321: 321

The female goblin’s gaze lingered on the disruptor, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied it in the engineer’s hands. The room remained eerily silent, every ratman too afraid to speak or even shift under the weight of her presence. Even though the ratfolk were no strangers to dealing with goblins, this was different. This was Vellok’s apprentice—a force of authority and arcane power.

“You’ve been busy,” the goblin mage finally said, her voice cold and cutting as she floated effortlessly above the floor. The contempt in her tone was unmistakable, as if the very idea of the ratmen tampering with magic was beneath her.

The chief, still kneeling, raised his head slightly. “Apprentice Tahlia,” he began carefully, “we—”

“Spare me your explanations,” Tahlia interrupted, her eyes now fixed on the disruptor. “I’m aware of what transpired on the surface. Vellok himself is intrigued by this… invention of yours.” Her lip curled slightly. “However, curiosity can quickly turn to suspicion.”

The room seemed to grow colder with her words, the tension mounting once more. Por, standing at the edge of the group, felt her heart quicken. She had faced danger on the surface before, but this was different. At least on the surface, she could fight back. Here, the thought of resisting was no longer an option.

Tahlia’s floating eye drifted toward the disruptor, the small orb glowing faintly as it focused on the device. “Tell me,” she said, her voice now directed at the engineer, “how exactly did you come by this technology?”

The engineer’s hands trembled slightly as he held the disruptor, his mind racing for a response. He knew that the truth—a truth that tied the ratmen to stolen scraps of magical knowledge—could condemn them. But lying to a mage of Tahlia’s caliber could be worse. He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully.

Before he could speak, the chief cut him off. “Your majesty, this was conceived by us, and the creation of such technology was nothing but a mistake.”

“For our own safety, and to better hunt for food, we were forced to think of a way to deal with the magical beasts that hunt us. It took many years before this device was created.”

Tahlia’s eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking from the chief to the trembling engineer. “A mistake, you say?” Her voice was cold, devoid of any warmth or sympathy.

During Vellok’s research on the device, he noticed it bore a striking resemblance to one of the technological knowledge left behind by the mages who birthed them; also the process of creation shows that while the material is different from the original, it was created to achieve the same purpose. This finding raised many questions—how had the ratmen acquired such knowledge, and who had given it to them? Initially, they believed the ratmen had come up with this technology on their own, but it now appeared they had received help.

The floating eye beside Tahlia glowed more brightly, intensifying its scrutiny of the disruptor. “Interesting, considering this ’mistake’ bears a striking similarity to classified goblin technology.”

The room grew even heavier, the pressure of her words pressing down on everyone present. The chief’s tail twitched in agitation, but he kept his voice steady.

“Your majesty,” the chief began again, his tone more measured this time, “I assure you, we did not steal this from the Tower or any goblin mage. We understand the dangers of meddling in affairs beyond our means. This was born purely out of necessity, from our need to survive the harsh conditions we face on the surface.”

Tahlia’s lips curled into a thin, dangerous smile. “Necessity, yes. Survival.” She floated closer, her eyes boring into the chief’s. “Do you realize the position you’ve put yourself in? The Tower is not lenient when it comes to such ’mistakes,’ especially when they concern devices that can interfere with magic. Your disruptor may not affect those at my level,” she said, casting a dismissive glance at the device, “but it still has the potential to destabilize things far greater than your survival.”

Por, still standing at the edge of the room, felt the tension mounting and knew they had to tread carefully. She stepped forward, her voice firm but respectful. “We understand the gravity of our actions, Apprentice Tahlia. But we had no intention of threatening the Tower or its authority. The disruptor was created as a last resort, a tool to defend ourselves. We wouldn’t dare challenge the balance.”

Tahlia’s eyes flicked to Por, her expression unreadable for a moment before she spoke again. “Whether you intended to or not is irrelevant. What matters is that this device exists, and the Tower is very interested in how it came to be.”

The floating eye shifted its focus, hovering now between the engineer and the disruptor, as if considering its next move. Tahlia’s voice dropped to a near-whisper, though it carried enough menace for the entire room to hear. “Vellok himself has taken an interest in this. Do you know what that means? His curiosity is not a privilege; it’s a danger. If he deems your little experiment too risky, there will be consequences.”

The chief’s throat tightened, his eyes shifting nervously to the others in the room. He knew the danger they were in now, teetering on the edge of something far worse than just scrutiny.

Por’s fists clenched, but she kept her tone steady. “What must we do to prove we are no threat?”

Meanwhile, in his tower, Vellok smiled as he watched the scene unfold. After learning about the device, the Empire had already developed a countermeasure for it, and this knowledge had been transmitted to all mages. They were now prepared for encounters like this.

What Vellok found most delightful was that for the true power of this technology to work, it requires those who are mana friendly and can use mana. It just so happens that the ratfolk are neither of those so their threat level to him has diminished.

His student Tahlia whole behavior and attitude was so that the ratfolk can say the word Por just said. It now makes it easier to achieve their original goal with the ratmen.

Vellok’s delight grew as he continued watching from his tower. The true brilliance of the situation was that the ratfolk, despite their ingenuity, were powerless to wield the full potential of the disruptor. For the device to truly be effective, it required users who were attuned to mana and could manipulate its flow. The ratfolk, who lacked both the ability and affinity for magic, were simply incapable of unlocking its true destructive power. As far as Vellok was concerned, their threat had already been neutralized.

Tahlia, his student, had played her role perfectly. Her cold demeanor, the tension she skillfully escalated, all served to manipulate the ratmen into a corner. Por’s desperate question had been the moment they were waiting for—the final surrender of control, veiled in a plea for survival. Now, Vellok’s original plan for the ratmen could be fully realized.

Back underground, the atmosphere was suffocating. After Por’s words, Tahlia floated back a few paces, her expression unreadable. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a scroll from the staff she carried. The scroll glowed faintly, its insignia unmistakable. The moment Por recognized it, she dropped back down to her knees, her heart sinking even further.

“The Tower Master Vellok isn’t the only one with a vested interest in you ratfolk,” Tahlia began, her voice steady but laced with authority. “The Emperor himself has heard of your ingenuity and is… pleased with how far you have come.”

With deliberate slowness, Tahlia unfurled the scroll, holding it in front of her as she read aloud. The message was formal and almost identical to the one Gurnak had delivered to another group of ratmen, though the key difference now was the lack of any bargaining power on their end. They were cornered, vulnerable, and had lost the ability to negotiate for their survival.

The room fell into a heavy silence. The ratmen stood motionless, the weight of the words pressing down on them like a lead blanket. It wasn’t just the threat of invasion that terrified them, though that alone was enough to make their hearts race. The concept of demons—unknown, monstrous beings they had never encountered—added another layer of dread. But the worst part, the part that made Por’s stomach churn, was the Emperor’s “request” for them to take up arms. The ratmen, whose only advantage had been their technological advancements, were now being asked to fight back the demonic invaders on behalf of the Empire.

Por’s face, once determined and hopeful, was now blank. Her eyes had lost their spark, staring at the ground as despair filled her heart. She realized, painfully, that they had been manipulated from the start. Every choice, every decision, had led them to this moment. And she had been the one to deliver them—her people, her entire settlement—into the hands of the mages.

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