Faust stepped into the chamber, his feet sinking into fluffy dark sand. At that exact moment, an invisible pressure weighed on his body, and visions began flashing before his eyes. Even if he closed them, he could still see. It was as if he were watching a play.
Then, he saw it.
A middle aged man stood among ancient ruins, surrounded by lush green trees under a clear sky. While exploring the site, he stumbled upon a hidden chamber. There, he found a lamp-like artifact… hauntingly beautiful.
Its form was composed of two distinct parts: the upper portion, a square forged from dark blue metal; and the lower section, supported by delicate, thin vertices.
The central area was hollow, but crisscrossed with narrow bars connecting the top and bottom, resembling a miniature cage, as if imprisoning the miasma within.
From inside the artifact, where light would normally shine in a normal lamp, a faint stream of dark miasma flowed, it was so subtle it was barely visible. Yet the man smiled.
He laughed hysterically as he grabbed it. "Hahaha! An artifact! How can my luck be this good?" His voice was filled with joy, bordering on madness.
The scene shifted.
The man now sat in a dark, unlit house, shadows cloaking the interior. Sitting at a table, he examined the artifact.
"A summoning artifact… and it's at least B-tier. Might even reach A-tier. Hahaha! This is impressive. I need to understand it better."
He began testing it. As he extended his hand, black miasma poured out, shaping itself on the ground—two rats formed, made from a shifting blend of shadow and dark smoke, with small blue glints on their shifting bodies.
"Amazing! Amazing! I shall name it Plague Bringer... It fits perfectly!" he exclaimed, eyes fixed on the creatures. Their bodies were small, normal rat-sized, but made of black, smoky substance, speckled with tiny dark blue glints as if stars were embedded within them.
Months passed.
The man grew proficient in controlling the miasma, injecting his will into the artifact with greater precision. Soon, he could summon dozens of rats.
One night, in a forested village, he released them.
The rats rampaged through the settlement. Every unfortunate soul they encountered was devoured completely alongside their clothes, leaving behind only bones. With each death, their numbers grew. Hundreds followed.
Day broke.
The man held a wanted poster bearing his face and a name: Old Rat Prince. A bounty of seventy-five gold coins was offered for his capture. The paper declared him a human with demonic alignment. His crimes ranged from murder to the mass slaughter of entire villages.
He fed entire communities to his rats and eventually, their numbers swelled into the thousands.
As stronger enemies challenged him, his army exceeded ten thousand, swarming and devouring all in their path. Each time a rat killed, a pale, white, mist-like essence rose from the corpse and flowed into the lamp, feeding the swarm.
Meanwhile, Faust walked through the miasma, heading toward its source as more visions poured into his mind. The pressure intensified, yet he was thoroughly fascinated. What he witnessed was domination, a man far stronger than him, who trampled and killed at will.
Others might see it as immoral or cruel, but Faust found it quite inspiring. A person who acted freely, unbound by others. Someone who did as they pleased and lived for themselves, even if they were cursed and hunted for it, they could not be stopped.
But more than that, this meant there exists even higher walls he has to cross before reaching his goal.
Then he saw more.
Surrounded by enemies, bleeding and exhausted, the man used the sheer force of his rodent army to break free and escape. He reached a forest where hundreds stood in line, awaiting entry into a portal.
"The dungeon!" he shouted, shoving his way forward and vanishing into the portal.
The crowd stared in disbelief. Some tried to follow, but he was too fast. His pursuers chased him in and most died within.
He appeared atop a mountain, where a large camp had been built around its base. Despite the size, it was mostly empty, the adventurers were exploring other areas.
Still, he killed.
He carved his way out of the camp and reached the plains, the very same where Faust had been not long ago. There, his pursuers struck without pause.
For three months, he fought nonstop as old rats perishing and new ones born in an endless cycle. From his hands, he shot some mana balls, causing huge explosions left and right.
Then the sky turned black.
Gray spirals twisted down from above, and floating white castles descended from the heavens. A fog cocoon enveloped him, and all the rats dissolved back into dark miasma, returning to the lamp. A few of his pursuers also crossed into the trials.
Before the voice could announce the goal, the man stormed through the first trial, his rats killing half the challengers in seconds, finishing the trial.
He breezed through the second trial, hoarding over twenty fruits. He conquered the third alone, though not without effort.
The fourth trial was a bridge-crossing under attack, he passed through effortlessly. The fifth and sixth were simple. His rats devoured Slashers with ease, leaving behind only their hardened carapaces. From them, just a faint trace of white essence flowed into the lamp, barely enough to expand the swarm.
Then came the seventh trial: "Unravel the mysteries of the Grand Desert City."
Crossing the desert, he was soon swallowed by darkness as pitch black sand-mist clouded his vision. Small, gargoyle-like creatures attacked him, but he destroyed them without needing to move much.
Eventually, he reached a crumbling city built from dark sandstone. Its inhabitants were frail and starving, but that didn't change anything. The Old Rat Prince ravaged them, feeding his swarm and growing its numbers.
Inside a shattered temple, beneath the broken statues of gods, he searched tirelessly. After hours, he pried loose a displaced brick from the floor. Hidden beneath it was a key made out of bronze, it looked ancient as it had engravings on it.
"Finally… I just need to find it now, and then I will be truly unstoppable. So close…"
Days later, a group of over fifty people surrounded him.
Among them, a young man stood at the center of attention. His long white hair nearly touched the ground, cut at the sides by his pair of pointy ears. His tall, pale frame contrasted sharply with his deep green eyes and noble attire, that made him look like a royal family member.
The old man attacked, and though he managed to kill several of them, the youth touched the ground and from it, intertwined wooden spikes rose. He stood still, radiating a heroic aura as his attacks pierced the Old Rat Prince's abdomen.
The Old Rat Prince fled, wounded. Chased through the desert, he hurled himself into one of the massive whirlpools, covering his whole body with mana, as if he knew that way they wouldn't kill him.
Inside the underground, he grabbed the bronze key and swallowed it.
His pursuers leapt in after him. But none perished to the whirpool, thanks to the young man, who once again touched the ground and made a golden tree to sprout, sending waves of gold energy that healed their wounds. The pursuers scattered, searching more efficiently.
One by one, they were ambushed and killed by the old man—until the white-haired youth found him again and forced another retreat.
The chase dragged on for days until they reached a vast open area, where colossal sand pillars stood like hourglass-shaped monoliths.
The final battle began. The Old Rat Prince held the upper hand against dozens of attackers—until the young man acted.
As he touched the ground, lively roots grew impossibly from the sand and reached the Old Rat Prince. They wrapped around his legs and dragged him down. Though he tried to free himself and continued to kill more enemies, the roots only tightened.
Eventually, the youth increased the pressure and severed the Old Rat Prince's leg, forcing him to collapse against one of the pillars. Still, he commanded his rats to fight while he shot mana from his hands.
Three of the young man's companions charged and nearly killed the old man, but he used his remaining rats to engulf them. Their screams echoed briefly before only bones were left behind.
The young man roared in anguish. With a wave of golden energy, he annihilated the remaining rats, then stepped forward.
He stood before the Old Rat Prince, who was bloodied and broken.
"Despicable demon... you took countless lives for personal gain. That is unforgivable, I shall be the one that will be ending your life here."
His voice trembled with fury and bitterness.
The Old Rat Prince coughed blood and laughed weakly.
"You say that because I lived in a way you don't agree with. Who are you to judge what's forgivable?" His voice held a strange mix of acceptance and sorrow, though a bloody smile lingered on his lips. "You're just a foolish kid, clinging to your so-called justice. You could afford to—supported by the gods, supported by your parents, your companions. Heh... though not by them anymore."
The young man's face darkened as he raised his foot, preparing to finish the dying old man.
"Even if I had lived your life," he said coldly, "I would never have chosen your path. Don't blame your actions on your circumstances, this is what truly is foolish."
The Old Rat Prince's grin widened, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he taunted him one last time.
"When you die, say that to your friends. Unlike you, I have nothing to regret. I lived for myself, not for othe—"
His words were severed as the young man's foot pierced into his chest, reaching the pillar behind him.
Blood spilled from his mouth and torso as the light in his eyes faded. He caught a final glimpse of the youth stomping the artifact into a destroyed state. Then the young man said,
"I wish to return."
A fog enveloped his body, taking him out of the trial.
The old man stood alone. He reached for the ruined artifact and injected it with all his remaining mana and will.
"… Survive…" He coughed blood, then continued, "I won't be able to fully repair you… but it will be enough… enough for you to resist a little more…"
His vision began to blur as he called upon the miasma one last time.
"Live… Plague Bringer… you helped me so much… thank you."
With his last strength, he shaped the remaining miasma into a few rats and commanded them to devour his body. As they tore through his flesh, their numbers began to multiply. It was something that had never happened when they fed on others, only when they killed them.
Through the haze of death, he saw the miasma swelling, enough for the artifact to escape the brink of destruction.
At that moment, Faust stopped seeing the Old Rat Prince's visions.
Although he was curious about how the old man managed to cause this visions, that didn't matter for now.
As he stood with sweat in his brows and a great pressure on his body, right in front of him lay the remnants of the Old Rat Prince's corpse.