Their speed in the narrow corridor was pathetic compared to the swarm behind them. The black tide of rats closed the gap, inch by inch, until the truth hit Merek like a hammer, if they kept running like this, this passage might become their grave.
His steps slowed. Then he stopped.
"We can't keep this up."
Hearing him, Professor David skidded to a halt. Merek met his gaze, firm and steady.
"Find a way out. I'll hold them back."
"W-What?" David's pupils trembled. Gasps rippled through the group, everyone except those who saw this as a convenient escape.
"Are you stupid? You'll die!" Felicity snapped, her voice icy.
Tevin stared at him, wide-eyed. "You're kidding, right?"
Merek looked at them, baffled. Why were they staring at him like he was some noble hero about to sacrifice himself for the greater good?
He wasn't. He was just a guy torn from a frustrating but otherwise peaceful life, and he wanted—desperately—to survive this apocalypse.
And right behind him... was his only chance.
"I don't plan to die. Just find an exit before I get too tired."
With that, he turned to face the encroaching black wave.
As the others retreated, Tevin and Professor David hesitated, eyes fixed on his back.
"Heh, that moron's dead," Fred sneered, sprinting ahead of the group.
Merek gave them one last glance as they turned a corner and vanished. His lips curled into a smirk, eyes glowing with intensity.
"I have a debt," he whispered.
And then they came.
The rats burst forth like a flood—but Yuki moved first. Seventy-five kilograms of steel tore into the swarm like a runaway motorcycle. Her sword flashed—a single arc—and three rats were cleaved clean, mists erupting from their bodies and seeping into her armored shell.
[Your wraith has risen to Level 11!]
The Vulture-armoured undead loomed behind her, their towering forms forged from iron and dread. Each of their movements carried the full weight of their 115-kilogram frames, lending a terrifying momentum to every swing of their double-bladed swords.
Occasionally, with rusted chains clinking, they would snatch up a dire rat mid-lunge, wrapping it tight—only to hurl it like a flail into its kin, breaking bones and scattering vermin in a spray of blood and shrieks.
[Your Vulture Wraith minions have both risen to Level 7!]
The massacre raged on. The rats' claws scraped helplessly against steel; their fangs couldn't pierce the unyielding armor of the undead. They had no blood, no nerves, no fatigue, only relentless destruction.
Like harbingers of death, the three armored wraiths moved with brutal efficiency. Every swing took lives. Every step was ruin.
Suddenly, two rats broke through the barricade, darting straight for Merek, but before they could reach him, black chains lashed out like vipers. They wrapped around the rodents' necks and yanked them back. A moment later, two steel blades impaled them midair.
[Your Vulture Wraith minions have both risen to Level 8!]
[Your Wraith has risen to Level 12!]
Then, one managed to slip past. A single dire rat darted through the chaos, lunging at Merek—but froze inches from his face.
With a mere thought, Merek lifted it off the ground. The rat hung in the air, twitching. His gaze narrowed as he noticed the rotting patch on its flank—blackened, bubbling. One of the Vultures had grazed it.
He clenched his fist. A sharp crack echoed as the rat's neck twisted unnaturally.
Three more burst through.
Merek stepped back, raising his hand—and with a flick of his will, slammed them all against the nearest wall. The crunch of bones was deafening.
But his eyes widened. His undead were now nearly submerged beneath an avalanche of rats, their forms barely visible beneath the writhing mass.
Without hesitation, Merek channeled his energy and unleashed a powerful wave of telekinesis. Scores of rats were flung off Yuki, exposing her silver blade just as it erupted into motion. She spun with frightening speed, a flurry of silver arcs dancing around her. In two seconds, a dozen rats lay split in halves.
At the same moment, Merek cleared the Vultures of their swarm. The tide of vermin, once pressing against their armored forms, split and slammed against the walls with bone-jarring force. The undead rose again—unbound and burning with fury.
The white orbs in their helmets blazed like twin infernos.
With renewed freedom, the Vultures surged forth. Their chained, double bladed swords carved through the battlefield like reaping scythes—ripping through flesh, tearing limbs, decapitating heads. The air grew thick with stench of blood.
Meanwhile, Merek found himself surrounded.
The first rat lunged. He met it with a brutal punch, sending it flying into the wall with a sickening thud. Another came from his left—three, no, four. He shoved his palm forward, slamming them back with his telekinesis.
From the corner of his right eye, he caught a movement.
He turned, twisted at the waist, and drove his heel into the side of a rat's skull. Its head spun completely around, body falling limp. His power was growing. With every level, his strength surpassed human limits. A single blow from him now could shatter bones.
Sliding one foot back, he lifted both arms. Six rats suddenly lifted off the ground, legs flailing wildly, squealing. A moment later, he hurled them with enough force to embed their broken bodies deep into the concrete walls.
Then… dizziness.
His breath caught. The edges of his vision darkened.
His energy, mire, was nearly drained.
Creases formed on his brow. He had no idea that what he had just done—sustaining a high-potential skill with such finesse and duration—was virtually unheard of at his level. If he knew the truth, that his hidden title had nearly tripled his energy reserves beyond what others could imagine, his face might have worn a different expression.
Splash!
Water sprayed against the concrete. A stench hit his nose—wet fur, decay. A rat—larger than the rest—was right in front of him. Its claws slashed through the air, an inch from his chest.
Merek's heart pounded like a war drum.
He staggered back three steps, drew his revolver, and fired. The rat's skull exploded in a red mist. But pain bloomed across his torso.
He looked down.
A long gash had been torn through his white sweatshirt. Crimson seeped through, staining the fabric. The agony hit him then—sharp and deep, like fire gnawing into muscle.
Merek snarled and grit his teeth, pain painting his face in a grimace.
Then he saw her—Yuki—and the two towering Vultures beside her. The battle was over. Around them lay the bodies of over two hundred rats.
The trio had already begun harvesting.
Merek leaned against Yuki as she approached, sweat glistening on his forehead. His breath came ragged. She handed him the essence cores, and without pause, he began to consume them—swallowing them like bitter pills.
[You have consumed a Level 3 Dire Rat essence core!]
[You have consumed a Level 5 Dire Rat essence core!]
[You have consumed a Level 2 Dire Rat essence core!]
[You have consumed a Level 6…]
On and on, until he had devoured a hundred and fifty.
Then—he felt it.
A surge erupted within his soul. It was like a geyser had been uncorked inside him, rushing, flooding and empowering every corner of his being.
[You have risen to Level 10!]
[You have risen to Level 11!]
[You have risen to Level 12!]