A cold flash of steel.
The rusted sword sliced clean through the rat’s neck. Before the giant rat could even let out a squeal, its head rolled to the ground.
Lorin grabbed the fur on the severed head, turned on his heel, and sprinted toward the thick patch of weeds.
This particular rat seemed to hold a special status. The several large rats that had escaped from the fence didn’t immediately chase after him; instead, they circled the headless corpse. One leaned in to sniff it, then raised its head and let out a long, piercing screech.
"SCREECH!—"
Lorin’s heart skipped a beat. He thought, "Did I kill their leader? Are they going into a Frenzy now...?"
With no time to overthink, he took advantage of the gap, plopped down in the tall weeds, and lifted his leg to check his injuries.
The two bloody holes bitten into his calf by the rat were still bleeding. He quickly focused his mind, activating the Ring of the Flame Speaker on his finger.
[Treating Light Injuries]
A warm, yellow glow spilled from his palm, covering the wound like soothing warm water. A numbing, itchy sensation followed. The bleeding quickly stopped, and the edges of the wound began to close together. Within a few breaths, the pain vanished, leaving only a faint, dull ache.
He figured he wouldn’t have time to use Treating Light Injuries later, so it was better to heal his calf now. It would allow him to move much more nimbly during the fight. Lorin then looked down at the rat head in his hand and used Fur Perception, hoping to glean some useful information.
[Rat fur. Male. Approximately five to ten years old. Fur well-maintained. Deceased.]
Damn it, absolutely useless!
He tossed the head aside and pushed himself up by his knees. Outside the weed patch, the pack of giant rats had finished their mourning and were now staring uniformly in his direction. The noses of the leading few twitched as they caught his scent, their eyes locking precisely onto his.
The rat pack instantly grew agitated.
Lorin continued running deeper into the weeds. The stalks scraped against his Leather Armor, letting out a series of CRACKING snaps. He needed to lure all these rats in and outrun them, ensuring the upcoming fire wouldn’t burn him as well.
The squeaking behind him drew closer. Lorin glanced back; the rat at the very front had already closed the distance to within a few dozen paces.
"Come on, you beasts!"
He cursed, picking up his pace even more.
Suddenly, the patch of weeds came to an end. Lorin’s foot found empty air, and he nearly tumbled to the ground. Ahead lay a trampled clearing encircled by a sparse grove of trees. Old Hunter was standing right in the middle of it. The old man held a clay pot in his hands, staring wide-eyed at Lorin. Hearing the rustling from the weeds, his hands trembled with anxiety.
"You actually came?" Lorin asked, pleasantly surprised.
He had only wanted to send the old man away so he wouldn’t be a burden. He hadn’t expected the man to actually return with the lamp oil.
"I... I went back to get something," Old Hunter stammered, lifting the clay pot. "Lamp oil! Didn’t you say you needed lamp oil? I brought it for you..."
Lorin took the pot and weighed it in his hands. It held at least five or six pounds of oil. A strip of cloth was stuffed into the spout, already soaked through with the liquid. Follow the newest chapters on novelping.com.
Trembling, Old Hunter pointed at the cloth strip and said, "My son wants to be an Adventurer, so I learned a little bit, figuring I’d teach him later."
"Beautifully done. Now step back! Get far back!"
Lorin grabbed the pot and yanked the stopper out. The pungent stench of oil rushed into his nose. He sprinted forward a few steps and hurled the contents forcefully at the edge of the weeds. The yellowish-black oil sprayed out in a wide arc over the dry grass, splashing onto the fastest of the giant rats.
Catching the pungent scent of the oil, the giant rat sensed something was wrong and tried to shrink back. But the swarm of rats behind it surged forward, shoving it onward.
"SQUEAK... SQUEAK, SQUEAK, SQUEAK..."
It thrashed about frantically, finally managing to squeeze its way out of the writhing pile, but it was already too late to escape.
"Feel the Flame, you beasts!"
Lorin raised his hand excitedly. A Flame burst to life from his palm, the firelight reflecting in his pupils.
[Lorin’s Burning Hand]
"Come on!"
He thrust his palm forward. The moment the dry grass made contact, it erupted into a blaze, the fire spreading rapidly and igniting the splashed oil.
"WHOOSH!—"
A ferocious wave of heat rushed at his face. Scorched by the flames, Lorin was forced to lean back, squinting against the blasting heat. Still, it felt so exhilarating! He absolutely loved this feeling of burning everything to ash with Flame.
The fire continued to spread forward. The giant rats that had just charged into the oiled zone had no time to react. The oil on their fur instantly caught fire.
"SQUEEEAK-SQUEAK-SQUEAK!—"
The few charging at the very front instantly turned into moving fireballs, their shrieks piercing enough to make one’s ears ache. They rolled around on the ground, trying to smother the flames, but surrounded by dry weeds, the fire only grew larger as they thrashed. A thick, foul stench of scorched flesh mixed with burning fur filled the air.
Only an occasional, luckier rat managed to escape the inferno, only to run headlong into the waiting Lorin, who promptly sent it packing with a single sword strike.
Lorin looked at its charred fur and felt a pang of regret. He remembered that the tailor shop bought animal pelts. These were likely unsellable now. What a massive loss.
Old Hunter timidly stepped up beside Lorin, staring blankly at the massive fire before asking in a hushed voice, "The fire... will these flames spread to my house?"
Lorin squinted into the distance. Old Hunter’s house was a two-story wooden cabin not far from the barn.
"No," he replied. "Dry grass only burns fiercely for a moment. With no other combustibles around, it will die down quickly."
Lorin raised his Longsword Rusted Throat once again and walked toward the fire.
"Sir, what are you doing!?" Old Hunter asked in confusion.
"Finishing them off."
Lorin bypassed the most intense flames, approaching the still-twitching giant rats from the flank. They lay scattered on the ground in various contorted postures. Some were still squeaking, while others were already charred like lumps of coal. But no matter how badly they were burned, it didn’t affect his finishing strikes.
For the ones burned to death, he gave them two stabs.
For the ones not quite dead, he gave them three.
He walked along the path, his movements calm and mechanical. By the time he returned to Old Hunter’s side, his trouser legs were covered in bloodstains and flying ash, and his Leather Armor had become somewhat discolored from the heat.
"Are... are they all dead?" Old Hunter swallowed hard.
"Pretty much."
Lorin exhaled softly, almost reminiscing about his past days of last-hitting minions in video games. He looked up at the fire and saw that it was exactly as he had predicted. The flames had flared up intensely, but died out just as quickly. Only the pools of lamp oil were left burning solitarily on the scorched earth.
There were also over twenty charred corpses lying on the ground, emitting wafts of a burnt, meaty aroma.
"Sir, you see how I finally helped you burn these beasts to death. Does that mean I can be considered an Adventurer, too?" Old Hunter scratched his head, smiling sheepishly.
"Haha, of course." Lorin chuckled. This old man was rather amusing. He bent down and began inspecting the corpses on the ground, wanting to see if there was anything of value left.
"Heh! Now I can finally brag to that brat..."
After rummaging for quite a while, Lorin couldn’t figure out what use these charred remains could possibly have. He could only sigh and stand back up.
"What a pity."
Then, he noticed that two arrows were protruding from Old Hunter’s gaunt body. The arrows formed a cross as they pierced straight through his chest. The fletching on the shafts trembled slightly in the passing wind.
Old Hunter stared blankly at the arrows in his chest. He raised his hand, trying to grab them, but he had no strength left. He slowly collapsed forward.
Only a single thought had time to flash through Lorin’s mind.
"Fuck, all that for nothing!"