There were creatures in the game that could be called Beastmen by the standards of other games, but they were instead called Werean instead. The sight of what would be called a Cat girl by anime and manga standards or a man with rabbit ears and a rabbit tail would be enough to call someone a Werean. What had been summoned to aid me was a true Beastman, and not a Werean. I had brought forth something more animal than human and truly monstrous in design, action and thought.

There were many different types of Beastmen, each with their own culture and behaviors. There were the Cloven, who were a mix of Goatmen, Minotaurs, Centaurs and other types. There were the Cainin, who took their look from wolves, foxes and other dogs. There were other types too, but the ones that were before us were the Rattan. Standing at least a meter tall and at most 1.3 meters tall, the Rattan were, as you might expect, Rat-men. There were other variations, such as the smaller Mice-men who were slave to the larger Rat-men, but both varieties of Rattan were known for being some of the cruelest beings you could ever face.

The A.I. of the game was adaptive, and the Rattan seemed to be programmed to take full advantage of this. It eventually became impossible for low-level players to deal with the Rattan, as they would take full advantage of their numbers and ability to learn by adapting and improvising new and cruel ways of dealing with The Races. Thankfully, they were confined to certain areas of the world by the game’s programming and were it not for that they likely would have taking over large parts of the game world. The Rattan were known for tormenting their victims, and some players quit the game after facing them. The only upside about facing them in the game world was that they were programmed to eventually kill their target after a set period of time.

And I had no idea if that was the case in this world.

Why am I going over this? It was quite simple. The 4th expansion to the game was called ‘Rise of the Under-Empire’ and revolved around the Rattan. One of the prelude events to the release of the expansion was the assassination of the King of Londarl by the hands... paws of the greatest Rattan assassin.

That assassin’s name was Skwiik Face-Stealer. And when the time came to face her, she was certainly a tough fight. Although, this was to be expected from a Mythic+ End Game Raid, one of five that made up the final battle against the highest ranked members of the Fiendish Five.

What Puke Princess assumed was me trying to demean myself to get out of death was I fact me calling out to the End Boss of the Mythic+ Raid called ‘The Verminous Assassanorum’.

As the hangman pulled the lever and I plummeted towards the ground, the rope snapped. Or rather, the rope was cut. Cleanly. Faster than anyone could see (including myself due to the sack over my head).

Then came the screams. My god, the screams. I could make out what was going on by the few bits of sensible dialogue I could hear in between the shrill screeching that banshee Puke Princess.

Skwiik was there, and likely had been ever since I called her out and she was taking names. Or rather, she was taking faces. I felt it was likely, based on the shrill cries of a certain bitch that after my noose had been severed, Puke Princess had been the first to be attacked by the force of nature I had set loose. She was likely missing her face, a pure guess based on Skwiik’s last name. The sounds of magical spells being shot in various directions and metal striking stone intermittent with the gut-wrenching noises of flesh being torn painted a grisly picture that was not in favor of the Human royalty and their accompanying guards.

Occasionally I would hear a Nacht Eagle cry out along with the horrible sound of skin being peeled from someone’s body, which was the tell-tale sign that Skwiik had just torn someone’s face off in one of the Raid’s most twisted attacks. Other times there would be a Nightcrawler-esque ‘BAMF’ sound followed by someone crying out their death-throes as the Rattan Assassin stabbed them in the heart with her twin daggers. But worst of all was the terrible, nails-on-a-chalkboard screams of the goddamn bitchy Puke Princess.

I eventually overheard the sounds of more guards rushing in to deal with the ‘Rat Bitch’ as they called her, only to be swiftly silenced. This cycle of guards entering and being cut down went on for about forty-odd minutes before there were either no more soldiers or they were too terrified to face the Kingslayer. Five more minutes passed and all through the past forty-five minutes I had been forced to endure the unending howls of a mad bitch. Finally, the ropes binding my hands were cut and the canvas sack was removed from me.

I turned around to see Skwiik herself, standing roughly 198 centimeters tall and dressed head to toe in tan leather clothes made from people’s faces, she had a look that seemed to say, “Praise me!” Behind her back she crossed her curved, serrated and poisoned daggers in her little paw-like hands.

It was strange. In the game, the Rattan weren’t this tall.

Or this busty.

Or this hot…

On her hip was a sack which seemed to ooze blood, likely filled with the faces of everyone she had taken them from. Notably, there was one face that was not in the sack, and it was the face that I assumed belonged to the screaming bitch that was writing in agony over behind me. Skwiik seemed especially proud of that trophy in particular, as she was wearing it like a mask on top of her own face, kept in place by small hooks attached to her headgear. Noticing my gaze on her new prize, she took the princess’ face off of hers and offered it to me, showing her face and her lustrous, soft, deep black fur in the process. She once again offered Puke Princess’ surgically removed face as a gift, but I politely refused.

I patted Skwiik on her head and motioned to her to follow me towards the entrance I had come through, but rather than do so she turned and went over to the Princess. It was then that I heard something that I never thought that I would.

Skwiik talked. And not in the scratchy, inhuman sound you might expect from a Rat-Man, but the sweet voice of a young and attractive woman, roughly somewhere in here late teens to early twenties although with a higher pitch overall and a barely noticeable rasp caused by her inhuman vocal chords and mouth

To players in the game, Skwiik and the rest of the Beastmen race made unintelligible animal noises. Even after taming them I never heard even the slightest word from any of my Tamed Beings, even the Human ones.

And yet…

“You shitty little bitch-thing! You tried to kill my master-husband, but now you-you are at his-our mercy! You were cruel-evil to him, and now we leave you in pain-agony! Screech-cry all you want, bitch-thing, for no man-thing can save-rescue you from my poison! You will curse your choice-decision with every breath-gasp you take-take!”

Skwiik then kicked the shrieking banshee and strutted like a runway model over to me and almost took my hand in hers but turned around and ran over to the wailing wench and gave her a few more kicks.

“Skank-Slut! Bitch-Whore!” She kicked the writhing mass of tears, meat and now-soiled finery a few more times while screaming Rattan obscenities at Puke Princess before stopping eventually and running over to me. Grabbing my hand again, tugged me over to a sewer-lid and opened it with ease, motioning for me to enter first.

Wait… There was something off about how she addressed me before but I couldn't put my finger on it.

“Master-husband! Hurry! Let us go-move from this place. More man-things will be coming soon-soon.”

Wait…. Master-Husband… What the….?