Blood splattered all over the wall as Dallion did another triple spin slash. Whoever said that fighting rats was difficult had vastly underestimated the reality of the situation. A dozen rats or slightly more weren’t an issue, yet it soon became obvious that rats didn’t travel in dozens—they moved about in swarms. And these were not mere rats that one would find in the less fortunate districts of towns and cities; each of these specimens was the size of dogs, with five-inch teeth and claws.

They’re leaking through, Gleam said.

The familiar and Ruby were doing a good job protecting Dallion’s back from a second flow of rats that were trying to swarm him. While killing the creatures was no issue for them, however, killing all of them was. Already a small trickle of rats was making it through, charging at Dallion from behind.

Damn it! Dallion thought.

There was a mind working against him. This was different from fighting ordinary creatures—common creatures had a sense of self-preservation, no matter how small. The elements of this swarm viewed themselves as replicable; their only goal was to slowly grind their enemy down to the point that he couldn’t fight back.

Dallion had heard talk of such creatures from fellow hunters. According to the stories, swarm entities hid among some of the ruins. Most often, those would be creatures with the ability to control any pack of smaller creatures in the local vicinity—insects, rats, frogs, snakes—and use them as a sword and shield when fighting far stronger enemies. In this case, though, things seemed different. The swarm adapted to Dallion’s tactics on the spot. Not only that, but he failed to notice any communication between them, just the same blobs of emotion within all the creatures, as if they were one organism.

Thrusting forward, Dallion did a multi-attack. Dozens of rats died every second, as he moved so fast, creating the impression he had three additional arms. Sadly, that wasn’t enough to stop the flow.

Don’t, Nil said, suspecting what Dallion might resort to.

I don’t have a choice. Dallion concentrated, then did a point attack forward.

A wave of destruction flew through the tunnel, causing rats to explode by the hundreds. Loud squeaks filled the air. Moments later, the second flow turned around and fled, disappearing into the tunnel. With this momentary calm, Dallion could finally take a breather.

“Lux, Gleam, keep watching,” he said as he sat on the ancient tracks. “There might come for another go.”

Point attacks and flimsy tunnels don’t mix. Nil sighed. I thought you’d learned that much after the wyvern encounter.

“There’s no one here but me.” Dallion closed his eyes for a moment. “The tunnels will hold. Trust me.”

Because nothing can go wrong in a place where cutlings and other Star-spawn roam.

“The Star wants me to reach the phoenix. He’ll keep his critters in check.”

To a certain degree, that was the reason Dallion had decided to push on towards the mountain rather than turn back. There was no way to know whether he had made the right choice or not, but he wanted to believe in Arthurow’s self-serving nature.

Clearing his throat, Dallion lay down on the tracks. It was outright impressive how they had managed to survive for so long. There were moments in which he could almost forget he was in another world, but rather stuck in an abandoned subway back on Earth. All that was missing was a train cart. After his point attack, there was no chance of coming across that anytime soon. Even if one had managed to survive all this time, it was blasted to splinters now.

What a waste, Onda muttered. Do you know what these lines are made of?

“Tracks,” Dallion corrected. “And yes, I do.”

There’s so many things you can do with just a bit of them. Can’t you cut off some for back home?

As amusing as it was to entertain the notion, Dallion preferred not to take as little from the south as possible. The entire rails were made of a sky steel, making them virtually indestructible. Whoever had made the subway wanted to make it last forever. Ironically, it was that desire that had likely brought to the destruction of the kingdom and the people in it. At the moment, though, Dallion’s main concern lay elsewhere.

From what he could remember from the map in the dream, the tunnel continued for several miles before moving beyond the current cluster of ruins. There was no way he could go that far when having to constantly deal with rat swarms. And while Dallion wasn’t willing to admit it openly, point attacks weren’t a solution. Not that Dallion feared that they might cause the tunnel to collapse. Rather, he feared they were more likely to attract more creatures to him.

“Gleam, did you see where the rats ran off to?”

Not particularly. Why?

“We’ll need to kill the creature controlling them.” Dallion stood up. Then played another chord with his harpsisword. No creatures appeared. Apparently, he was going to do this the hard way.

Adjusting his backpack, Dallion continued forward. After a few hundred feet, a faint light became visible in the distance. It was too whitish-blue to be sunlight, leading Dallion to believe that it was a remnant of the past as well. Soon enough, he found that he was right.

An entire platform became visible in the tunnel. In the distant past, it must have been a train stop. People would rush from the building above to the train and vice-verse. It was outright impressive how long the magic crystals had managed to survive. The devastation above ground had done little to affect anything here to the point that even the station sign was fully legible, written in glowing green letters: Dragon Mound.

Careful, Gleam said. There’re more rats here.

Dallion nodded. He had spotted the rat excrements on the left side of the station. Most were piled at the base of a staircase leading up into the ruins. Under different circumstances, Dallion would have considered that a trap or a false lead. There was no reason for the rats to do that, though. Even if the swarm entity was smart enough to resort to such trickery, there was no way it could expect a person to enter the tunnels after thousands of years. The pile was there because large quantities of rats had frequently stayed there at some point.

“Good, because that’s where we’re going.”

Bursting into a hundred instances, Dallion swarmed the section of the station, exploring every part of it. On several occasions, he came across small groups of rats—injured survivors of his recent attack. None of them proved useful or dangerous, which was why Dallion ignored them, focusing on other instances of his.

The station level explored, Dallion went up the stairs. Both the whip blade and dartblade were floating in the immediate vicinity ready to protect him from any potential attack. Such attacks didn’t materialize, but the further Dallion went, the closer he got to the heart of the rat swarm. Piles of droppings became more frequent, as did creature remains scattered on the floor. Initially, they were small—bones of animals unfortunate enough to venture into the swarm’s domain. After a while, Dallion came across something that he couldn’t have expected. Grouped in a corner of a room were half a dozen human skeletons.

What the heck? Dallion thought.

Skeletons were a generous description. A large part of the skeletal remains had been torn off and dragged away elsewhere in the ruins. However, there were just enough bones surrounded by ragged clothes to show beyond doubt that the occupants of the room had been human. Most likely they had been here when the calamity had taken place. Alive, yet unable to escape, they had probably found their death here due to starvation. Not the most pleasant way to go. Dallion could only hope that they weren’t devoured by animals in their final moments.

Still maintaining three dozen of instances, Dallion searched through the remains. If they ever had anything of value, it had long been taken and dragged to some spot in the south. It was possible that it lay hidden in the pile of shinies collected by the gulls. Numerous teeth marks covered the bones, all of them made centuries after their demise.

Spending barely a few minutes in the room, Dallion pushed on. He could feel he was close. The air was buzzing with emotions: fear, aggression, desperation. Like an invisible trail, they led on.

Gleam, Lux, let’s make this quick, Dallion thought, moving forward with two dozen instances. The focus is on the creature. If we kill that, the rats will scatter. Just be sure—

A wave of rats poured in, filling rooms and corridors. It wasn’t only Dallion’s front instances that were affected, but all of them. The swarm had attacked from all sides, crashing into him with the force and fury of a waterfall.

Immediately, Dallion saw his mistake. All this time he had assumed the rats to be simple creatures incapable of countering his combat splitting. That could well be the case, but the entity behind the rats was awakened. It had probably been aware of what Dallion was doing since the moment he left the tracks and ventured into its domain.

Spinning with his harpsisword, Dallion let out a series of slashes as he jumped up into the air. Using his acrobatic skills to evade the main attack, he leapt from wall to wall, while the whip blade extended in order to deal as much damage as possible. Blood filled the room like rain, though even that wasn’t enough to think about the swarm substantially.

Think, Dallion told himself, assessing the situation.

Using his scholar skills he thought back, following the flow of the rats. All of them had surrounded his instances at roughly the same time, suggesting that the nest had to be in one of two places: either directly below or directly above.

Gleam, Lux, Ruby, break the floor! Dallion ordered.

That left him to deal with the ceiling. Since this wasn’t a realm, he didn’t have the time of freedom to draw his Nox dagger. Instead, he was going to use the weapon he already held.

Concentrating, Dallion combined music and attack skills. His left hand slid along the strings of the harpsisword as he struck the ceiling; this time the target of the music effects was the weapon itself. The entire blade of the harpsisword vibrated with such speed, causing it to blur. The last time Dallion had seen that happen, it was Harp who had created the effect.

Was this what you were trying to teach me? he asked.

The tip of the blade pierced the concrete like soft toffee. The pressure was so light that Dallion wasn’t sure he had even struck the ceiling, despite seeing it happen with his own eyes. Cracks formed, though they were different from those of a crackling, causing the ceiling to bleed dust as it disintegrated.

The job done, Dallion pulled out the harpsisword, using it to propel himself in the direction of the most distant wall. Barely had he done so that the entire ceiling fell apart, collapsing over the rats. However, that wasn’t the only thing that happened. Following the ceiling fragments, streams of new rats poured down like a waterfall, filling the already crowded space.

I was right, Dallion thought.

A grotesque creature composed of six massive rats merged into one let out a blood freezing squeak as it too fell to the floor. Each of the rats composing it had the back of their spines emerge through skin and fur, linking together in a giant knot of bone.

A rat king, Dallion gasped. He remembered hearing stories about them back on Earth. The creatures were said to have exponentially higher intelligence than the common rat, as well as the ability to control swarms of rats with its pseudo psychic powers. Now Dallion saw that the monstrosity wasn’t a myth. The only thing that remained was for him to kill it.