Chapter 509
The mage’s face curled in distaste. "Take him away," he ordered coldly.
Then, turning to the knights, he lifted the tether of presence still wrapped around his finger. "The rest of you—come with me. We’re following this."
And with that, the hunt for Chief began.
As for Rattan, he remained in a daze—until the darkness gave way to a vast underground chamber. The moment his eyes adjusted, his breath caught in his throat.
Ratmen.
Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. All huddled in silence beneath the heavy gloom of flickering mana-lamps. Before he could process the sight, the ogre holding him gave a grunt and, with no care, hurled Rattan forward into the space like a sack of grain.
He hit the ground hard but scrambled to his feet almost immediately, the fear in his chest replaced by something close to elation. Ratmen—his own kind! After what Chief had told him of the Empire, he had expected cages, fire, experiments. But instead, he was surrounded by familiar faces. His tail twitched with excitement as he stepped forward, eager to speak, to connect.
Then he paused.
Something was wrong.
As he took a closer look, the flicker of joy drained from his face. The other ratmen... they weren’t talking. They weren’t doing anything at all. Their eyes were hollow, unfocused—like they’d seen something terrible and never come back from it. Each face was gaunt, each breath shallow. They sat still, backs slumped, as though waiting for something inevitable and dreadful.
Rattan’s steps slowed. A chill crept down his spine.