Chapter 538
As for the battling ratmen and Bolthrower, they knew nothing of the dramatic events unfolding across the Empire. Their world remained the visceral, blood-soaked chaos of the front lines. A new nightmare, however, was about to unfold. The armor, designed to be so helpful, was proving too effective. Casualties among the ratmen were significantly lower than usual, an unforeseen consequence of the rogue intervention.
The sudden appearance of the Ogres had taken them by surprise. There was no strategic reason for the imposing warriors to descend at this moment; the Abyss had not yet pushed its higher-tier demons to the forefront. But nonetheless, seeing the Ogre Knights cleave through the swarms of lower-tier demons, momentarily clearing a path and giving the exhausted ratmen a brief moment of respite, was a welcome, if baffling, sight.
It was in this brief lull that the Abyss responded, a guttural roar from the depths signaling the shift. Higher-tier demons began to surge forward, their monstrous forms eclipsing the lesser fiends. The Ogre Knights, true to their unexpected role, briefly engaged these new, more formidable threats, their runic armor glowing as they clashed with ancient horrors.
"Briefly" was the key word here. After only a few minutes, the Ogre Knights began to fall back, their retreat disciplined but swift. The massive ship that had brought them descended lower, almost inviting attack, and the higher-tier demons, sensing an easier target, redirected their assault towards it. In response, the Ogre Knights seemed to have a perfect, undeniable reason to pull away, which they did. And just like that, the ratmen were left to face the newly unleashed nightmare of the higher-tier demons, alone once more.
The gnawing terror that had briefly subsided with the Ogre Knights’ intervention now returned with a vengeance, colder and sharper than before. Even with their miraculously improved and powerful new armor and weapons, the ratmen quickly learned the terrifying limits of their newfound strength. The early third-tier demons, were the absolute apex of what they could consistently handle.
Against anything beyond that, anything truly higher on the abyssal hierarchy, it was no longer a fight to win, but a brutal, agonizing struggle merely to stay alive. A fourth-tier demon could sweep aside a dozen armored ratmen with a single, contemptuous gesture, their enhanced weapons sparking impotently against its infernal hide.
The mana-charged blades that had scythed through lesser fiends now merely scratched the surface, or were parried with casual ease by claws that dwarfed their wielders. The ratmen found themselves dodging, weaving, and desperately sacrificing their brethren to buy precious seconds, their new armor providing only a thin veneer of protection against overwhelming power.
The illusion of invincibility, fleeting as it was, had shattered, replaced by the grim reality that even with their miraculous gifts, they were still just ratmen facing an enemy of cosmic, terrifying scale.
The earlier surprise intervention of the Ogre Knights now felt like a cruel jest, their retreat leaving the ratmen to face an unleashed horror. Hours bled into one another, a relentless, grinding struggle against overwhelming odds, until the first shadows of night began to stretch across the ravaged land.