Chapter 620: A Nest of Snakes and Rats

The official website of "Natural Disaster OL," Forum Discussion Area.

Pigman Knight: "MMP, this isn't even a Gold-tier boss? I'd believe you if you said he's a demigod!"

Bullman Warrior: "Too reckless..."

Ye Zhiqiu: "Not quite a demigod, but probably Platinum or even Diamond-tier."

Hu Wan: "A single line separates them—like heaven and earth apart."

Four familiar IDs appeared simultaneously in the forum discussion area; a large crowd of curious players immediately flooded in.

Village Mouth Bald Master: "What's going on?"

Monk Daiyu: "Another air raid?"

Meichuan Qiuku: "Hahaha! Seeing Ye's brother lose money makes me happier than if I'd won it myself!"

Hu Wan: "Tsk."

Pigman Knight: "I hope you never get to eat four dishes in your whole life!"

Ye Zhiqiu: "Plot kill. No choice. But not a total loss—we got the quest reward and unlocked the new main storyline clue. Now we just wait to see how far the devs take it."

Gou Shi: "Win and it's EZ, lose and it's plot kill, right? (lol)"

Ye Zhiqiu: "Not contradictory. (side-eye smile)"

Can't Afford: "What exactly happened? Did you unlock another hidden quest? (curious)"

Ye Zhiqiu: "Short version: we found a ratman nest in the Spinoir Earldom, with what seemed to be a chaos altar. Triggered a boss fight... though maybe it wasn't a chaos altar at all—we found no chaos creatures or chaos gates, just some cut-up meat chunks."

Bullman Warrior: "A black mage's lab, a ratman slaughterhouse, or maybe a heretic shrine... anyway, deeply unnatural."

Ye Zhiqiu: "Yeah, the weirdest part: the corpses had no souls. We can rule out necromancy."

Pigman Knight: "But weirdly, their spell directly attacks SAN value... that's just creepy."

Long Xing Wanli: "What the hell is attacking SAN value?!"

Ye Zhiqiu: "Literal meaning—it strikes your soul, makes you feel cold sweat in real life, makes you want to disconnect... Has VR tech really gotten this advanced?"

Gou Shi: "No surprise from Natural Disaster Tech! (lol)"

Gotham Good Citizen: "Uh... so... you lost?"

Ye Zhiqiu: "We didn't win."

Gotham Good Citizen: "Damn! What's the difference?!"

Village Old Man: "Wait, didn't you just upgrade your gear? Didn't you just lose big?"

Ye Zhiqiu: "Not too bad. We only lost some common green gear—worth less than a million Ming coins. Just buy another set."

Knowledge Explosion: "Damn, how the hell are these bastards so rich? T. T"

Ye Zhiqiu: "No way. My Ming coins are pocket change compared to Long's. He owns one collectible that could buy ten of my accounts."

Long Xing Wanli: "Then sell it, bro!"

Ye Zhiqiu: "Find the game operator, get them to approve an account trade, and I'll retire immediately. Haha."

Long Xing Qianli: "Sigh... impossible to find them. No way."

Zheng Fangxing: "So where exactly is this ratman nest??"

Hu Wan: "Spinoir Earldom."

Zheng Fangxing: "I mean, more specific than that."

Hu Wan: "Corporate secret."

Swallowed the Chemical Pool: "%￥#@!"

Ye Zhiqiu: "Why rush? When the main storyline reaches you, the Demon King will send you himself. (side-eye smile)"

Deep within the Wàn Rèn Mountains, in a sunless underground cavern, the air reeked of nauseating blood and decay.

The ground wasn't stone—it was a thick carpet of decayed matter and fungal growth, crunching underfoot with a wet "squelch."

It looked like a nest of tentacles.

But there were no cute things here—only swarms of rats squeaking incessantly.

This nest was called the Predator's Nest.

Once, it had been the proud underground fortress of a dwarf earl; the stone pillars still bore intricate geometric carvings.

Now, those symbols of strength and honor were buried under filth, excrement, and graffiti.

Swarms of slave rats scurried through the lower levels, while the more respectable clan rats lived in the upper caverns.

At the very deepest chamber lay the "Flesh Throne" of the Soul-Shatterer, Mo Ke.

In the center of the cavern stood a massive platform built from bones and blackened meat chunks, atop which rested a huge stone chair.

The dwarf ancestor carved on the chair's back, eyes blazing in fury, was now crushed beneath a pile of greasy fat.

That was Mo Ke, leader of the Putrid Clan.

He sat slumped on the throne, devouring a giant leg of meat with no dignity.

The fat rat was enormous—a mountain of flesh—each chew sent waves of blubber rolling from his neck to his belly.

Below the throne, the rats stared at their leader in envy, swallowing saliva, grinding their teeth with a gritty squeak.

To Mo Ke, slave rats were both snacks and entertainment.

After finishing a leg, he'd toss the bone to the little ones, watch them fight and crush each other's skulls, then eat the half-dead ones clean.

This Flesh Throne was his palace, his kitchen, and his stage to show off his power to other rat warlords and nobles.

At that moment, hurried, panicked footsteps shattered the throne room's "feeding time."

A gray-furred rat scout tumbled in, tail clamped between his legs, trembling like a sieve from fear.

"Boss! Big trouble!"

The scout slid into a prostrate bow on the pile of corpses and bones, shrieking.

"We were attacked at the southern Bone-Burial Altar! A human thing got away!"

"What?!"

Mo Ke, mid-bite, was stunned—he bolted upright from the stone chair.

His layers of fat rippled violently, making the chair groan under the strain.

"Who dares attack my territory?! Send the Bone-Burial troops out—full force! I'll make them pay!"

Watching the rolling waves of grease, the rats around him swallowed harder, their tiny eyes gleaming with blasphemous green light.

The scout kept his head down, trembling as he continued.

"The attackers came from the Spinoir Earldom..."

The rippling fat froze. Mo Ke slumped back onto the chair, which groaned again under his weight.

"Spinoir Earldom..."

His claws scraped his greasy chin; his eyes darted in their sockets as doubt crept in.

Human things... these were hard to deal with.

Unlike the Dusk Province, where he'd scattered his Putrid Clan members into human lands under Celas's command,

Direct conflict with human rulers...

He had to weigh it carefully.

Especially since the Spinoir Earldom was backed by the Campbell family. He didn't read much human history, but he knew enough about his neighbor's past.

Just as the rat horde descended into chaos from their leader's outburst, a cold, calm voice cut through the noise from the shadows beside the hall.

"No need. I've already dealt with the problem."

Mo Ke's trembling fat instantly stilled. He whipped his head toward the voice.

A middle-aged human man in a deep gray mage's robe stepped slowly from the darkness.

His gray hair was neatly combed into a center part; he wore gold-rimmed spectacles, looking like a scholar in his study—utterly out of place in this filthy rat nest.

Edgar Kaufman.

That was his name; his title was Professor.

This mage from the distant northern academic realm was Mo Ke's honored guest—and the rats' nightmare.

With his arrival, the scattered rats froze like prey spotting a predator, emitting terrified whimpers and scrambling to the sides, clearing a wide path through the packed hall.

They would never forget what happened half a month ago.

A powerful rat baron, greedy enough to steal one of this human mage's magic stones, was executed on the spot.

Professor Edgar didn't lift a finger—just glanced at the fool. The baron, who had ruled his territory with cruelty, screamed as his bones and flesh were crushed by invisible hands, dissolving into ash with no soul residue.

Though rat barons were as common as dirt—any rat claiming a hill or tunnel called himself one—among their vast, pitiful population, he was still a "big shot."

If even a baron could be crushed like an ant, what chance did these common rats have?

Seeing Edgar emerge from the shadows, Mo Ke's terrified rat face instantly twisted into a sycophantic grin, his pea-sized eyes gleaming with flattery.

"Oh! Esteemed Professor Kaufman! You've already acted? How embarrassing—you've saved us another headache... haha, I mean, brilliant job!"

Edgar gave the fat rat king a cold glance, ignoring his praise. He adjusted his spectacles, expressionless.

"Two Gold-tier skeletons, two Silver-tier lizardmen—you've drawn a dangerous enemy... I don't understand, Mo Ke. Why attack the Campbell's railway? I warned you—if you need materials, the Kingdom of Lein has plenty."

At this rebuke, Mo Ke's smile vanished.

He ground his yellowed incisors in frustration, shifting his fat ass on the throne, then helplessly spread his short, stubby claws.

"I know, Professor. I don't want to anger the southerners... but my old friend in Lein asked me to move, so I had to move. I had no choice."

Edgar frowned slightly.

"Lein?"

"Yeah." Mo Ke nodded his rat-like head, mumbling irritably, "I'm not stupid—why would I go out of my way to provoke the Campbell people?"

Strictly speaking, the Rot Clan wasn't afraid to provoke the Campbell people—they were afraid to provoke any stable human kingdom.

After all, if they attacked a baron, they'd draw the count's wrath; provoke the count, and the duke would come; lose the fight, fine—but if they actually won, the Empire's warships would already be anchored in the nearby harbor.

Then, the dwarves in the Wanren Mountains would need new gear, humans would remember their alliance with the Dwarf Kingdom, and the Rot Clan would soon face catastrophe, fracturing into a dozen Dadaxiaoxiao clans.

Rats can't be exterminated, but Mo Ke's family would be finished—that was the unbearable pain of the Soul-Shatterer Mo Ke.

Rats are a very intelligent species.

Harassing caravans, adventurers, and unguarded farmers is one thing; actively attacking human kingdoms or principalities is another.

Especially the Saint Sis Sect—always strange. Just when you think you're winning, a chosen champion suddenly appears, like the "Stoneclad Saint" Gant Steingraber they'd encountered in the Dusk Province.

Seeing Edgar still seemed unconvinced, Mo Ke added another line to strengthen his argument.

"I heard not long ago, a foolish demon lord near Lei Ming City barely showed his face before being skewered by Duke Aron with a single spear. That demon lord's strength wasn't inferior to mine—he was a demon, thick-skinned and tough… even a beast like that died without a trace. My flesh isn't even enough to fill his teeth—why would I provoke them?"

Looking at the pitifully fat rat, Edgar fell silent for a moment, a flicker of thought passing through his eyes.

Though scholars of the Academy often seem naive, only true fools believe these supremely clever people are simpletons.

The real simpletons are hauling bricks in the Mage Towers; those sent to the Wanren Mountains to cooperate with rat clans aren't blind to the world.

Especially since his homeland was the Kingdom of Lein—he wasn't unfamiliar with Lein's political ecology.

Recalling the recent chaos in Luo Lan City, he guessed at least part of the King's intent: likely using the turmoil in Spinor County to irritate the Campbell Principality.

But this fool must've lost his mind—or maybe his left hand was fighting his right… Why use a glass cup to smash a dog?

Their soul experiments deep in the Wanren Mountains were the ultimate taboo—this research must never reach the ears of the Holy City, nor the demons of Hell.

Though ordinary people see demons of Hell and the Holy Light nobles as enemies, the Academy's clever ones aren't so naive.

"This idiot…"

Edgar muttered under his breath, eyes locked on the fat rat on the throne, squeezing out the rest from between his teeth.

"Did the King order this? Or his underlings?"

Mo Ke blurted out immediately.

"Maurus! It's Maurus, the head of the Gravekeepers! You know that man—he's the King's associate, our supplier!"

"I'll find him and get the full story."

Edgar turned, his gray robe slicing through the air in a cold arc, making the surrounding rats retreat several steps in fear.

"Also, tone it down. No matter what tasks Lein has given you, I won't tolerate further disruptions to my experiments. If you bring trouble here that shouldn't be here…"

He didn't finish, only cast a long, meaningful glance back at Mo Ke—his eyes looked at a corpse.

"You know the consequences."

Mo Ke's fat body trembled violently, his narrow eyes narrowing to slits. Though he glared back defiantly, fear slowly seeped into his hollow gaze.

The Empire could crush them. The Academy, when enraged, could too. A demigod couldn't wipe out the rats of Wanren Mountains—but wiping out this fat rat? Easily.

For this rat hiding deep in the mountains, offending one while satisfying another was a question demanding his life to answer.

Watching Edgar's figure vanish completely into the shadows, Mo Ke finally exhaled deeply, wiping the oily sweat from his brow with a claw.

Whispered, anxious murmurs spread around the throne.

High Priest Skar stepped silently from behind the throne's shadow, watching the sweating monarch, speaking in a hoarse, soft voice.

"These human things are such a nuisance… can't kill them, can't ignore them—can't they finish fighting their own brains before coming to us?"

"By Lord Gello! Now it's not just human things—where did the skeleton things and lizard things come from? Has the Dragon God returned? Or with the Death God? Damn it, this is… an abomination!"

Mo Ke spat a chunk of meat-laced saliva onto the ground, then snatched up the uneaten meat leg and tore into it like a fury.

High Priest Skar gave the monarch a gentle glance.

"Your Majesty, let's not worry about skeletons and lizard folk for now… what do we do about Burial Peak? The counts and barons there are waiting for orders from the Royal Court. If we don't act soon, they'll start fighting each other."

Mo Ke's small eyes darted.

"Remove our altar. Give the counts of Burial Peak a flag! From today, they're independent!"

Skar stared at the monarch in surprise, then bowed respectfully.

"A good idea… but what about the escaped sacrifice? He came from the altar—I fear he knows something, and will spread what he saw."

Mo Ke's expression flickered uncertainly; after prolonged hesitation, he gave the order.

"Send my Plague Fang assassins!"

Skar bowed respectfully.

"Yes."

…

Generally, a sacrifice placed on the altar couldn't escape—but rats are always clumsy, and one or two always slip through.

Previously, the altars were in northern caves; escapees couldn't get far. But now, with sacrifice numbers exploding and the Dwarf Kingdom stirring trouble, a little nobody made it all the way south.

The damned human was still alive—that became a problem.

The summer night, thick as a heavy curtain, draped over the rolling hills and endless forests of Spinor County.

A steel dragon, spewing white steam, raced along the newly laid tracks of the Campbell Principality, wheels clacking rhythmically over rail joints.

Inside the luxurious royal carriage, warm magical lamps dispelled the darkness.

Elin sat on a velvet-upholstered armchair.

Yet her gaze never fixed on the book in her hands; she kept glancing out the pitch-black window, her emerald eyes clouded with faint sorrow.

"Don't worry."

Seeing Elin's anxiety, Luo Yan gently set down his teacup and joked in a casual tone.

"Even if the rats are threatening, can they be worse than the demon lord of Lei Ming Prefecture?"

"…Even so, I still can't relax."

Pulling her gaze from the window, Elin looked at Colin across from her. After a pause, she spoke softly.

"Rats used to harass our borders, but only as scattered bandits—strike and flee. Now, their claws have penetrated deep into the northern border of Spinor County, even reaching near Crow Frost City. This organized infiltration is abnormal—I fear something far worse lies behind it."

Campbell has a proverb: a dagger hidden in shadow terrifies more than a sword held in plain sight.

Especially since Elin knew well.

Desire and ambition, like moss in a sewer, if not eradicated at once, grow wildly under neglect.

And humans have no contact with rats—no one knows what those filthy creatures are plotting.

"…So we're going to deal with this problem now, aren't we?"

Watching Elin still lost in worry, Luo Yan comforted her gently, lifting a finger slightly on the table.

The delicate silver milk pitcher on the table rose as if lifted by an invisible hand, gliding to Elin's side and filling a cup with steaming, fragrant brew.

"This is cocoa from Jiana Continent—mixed with milk, it turns simple sweetness into rich, layered depth."

"Thank you."

Elin cupped the warm porcelain cup; the heat spread through her fingertips. She felt hungry—this slightly bitter, sweetly lingering drink suited her perfectly.

After finishing the hot cocoa, Elin's pale face gained a faint flush, her tense nerves easing slightly.

Setting the cup down, she spoke again, voice heavy with confusion.

"Colin, there's something I don't understand. It's still early summer—harvest is far off, food in the mountains hasn't run low. Why would the rats of Wanren Mountains emerge now?"

For both sides, this didn't seem a good time.

Luo Yan sipped his black tea.

"Perhaps because the Northern Relief Army just withdrew from Dusk Province—someone thinks Campbell Principality is too idle, and wants to give you something to do."

"Clang."

The silver spoon tapped the cup's rim with a sharp sound.

Elin stared at him in shock, then her eyes darkened slightly; her finger tightened unconsciously around the cup handle.

"You mean… the mastermind is the Kingdom of Lein?"

Luo Yan spoke calmly.

"I don't know. But I don't think it matters to guess—or even to care."

Real-world Boyi isn't like chess, where players respond move by move. Players often play their own games, only revealing the outcome at the end.

Sometimes, there's no winner at all.

As a demon lord, Luo Yan didn't care whether the Kingdom of Lein had conspired with the rats of Wanren Mountains.

If they had, he'd deal with them together. If not, he'd dust off some First Era grudges.

Actually, even this step was unnecessary—humans and rats had no shared interests. He was building a railway to the gates of Gaoshan Kingdom; the rat nests in the way would be crushed by default.

The only thing that intrigued him was the thing hidden deep in the cave—its agents had wiped out his reconnaissance squad.

Two Gold-rank undead, two Silver-rank Dianfeng lizardmen.

Under normal circumstances, that team could have slaughtered through that entire map—yet they left not even a ripple.

The demon lord had kicked a steel plate.

Time to put some real force behind the kick.

At that moment, two light, rhythmic knocks came from outside the carriage.

"Come in," Luo Yan said.

The door opened; Sara entered, wrapped in a travel cloak. She stood by the door, bowing slightly, her amber vertical pupils gleaming with the light of a hunter spotting prey.

"Your Highness, there's a business matter requiring your decision."

It was their code—meaning important intelligence, unsuitable for third parties.

Elin, a thoughtful and considerate girl, immediately turned to Colin, offering a gentle, understanding smile.

"You go ahead and attend to your business; I'd like to be alone for a while."

"I'll be back soon."

Luo Yan gave her an apologetic glance, then rose and adjusted his collar before following Sarah out of the private compartment and into the adjacent carriage.

The moment the carriage door closed, Luo Yan pulled out a magic crystal and placed it beside the door, then casually cast a silence barrier.

The clattering sound outside the window vanished, as if ripped from this space.

Sarah stopped and withdrew a sealed document from her personal space bag, handing it skillfully to Luo Yan.

"My Lord, there has been progress on the matter you entrusted me with."

"After nearly a year of infiltration and reconnaissance by the Holy Mark Organization, we have finally identified the identity of the intelligence chief of the Leyn Kingdom. His name is Ma Lusi—a monk of the Saint Roland Cathedral and the tomb guardian of the Leyn royal crypt, as well as the King's most trusted shadow. Though his origins remain a mystery, we uncovered some intriguing clues in old archives."

As she spoke, a faint smile curled Sarah's lips, and her cat ears twitched slightly in triumph.

It was an emotion only one person could perceive.

"Well done."

Luo Yan affirmed her work, then opened the document and scanned its dense text, his eyebrows lifting slightly.

It was a resume from twenty years ago; according to the annotations, it had originally been stored in the abandoned archives of the Leyn Royal Guard.

Even the Royal Guard itself had likely forgotten this document existed—but the Salvation Army's Holy Mark Organization had dug it out from the trash.

"Twenty years ago, Mr. Ma Lusi was merely an ordinary Bronze-rank warrior; his strength never changed until his retirement at age thirty. Yet after retiring, he suddenly transformed into the King's 'inner master'..."

Luo Yan turned the page, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Can I interpret it this way?"

Though unfamiliar with the term "inner master," Sarah understood the context and nodded slightly.

"As your insight reveals, aside from the publicly known Radiant Knight Hagemo, Ma Lusi is likely the strongest force at King Theoden's side. Holy Mark operatives, based on indirect clues, estimate his strength has reached the Master level."

The amusement in Luo Yan's eyes deepened.

He picked up Sarah's words, speaking thoughtfully.

"An average swordsman whose strength stagnated for a decade, yet after leaving the front lines, he suddenly experienced one stroke of fortune after another—rising from Bronze to Master... If this were the famed 'Stoneclad Sword Saint,' it would be understandable. But no one has ever heard of any legend surrounding Mr. Ma Lusi. Hmm, this is interesting."

Faith power is a complex thing—not merely a simple variable, but a complicated formula involving quantity, time, and numerous multiplicative factors.

Yet regardless, Master level implies 1% faith power—at least according to the algorithm developed by Lin Te Isaac.

Sarah hesitated, voicing her speculation.

"Could it be... the Academic League's Void Realm?"

In her knowledge, the Academic League's Void Realm was an exception—it could draw extra transcendent power factors from other worlds.

Luo Yan smiled faintly, offering no comment on the suggestion.

"The Void Realm's resources aren't even enough for the Academic League's own professors—what benefit would they gain by selling them to the ruler of Leyn?"

Besides, those mages cared nothing for mundane resources; they were cultivators apart from the secular world.

Whether true or not, that's how they saw themselves.

Only scholars who had utterly failed would leave the Academic League to become tutors for monarchs or headmasters of Lei Ming City University.

Luo Yan leaned toward the idea that he had tapped into another kind of power.

A power he had not yet encountered—or perhaps had encountered, but not yet distilled into experience...

At that moment, Luo Yan suddenly lifted his head, a faint chill flashing in his deep purple pupils.

His gaze seemed to pierce through the thick carriage walls, spanning over a hundred kilometers, landing on the shadow outside a watchtower north of Crowfall City.

So they really came.

A wry smile curled his lips.

Noticing Luo Yan's subtle expression shift, Sarah's face grew serious, and she asked softly, with caution.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

The Demon Lord's face returned to its calm composure. He tucked the document into his space ring and said casually.

"Just a few foolish rats. Xixi will handle them."