When Maisen saw that I obeyed her command and left the chamber, she used the brief respite to feed Peng the rest of her healing potions. His potions had been used up inside the tunnel. While she SHOULD save something for herself, Maisen also realized that if he died then her own odds of holding off the wererats, while the nobleman sought help, would be nearly zero. Besides, she and Peng had been through so much together over the years; the last thing she wanted was to see him die before her.
The stubborn captain kept his eyes on Lijun but refrained from joining the melee. Instead, he used Maisen's healing potions to return to full health. He already understood what Maisen had planned for the two of them—to make a last stand here in the chamber and to kill as many wererats as they could. If they left this chamber, then the wererats would be free to venture into the other tunnels and attack the two remaining groups from behind. To abandon this chamber and return to the surface would mean abandoning his men; that Captain Li refused to do even to save his own life. Since the two were heavily outnumbered by the wererats, it was tantamount to a suicide mission. The nobleman was sent away so that he could live.
Since Bishop Canterbury had granted a private audience to Lawrence Eugene Mulligan, the captain recognized that the nobleman was important to the Bishop's plans and, therefore, could not be allowed to die here in the tunnels. If the bishop knew how many wererats were inside the tunnels, the church leader would have sent double the number of Watchmen with the captain.
Be that as it may, Captain Li was very happy to have a familiar person at his back—and to watch him die.
#
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” I cussed under my breath as I ran for the exit. Now, I knew how the young Gendun felt when the grandmaster forced him and the other apprentices to flee the dojo. Captain Li was in no condition to fight and, yet, Maisen chose HIM to be her partner in a suicidal last stand rather than me. I was older than those two and I should have been the one staying behind to delay the wererats while Maisen and the captain run back to the surface. Unfortunately, I had to admit that she made the right decision to dismiss me because my fighting skills were sorely lacking and I wouldn’t have served as even a speed bump for that pack of wererats.
As proof of my ineptitude in the fighting arts, I did not receive credit for even a single kill! We had killed at least a half-dozen wererats, but my lack of pop-ups from their deaths meant that I had killed none of them. And Maisen, being partied with me, was well aware of that fact. Small wonder, then, that I was treated like Gendun and asked to leave the fighting to proficient fighters like her and Li. I never felt so humiliated in my life! If I ever get an opportunity to fight a wererat on my own, I will show Maisen exactly how good a fighter I really was. Just wait and see!
As if the gods had heard my prayers, dirt and rocks started falling from the ceiling just ahead of me. I was lucky that the main tunnel was torch-lit every dozen feet or so because otherwise, I would not have seen the debris coming down. I stopped running in the tunnel and my feet made some skid marks on the ground.
CRASH! Suddenly, something huge dropped down from a hole in the ceiling.
A dust cloud appeared and I had to wave my hand in front of my face to clear up the dust. As I wondered what had dropped from the ceiling I instinctively triggered my Spirit Sense. When my reading showed a red aura, I started backing away—slowly and quietly. I ignored my pop-up. What was I supposed to do now? A wererat was blocking the only exit to the surface!
Finally, the dust settled and I found myself staring at the dark gray colored fur of Ebenthal. I couldn't believe it. The gods of this gaming world must have been working hard in pulling the red strings of fate to bind us together—again. With no backup, I realized that I had to defeat my nemesis on my own in order to return to the surface. The lives of Maisen, the captain, Rijana, the elven twins, and the rest of the brave men and women who volunteered for this Were-Hunt were depending on me. I felt my anxiety attack starting again and took deep breaths to calm myself down.
When my nemesis saw me standing in the tunnel, he started chuckling at his good fortune. “Too bad, milord,” he taunted while waving an index finger at me. “The gods of Chaos must have favored me! For here, standing before me is the one human that I hate above all else!” he declared.
“What did I do to you?” I asked while stalling for time to recover my stamina. I had to expend stamina in order to run at my top speed through the tunnel. I knew that my rematch with Ebenthal was inevitable, and I needed every ounce of stamina in order to defeat this wererat.
“What did you do? You ruined my plans!” Ebenthal exploded with anger. “If you had simply died like a good little boy on the street, I would have escaped with your fat money pouch full of platinum coins and returned to my lair under this town. Instead, your apparent good luck got me knocked out and then captured by the Watch! I knew it was a matter of time before my were-nature was discovered and I had to use the public trial to escape. The years we had spent carefully turning the townspeople into wererats were all ruined because of you!”
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“Why would you want to turn us into wererats?” I asked. I used the opportunity to clear my pop-up message, which read, “Spirit sense SUCCESSFUL. +50XP.”
Ebenthal chuckled again. “Since you’re about to die, I’ll be generous and answer your question. We wanted to turn Tregome into an outpost for wererats and other agents of Chaos. And once we turned all the residents into my pack, we will then repeat the operation in the next town and village and continue eastward until we control a wide region in the western part of the kingdom.”
“Wow! That is a devious plan!” I admitted.
“It was indeed,” the wererat nodded, “until you ruined it. Now, you must pay—with your life!” Ebenthal ran toward me and quickly closed the distance between us.
I pulled out my silver blade from the scabbard and calmly stood still. When my opponent was in range, I immediately used my sword technique, “Charge.”
The wererat saw the danger and immediately hit the brakes.
However, my opponent still ran into my range and I managed to cut through his chest. I quickly read my pop-up: “Charge skill SUCCESSFUL. -10 Stamina. Critical hit! -45 damage. +100XP.” While I was happy that I had used Charge successfully, I was dismayed by the fact that Ebenthal didn’t die from it. The skill sucked up more than half my stamina if I had read the green bar on the upper left of my view correctly.
Ebenthal put a hand over his left chest. The blade had sliced through his ribcage and split his left lung in two. “When did you learn to fight?” he wheezed. He stared at the sword and realized that the blade was silver. Ebenthal was not going to heal the wound naturally via his were-nature.
“This morning. I’m a fast learner,” I replied flippantly and took another swing with my sword.
My opponent used his superior speed to avoid the hit and countered with a whack on my sword hand.
However, I managed to retain my grip on my sword. The pop-up read, “-5 Health.”
Ebenthal squeaked in delight when he saw that he had drawn my blood. He made a showing of licking his claws, which were dripping with my blood.
"I didn't realize you like to drink blood," I commented.
"Foolish human! Of course, I don't!" the wererat retorted. "I was only savoring the first drops of your blood, which will wash my tunnel soon enough."
"Oh? If we're keeping score, I think you're the one bleeding like a fat pig so far," I hurled a witty insult back at him. I hoped that I could taunt him into making mistakes.
"Oh, we will remedy that soon enough," my nemesis replied coolly. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between us again. Ebenthal backhanded me across my face. Wham!
The force of the blow hurled me back and I slammed into the wall. I quickly read my ensuing pop-ups: "-5 Health." "Status: DISORIENTED. -10% Attack. -5 Health." Ouch. My red bar, which apparently represented my health, had dropped below the mid-point. I started to peel myself off the wall but suddenly felt a hand grab my right shoulder, pinning my body against the wall. The claws dug into my shoulder and another notification appeared: "-2 Health."
"Stay still, boy, while I rip the truth stone off your neck," Ebenthal commanded. He put his right hand on the obsidian cross and immediately screamed in pain. "YEARGH!" Purely on reflex, the wererat released me and took a few steps back; he looked down at his burned palm.
I pushed myself off the wall. My right hand was miraculously still holding my sword. I launched myself at my nemesis, with the sharp point of my blade aimed straight at his heart. Suddenly, I felt a light tap on my bloodied shoulder. A pop-up appeared. I felt my avatar feeling stronger and faster. My green bar had been completely replenished! I didn't have time to worry about what happened. Instead, I focused on ending this fight—with Charge!
Hearing my footsteps, Ebenthal looked up at me and then his eyes focused on something behind me. His eyes returned their focus to me and he tried to back away from my sword tip; however, his brief distraction proved costly.
I slammed my blade straight through Ebenthal's chest until my sword hilt pressed against his ribcage. I ignored the pop-ups and instead stared deep into my opponent's glassy eyes. I was cognizant of the fact that this was the first time that I had really, truly taken a life in this world and on purpose, too. I felt that I was Honorbound to observe my nemesis’ last moments of life. He deserved that much dignity from me, at least.
Ebenthal drew a half-breath and then his body went limp.
I immediately released my blade and turned around. I saw nothing else in the tunnel. It was empty. However, I heard a sound, "Kekeke," and smelled a whiff of rotten eggs (which I recognized as hydrogen sulfide) in the air. Seeing that I was alone, I quickly pulled my sword free of Ebenthal's body and continued running through the dimly-lit tunnel.