Chapter 110: The Rat Swarm
The number of ratmen below was so overwhelming that Jima felt suffocated, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out. She began to doubt the physiological structure of the ratmen; how were they not passing out in such low-oxygen conditions?
George fell into the sea of rats amid a shower of broken bricks, not even causing a splash.
With her tattered wings spread wide, Jima felt several wounds on her body mildly ache. However, the adrenaline from the battle dulled her pain. Just as she was preparing to jump down, a warm sensation spread through her wings. Turning her head, she saw Jenna placing her softly glowing hand on Jima’s wing, which quickly healed along with her wounds, the healing process causing an itch.
“Jenna,” Jima smiled at her, “it’s not that different; wings are just for show.”
Jenna simply smiled and shook her head, continuing to gently stroke Jima’s wings. Her haloed, oval face was pristine amidst the dim fortress filled with blood and corpses, resembling a blooming flower.
She withdrew her hand, and Jima’s wings were now fully healed. Jima flapped her wings, producing a whooshing sound. She felt her wings brimming with strength; the faint pain vanished, replaced by a gentle warmth.
Ha, having a beautiful girl healing you from behind feels wonderful. No wonder George was so eager to fight; she envied him.
Jima leaped down, unfolding her wings. The sheer number of ratmen below made her feel claustrophobic.
Some ratman spellcasters were hidden within the throngs, using their compatriots as cover to quietly shoot lightning at Jima.
However, Jima, with her rich combat experience, noted the threats concealed among the ratmen and easily dodged the lightning bolts as they crackled past her. In her hands, the branch axe spear began to heat up, and the axe’s head split open, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth, with a bright red tongue flicking out and dancing, shouting:
“Blood! Blood! Blood!”
The bloodthirst of the “branch axe spear” continuously influenced her mind, as projectiles flew at her from all directions, igniting her nerves.
But Jima remained calm. The situation was chaotic, and she took a moment to assess.
The squad’s intent was to cross the chasm, determined to forge a bloody path across the stone bridge.
She was quick and agile in flight, but killing wasn’t her strength. She needed to scout for the team, to check if the city gate on the other side of the stone bridge was closed. If it was about to close, they needed to do everything in their power to prevent it from happening. That was the key.
With this thought, Jima suppressed the “branch axe spear’s” cravings, flapped her wings, and flew over the heads of the ratmen, quickly making her way toward the exit in an S-curve.
Behind her, several silver arrows shot toward the exposed ratman spellcasters in the rat swarm. At the same time, a glowing orb appeared, illuminating the stone walls of the hall, causing screams to temporarily drown out the clashing sounds of weapons on the battlefield.
The exit was a city gate, integrated with the fortress. The ratmen were in disarray, unsure of what to do.
Jima quickly darted into the five-meter-high city hole, flying out.
Below, a wide stone bridge appeared, capable of accommodating five carts side by side, densely packed with ratmen all moving forward, as the sounds of gunfire erupted from the rear, hinting at growing chaos. Beneath the stone bridge, a river of lava churned, making the bridge seem like a mere toothpick resting on the river’s surface.
This bizarre scene did not distract Jima.
She fixed her gaze on the opposite side of the stone bridge, where the fortress gate stood wide open, a shocking sight. The ratmen had time to lay an ambush, but had not directly closed the city gate.
This was war, a mess, where the outcome depended more on who made fewer mistakes.
Jima felt joy in her heart.
Just then, there was commotion behind her as ratmen continued to pour out of the city gate, fleeing from the randomly moving orb of light. No rat could stand by in the crowded hall and watch the light approach without pushing over their compatriots and fleeing.
Moreover, a brawny man wielding a massive two-handed sword was cutting down anyone in his path, leaving behind severed limbs and fallen bodies.
The ratman officers shouted:
”Stop them! Stop them! Reinforcements are coming!”
”We can’t let them cross the bridge!”
”Kill! Kill! Those fleeing cowards!”
Accompanied by the cracking sound of whips.
The ratmen on the bridge surprisingly regained some order, forming a defensive line at the junction of the bastion and the stone bridge, continuously hacking at the fleeing deserters and pushing them off the bridge’s edge, causing dozens of screams as rats fell into the abyss, their bodies shrinking to a black dot.
Additionally, many ropes hung down from the fortress walls, and some strong ratmen were descending from these ropes to reinforce their ranks.
The progress of the rescue squad slowed significantly as Jima only saw the light shining in the city hole.
Worse still, she saw that the drawbridge on the other side of the chasm was slowly rising, with some ratmen on it. A few ratmen fell, desperately grasping at the edge of the drawbridge, unable to hold on, plummeting into the abyss.
The “Bloodied Songstress” at her waist began to sing an urgent rhythm.
Jima’s heartbeat quickened, feeling powerless. What should she do?
Compulsory dreaming? Curses? In the face of such a massive sea of rats, these would be utterly futile.
Only the blood rain from the “branch axe spear” would be useful, but she had been too busy earlier to take enough heads to feed it.
She needed to inform George and the others quickly.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Jima attempted to fly towards the fray in the city hole.
Atop the fortress walls, a ratman officer pointed at her and screamed:
“Where is she?!”
Hundreds of slingshots began to rotate, along with ballistae set up on the walls.
“Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!”
Hundreds of spindle-shaped lead bullets surged toward Jima, and a bolt of lightning “crackled” past her.
Jima maneuvered chaotically in the air, dodging the projectiles. She saw ratmen standing before the city gate, brandishing long spears aimed at her.
Suddenly, Jima had a thought about Eve Frostleaf’s keen hearing. She wondered if Eve could hear her amidst the chaotic battlefield. She shouted:
“Calling Frostleaf! Calling Frostleaf! Calling Frostleaf!”
“The drawbridge on the opposite side is about to lift! The drawbridge on the opposite side is about to lift! The drawbridge on the opposite side is about to lift!”
“Fire a rocket from the city hole.”
As she tried to dive into the city hole, she kept calling:
“Calling Frostleaf! Calling Frostleaf! Callin—”
A beam of white light shot out from the city hole, ten times brighter than a car’s high beams, likely damaging the retinas of countless ratmen.
As the white light faded, Jenna’s figure emerged, her robe radiating white light, with the bloodstains on it becoming all the more prominent.
The surrounding ratmen were still trying to comprehend what had happened.
Above Saint Jenna’s head, a line of text appeared: “Jima, take me flying.”
Without hesitation, Jima swooped down towards Saint Jenna. The surrounding ratmen snapped out of their stupor and rushed towards Saint Jenna, who wielded her shield and mace, pushing a group of ratmen into the abyss.
There were simply too many ratmen around. Inspired by the sheer number of their comrades, the cowardly ones entered a frenzy, fearlessly charging towards the Valkyrie-like Jenna, with no place to “land.”
Jima shouted, “Jump down!”
Saint Jenna did not hesitate at all, taking a step forward and jumping off the cliff, like a diamond falling into the abyss, heading towards the rushing river of lava.
Jima accelerated, putting away the “branch axe spear,” chasing after the falling Jenna, who opened her arms for her. Her golden hair whipped in the wind as the red-hot lava awaited below.
The urgent song sung by the “Bloodied Songstress” made Jima forget about hesitation. She wrapped one arm around Jenna’s waist and the other around her legs in a standard princess carry. Jenna clung to her neck with one strong arm, raising her shield above their heads for protection.
Jenna was soft and delicate, igniting infinite heroism within Jima. She flapped her wings strongly, lifting Jenna off the ground, the wings creating a whooshing sound as they beat powerfully.
“Jenna,” Jima asked, “Is this your first time flying?”
Jenna’s lovely oval face shook her head. Words appeared above her head, and Jima found it quite adorable, but when she read what the words said, it didn’t seem so cute.
“Take me to the fortress on the opposite side.”
“You? Alone?” Jima couldn’t believe her ears, remembering how Jenna had previously been stabbed through the neck: “That’s practically sending a lamb into a wolf’s den!”
As a specializing healer, wouldn’t it be better for her to just stay behind and heal? Who would throw support into the enemy crowd?
“The only way.”
While Jima was still flying towards the opposite side, her mind was racing, and the “Bloodied Songstress” at her waist began to sing a sorrowful tune. She thought about persuading Jenna to escape together since below them was molten lava. George could fly, Eve Frostleaf could float, and she could carry Jenna with her.
They could simply fly along the river of lava, make an escape, and then figure out a way to cross later, right? As for the dwarf army, they were a burden; if they died, so be it.
But seeing the determination on Jenna’s face, that oval face looked as hard as a cobblestone.
Jima closed her mouth and said, “Don’t die.”
Jenna nodded firmly, and Jima flew even faster, but the drawbridge of the fortress had already risen halfway, while Jima was only halfway across the stone bridge.
Jenna revealed two words above her head: “Hover.”
Jima extended her wings, while Jenna raised her right hand, pointing towards the fortress. Light radiated from her right hand, gradually transforming her into a beam of light that shot toward the fortress; Jima felt a void in her hold.
The “Bloodied Songstress” at her waist began to sing a sorrowful love song buried in her memories, the title of which she couldn’t recall.
Yet the song made Jima smile.
Her relationship with Jenna was merely maintained by that connection through George. She had never possessed her; such righteous companionship romance didn’t belong to her. Since she never owned it, why were these feelings so self-indulgent?
Jenna appeared in the light, landing among the ratmen in the fortified bastion. In an instant, she transformed into a ball of light, with only a vague silhouette remaining, resembling a small sun. The surrounding ratmen raised their hands to shield their eyes as their bodies began to smoke and catch fire in the intense light.
The entire fortress was immensely bright.
This must be the form Jenna took upon her promotion to diamond, a form far more impressive than George’s, sporting only a pair of luminous wings, yet far more magnificent.
Jima turned around, slapped the “Bloodied Songstress,” and it began to play an inspiring march. She gripped the “branch axe spear” tightly, flying back to assist in the battle.
Behind her, the chains of the drawbridge turned red and then shattered, causing the heavy drawbridge to crash down.
A smile spread across Jima’s face as she addressed the “branch axe spear” in her hand, saying, “Let’s kill to our heart’s content.”
