That man began to walk toward where Leaf and I were. He held a huge golden flute between his bony fingers, as if that piece were a natural extension of his twisted soul. His attire was strange, as garish and discordant as his smile: he looked like a jester torn from a cursed carnival, someone who had forgotten what sanity was and yet imitated it only to mock the world.
The echo of his steps resonated in the sewers like a mocking whisper. The air stank of humidity, iron, and rot. Every shadow writhed as if hiding life of its own, and the stagnant water carried distant echoes—wails, shrieks.
—Hey, you know? You're annoying —said the man, without stopping his walk toward us—. Get out of here quick, before I choose to get offended.
He spoke as if his voice were a toy he entertained himself with, modulating it, twisting it, savoring every syllable. Meanwhile, he glanced at Leaf out of the corner of his eye, with a gleam that irritated me deeply.
When he finished speaking, he turned around without more and approached a corpse lying on the ground, a small, deformed body. The man began to manipulate it with strange movements.
—Hey, what are you doing? —I asked, unable to contain myself.
He didn't stop. His fingers danced over the corpse, opening its belly, arranging the twisted bones, letting the blood run through the cracks in the floor.
—As you see —he responded with an insultingly casual tone—, I'm preparing corpses of spoiled little demons so the rats can feed in this damn city. The church controlled everything, claiming heresy. They even… even killed my family. But I have my revenge. My little gods of death flooded the city and swept away all the damn brats. I didn't think everything would turn out so well. Maybe I should find the rat kingdom and rule as king… though now that I think about it, it wouldn't be very good. Kukukuku…
His laugh slid through the tunnels like a soft poison. Leaf frowned as soon as she heard what that man said.
—Even if you say all that —I said, feeling the rage growing—, I can't let you keep killing innocents. I don't think all the people in that city deserved to die like that. I'll have to stop you now.
He stopped. The shadow of his body distorted in the dim light falling from the ceiling. Finally, he turned his head toward me, smiling with yellowish teeth, sharp like those of a sick animal.
—Oh? You want to kill me? —he asked in a melodic, almost amused tone—. You don't take me seriously. You think I'm weak, right? Then… I won't make it easy for you. And anyway, why not? You'll make good fodder for the rats. And I, their King, will kill you. Kukukuku…
He took a few steps back. He raised the golden flute. He placed it on his lips. And as soon as he blew, a twisted, almost dissonant melody came out of it, vibrating like a distant scream.
Immediately, rats began to emerge from every hole, crevice, and crack in the sewer. There were hundreds. Thousands perhaps. Their bodies were green and pale, as if they had emerged from a flooded grave. Their eyes glowed with a sickly gleam.
I drew my sword without thinking. Leaf raised her hands, her fingers trembling slightly but her eyes firm.
She began to launch soul arrows one after another. Each one impacted with precision, piercing skulls.
The illusory sky above our heads briefly opened to allow her to summon more arrows from above.
But still… they kept coming.
The rats multiplied with unsettling speed. Even if we cut them in two, even if we burned them, even if we crushed them, they kept falling from above, dragging from below, flooding the area like a living ocean.
I cut heads, tails, legs, entire bodies, making my way through them while trying to get closer to the flutist. He kept playing the same melody, without varying the rhythm, completely focused.
Until at last he changed his expression.
When I was close enough, he suddenly altered the melody. The notes became faster, sharper, more frantic. The rats glowed a sickly green for a second, as if the magic vibrated inside them.
The flutist smiled madly.
One of the rats lunged at me. I tried to cut it like the others, but this one moved too fast. Faster than any normal animal. It was as if every fiber of its body was reinforced by alien, dark, hungry magic.
—I improved their bodies… —I muttered through my teeth.
The rats were no longer simple rats. They were monsters with magical muscle, with corrupt strength, with impossible speed. My blows seemed to do nothing to them. Even if I cut them, even if I hit them, their fangs pierced my armor, tearing off pieces of metal and skin.
Leaf kept fighting, sending soul arrows nonstop. But she was starting to tremble. Her breathing was irregular. Her magic was running out little by little, like a dry river.
I had no choice.
Even though the rats were devouring me, I had to cross. I had to reach the flutist.
I began to run, to push, to cut, to kick. Every movement felt desperate. Every bite burned like acid fire on my skin.
The pain accumulated. My legs were already covered in blood. But still, I continued.
I gripped my sword tightly. It was my last chance. My last card.
I raised it. I felt my muscles protest. And with a desperate roar… I threw it directly at the flutist's chest.
The blade flew through the air.
But he, anticipating, raised a wall of rats that jumped to intercept it. My sword pierced several, but got stuck in the improvised living wall. The weapon fell to the ground, covered in green and black blood.
The flutist cackled, proud of his grotesque defense.
However…
The wall fell a second later.
And there, behind him, Leaf, trembling, exhausted, almost without strength… with the last spark of energy she had left.
Her soul arrow glowed with a pale blue light.
And it flew.
The flutist barely had time to turn. The arrow pierced his throat cleanly. His music broke. His eyes opened with a mixture of surprise and terror. He brought his hands to his neck as the blood gushed, dark, thick. He collapsed to the ground amid gagging and gurgling, dying drowned in his own blood while his flute rolled to my feet.
The remaining rats stopped. They looked around, confused, scared, orphaned. Then they fled in all directions, losing themselves in the labyrinth of the sewers.
Leaf fell exhausted onto my shoulder. I hugged her to hold her while my own body bled everywhere. My vision was starting to blur from blood loss. My steps were slow, heavy.
But we kept walking together.
One step, then another, leaving a trail of red drops on the wet floor.
After a while that felt eternal, we found iron stairs ascending to a higher level. They were ancient, rusted, covered in moss. They seemed to lead to an unknown place, a site we hadn't seen yet.
We climbed. And climbed. And climbed.
Each step was a battle. Each muscle burned. But we didn't stop.
Finally, we emerged from the sewers. The air changed. The light too. What greeted us was a ruinous landscape, dark, wrapped in a strange wind.
We had arrived…
At the Rotten Burgo.