Sancho had no time to react; the rat powered forward and impaled its pointy, oily nose straight into his back. Without hesitation, the rat proceeded to thrust its revolting head upwards at an immense speed, sending Sancho flying straight into the large metal cover on the ceiling. He guarded with his arms, as they were already coated in armour on his mannequin, which allowed him to diminish any pain he would have normally received from the exchange. Yet, this impulsive defence quickly proved to be a mistake, as he realised that, by allowing his torso to take the hit, his mannequin would have coated itself in more protection, leading him to become closer to a full set of armour. Alas, he quickly decided that he would either allow himself to be hit somewhere on his torso or purposefully harm himself; this way, he could be prepared for a counterattack against this humongous enemy.
As he fell from the ceiling's height, the rat launched its tail towards Sancho. It wrapped around him like a snake, moving fluidly as if it were a different being, entirely with its own mind. It was absurdly long, taking up barely a fraction of its total length in consuming Sancho's body. He reviled at the feeling of its fleshy texture as it quickly tightened around him. He tried tirelessly to avoid looking at the monster that grasped him, but it was impossible; its large, hairy body was inescapable to the eye, taking up the totality of his peripheral vision. Although currently protected by his projection's technique, he could not help but feel entirely horror-stricken at what stood before him: never had he seen a beast so large, nor so vile and gut-wrenchingly grotesque from head to toe.
The rat swung its tail backwards to charge up a following motion, which sent Sancho soaring forwards at unprecedented speeds. He was thrown out of the room and into the darkness of the catacombs, breaking through the curvature in the tunnel walls. Debris fell onto him one after another: the ancient architecture of the catacombs was falling apart rapidly. The speed at which he had been thrown caused him to become embedded in the wall, a silhouette of his body indented in the path behind him.
Back in the well-lit room, the rat sat on all four of its grimy feet, basking in the descending heat and relishing in the shallow waters beneath it.
'N-Nezumi?!' the boy said in complete and utter terror. His eyes were partially bloodshot and wide enough that his pupils seemed to be more like large boulders placed in his sockets. His entire body shook, and his legs were plastered to the stone archway; he was physically incapable of exerting any strength to move.
The rat turned its head so its right eye now stared directly into the shivering boy's soul. It was a large, lightless orb; staring at it long enough would surely drain one's sanity. The boy closed his eyes as tight as possible, hoping that when he opened them, the demon would be gone. He repeated in his head, 'please be a dream!', but his prayers were futile. He slowly raised one eyelid, so only a sliver of light could come into contact with his retina. The first and only thing he saw was the rat's bulging eye staring back at him. He let out a scream of pure terror, before curling into a ball and extending his arm out as defence.
'Look away if you must,' came a voice, seemingly from nowhere. It sounded as clear as any voice would when standing in the same room: loud and verbose, not lacking clarity. It was a haunting voice, sly in tone. Yet, who was speaking?
'In fact, I advise you to look away; to see such a brutal murder at your age can leave such
a scar,' the voice ended its short speech, drifting off to a malevolent chuckle. Each word sent a chill down the boy's spine.
'M-Master Gero… is that you?' The boy opened his eyes fully and looked at the rat. He recognised the voice; it was entirely familiar to him. However, he could not see the man whose voice it belonged to. He looked around at the spaces unoccupied by the rat's large body, but could see no one. As a last resort, he quickly shot a glance at the rat, following its tail all the way to the top of its head. Once he saw that no man shared the room with him, the boy concluded, although reluctantly at first, that the familiar voice was coming from the rat.
'You have done well to bring me one so soon. And it is just as Nero said, he is a power user… I suspect that he is yet to be defeated. Yet, I must thank you, boy, for you got him to spill the nature of his projection's technique; this battle should be of great ease.'
The boy relaxed partially; his unexpected praise warranted a sense of ease. He uncurled his body and stood up. 'So you aren't going to kill me?'
There was a pause in the rat's response. 'No… you may still prove to be of further use.'
The boy did not fully consider the rat's words: all he heard was that he would survive this encounter and, therefore, became rejuvenated in his spirit.
'Then, I have something for you!' The boy reached into the folds of his clothes and unveiled once more the stolen amulet from around his neck. His face beamed with animation. The amulet swung from side to side in his excitement, for he was desperate to show the rat his findings and receive great praise once more.
The rat leaned in slightly, trying to get a greater look at the red object in the boy's hand. As it observed the amulet, the red embedded jewel came into direct contact with a beam of light from one of the slits in the ceiling's case. The light travelled through the jewel and refracted back at the rat's eye. In that moment, an explosive noise protruded from the direction of the rat, followed by a deathly shrill that reverberated between the walls of the room. It was a horrifying cry, one that is typically only heard in times of an imminent encounter with death. The boy's mouth dropped in panic as he witnessed the side of the rat's head being completely obliterated.
Its eye had been disintegrated into irretrievable parts, whilst the side of its head poured out a waterfall of blood and brains. The boy stared at the hole in the rat's head and noticed that a red light was shining in a straight line on the wall from the other side. A searing sound was hovering around the rat's wound, whilst a subtle sight of smoke dissolved into the air. The boy covered his mouth as the scent of burning rat flesh wafted into his nose, completely killing his senses.
The rat writhed in pain, shrieking uncontrollably. 'WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY NEZUMI!'
'W-WHAT! I didn't do anything, I swear!' The boy pleaded with his entire being.
The rat turned its head, blood and chunks of flesh gushing out as it did so, and looking furiously at the boy. Its eye was filled with rage and terror all at once.
'THAT AMULET! YOU HAVE BROUGHT IT TO KILL ME, HAVEN'T YOU!'
'No, I stole it from that guy and his friends: it was a gift for you, Master Gero!'
'OH, I SEE, SO YOU HAVE SIDED WITH THEM! DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A FOOL, BOY? THEY HAVE ENTRUSTED YOU WITH SUCH A TASK AS KILLING ME, AND SINCE YOU ARE SO IGNORANT, YOU HAVE COMPLIED! WELL THEN, IF YOU ARE TO FOLLOW THEM INSTEAD, YOU CAN SHARE THEIR FATE!'
A faint glow was emitted around the rat's gaping wound. It grunted and churned slightly as its wound began to close. The boy watched in astonishment as brains, skull and tissue all began to reconstruct and attach to one another; even the eyeball had returned in its full appearance and practicality. Soon, the hole had completely healed and looked as if it had never sustained such a fatal blow in the first place.
Never before had the boy seen such power: he was struck with complete awe and amazement, not knowing of what stood before him. This was no rat, nor beast, but a devil's pet. Initially, he did not even notice the rat's tail driving towards him, which took a meticulous course to avoid coming into contact with the amulet's light. It was like a rapier being thrown at incredible speeds: nimble and unavoidable. The boy had no spirit for an attack, which would likely be futile against such a creature anyway. What was he to do but accept his fate to the rat's viscous attack?
The boy closed his eyes and prepared for his inevitable and fatal impalement. But it did not come. Instead, a subtle feeling of cold metal pressed against him. The boy opened his eyes and saw that a man, coated in armour from head to toe, stood before him, legs spread widely to try and balance himself on the small archway. His sword, although extremely thin, pierced the rat's tail, and he was actively trying to suppress its attack, twisting the blade to inflict pain on the rat.
'Hey, boy!' came a voice from below. The boy looked down and saw Sancho, completely unscathed and smiling. 'Mind if I borrow that amulet?'