The ratters looked like rats that had learned to walk around on their hind legs. They were maybe a meter to a meter and a half tall. And had two pairs of sharp teeth that gashed as they ran forward. While their bodies were covered in coarse and dark looking hair. In place of clothes all they had on were ragged looking loincloths. And their hands were holding primitive bone weapons. Some were clubs weighted down with stones while others were sharpened into points.

  As they squeaked and hissed the initial pack of charging ratters went from maybe 10 to countless. And as more and more of them appeared on the street their calls must have spread even further. Richard had assumed that the first group was insane, daring to charge a larger number. But seeing the ratter tide come towards them he was feeling like they were going to be the ones in trouble.

  There was a cackle at his side, and when he looked Jackie was already gone. She had somehow jumped over the clan members in front of her and crashed into the first pack of ratters. Two of them she crushed under her feet and shield. While her sword snapped out and bisected another.

  She wasn’t alone. There were other heavily armored clan members were already in melee as well. They had intercepted any charging packs and appeared strong enough that they just might be able to take care of them solo.

  “Hey! Leave some for the rest of us!” Someone called out. It was like flood gates opened up and the clan members thundered forwards all at once. Richard wanted to wait and see at first, only he found himself caught up in the movement of the others.

  A ratter was suddenly in his face, its long yellow teeth snapped at him and light glinted off its soulless black eyes. Richard swung the spear like he would have his club. Only he over compensated due to the lightness of the spear and the blow glanced against the ratter’s shoulder. Such a light wound wasn't enough to prevent it from fighting back. One of the ratter’s hand grabbed the spear haft and the other, holding a dirty looking bone shiv, stabbed forward.

  “You need to finish them off in one hit,” his father said from his side. His spear shot through the ratter’s heart and it went limp. With a kick his father knocked the ratter off of the end of his spear.

  The reprieve gave Richard a chance to look around him. Many of the others had finished their fights and had continued forward. “I’m used to using something a bit heavier like a club. Didn't expect the spear to feel so different. Move so different.”

  “Try to train with other weapons. You don't always get a choice of what you fight with. Sometimes you even need to take weapons from the enemy,” his father said. “Not that ratters are decent crafters. Once their bone weapons have broken they move onto their more reliable claws and teeth.”

  Richard looked at the body of the ratter that he had killed with his father. His mind went to wondering about what the drops might be. Only as the blood continued to pool under the body it didn’t seem to be fading at all. “What about the drops?”

  “Naturalized break species don’t turn into drops. Their bodies will stay until we deal with them. Now let's try again.” His father slapped him on the back and pushed him forward. Richard noticed that some of the other younger people had also hung back. Several were looking as pale as he felt. While one was vomiting on the side while an old timer patted them on the back.

  Richard felt somewhat queasy himself. He had just killed something real. It was a first for him. Something with flesh and blood. Something that didn’t just disappear. Something that could have just as easily killed him instead. There wasn’t anything else to do but move forward. Unpacking the new feelings could wait until later after the danger had passed.

  It didn’t take long for the groups of ratters to be routed. Those that ran were destroyed from behind with magic and ranged weapons. The bodies were left where they had fallen. And the clan kept marching onwards to the breach.

  There were a few more skirmishes, though they never got to be as big as the first one. And the old timers joked about how they were running low already. As how in the old days they could continue killing ratters for days without rest. And even then there would still be enough to fill the horizon. Just the thought of such a sight sent chills down Richard’s back.

  As they moved onwards the scope of the breach became clearer. And could maybe fit two or three houses between the broken edges of the walls. They heard sounds of combat coming from up ahead and everyone broke into a jog. Coming around a corner Richard could see a party fighting in a brutal melee. Each of the people still standing were covered with wounds and blood. While one of them was on the ground, being protected by the others.

  “Hoho! Now there are some young people who know how to fight!” Jackie said as the party appeared. “Just that they might have bit off more than they can chew.”

  The tanks broke into a sprint and were the first to arrive. Then the lighter and unarmored dps a moment later. They cut into the ratters and mowed through them in an instant. There was a sudden squeak and the ratters started a fighting withdrawal. Only the experienced members of the clan finished them off before they could make space to turn and flee. A trail of ratter bodies showed the winding path that the party had taken as they tried to disengage.

  With reinforcements and the immediate danger passed the party all but collapsed. Richard heard a familiar voice and approached. They were really looking rough. But from what he could see they were the party from the Silver Swords who had saved him from the red guild.

  Em was trying to catch her breath and was leaning on a chipped two handed sword. A man with a shaved head and bushy eyebrows was tending to a woman sprawled out on the ground. She had taken a head wound and it was caked into her brown hair. She must have been alright as she was laughing. While Art was on the ground and groaning. There was a wound on his neck that, even in the dim streetlight, looked alarmingly dark. There were veins leading away that were stained black.

  An old timer stepped forward. She was holding a staff adorned with a small skull and was wearing a nice looking blue blouse and grey skirt. While her hair was short and somewhat messy looking. With a soft grunt she crouched down next to Art and touched his wound. “Oh? Those ratter bastards seemed to have been up to some tricks. Only they shouldn’t be able to create curses… Maybe they come from a break? Probably something for the younger generation to deal with. Anyways,” she turned her head towards the clan members watching on, “has anyone seen Benedict? That old codger had a skill for curses right?”

  Someone spoke up. “Sorry Lucia, he passed about a decade ago. Tripped and fell.”

  “Bah! That couldn't have killed him. Even at our age we are tougher than stairs.”

  Another chimed in. “Who said that it was stairs?” Several of them laughed. “We got banned from drinking on the wall after that. Not that they can catch us if we decide to run.”

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  Lucia her head. “Guess that we’ll have to see what else there is,” she said and stood.

  “It’s okay,” Emily said. “We have a potion that should help. We would have given it to him before, but we were overwhelmed and they wouldn't give us a chance to treat our wounds.” Her hands moved to the bag at her waist. Only she appeared to be having some trouble getting them to move the way that she wanted.

  “You need treatment almost as much as he does. Hold still a moment,” Lucia held a hand forward and chanted a quick aria. When she finished a white glow enveloped Emily and her wounds slowly nit together and then disappeared. “Hoo, that still takes it out of me. Lets see to the others.” She used her staff to steady herself and then moved towards the other two.

  Emily was then able to retrieve the potion she wanted. And Richard’s eyes widened when he realized that it was one of his. He couldn't tell what kind it was due to the way that she was holding it, but at the very least it was in a Red Carapace Vial.

  She brought Art’s head into her lap, ignored his mention of how he would have liked a softer lap pillow, and poured the potion into his mouth. It seemed to go down easily enough. And Richard kept his eyes focused on the wound. Only nothing visible happened at first. It couldn't have been a dud right?

  Then, slowly, a warm red light started to glow from Art’s body. It lasted a few seconds, becoming much brighter, before it finally faded away. When Richard looked at the wound again it appeared to be healthy. Well, as healthy as a small stab could look on someone’s neck.

  “Well I’ll be,” Lucia said as she hurried over. “Guess that’s one way to pluck a chicken.” She started to fuss over Art and started chanting again.

  Emily looked at the empty potion vial in her hands and shook her head. When she looked around the people who were standing around her eyes widened when she spotted Richard. After a moment she nodded her head and raised the empty vial towards him. He felt that she was almost thanking him for it. But that couldn't be possible right? He stifled a groan and nodded back to her. Stupid potion vials.

  Instead of getting embroiled in something that could be annoying Richard went looking for his father. He was glad that the party was safe. Though they seemed to be missing a few members. Given the situation when he last encountered them all he wasn’t really in the right mind frame to count how many were in Em’s party. But it felt like it should have been more than 4. He just hoped that they hadn’t fallen to the ratters.

  When he caught up with the old timers they were looking at the breach in the wall. The rubble had fallen in such a way that there was an unsteady and winding path between inside and outside. Located at the smallest point was a makeshift structure. Which appeared to have been cobbled together with fences, doors, mailboxes, and anything else barely nailed down that the ratters could get their hands onto.

  “Damned ratters have created a barricade. It might be possible to bombard it. But I have a feeling that plan might not work as well as we hope,” Jackie said. She was standing at the very front of the clan members, closest to the enemy.

  She jerked her head towards a group of clan members who were all standing off to the side. All as one they extended an arm or a staff or bows towards the barricade and a moment later a multi element shower of spells and arrows rained down on the ratters. At least it would have had a white glowing barrier not appeared on top of it first. The spells fizzled and the arrows shattered or scattered into the darkness.

  Richard’s father shook his head. “What are they even doing nowadays? How could a ratter cleric of all things appear?” He must have seen the lost look on Richard’s face and continued, “Ratters that come from the dungeon have skills and levels. But those that are born on earth are just as weak as humans who haven’t got the System.

  “Most of the ones we just fought were rather weak. But those,” he pointed towards a new pack of ratters, “obviously have better gear than the others, and probably levels and skills to boot. Something that shouldn’t exist in the current age.” The pack had stepped out from behind the barricade. They were equipped with bone and wood looking armor. And were pointing what could be metal weapons towards the clan members.

  “So, a break then?” Richard asked. It had taken 10 years for humanity to start to get back on their feet. And that was only locally. In other sections of the world there were rumors that they were still fighting against break species and monsters. While vast stretches of land were already considered to be lost.

  “That’s the easy answer in this case,” Jackie said and turned to the barricade. “Regardless of their source we aren’t going to be able to take the barricade without injuries, or worse, casualties.” A silence passed through the clan members at Jackie’s words. “And here I was hoping that we could all die from old age and not something like a ratter.”

  Someone shouted from behind Richard. “Wouldn't have minded it so much if it were a dragon.” Which brought on laughs. He shook his head. Just who were these people? Fighting a dragon was something that would kill most parties. But somehow they treated it as a joke?

  There was a warning shout as a group of ratters came running down a street from the east. Richard noticed that they were different in that they were lugging along full looking bags. Since it was only a small group they were dealt with in a flash, the old timers being surprisingly vicious in their dispatching.

  “Don’t bother with the bags,” his father said with a frown. “This is probably a raid, for food or anything else that they might find useful. We’ll mourn the lost once we’ve dealt with the danger.” Richard turned his head away, but something caught his interest. The items inside one of the bags was pressing against the material and unsettled him for some reason. He tore his eyes away and caught the middle of a conversation.

  “-them point the mobile wall lights at the barricade. Given the lack of a roof on the barricade the ratters probably didn’t expect that we had something to blind them with. And if we can keep the light in their eyes long enough we might be able to get in before we take too much damage,” Jackie said. Around her were a few more old timers that Richard hadn’t seen before. They were likewise all wearing heavy armor. “It will fall to us tanks, at least those that still have their gear, to take the brunt of the assault.”

  Richard took a deep breath. He had just seen how his potion helped Art. If the Swords hadn't saved him that day in the Beetle Dungeon, then he wouldn’t have made the Soul Purifying potion that saved Art in turn. He shook his head at the coincidence. At how saving one life led to another being saved in turn.

  The clan members milled around as they tried to figure out how to attack the barricade. There was no hesitation against laying down their lives in order to seal the break in the wall. They weren’t worried about what they might give up, but who and what they might save with their actions. If he had the ability to, wouldn't it make sense to try and keep such people in the world for a little while longer?

  Richard looked to his father, there was so much that he wanted to hear from the old man. Things that had been buried in the past. And while he wasn’t going to be at the very front, he knew that his father would rush into melee alongside the others given half a chance.

  “I don’t know if this will be of any use at all,” Richard said as he reached into his back pocket, “but I have a potion here that might help.” He handed it off to Jackie. She squinted as she looked at him, and then at his father who only shrugged.

  When she took the potion her eyes widened. “What is the effect?”

  “At the very least it’s the flash part of a flashbang. Bright enough to blind unprepared humans for several moments. When I used it before I smashed it against the ground.”

  If she was curious about why Richard had such a potion on him, or where it came from, Jackie didn’t show it. A smile crept onto her face and she nodded to him. “This will be our linchpin. If it can blind a human like that then those rat bastards will be meat on our swords.” She quickly shot out several orders about group this and that doing a maneuver like in 55. He tried to follow it all but found that it didn’t make much sense to him.

  His father clapped him on the back and laughed. “Seems like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.” He had a big grin on his face and leaned in close. “Just don’t tell your mother,” He said and jogged forward to join with the other unarmored clan members.