The swarm still clung to him.
Rats gnawed at every scrap of exposed flesh, their teeth scraping bone. Hot breath and the stench of blood closed around him in a suffocating haze. His left ear was gone—he could feel nothing there but raw air on bone—and strips of skin hung from his arm where the creatures had chewed him nearly to the muscle.
Airen slammed both hands against the stone wall. The rodents latched onto his wrists burst with wet pops beneath his palms. Agony shot up his arms, but he didn't hesitate. He wrenched a torch from its bracket, the wood burning so hot it hissed against his skin, and drove the flame into the nearest cluster.
Screeches split the chamber as fur caught fire. The reek of singed meat clawed at his throat. Snarling, he seized the rats chewing his cheek and crushed them in his fist, smearing blood and ash across his face.
[Good,] the System urged, voice steady despite the chaos. [Now—make for the far end of the floor. Rewards are stored there. You might find something that might help you to win this fight.]
Airen barely heard it. Adrenaline drowned the pain as he lunged forward, torch sweeping wide. The swarm recoiled from the heat, only to surge again through gaps. He planted his boots, sword in one hand, flame in the other, carving a path step by step—torch to scatter them, steel to finish the boldest.
Bit by bit he forced them back until a heavy chest came into view against the far wall. Iron bands bit into its wood, and soot coated the lid. He kicked aside twitching bodies, wiped his brow with a blood-streaked sleeve, and knelt. Inside lay a scatter of items: dull coins, leather scraps, a pair of gold bars… and a stone that pulsed orange as if a coal glowed at its heart, threads of light veining its surface.
[That stone—quickly, take it! It's a Fire-Magic Rune.]
Airen snatched it up. As soon as his fingers closed around the smooth, warm surface, a faint panel flickered before his eyes: [Use Rune?]
Rats were already regrouping, eyes like embers.
[Click Use—now!] the System barked.
He hit Use. Heat knifed through his shoulder, sharper than any bite, forcing a hoarse cry from him.
"Nggh—! Gods, that—!" He staggered, teeth clamped so hard his jaw ached.
[Good. Now imagine a fireball in your mind.]
Anger steadied his shaking hands. He pictured flame, dense and bright, and a sphere of searing light flared into existence above his palm. For a heartbeat surprise widened his eyes—then his mouth twisted into a fierce grin, laughter rasping low in his throat.
"This… will be fun."
He hurled the ball into the oncoming pack. It burst with a crack, spraying sparks across stone. Another followed, and another—ten blazing projectiles that turned the chamber into a storm of fire. Rats shrieked as flames rolled over them; some bolted ablaze, others writhed where they'd fallen, fur blistering to ash. The smell of cooked flesh filled the dungeon.
When the last echo faded, only smouldering heaps remained. Firelight licked the walls, painting Airen's torn face in gold and shadow. He stood still, chest heaving, a dark satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.
"Serves you right," he murmured, not with relief, but with a dangerous calm.
[Floor cleared] the System reported.
Only then did the pain rush back. He collapsed onto the stones, a scream tearing from him as nerves flared alive. Yet through the haze he noticed something strange: wounds along his arms and legs were knitting, though far too slowly to save his ruined cheek.
"Damn… I can't feel my left face," he rasped.
[That's because there's no left face left,] the System replied flatly.
"What?" His fingers touched bare bone where skin should be. "What the hell—"
[There's a red potion in the chest. Drink it—quickly!]
Airen lurched up, grabbed the crimson vial, and downed it in one gulp. Coolness surged through him, racing along every torn nerve. Skin re-formed, muscle tightened, his ear and cheek sealed until only faint pink lines remained. Strength flooded his limbs.
"Ha… now that feels good," he breathed, flexing his healed hand.
[Fortunate find—you just used a Rank-7 Recovery Potion.]
A panel blinked open:
[Experience Gained: 10,654,000]
[Points Earned: 106,540,000]
[Level Up! Current Level: 40]
Airen stared. "How did I get so much?"
[You killed 10,654 rats. Each one yielded a thousand experience and ten thousand points,] the System answered.
Airen chuckled, exhausted but pleased. "Well… I earned it after all that."
He glanced at the chest again, eyes alight with curiosity despite the smoke-tinged air. "And there's still more treasure in here," he said, lips curling into a smile. "Can't wait to see what else you're hiding."