Lukas clenched his fists beneath the table. Curiosity burned like fire in his chest.

’A high-rank monster...’

Something capable of threatening an entire village, of making his father, the imposing Clavor Dmond, ask for outside help. He imagined enormous creatures, shadows in the darkness. He wanted to see it, understand it, maybe even help.

"Is Father going to face it? Alone until the count arrives?"

"Not alone, but he will lead the defenses until then." Aurora said, noticing the gleam in her son’s eyes. She knew that look. Lukas would not rest until he learned more.

"Wait for your father to return and ask him directly. Clavor will explain better what kind of being is in the forest. For now, obey. Do not go to Forest Village in the next few days. Stay here, safe, with Tilbo, Prata, and Astra."

Lukas nodded, but his mind was already far away.

He finished breakfast in silence, helping clear the dishes before heading upstairs again.

Meanwhile, in Forest Village, Clavor Dmond supervised the evacuation with calm but firm authority.

The morning sun beat strongly against his weathered face, highlighting old scars and the fresh scratches from the previous night. Golden light fell across his broad shoulders, casting an imposing shadow upon the dirt ground.

He wore a reinforced tunic beneath his cloak, layers of leather and thick fabric that offered protection without sacrificing mobility. His greatsword rested sheathed at his side, ready for any threat.

The villagers carried their belongings in carts and baskets. Clothes, tools, pots, some small animals, chickens in wooden cages, a young goat tied to a rope. Children cried while clinging tightly to their mothers’ arms. Men pushed creaking carts, the wheels groaning under the weight.

Harlan, still wrapped in bandages, helped however he could, limping between the wooden and straw houses. His right arm was immobilized, and a bandage covered part of his face, but he never stopped working, carrying baskets, directing neighbors, calming the more nervous villagers.

The air was heavy with worried murmurs and the smell of disturbed earth. Dust rose from the carts, painting the sky in shades of brown.

"Maintain order!" Clavor commanded, his deep voice echoing through the main street.

"No one gets left behind. The neighboring villages are prepared to receive you. Food, shelter, and protection."

An elderly man approached, leaning on a wooden cane. His white beard trembled slightly, and his eyes were watery.

"Lord Clavor... and our homes? Our crops?"

"They’ll still be here when you return." He replied, placing a heavy hand on the old man’s shoulder.

"Better to lose a few days of work than lives. The danger is contained in the deep forest for now, but do not take risks."

He paused, looking into the worried eyes of the villager.

"I promise you will return."

Clavor remained in the village even after the last carts departed. He patrolled the surroundings, his brown eyes sweeping across the distant trees. At one point, he thought he heard a faint chittering sound, but nothing appeared. No giant rats attacked.

He sighed, easing some of the tension in his broad shoulders.

"In the coming days, I’ll return with a larger group." He murmured to himself, wiping sweat from his forehead after standing beneath the sun.

"We’ll annihilate the horde and the King. Only then will the people be able to return to normal life."

The sun climbed high, then slowly began to descend. Clavor helped reinforce several abandoned doors before finally mounting his horse and returning to the manor.

Back at Dmond Manor, Lukas spent the day at home, obeying his mother despite his impatience.

He played in the garden with Astra, who was now flying short distances with her wing still protected. The little eagle landed on his shoulder with increasing confidence, gently pecking his ear as a form of play. Her feathers looked brighter, and her golden eyes shone with renewed energy.

"I wonder if you’ll give me an ability too, just like Tilbo and Prata..." Lukas murmured, stroking the bird’s golden feathers as he sat on the grass. The afternoon sun warmed his face, and a gentle breeze swayed the surrounding flowers.

Tilbo watched from afar, his metallic carapace gleaming beneath the light. Prata spun a delicate web between the trees, the silvery threads capturing the sunlight like tiny rainbows.

"I don’t know exactly how it works... but I hope so. It would be amazing to fly with you, Astra. Although I don’t have wings to fly... would I grow wings?"

The eagle chirped in response, as if she understood. Lukas laughed, tossing pieces of dried meat that she snatched from the air with precision.

Time passed slowly, but his curiosity did not diminish.

By late afternoon, when the sun painted the sky orange and pink, Lukas stood at the main hall’s window, his eyes fixed on the road. His small hands rested on the stone windowsill, and his breath was held.

The moment he saw Clavor’s imposing silhouette approaching on horseback, his heart quickened.

"Father!" He shouted, running outside at full speed. His small feet kicked up dust as he crossed the courtyard.

Clavor dismounted, seeing the anxious expression on his son’s face. A faint smile appeared on his tired features, softening the harsh lines of exhaustion.

"If you want to know what I found in the forest, come with me." He said before Lukas could even open his mouth.

"We’re going to see Master Thorne. I need his help with something. I’ll explain there."

Lukas blinked in surprise, but silently followed his father through the manor.

’Why the retired mage?’

Thorne taught Judite, but he rarely involved himself in family matters.

They walked through the wide corridors until they reached one of the guest rooms at the end of the hallway. The dark wooden door was closed, but a faint light shone beneath it.

Clavor knocked firmly.

"Master Thorne. It’s me, Clavor."

An elderly voice, hoarse but steady, answered from inside.

"Come in."

Clavor opened the door.

The room was illuminated by candles and a small window. Master Thorne sat in a comfortable dark wooden chair, dressed in a faded blue mage’s robe.

His long white beard reached his navel, and his pale blue eyes shone with the wisdom of decades of study. Aromatic smoke rose from a pipe in his hand, filling the air with a sweet herbal scent Lukas did not recognize, something between lavender and cinnamon.

The old mage raised his wrinkled eyes, greeting them with a nod.

"Young Lukas. Lord Clavor. What brings you here at this hour? Judite’s lesson already ended today."

Clavor closed the door behind him and sighed, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"I need your help eliminating a monster that has appeared within my territory." He said, his voice deep.

"Of course, it won’t be for free. I’ll pay extra for your services."

Thorne frowned, releasing a puff of smoke.

"You know I’m retired, don’t you?"

"I know." Clavor replied seriously.

"But you’ll be of great help, even retired. I don’t expect you to kill the monster alone, but your magic and knowledge would be invaluable. I’ll pay double your usual salary."

The mage thought for a long moment, his sharp eyes studying Clavor. Smoke from the pipe rose in slow spirals. Finally, he nodded slowly.

"Very well. What kind of monster are we talking about?"

Clavor glanced at Lukas, who was listening attentively nearby, and began to explain in detail.

"A Rat King."

The name echoed through the room, laden with meaning and danger.