The group advanced in silence along the narrow trail toward Hill Village, the next village that would most likely become the rats’ next victim.

The dirt road wound between gentle hills, covered in tall grass and wildflowers swaying in the afternoon breeze.

The path was uneven, with loose stones and exposed roots that demanded careful footing with every step.

The village was still close to the forest, surrounded by farmland with a plentiful supply of food and resources that the Rat King and his horde would undoubtedly want to consume.

Fields of golden wheat swayed in the wind, while small apple and pear orchards bore nearly ripe fruit, a feast for any hungry creature, especially for a monster that needed every kind of energy to feed its subordinates.

The scent of fertile soil and sweet fruit blended with the fresh air, creating a deceptively peaceful atmosphere.

The midday sun filtered through the treetops, casting golden patches across the packed earth.

The air was warm, filled with the scent of dry grass and wildflowers, yet there was a tension hanging over the surroundings, a strange stillness that made the birds sing less and the insects buzz more quietly.

Clavor led the way, one hand always close to the hilt of his sword. His brown eyes swept across the landscape with the vigilance of a man already prepared to face any battle.

The scar on his cheek seemed more pronounced beneath the sunlight, as though the memory of old battles awakened with the approach of a new threat.

Master Thorne walked just behind him, carrying a heavy leather bag filled with earth crystals and vials of fire catalysts.

The weight caused his shoulders to stoop slightly, but he never complained. His light blue eyes remained fixed on the path ahead, calculating distances and evaluating the terrain.

From time to time, he stopped to examine the ground, touching the soil with his fingers as though listening to something no one else could perceive.

Lukas walked beside Tilbo, the giant ant moving with surprising agility for its size.

Its metallic carapace gleamed beneath the sunlight, while its antennae moved constantly, sensing the scents and vibrations of its surroundings. PRata moved through the shadows beneath the trees, its silver body almost invisible among the trunks. Astra still perched on Lukas’s shoulder, her golden eyes alert as her head turned toward every sound.

When they reached the village, the scene was already desolate.

Many houses had already been abandoned, their doors left half-open and their windows hastily boarded shut.

Some doors bore fresh claw marks, deep gouges carved into the wood as though something had tried to force its way inside.

Others stood completely open, swaying in the wind with a sad, monotonous creak. The scent of abandonment lingered in the air, dust, damp wood.

Only a few stubborn villagers were still gathering their belongings, carrying baskets and sacks toward makeshift wagons. An elderly woman held a chicken tightly against her chest, her eyes glistening with tears as she whispered comforting words to the animal.

A man carried a shovel, as though he still hoped to defend his home. Children clung to their parents’ hands, their eyes wide with fear.

Clavor quickly issued orders for his men to assist with the final evacuation. His voice echoed through the village’s main street, firm and commanding.

"Everyone out! Take only the essentials. The village isn’t safe. Come back once the danger has passed."

Tonight, this village would most likely become a battlefield.

Clavor and the others would remain there to protect it and prevent the rats from advancing any farther beyond the forest. Clavor feared the rats would destroy this village and move closer to the Dmond Manor. The thought of Aurora and Judite being in danger was a silent motivation burning within his chest.

"Master Thorne, the defenses are yours," Clavor said, pointing toward the village’s perimeter.

"We need something solid. Two days. We only need to hold out for two days, then Count Hark will arrive with his soldiers."

Master Thorne nodded, his light blue eyes shining with determination. As a mage specializing in Earth and Fire magic, he was perfectly suited for this kind of static defense.

"I’ll begin with the wall." The old mage announced as he positioned himself at the village’s eastern boundary.

Thorne planted his feet firmly on the ground, driving his carved staff into the damp earth. The wood of the staff was dark, polished smooth from years of use, with runes engraved across its surface that glowed faintly with residual mana.

The staff seemed to vibrate with an energy of its own, as though awakening after a long slumber. It was a magical artifact.

He closed his eyes and began chanting in a low, deep voice that reverberated like colliding stones.

The words were unfamiliar to Lukas, spoken and enunciated in a language he did not recognize, filled with Thorne’s power and intent.

His hands rose into the air, his fingers tracing complex runes before him. The mana responded immediately. The air grew heavier, denser, and a subterranean vibration rippled through the ground.

The earth trembled slightly, and with a deep rumble, the ground began to rise.

Lukas watched with his mouth hanging open.

Before his eyes, a wall of compacted earth emerged from the ground, rising roughly two and a half meters high and stretching along the village’s perimeter. The soil moved like water, flowing upward, compressing itself, hardening.

The process was slow at first, then gradually accelerated, as though the earth itself were responding to an ancient command.

Thorne’s Earth magic was dense and stable. The wall was not made of loose soil but of magically compacted earth, hardened like reinforced sun-dried brick.

Fine cracks appeared across its surface, through which Thorne infused veins of fire mana. The flames did not burn the structure but instead sealed it, creating a hard outer crust resistant to impact.

Gradually, a reinforced earthen wall was erected as Thorne channeled increasing amounts of mana.