NOVPUB
Chapter 318: 318
Outside, the faint traces of ratmen civilization started to emerge from the darkness. The air was thicker here, musty and heavy with the weight of stone and earth pressing down from above. The ratmen had carved out small, makeshift homes and workshops into the tunnel walls. Pipes, made from metal scraps, weaved through the stone like veins, carrying heated steam to warm their living spaces and power their crude inventions.
These rudimentary technologies were the earliest signs of a steampunk society beginning to take shape. The ratmen, though ingenious in their adaptation to the underground, had only just begun to harness the power of steam. Their forges were small and isolated, hidden deep within their burrows to avoid filling their narrow homes with smoke and fumes. Small, sputtering engines powered crude mechanical tools, but it seems they understood the risk of contamination and illness so they kept their experiments on a modest scale. They relied on natural ventilation systems, carefully crafted by the more forward-thinking engineers among them, to keep the air breathable in their subterranean cities.
While there were no vast factories, small workstations could be found nestled into the walls, dimly lit by flickering lanterns fueled by whatever resources they had managed to extract from the earth. The ratmen were builders, scavengers, and survivors. Their resourcefulness allowed them to create crude steam-powered carts for transporting goods through the tunnels, and in some places, simple mechanical elevators moved between levels in their underground network.
The glowing eyes of ratmen scurried in the darkness, their wiry frames moving swiftly from one tunnel to the next. Despite the harsh conditions, there was an undeniable sense of progress. They tinkered with gears and pipes, always seeking to improve, but their work was limited by their environment.
Inside the carriage, Keles studied Ikenga as he moved his piece across the board. "It’s truly fascinating" she said softly, her eyes glinting. "They’re on the verge of something greater, but they’re held back by their own limitations. If they continue like this, it’s only a matter of time before their experiments put them in real danger."
Keles leaned back in her seat, her focus shifting from the chessboard to the flickering lanterns outside. "They’ve managed to survive this long, though it’s more out of necessity than innovation. If they keep pushing steam power without refining their methods, their entire society might suffocate under its own fumes."
Ikenga didn’t look up from the chessboard, but his voice was thoughtful. "True. But necessity breeds innovation. They’re reaching a crossroads. Steam may be their escape from the limitations of mana in these tunnels—or it may be their undoing." He made his move, capturing one of Keles’s knights. "Our presence will influence that choice."
Keles smirked. "You sound as if you care for their future."
He looked up at her, his eyes calm. "It’s not about caring. it’s about granting them a way out from their doomed existence and at the same time having their goal align with our own purpose"
The carriage continued to glide soundlessly through the underground, invisible to the ratmen who toiled away, unaware of the gods passing so close to them. As they drew closer to their destination, the tunnel began to widen, revealing more of the ratmen’s hidden society. Small outposts and crude guard stations lined the walls, though the ratmen there stood relaxed, unaware of the invisible visitors approaching.
The carriage moved silently as Keles gestured toward a nearby patch of small, pale plants growing from a mound of refuse. Their fragile, translucent leaves seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. Ikenga’s gaze followed her gesture, his divinity allowing him to discern that these plants did not naturally belong in this environment but had been intentionally planted. Despite that, they had adapted well, thriving without the need for sunlight.
He extended his senses toward the plant, noting with curiosity how it seemed to respond, shifting slightly as if acknowledging his presence. Ikenga nodded, brushing it with his essence, learning the secrets of its growth. He sensed the faint but steady flow of mana that seeped through the cavern, which had allowed the plant to survive and evolve in these hostile conditions.
Turning his attention away, Ikenga’s one golden-green eye glowed softly as he gazed out toward the settlement. In the distance, ratmen rummaged through piles of waste, occasionally uncovering a seed, which they handled with great care, preserving it as though it were a treasure. His senses extended further, reaching out to all the plants within the settlement. He could feel countless seeds lying dormant in the soil, their potential stifled even in the presence of mana.
"This won’t sustain them for generations," Ikenga murmured, his eyes closed as he concentrated. "The changes in these plants are random, chaotic, not controlled. I see no organized farming, no methodical cultivation of these crops beyond the fungi they tend to. There’s no way they’ve survived this long on such meager resources."
Opening his eyes, Ikenga’s brows raised slightly as his senses picked up familiar figures. He relayed a silent message to Vaegur, who, alongside Lavderh, moved toward the group Ikenga had detected. The scent of blood grew heavier as they approached.
In the distance, Ikenga could make out the figures of the ratmen who had saved the one he had marked from the massive boar. The group known as Scraps and Flint. Their woman leader had eluded Ikenga’s attention previously, but now she stood among them, overseeing their haul. Ikenga observed that this group, like many others, carried prey, freshly killed.
It clicked into place for Ikenga then: their survival wasn’t reliant solely on the plants. They had burrowed tunnels that led to the surface, where they hunted. And conveniently, there was a forest not far from their hidden city. The ratmen must have been surviving on the spoils of the surface for generations.
Their hunting prowess had only grown with their technological advancements. Ikenga recalled the steam-powered weapons and tools they had used to fell the magical boar—steam-powered boots, gauntlets, rifles, and even a mana disruptor bomb. True to his earlier thoughts, other hunting groups were equipped with similar devices, their weapons refined to face the dangerous creatures of the surface.
Ikenga smiled faintly. "It seems they’ve found a balance between scavenging and hunting. But the strain is evident. Their technology may give them an edge, but it’s only a matter of time before the demands of survival outstrip their resources." He leaned back, watching with keen interest as the ratmen carried their hard-earned prey, completely unaware of how closely they were being observed.
Keles, like Ikenga, was looking through the settlement in her own way "I sense souls in the millions, in just this settlement. If they continue their growth, sooner or later it will weigh heavily on them"
The cut-up prey can be seen carried away to what seems to be a kitchen. A look into the kitchen reveals huge pots, the size of a room, boiling and being filled with meat and fungi.
The teamwork displayed shows how long they have been doing this, as ratmen can be seen filling up plates, which are then carried to what appears to be a delivery vehicle, distributing food throughout the entire settlement.
Vaegur had long since parked the carriage, and like Keles and Ikenga, he, too, was captivated by the sight of the ratmen moving and working together. It was truly a beautiful scene, seeing an entire race united with one purpose: survival.
Occasionally, explosions could be heard from the distant workshop, but none of the common ratmen seemed to react strongly. Instead, they all went about their tasks as if it were entirely normal.
The female leader began to move, drawing the attention of Ikenga and Keles as they watched her carry a plate of food. She was soon joined by ratmen who weren’t part of her group but seemed to hold positions of power, just like her.
They all had the same destination—a building on the outskirts of the settlement. When they arrived, the door was opened by a ratman who appeared to have been waiting for them.
Inside the dimly lit chamber, the ratmen in positions of authority gathered around a large stone table. The female leader, still holding her plate of food, was the first to take a seat. Her presence commanded respect—her calm and steady demeanor, combined with the scars and trophies that adorned her body, marked her as a veteran of countless hunts and skirmishes. The other ratmen, representing various factions within the settlement, trickled in behind her, each with their own plates, each taking their places around the table in a practiced, silent ritual.
The room itself was stark, carved from the stone of the cavern, illuminated only by the dim, flickering light of lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The walls were lined with crude maps of the settlement, marking the hunting grounds above and the deeper tunnels that extended beneath the earth. There were diagrams of their steam-powered contraptions, lists of resources, and pinned reports of previous hunts.
