The Guardian gods

Chapter 399: 399

A dry, almost mirthless chuckle escaped Ikenga’s lips. "It’s rare something surprises me as thoroughly as this," he murmured to himself, the sound barely audible in the carriage. "And quite... interesting. To think I could entertain such... mortal thoughts." The idea that he, an origin god, could be so easily swayed by the echoes of a past life, by biases he had consciously rejected, was humbling.

The chuckle turned into a low, rumbling laugh, tinged with self-deprecation. "Perhaps this is the true curse of greed," he muttered, "not the desire for material wealth, but the insatiable hunger for certainty, for control. A hunger that blinds you to your own flaws, that convinces you of your own infallibility." He shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "It seems we may have taken to lightly of these sin we bore as Origin gods"

Shaking his head, dismissing the aimless thoughts that had plagued him, Ikenga considered apologizing to Keles. A part of him yearned to mend the rift he had created, but another, more pragmatic part hesitated. He worried that a direct apology might undermine the lesson he was trying to impart. It could be perceived as weakness, as a retraction of his stance. He didn’t want to invalidate her experience, but he also didn’t want her to misinterpret his regret as a license to disregard the importance of self-control.

Suddenly, a better idea struck him. A more nuanced approach, one that would acknowledge his own failings while still reinforcing the core message. It would take time and careful planning to execute, but he felt a spark of hope that it could bridge the gap between them without compromising his principles. For now, however, that would have to wait. There were more pressing matters at hand.

His focus shifted to the marked ratman. He had a premonition, a subtle tremor in the threads of fate, that the ratman’s life was about to undergo a significant change. It was a change that would have ripples, affecting not only the ratman himself but the world around him. Ikenga decided to observe, to watch as this new Chapter unfolded.

Meanwhile, in a small, cramped dwelling nestled within the barn, the marked ratman, Rattan, watched over a wounded companion. His eyes, usually filled with a weary resignation, now held a flicker of fascination. The ratman lying on the makeshift bed was unlike any he had ever seen. He was larger, more powerfully built, a veritable giant among their kind. Muscles rippled beneath his coarse fur, and his features, though still rat-like, possessed a rugged strength that was both intimidating and strangely inspiring. Beside the bed lay the strange, intricate steam-powered contraptions that had accompanied the newcomer.

Rattan had taken a considerable risk to rescue this ratman, a risk that could have cost him his own life. Yet, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction. It was a small victory against their oppressors, a defiant act of rebellion in a world that sought to crush them. And it was also a way of repaying the debt he owed to the fellow ratman who had once saved him from a similar fate.

Looking at the burly ratman, whom he had learned was called Chief, Rattan’s mind drifted back to their brief, chaotic escape. It had been a whirlwind of frantic running, narrow escapes, and desperate acts of courage. Chief, even in his injured state, had been a force of nature, tearing through their pursuers with a ferocity that Rattan had never witnessed before. The memory brought a small smile to Rattan’s face. He had found a kindred spirit, a beacon of hope in the darkness that had enveloped their lives. He hoped that Chief would recover soon, so they could continue their journey, whatever it might be.

This had all happened a few days prior. After completing his chores, Rattan had ventured towards the town square. He’d overheard whispers among the mansion’s servants that the mages were preparing for a significant undertaking, that their city would soon be welcoming new residents. As a ratman, and a slave to the goblin nobles, he wasn’t permitted to be in the town square unaccompanied. So, he had found a discreet hiding place, observing the unfolding events from the shadows.

From his vantage point, he witnessed the opening of several shimmering portals. Goblins from other cities began pouring through, a steady stream of new arrivals. Initially, the process was orderly, even slow. The city guards efficiently managed the influx, directing the newcomers and their belongings.

But the scene soon devolved into chaos. The orderly flow of goblins turned into a panicked surge. The expected goods and baggage dwindled, replaced by goblins fleeing through the portals in disarray. The sudden influx of panicked individuals overwhelmed the guards, who struggled to maintain control. Even the city’s residents, who had gathered to witness the spectacle, began to retreat, fearing being swept up in the pandemonium.

For Rattan, the sight was mesmerizing. Such events were rare occurrences, and he couldn’t resist the urge to move closer, despite the potential danger. He watched as the situation spiraled further out of control, until finally, the mages from the tower intervened. A wave of calming magic washed over the square, instantly soothing the panicked crowd. The guards, seizing the opportunity, quickly regained control, and the portals began to close, one by one. It was from one of these final, rapidly shrinking portals that Chief had suddenly emerged, as if flung out by some unseen force.

Chief’s unexpected arrival had drawn the attention of the surrounding guards. With practiced professionalism, they immediately moved to apprehend him. Rattan, startled by Chief’s sudden appearance and the guards’ swift reaction, instinctively closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable brutality. He had witnessed such scenes before, and the memory was enough to fill him with dread.

Then, he heard a distinct thump as something hit the ground, followed by a loud hissing sound. Rattan’s eyes snapped open. Through the dissipating wisps of steam that now billowed around Chief, he saw that Chief had dropped something—something that had instantly created a dense cloud of vapor, obscuring everything from view. The guards hesitated, momentarily blinded and disoriented. It was in that moment of confusion that Rattan knew he had to act.

The steam erupted, a thick, white cloud that billowed outwards, momentarily blinding the guards and creating a chaotic scene. Rattan, seizing the opportunity, darted forward, disappearing into the swirling vapor. The guards, though momentarily disoriented, were not easily deterred. These were elite city guards, enhanced with magical augmentations and trained for swift, decisive action. They quickly regained their bearings, their eyes glowing with faint magical light that pierced through the dissipating steam.

"He’s getting away!" one of them yelled, his voice amplified by a magical enchantment. "After him!"

Chief, using the cover of the steam, had already bolted, his large frame surprisingly agile. He moved with a speed and grace that belied his size, leaping over overturned carts and weaving through the panicked remnants of the crowd. The steam-powered devices strapped to his back hissed and whirred, adding to the cacophony of the scene.

The chase was on. The guards, their movements enhanced by magic, pursued Chief with relentless speed. They vaulted over obstacles with superhuman agility, their footsteps barely making a sound on the cobblestones. The city square, with its intricate network of stalls, fountains, and statues, became a dynamic obstacle course.

Chief, however, was no stranger to navigating tight spaces and treacherous terrain. He leaped from a fruit cart to a nearby awning, using the momentum to swing himself across a narrow alleyway. He landed gracefully on the roof of a small stall, sending tiles cascading to the ground below. The steam tech on his back hissed and sputtered, providing bursts of acceleration that propelled him forward.

The guards, though powerful, were less adept at such acrobatic maneuvers. They were trained for combat, not parkour. One guard, attempting to replicate Chief’s awning jump, misjudged the distance and crashed into a pile of crates, sending apples scattering across the street. Another, attempting to vault over a fountain, stumbled and landed awkwardly, momentarily slowing his pursuit.

Chief took advantage of their momentary setbacks. He sprinted across the rooftops, leaping from one building to another with breathtaking agility. He slid down sloping roofs, using the momentum to propel himself across wider gaps. He even used the steam tech to create short bursts of upward thrust, allowing him to briefly hover in the air before landing gracefully on a distant rooftop.

The chase weaved through the city, from the bustling square to the narrow, winding alleyways. Chief used every element of the urban landscape to his advantage: scaling walls, sliding under carts, and leaping across rooftops. The guards, though still in pursuit, were struggling to keep up with his unconventional movements.

Rattan, despite his smaller stature and lack of enhanced abilities, was determined to keep up. He scrambled through the crowd, dodging panicked citizens and discarded merchandise. He couldn’t match Chief’s impressive leaps and bounds, but he knew the city’s back alleys and hidden pathways like the back of his hand. He used this knowledge to his advantage, cutting through narrow passages and emerging in unexpected places, always trying to keep Chief within sight.