Talent Awakening: I, the Weakest Awakened, Start with Dragonfire Spell

Chapter 468 469-Battle with the Wolfrats

Meanwhile, outside Rodel City, within two small hills as indicated on the map, Howard had arrived near the habitat of the wolfrats.

The taller hill was named "Taso," and the shorter "Tami."

Currently, Howard was in a valley on Taso.

Though referred to as "small hills," they were not short by any measure, with relative elevations reaching hundreds of meters and extending for several kilometers, making them more akin to a series of elevated lands than mere hills.

The vegetation here was lush, unlike the predominantly herbaceous plants found in the plains, with many tall trees scattered throughout.

Wolfrats, a social and predatory species, had little sense of territory, inhabiting valleys that also served as the overlapping territories of several low-tier spellbeasts.

Despite their individual weakness, through unity, cunning, and recklessness, the wolfrats carved out a niche for themselves in a fertile valley, thriving and multiplying.

The information on the quest was, in fact, outdated.

The quest had been posted for a while, likely over a month.

But even in just a month, given the wolfrats' rapid breeding capabilities, they could produce a new generation, with some individuals nearing maturity.

So, when Howard approached the valley, he didn't find the seven to twelve wolfrats mentioned in the quest, but a massive group of over twenty.

If the quest remained unclaimed, in half a year, the wolfrats could completely overrun the valley and begin to expand further.

By that point, the problem would surpass what a preparatory-level magus could handle.

If Howard were indeed just a preparatory-level magus, he might be contemplating whether to retreat at this moment.

Amidst the moonlight, wolfrats become more active than during the day, as deep night and early morning are their prime times for activity.

Although they move around at other times, they seldom wander under direct sunlight due to their aversion to it.

Now, Howard's primary concern was how to negotiate a higher reward for the quest.

Hunting quests like this one don't typically offer adventurers much room to haggle, unlike tasks of a more laborious nature.

Yet, the idea of exerting extra effort without an increase in pay left him feeling uneasy.

Perhaps he could leverage the additional wolfrat carcasses to his advantage?

With this thought, Howard's hand gripped the hilt of the straight sword on his back, slowly drawing it from its sheath.

The sound of the blade sliding out was prolonged and gravelly, gleaming under the moonlight.

Like the Ripper Mk II, this sword was another masterpiece by Greg.

Stepping out from the concealment of shadows, Howard's gaze drifted towards the source of the rustling noises deep within the valley.

One pair, two pairs, three pairs...

Dozens of crimson eyes gradually lit up in the darkness.

The shrill cries of the beasts exploded through the air.

Wolfrats, a subspecies of spellbeasts, can weigh over seven kilograms as adults, with speeds matching those of mountain cats, bite forces surpassing wolves of equivalent weight, and lengths ranging from one to one and a half meters.

Nocturnal by nature, they don't enter deep sleep during the day, remaining alert and energetic.

These social creatures typically have a rat king in each colony, whose strength is comparable to that of a low-tier spellbeast, capable of using mana to accelerate.

Covered in grey, they are also known as "greyfangs."

In many regions, wolfrats are considered more fearsome than wolves and tigers.

They are omnivorous, daring to consume anything and everything.

For ordinary people, encountering more than three wolfrats in the wild is a fact more terrifying than coming face to face with wolves or tigers.

Experienced hunters understand that although wolves and tigers are fearsome, the pain from their attacks is brief.

Wolfrats, however, are different.

Smaller in size but more ferocious in nature, they swarm their prey, biting frenziedly.

The agony of being torn apart persists until the moment one breathes their last.

With a flick of his wrist, Howard's straight sword danced, spinning a flower of silver blades, its petals the brightest in the dark.

The wolfrats did not initiate an attack.

Dozens of crimson eyes glittered in the darkness, hesitating, assessing.

Wolfrats possess an extraordinary intelligence, not just in survival and hunting but in many other aspects.

They could sense the abundant mana within Howard and acutely perceive the vast disparity in individual strength, understanding clearly that zero individuals could stand against Howard on their own.

It was this keen intuition that had made them the rulers of this valley.

So they gathered, then dispersed.

Individuals coalesced into a group, countless groups forming a larger whole.

They created an encirclement, silencing their sounds and footsteps, retracting their fangs and claws, using the dim moonlight to cloak their forms.

Bit by bit.

Ever so slowly, they drew closer, aiming to seize the initiative at the moment of attack, to choke their opponent's throat at the first wave of assault.

The valley fell silent, save for the faint whisper of the wind, but this did not signify the end of the battle.

On the contrary, it was the rare calm before a storm.

Howard realized he had underestimated these little creatures that had managed to establish themselves here.

While the combat strength of an individual might not match even that of a dog, their collective force could indeed become a deluge that drowns the world.

Mana sensing expanded outward, enhancing Howard's senses under its stimulus.

He could hear the subtler sounds of the wind, even the rustling of grass leaves; he could see fainter glimmers of light, including the transient red sparks in the underbrush; he could smell more complex scents, like the faint bloodiness mingling with the aroma of green grass and earthy musk.

The traces of the wolfrats were laid bare under his perception.

The battle was lost by the wolfrats before it even began.

Yet, the necessary rituals could not be omitted, as a form of reverence for the natural balance.

Thus, Howard stood silently in place, waiting until the first attack descended.

The shriek from the beast's mouth, the scratching sound of its claws against the ground, the slight noise as its fur broke through the air—all these complex signals flooded Howard's brain in a short span, accepted without restriction, processed at astonishing speed, and ultimately synthesized into outcomes.

He closed his eyes.

A colorless panoramic view unfolded before Howard.

Advance half a step, turn and swing the sword, the blade forming a forty-degree angle with the ground, unleash two-

thirds of the arm's strength.

Like the information panel in an MMO, countless battle-related messages flashed through Howard's mind—calculated, integrated, utilized, and then formed into new data.

In this peculiar state, Howard couldn't exactly describe his sensations, almost losing his sense of self amid the deluge of internal and external data inundating his consciousness.

Yet, this was a feeling more exhilarating than any climax, with every element of the battlefield now firmly within Howard's grasp.

He might not comprehend the signals exchanged among the wolfrats, but by observing each creature's distinct movements and postures, he could predict the entire pack's movements with prophetic clarity.

This went beyond "Hyperawareness," pushing Howard further into an extraordinary abyss.

He didn't understand how it all happened; he merely expanded his mana to enhance his perception, and then, like waves, more information surged in.

Now, Howard was the deity of this battlefield.

The blade, infused with mana, glowed faintly.

The mana blade wasn't activated, but the sheer sharpness of the sword itself was wholly sufficient.

Wolfrats continued their fearless assault, even as more than ten of their number lay dead at Howard's feet.

The rat king had yet to join the fray, blending into the swarm, meticulously studying Howard's every move, trying to analyze any vulnerability.

Although Howard couldn't make direct eye contact, he sensed its distinctiveness through its actions.

Smarter, stronger—these were the minimal requirements for an exceptional ruler.

In the natural selection where only the victors survive, such a king always signifies the rise of its species.

For humanity, this was no good news.

More and more wolfrats seemed to emerge from nowhere, and Howard had a vague feeling there was something more behind this, but it was merely an intuition, hardly even evidence.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen...

Howard silently counted both the number of wolfrats and their attacks.

The former steadily decreased, while the latter's increment gradually diminished.

With casualties surpassing two-thirds, the wolfrats still pressed their attack—a scenario utterly inconceivable for human armies.

Why such desperation? Why persist in futility without repentance?

Even if only half survived, that would be sufficient for them to seek a new habitat.

Yet, they did not choose this path; instead, they bravely faced their ferocity, lying in a mix of shrieks and blood upon the ground after the battle.

In the end, only the rat king remained before Howard.

The strongest individual had yet to make a move.

It had seen through the inevitable course of the battle from the beginning.

This was a futile struggle, yet absolutely necessary.