The adventurer at the bottom is fantasizing again.

A cold glint flashed.

The rusty sword sliced ​​into the rat's neck, and before the giant rat could even squeak, its head rolled to the ground.

Lorraine grabbed the rat by the hair on its head and ran towards the weeds.

This rat seemed to be of high status; several large rats that had escaped from the fence did not immediately chase after it, but instead circled around the corpse.

One of them went up and sniffed it, then suddenly raised its head and let out a sharp, long screech.

Lorraine was startled.

He killed the leader? Is this some kind of rampage...?

Without thinking twice, he took advantage of the lull and plopped down in the weeds, lifting his leg to check his injury.

The two bloody holes on his calves were still oozing blood; they were from the rat that had attacked him earlier. He quickly focused his mind and activated the Burning Word Ring on his finger.

[Treatment for minor injuries]

A warm yellow light emanated from his palm, covering the wound like lukewarm water.

A tingling, itchy sensation surged from deep within the skin and flesh. The bleeding quickly stopped, and the edges of the wound began to close up.

Within a few breaths, the pain disappeared, leaving only a slight, dull ache.

I probably won't have time to treat minor injuries next, so I might as well treat my calf now so it will be more flexible when I stretch it.

Lorraine looked down at the rat head in her hand and used her fur perception to see if there was any useful information.

[Mouse fur, male, approximately five to ten years old, regularly groomed its fur, deceased]

Damn it, it's completely useless!

He tossed the rat's head aside and stood up, supporting himself on his knees.

Outside the weeds, the giant rats had finished their mourning and were all looking in his direction.

The leading group's noses twitched, trying to catch his scent, and they happened to meet his gaze.

The swarm of rats immediately sprang into action.

Lorraine continued running deeper into the grass, the stalks of grass scraping against his leather armor with a crackling sound.

He had to lure all the rats in and outrun them to make sure the fire wouldn't burn him.

The squeaking behind him grew closer and closer. Lorraine glanced back and saw that the one in front had caught up to within several dozen steps.

"Come on, you beast!" he cursed, quickening his pace even further.

The thicket of weeds suddenly ended.

Lorraine lost her footing and nearly fell to the ground.

Ahead was a clearing that had been trodden by people, surrounded by a sparse grove of trees, where Old Hunter was standing.

The old man, holding a ceramic jar, was staring at him with wide eyes when he heard the sound coming from the bushes. He became so nervous that his hands trembled.

"You actually came?" Lorraine exclaimed in surprise.

He just wanted to get rid of the other person so that he wouldn't be a burden, but he didn't expect that the person would actually bring back kerosene.

"I...I went back to get something." Old Hunter stammered, holding up the earthenware jar in his hand. "Oil! Didn't you say you wanted oil? I brought it for you..."

Lorraine took the earthenware jar and weighed it in his hand. There were at least five or six pounds of kerosene inside, and the spout was stuffed with a strip of cloth, which was also wet with oil.

Old Hunter pointed to the strip of cloth, trembling, and said, "My son wants to be an adventurer, so I learned a little bit, thinking I'd teach him later."

"Back up! Back up further away!"

Lorraine picked up the jar and forcefully pulled out the stopper.

The pungent smell of oil filled his nostrils. He rushed forward a few steps with the can in hand and splashed it forcefully at the edge of the patch of weeds.

The yellowish-black oil drew an arc in the air, splashing onto the dry grass and even hitting a fast-running rat.

The rat smelled something amiss and instinctively tried to shrink back, but the giant rat behind it surged forward, pushing it forward.

Lorraine raised his hand, and flames ignited from his palm, reflected in his pupils.

"Feel the flames, you beasts!"

As he pressed his palm forward, the weeds burst into flames the moment they were touched, which then spread and ignited the oil.

A wave of heat hit him, and Lorraine instinctively leaned back, but the heat still made him squint.

That was so refreshing.

He absolutely loved the feeling of burning everything to ashes.

The giant rats that had just rushed into the oil field didn't even have time to react before the oil on their fur was immediately ignited.

"Squeak squeak squeak squeak—"

Several of them that rushed forward instantly turned into moving fireballs, their screams piercing the ears.

They rolled around on the spot, trying to put out the fire, but the surrounding area was full of weeds, so the fire only grew bigger and bigger.

A strong, acrid smell, mixed with the odor of burnt fur, filled the air.

Lorraine raised his sword and sent away a giant rat that had escaped. Looking at its charred fur, he felt a pang of regret.

He remembered that the tailor shop bought furs, but these were probably unsellable; he'd lost a lot of money.

Old Hunter stood fearfully beside Lorraine, staring blankly at the raging fire before him, then whispered, "Won't the fire...will it burn my house?"

Lorraine squinted and looked over. Old Hunter's house was not far from the barn; it was a two-story wooden cabin.

"No," he said. "The hay only burns brightly for a moment, then it goes out very quickly."

Old Hunter nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite.

Although I didn't know what combustibles were, I was sure what the adults said was true.

Lorraine picked up his longsword again, rusted his throat, and walked towards the fire.

"Sir, where are you going?!" Old Hunter asked in confusion.

"Finish off."

Lorraine bypassed the most intensely burning area and approached the still convulsing giant rats from the side.

The giant rats lay on the ground in various positions, some still squeaking, others already burned to a crisp.

Lorraine dodged the flames and stepped forward.

Those who died from the fire, give them two more blows.

Those who weren't burned to death, give them three more blows.

He walked along, his movements calm and mechanical.

When he returned to Old Hunter's side, his trousers were covered in blood and ash, and his leather armor was charred and discolored.

"They...they're all dead?" Old Hunter swallowed hard.

"More or less."

Lorraine let out a soft breath.

He even vaguely recalled the days when he used to play games and last-hit minions.

Just as Lorraine had said.

The fire burned brighter and brighter, then died out even faster, leaving only the oil burning forlornly on the scorched ground.

More than twenty charred corpses lay scattered on the ground, emitting a strange, meaty aroma.

"Sir, since I finally helped you burn these beasts to death, can I be considered an adventurer?" Old Hunter scratched his head and smiled sheepishly.

"Haha, of course." Lorraine chuckled; this little old man was quite interesting.

He bent down and examined the corpse on the ground, trying to see if there was anything of value left.

"Hey! Now I can finally show off to that brat..."

After searching for a long time, Lorraine still couldn't figure out what use these burnt things could be, and could only sigh and stand up.

"What a pity."

Then he noticed that there were two arrows stuck in old Hunter's emaciated body.

The arrow pierced his chest, its shaft crossed, and the feathers on the shaft trembled slightly in the wind.

Old Hunter stared blankly at the arrow in his chest, raising his hand to try and grab it, but he no longer had the strength.

He slowly fell forward.

Only one thought flashed through Lorraine's mind.

"Damn it, this whole trip was for nothing!"