Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

"Yes, my friend needs my help. Ellie, I have to go save him."

Who are Evan's friends?

"It's Lord Purifier. Without him, I probably wouldn't have come back here."

Chapter 250 The Rat King

I don't like Locarrot, even though it's my hometown.

I lived in a noble family in Locarrot. My parents and I were the only boy in the family, so I began learning how to be a nobleman from a very young age. I did well in etiquette classes, but my physical training, such as horseback riding, was less impressive. I loved art, the chirping of birds perched on the eaves, and the sound of the breeze rustling the doorframe.

But Locarrot has no music; it's like a rigid old man, serious and stubborn. The people there are the same; they care more about immediate gains and culinary delights than profound, soul-stirring emotions. There are no artists in Locarrot.

But I was born different. I learned everything about art from the books in my home and from traveling merchants; I was captivated by music simply by hearing their straightforward descriptions. I felt I was born an artist.

I started skipping my tutor's lessons and sketching out my imagined music on paper. At the time, I didn't even know how many notes there were; all I was creating were absurd and comical fantasies.

Locarrot is like a desert of the soul to me, where I endure thirst and a growing longing.

One day, the situation changed.

That day, as usual, I stood on a haystack outside the city of Locarrot, gazing at the approaching carriage. What kind of travelers would emerge from behind the curtain, and what stories would they bring? Thinking this, my interest grew. I danced a few steps on the haystack, improvising, before losing my balance and falling. Straw clung to my body, and I looked away from the verdant distance, focusing on what was in front of me.

A stranger appeared in my sight. He wore a worn-out, faded floral shirt, the tattered fabric making him appear even thinner. His hair and beard were a mess, making him look like a monster from a story, digging for potatoes in a field. His bright eyes, set in his dirty face, showed that, like me, he was startled by my sudden appearance.

Although his appearance was unusual, one cannot judge a book by its cover. He removed his comical, flower-like hat and bowed to me with a gentlemanly air that surpassed his physical appearance. I thought to myself as I returned the bow, "He's a man with a story."

Mr. Inret was a piper. In our subsequent conversation, I learned of his profession: a musician who traveled with his music. When he pulled that beautiful flute from his worn bag, I was almost dizzy with joy. I had once desperately wanted a musical instrument, but when I tried to make one myself, I only produced sticks because I didn't understand how it worked. I begged Mr. Inret to be my teacher, to teach me how to play and the true art of music. He didn't answer immediately, but instead, he put the flute to his lips and played a simple tune.

That was the first thing I had ever heard that could truly be called music. I was captivated by the beautiful melody, like a nourished infant. Inlet became my teacher, and as he said, a child who loves music so much will be blessed by the light of Apollo.

Inlet refused my invitation and chose a hotel in Locarrot as his residence. He wanted to play his flute, see more people's expressions of love for music, and want more praise.

Praise for music was clearly not in Locarrot's sights. That's why I visited him at the inn's stables not long after, but the setbacks didn't deter Rhett's obsession with his dream. He refused my invitation and continued to stubbornly present music to the people of Locarrot, even if it meant living in the stinky stables himself.

He was an artist and a great teacher. Our shared pursuit of art made us close friends, and under his tutelage, I became the first piper born in Locarrot.

Inret and I spent many enjoyable times exploring music. For two years, Inret stubbornly stayed in the darkest corner of the city, playing his music on his instrument. The indifference of people's hearts can destroy all perseverance; our insignificant pursuit was like grains of sand in the desert against the cruel reality.

Inlet gave up; after two years, he had not found a single admirer in Locarrot besides me. He survived two years of poverty, only able to live on my charity.

“I failed, but that’s not a flaw in art, it’s my flaw. My skill alone cannot move them.” Inret’s voice was filled with an indescribable dejection, then he looked at me, and a glimmer of light returned to his eyes. “My friend, I have something to give you.”

Inlet stood on the haystack where we first met and played another piece of music for Locarrot in the afterglow of the setting sun—a special piece.

Even though the melody was familiar, the instruments were the same, and the people were the same, it sounded different.

It was a feeling I can't describe; I felt a tremor from the depths of my heart. The melody carried an incredible magic. That night, the inhabitants of Locarrot danced an unknown dance, coming in droves to the haystacks. They opened their arms, laughing and praising Inlet. They showed humility to the "manure man" they had once jokingly called.

That performance was like a dream. Inlet gave me a secret book, like a sheet music book, on which the title of "The Magic Flute" had been worn white from being rubbed.

Inlet was not only a piper, but also a mystic, a magic flute player. The music he played could control people's minds.

"Why? Inret, you clearly possess this power, yet you still endure their ridicule?"

“What I want is heartfelt praise, not mechanical applause. My friend, you are special. I can feel it from the sincerity in your music. You will change your Locarrot, you will change this barren place of inspiration.”

"This is my gift. Please carry your passion and perfect your music."

That night, while all the residents of Locarrot were discussing the same bizarre dream, I bid farewell to my teacher.

I have no particular feelings about Locarrot. It's as if there's an invisible hand in this city, shaping us into what we don't want to be.

Our family has fallen on hard times. The rapid decline in our circumstances caused my parents health problems. They were bedridden for years, and I, who should have been the pillar of the family, was still immersed in the illusions left behind by Inlet. Like him, I spent my days rushing among people, hoping that my music could change the lives of my compatriots. My sister had to shoulder the family responsibility; she cared for our parents, worked as a maid to support the family, and earnestly advised me to face reality. However, the reality was that we couldn't make ends meet. My sister sold off the family's wealth, but in the end, my parents didn't make it.

In Locarrot, there exists a peculiar trade. Here, noble surnames and status can be traded; some fallen nobles survive by trading their surnames with wealthy merchants. To pay for our parents' funerals, my sister sold our surname, and we became ghosts of Locarrot. That night, we stood for a long time before our parents, my sister weeping in my arms. She never blamed me, repeatedly lamenting to our parents that she had failed to uphold the family's honor.

I realized it was time to wake up from the dream.

I found a job and lived with my sister, relying on each other for support. The flute I made myself was placed in the far corner of the cabinet, never to be taken out again. I had thought about playing a tune when I was tired, but I was afraid that my repressed soul would make me play with the same abandon as before.

After five years of hardship, things seemed to be moving in a positive direction. My sister got a marriage proposal from a businessman, and when he came to visit, I saw some unpleasant emotions in his eyes. After I became a piper, my eyes developed some strange abilities.

I told my sister what I had discovered, hoping she would refuse.

My sister looked at me. Her once bright blonde hair had turned yellow and withered. Tears seemed to have left two marks on her cheeks. Her skin was no longer fair, and her palms had calluses just like those of a peasant woman.

“No, I can’t refuse him. Brother, this is our only chance to make our lives better.”

"Why are you doing this? It will never make things better! For your own sake, my sister, please refuse him!"

My sister gave me a smile that tore my heart apart, her rough hands stroking my face. "You must get married, little brother."

My sister didn't pursue any girl's dreams because her dreams had been shattered by me and reality a long time ago.

I walked numbly down the street, a street overrun by rats.

A notice caught my eye.

The lord of Locarrot has offered a reward of 100,000 gold coins for anyone who can get rid of the rat infestation.

One hundred thousand gold coins, a gift to redeem our past. My body was ignited by renewed passion, and I scrambled home, grabbing my flute from the cupboard.

This was all God's arrangement, this was my salvation. This thought made me grip the flute tightly in my hand; I had found what I truly wanted to do and needed to do.

I hate Locarrot, I hate all the suffering he inflicted on my sister. Even when the blade is pulled out, the wounds remain.

I put on a flowery dress, mended with needle and thread just like Inlet, and wore a ridiculous hat. Like a proud artist, I embarked on my path of redemption. I firmly believed in what Teacher Inlet had once said: I would change Locarrot. This thought sustained me as I arrived at the heart of Locarrot.

In the empty square, I played my original song, one that belonged to Locarrot. The magical melody seeped into every crevice of Locarrot. The city's inhabitants stared at me in astonishment, at the swarms of rats behind me. I was their king, and they were their soldiers.

The performance was flawless. I danced joyfully, leading the horde of rats through every corner of Locarrot. I brought my vast army to the outskirts of the city, and they followed my mesmerizing music, leaping one by one into the river without struggle or resistance. The black fur floating on the water swept away all the gloom in my heart.

As I passed by a patch of wildflowers, filled with joy, I saw a blooming rose in the very heart of a thicket of thorns, untouched by anyone.

"A gift from my sister." The stinging pain on my skin did not change my smile. I successfully picked it, and it bloomed in my palm, as bright as blood.

Amidst my sister's panicked reproaches, I, in my tattered clothes, embraced her, and I tucked the beautiful rose into her hair.

"I love you, sister."

“I love you too, little brother. But how did you get yourself into this state? And you’re still laughing!”

I let out the loudest laugh I've had in years and hugged my loved ones tightly.

The next day, I arrived at the lord's mansion, carrying my flute and my endless daydreams about the future.

"My lord, I have come to collect my bounty."

The lord's expression was not good, and his words made me uneasy.

"Bounty? I have no bounty to give to a demon!"

"Demon? I don't understand what you're talking about?"

"What am I saying? You devil who plays the magic flute! You stole my citizens' children with your horrible flute while I was raising the bounty! Get out of my mansion!"

I was driven out by guards who beat me, along with angry citizens standing outside the mansion.

I frantically scurried away from the crowd, like a rat everyone wanted to kill. I didn't know what I had done wrong, but if I stopped, I knew I would be beaten to death.

I fled in a sorry state to the outskirts of the city, where I heard my sister's voice trying to stop them. Finally, I escaped to the riverbank, that once clear place now overrun with rats.

My cheeks were stained with blood and bruises, and the pain of my fingernails digging into my flesh felt like it was on fire.

What on earth is going on?

A strange sound arose, a voice speaking above the floating rat carcasses. I couldn't make out if it was real, because blood loss was blurring my vision.

"Aren't you the piper? What happened to you? I quite like your music."

His voice carried a chilling malice, like the Grim Reaper's scythe pressed against the skin of his neck.

"who are you?"

The only response I received was a sinister laugh. The floating corpse of the rat in front of me was peeled away, revealing the ink-black water below and the writhing shadow.

A monster never seen before.

“You are evil.” His strangely colored eyes quickly revealed his inner self, a creature filled with hatred and malice.

He chuckled sinisterly from underwater. "What beautiful eyes, just like your flute music. Look, these lovely children have fallen asleep listening to your flute."

The shadows stirred the rat's corpse, revealing the horrific death before my eyes.

"What do you want to do?" I originally intended to escape, but my weakened body had lost its power. I knelt down by the water and watched the shadows gradually entwine around my body.

"What am I supposed to do? Heh, what are you going to do?" In the rising shadows, a large, black rat stood up, its small red eyes looking at me.

"You're curious, aren't you? Why didn't you get paid? Why were the children lost? I know all of that. Greed and deception are humanity's most primal skills. The lord went back on his word. In fact, he'd been secretly trafficking children all along. He either delayed or threatened, letting the parents' anger simmer until today, finally turning against the scapegoat. Rats know all the dirty, sordid things. He doesn't have to pay a hefty reward, and he's escaped the guilt of child abduction—a double win. Once your corpse becomes a tool for the citizens to vent their anger, he can naturally start over. Heh, even if you don't die, this hatred will transfer to a fictitious devil. Yes, your surname is gone, isn't it?"

I do not belong to Locarrot, even though it is my hometown.

Everything that happened today has completely overwhelmed me. I'm holding my head, not knowing how to face it all.

What should I do about my sister? How can I face her?

The demon's voice rang out again, as if it could see right through me.

"You don't need to worry about how to face your sister anymore, because..."

The black water flowed slowly, and the pitch-black liquid gradually turned reddish-brown.

I stiffly turned my head, as if moving a rusty bolt, and upstream in the river, I saw my sister.

"She was killed by the enraged and crazed citizens, and her body was thrown into the river... just like you treat these rats."

I screamed and swam toward the white shadow in the water, but the black, murky current wrapped around my body and made me sink little by little.

I held her already frozen body in my arms, the rose stained with blood blooming above her head.

A dark shadow climbed onto my back, and a strange voice stood on my shoulder.

"Look down, what do you see?"

In my sister's blood, I saw my own reflection.

"evil."

“Yes, we all are. We are friends, we share the same interests, and Avenritter will help his friends, help them with whatever they want to do…”

I returned to the shore, my floral dress transformed into a greyish-white gown, and buried my sister. The rose had withered under the power of our altered state, and I placed it against my chest.

One last time, just like Inlet, I played my flute toward Locarrot.