Chapter 406 A Naive, Bumbling Fool who can’t even Handle the Simplest of Threats

The other hatchlings, huddled together in a corner of the nest, let out a chorus of terrified chirps and clicks. They pressed against each other, their tiny bodies trembling as they tried to make themselves as small as possible. One of them, its ears torn and its back slashed from an earlier attack, let out a high-pitched squeal as the rat’s gaze fell upon it. It tried to crawl away, but its legs gave out, and it collapsed in a heap, its tiny claws scrabbling uselessly against the bloodied straw.

The rat lunged.

Its claws slashed through the air, striking the hatchling across the face. The force of the blow sent it sprawling, its tiny body rolling across the nest until it hit the crate wall with a dull thud. Blood streamed from its nose, and its eyes fluttered as it struggled to stay conscious. The rat didn’t give it a chance to recover. It grabbed the hatchling by its ear, its teeth sinking into the fragile flesh, and shook it violently. The hatchling’s body flopped like a ragdoll, its cries growing weaker with each savage shake.

The rat’s jaws closed around another fragile body, but instead of killing it quickly, the rat toyed with it. It shook the tiny creature violently, its teeth sinking into the hatchling’s soft flesh as it thrashed and screamed. The hatchling’s cries were shrill and piercing, a sound of pure terror and agony. The rat dropped it, letting the hatchling flop onto the floor, broken and bleeding but still alive. It writhed weakly, its tiny limbs twitching as it tried to crawl away, but the rat was relentless. It pounced again, batting the hatchling with its claws, dragging it back into the nest as if savoring the torment.

The other hatchlings scrambled in terror, their tiny claws scrabbling against the crate as they tried to escape. But there was nowhere to go. The rat was a monster in their world, a towering behemoth of teeth and claws that seemed to delight in their suffering. It grabbed another hatchling, this one slightly larger, and pinned it down with a single paw. The hatchling squealed, its tiny body trembling as the rat leaned in, its hot breath washing over the helpless creature. It bit down, not to kill, but to maim, tearing a chunk of flesh from the hatchling’s side. The tiny creature screamed, its voice raw and desperate, as the rat tossed it aside like a broken toy.

One hatchling managed to summon the last dregs of its strength. Its tiny body trembled as it climbed over its fellow hatchlings, its claws scrabbling against their bruised and broken forms. It reached the edge of the crate, its tiny hands gripping the rough wood as it tried to pull itself up and over to escape the box. But it was a weakling, just like the rest of them, and its arms were too frail to lift its body. It hung there, dangling precariously, its tiny legs kicking the air in a desperate attempt to find footing. Its breath came in gasps, its chest heaving with the effort, but it was no use. It was stuck, helpless and exposed.

The rat saw its miserable attempt to flee and let out a low, guttural growl. It stalked closer, its claws scraping against the wooden floor, its eyes locked onto the dangling hatchling. The hatchling let out a weak, pitiful chirp, its voice trembling with fear as it realized it had been spotted. It tried to pull itself up again, its tiny arms shaking with the effort, but it was no use. It was too weak.

The rat struck.

Its claws raked across the hatchling’s back, tearing through its fragile skin with a sickening rip. The hatchling let out a shrill, piercing scream, its body convulsing as it tried to hold on. Blood streamed down its back, staining its translucent skin a dark, ugly red. The rat struck again, and again, each blow more brutal than the last. The hatchling’s tiny legs kicked wildly, its claws scraping against the wood as it tried to find some purchase, but it was no use. Its strength was fading fast.

Finally, with one last, desperate chirp, the hatchling’s grip gave out. It fell, its tiny body hitting the blood-soaked straw with a soft thud. It lay there, trembling and broken, its back a mess of torn flesh and blood. Its tiny chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths, and its eyes, wide with pain and fear, stared up at the rat as it loomed over it.

Hermit woke with a startle, his heart pounding as the sound of the hatchlings’ screams reached his ears. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with horror as he saw the rat in the nest, its teeth sinking into another hatchling. The tiny creature thrashed wildly, its cries desperate and pitiful, but it was no use. The rat shook its head violently, the hatchling’s fragile body crumpling like paper.

“NO!” Hermit screamed, his voice raw with panic.

He lunged at the rat, his small hands grabbing at its fur, but the creature was too fast. It darted away, its mouth still clamped around the hatchling’s throat and tried to flee into the shadows.

But Suzuka was already on her feet, her sword in hand. Her eyes burned with fury as she saw the carnage in the nest. Without a word, she hurled her sword with deadly precision. The blade sliced through the air, striking the rat with a sickening thud. The creature let out a final, guttural screech as the sword cleaved it in two, its body falling to the ground in a heap.

The hatchling, still clutched in the rat’s jaws, fell to the floor, its tiny body trembling as it gasped for air. Hermit rushed to its side, his hands shaking as he gently pried the rat’s jaws open and freed the hatchling. It was alive, its tiny body covered in blood and bite marks.

The hatchlings, once chirping and full of life, now lay broken and bleeding, their tiny bodies trembling with pain and fear. Hermit fell to his knees, his hands shaking as he reached for them. Tears streamed down his face, his chest heaving with sobs.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...” he whispered, his voice breaking as he cradled the injured hatchlings in his arms. They chirped weakly, their tiny bodies pressing against him for comfort. They were scared, traumatized, and Hermit was all they had.

Suzuka stood over Hermit, her shadow looming in the dim light of the dying fire. Her sharp eyes bore into him, her expression a mix of disgust and cold fury. She knelt down beside him, her movements deliberate and slow, like a predator circling its prey. Her voice, when she spoke, was low and venomous, a whisper that cut deeper than any shout.

“Pathetic,” she hissed, her breath hot against his ear.

“Just a minute ago, you were standing there, preaching about how you’d protect them. All those promises, all that heroic nonsense. ‘I’ll keep them safe,’ you said. ‘I’ll never let anything happen to them.’ And yet, here we are. A rat. A fucking rat, Hermit. That’s all it took to nearly wipe them out. You couldn’t even protect your precious hatchlings from that. Do you understand how pathetic that is? You couldn’t even protect them from a rat. All your promises, all your big talk, and you couldn’t even handle that.”

Hermit flinched, his shoulders trembling as he clutched the injured hatchlings closer to his chest. His tears fell onto their tiny, broken bodies, his sobs quiet but gut-wrenching. He didn’t look at her, couldn’t look at her. Her words were like knives, each one carving deeper into his already shattered heart.

Suzuka leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a cruel, mocking whisper.

“You’re weak, Hermit. You always have been. You think you can play the hero, but you’re just a fool. A naive, bumbling fool who can’t even handle the simplest of threats. Do you really think you’re capable of protecting anyone? Look at them. Look at what your protection has done.”

Her hand shot out, gripping his chin and forcing him to look at the nest. The hatchlings lay broken and bleeding, their tiny bodies trembling with pain and fear. The nest was a mess of blood and torn cloth, the aftermath of the rat’s brutal attack. Hermit’s breath hitched, a fresh wave of tears spilling down his cheeks.

“This is your fault,” Suzuka continued, her voice like ice.

“You let this happen. You were too busy playing the hero to actually be one. And now they’re paying the price. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.”

She released his chin with a sharp shove, standing up and towering over him. Her eyes burned with contempt as she looked down at him, her lips curling into a sneer.

“If you want to protect them, then stop crying and do something. But don’t stand there and pretend you’re anything more than what you are—a weak, useless goblin who can’t even handle a rat.”

Hermit’s sobs grew louder, his body shaking as he held the hatchlings close. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was cry, his tears falling onto the tiny, broken creatures in his arms.

Suzuka turned away, her expression hardening as she walked over to the rat’s corpse and yanked her sword free. She wiped the blade clean on the rat’s fur, her movements sharp and angry.

Suzuka turned back to Hermit, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight of him—curled up on the floor, clutching the injured hatchlings, his face streaked with tears. Her lip curled in disgust, and she took a step closer.

“You know what the worst part is? It’s not just that you failed. It’s that you knew you were going to fail. Deep down, you had to know. You’re not strong enough. You’re not smart enough. You’re not anything enough. And yet, you still stood there, spouting all that nonsense about protecting them. What did you think was going to happen? That you’d magically become some kind of hero? That your tears and your pathetic little speeches would be enough to keep them safe?”