Chapter 90: The Secret Of The Rats

A few other rats scurried out from cracks and burrows, forming a wide circle around the pool. Some had feathers tucked behind their ears. One wore a little scarf made of thread. Another balanced a leaf like a tiny umbrella. They sat reverently.

Han Yu blinked. "This is a rat council. I am inside a rat council chamber. Is this a sect within the sect?"

General Chitterfang squeaked twice and hopped in a very specific pattern.

The rats around him echoed the movements.

Then they all looked at Han Yu.

He paused, then mimicked the motion.

A moment of silence.

Then... wild applause. Well, squeaks. But enthusiastic ones.

Looking at the pool of spiritual liquid, Han Yu could begin to put the pieces together and figured out how the rats became so smart.

Over the centuries, spiritual qi had trickled through the mountainside into forgotten hollows deep beneath the sect. Most dissipated or settled into crystal veins, but in one specific spot, the rarest alchemy occurred.

An underground spring, contaminated with just the right dose of rare ore, dead beast remnants, and forgotten talismans, formed a Spirit Liquid Pool—a naturally forming blend of liquid qi that was potent enough to enhance life... or twist it.

Only the rats had found it.

Only the rats could fit through the tiny cracks.

At first, it just made them smarter. Then organized. Then ambitious.

They formed hierarchies. Learned to read servant signs. Watched the disciples. Memorized patrol patterns. Some even learned to draw crude maps using chicken bones and berry juice.

It was no longer just a pool—it was sacred.

But now, it was in danger.

General Chitterfang dragged Han Yu to the far side of the chamber, past glowing moss and piles of shiny servant treasures (half a spoon, a cracked mirror, and what looked suspiciously like Shen Tu’s missing comb).

There, behind a crumbled stone wall, were the remnants of an ancient formation—faint inscriptions glowing sickly green, flickering erratically.

Han Yu knelt, squinting at it.

"Oof. This is old. And broken. And also humming like a swarm of angry bees."

He reached out. A faint shock bit his fingertip.

"Yep. Bad formation. Could go boom." Han Yu had seen some talismans before as well as the foramation on the wall of his town.

So while he was no expert, he at least knew what they looked like.

Chitterfang chittered urgently.

Han Yu sighed. "You want me to clear it?"

The rat nodded solemnly.

"Alright," Han Yu said, rolling up his sleeves. "But only because you guys helped me with Operation Zapbutt. And because I’m not entirely convinced you’re not tiny furry cultivators waiting to form your own sect."

He pulled out a the knife he had brought with him from home and a piece of protective cloth that once belonged to Fatty Kui’s pants. It would have to do.

Two Hours Later – After Many Grunts and Swears

With the precision of someone highly motivated by exploding underpants, Han Yu disabled the faulty formation piece by piece. Of course, someone of his non existent skill level would never be able to do this, but he had help this time. Every time he got something right, the rats squeaked. Every time he almost triggered something fatal, Noodle fainted.

TAP TAP TAP

Han Yu hammered on the old wall, striking at the runes.

Squeek

One of the rat’s shrieked!

"Ow!" And General Chitterfang pinched Han Yu’s arm. "Okay, okay, not that one." Han Yu held back.

Squeek!

General Chitterfang pointed to another rune with its tiny hands.

"Alright." Han Yu said as he struck the said rune.

One by one, he struck down the runes in a certain order that he could not understand at all.

The rats seemed to know how the formation worked and it didn’t seem like the first time they were having this trouble. They would have done it themselves if not for the fact that the formation was a bit too strong for their tiny bodies, preventing them from getting close.

Han Yu, while a body tempering realm cultivator, still had more durability than the rats, even if they had a higher cultivation base than him.

It took Han Yu nearly an hour to finish the grueling work. Finally, the last section was hammered, and the green glow fizzled out with a sound not unlike a deflating duck. What Han Yu had been doing was basically scratching out the runes that were present on the wall as if he was correcting mistakes in his homework.

Han Yu collapsed backward onto a smooth rock. "Done."

His arms and shoulders seemed to be aching from the constant hammering and his neck was sore from having to lower his head due to the low ceiling.

With his work done, General Chitterfang bowed. The others followed.

The rats seemingly danced and celebrated his success making the boy chuckle.

Then, to Han Yu’s surprise, the rats seemed to carry out a small drop of water from a leaf bundle nearby. It managed to stay intact due to its small size and surface tension. General Chitterfang then gently picked up the water drop and touched his palm with the drop in his paw.

A faint glow passed from the paw into Han Yu’s skin—warm, soft, but strangely powerful. It wasn’t qi. Not quite. But it felt... clever.

His eyes widened.

"Did you just... give me a blessing?"

The rat didn’t answer. But Noodle handed him a walnut. That was basically the same thing.

And as Han Yu Climbed Back Toward the Surface he felt different. Not stronger, but sharper. His senses slightly clearer. Like he’d just slept for a week and had a pot of high-grade enlightenment tea.

He didn’t know what that blessing or whatever it was would do. Not yet. But he had a feeling it would come in handy.

And somewhere, deep in the rat tunnels, the elders of the rodent world whispered to each other:

"The Chosen One is on his way. Hide the snacks."

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