I Built a Divine Zoo in Another World

Chapter 139: Remaining Rat

The smoke still rose slowly from the enormous crater.

The air above the charred earth shimmered as though the atmosphere itself were melting, distorting the vision of anyone who dared look directly at that place.

The residual heat from the golden explosion was still intense, creating tiny mirages that danced over the mounds of ash and charcoal.

Small embers glowed here and there, like fallen stars amid the devastation.

Each one flickered faintly before going out, carried away by the gentle breeze that had begun to blow through the forest. The wind carried with it the smell of burning, molten metal, of something that had been utterly annihilated.

No one approached.

Not Clavor. The swordsman remained at a respectful distance, his sword still in hand, though his body had already relaxed. He stared at the crater for a few seconds, as if expecting something to emerge from the ashes, but soon looked away.

Not Hark. The Count rested his spear on his shoulder and looked in the opposite direction, toward the forest stretching beyond the clearing. His eyes swept over the surviving trees, assessing the damage caused by the battle.

Much less the soldiers. To them, the battle was over. The Rat King had been completely destroyed. There was no reason to remain there staring at a pile of ashes. Their eyes were fixed on the road back, on the trees still standing, on the sunlight beginning to filter through the canopy.

The survivors simply began walking back.

Their steps were slow and heavy, burdened with exhaustion. It was no longer the hurried pace of battle, where every second could be the last. It was the gait of those who had survived the impossible and now needed to process what had happened.

The soldiers gathered the weapons scattered across the ground. Some spears had snapped in half, their shafts broken during the fight. Others were covered in black blood, still wet, slowly dripping down the blades. They cleaned them with torn cloths before storing them in their harnesses or resting them across their shoulders.

They helped their more seriously wounded companions. Those struck by the corrupted mist or by the Thorn Guard’s spikes leaned on their comrades for support. Arms draped over shoulders, slow and careful steps, gentle voices offering words of encouragement.

The mage walked slowly, supporting himself with his own staff. His fingers were white from gripping the wood so tightly, and his legs trembled with every step.

The spell he had cast had consumed nearly all of his mana, and his exhaustion was so profound that he could barely keep his eyes open.

The female mage still remained atop Tilbo, recovering some of her strength. Her body rested against the ant’s shell, her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady. The blessing she had bestowed had drained her life force, and rest was the only cure for her condition.

Hark spoke with Clavor several meters ahead. The voices of the two warriors were low, almost whispers, yet carried the weight of shared experience.

"...It was harder than I imagined."

Hark’s voice was hoarse, weary. His usual smile had vanished, replaced by an expression of deep exhaustion.

Clavor let out a quiet chuckle. It was a faint sound, almost a sigh, yet it carried a familiarity that only years of companionship could produce.

"You say that every time."

"Because every time it’s true."

The two continued walking. There was no haste in their steps, no urgency. The battle was over. The danger had passed. They could finally slow down, finally breathe.

Behind them, the enormous crater remained completely silent.

Or almost.

The silence was deep, absolute, but it was not empty. Something was there, something moving within the depths of the ashes, something that still breathed.

Among the mountains of charcoal, within the ashes of the Rat King...

Something moved.

A tiny paw slowly broke through the layer of ash. It was small, fragile, and covered in black soot. Its tiny toes stretched out, feeling the air, searching for something solid to support itself.

Then another. The second paw emerged beside the first, and together they began digging through the surface, creating a small opening in the mountain of ash.

A tiny gray snout appeared. Its nose twitched, sniffing the air, catching the scents of the ruined forest. Small, bright eyes blinked, adjusting to the light after a long time in the darkness.

It was just a rat.

Far smaller than any Royal Guard. Its body was about the size of a man’s hand, and its frame was light, agile, and completely different from the monsters that had fought during the battle.

Its fur was completely gray, covered in soot. The grime was so deeply embedded in its coat that it was difficult to tell where the fur ended and the ash began. Tiny patches of charcoal clung to its body like a second skin.

Its body trembled constantly, as though every movement caused it pain. Its hind legs looked weak, barely able to support its weight. It panted, its breathing short and uneven, as though every breath required superhuman effort.

On its forehead...

A tiny golden crack glowed faintly.

It was such a subtle mark that hardly anyone would have noticed it from a distance. A thin, almost imperceptible line stretched vertically between its eyes. The light emanating from it was soft, like the glow of a distant candle, yet it carried a strange, almost hypnotic quality.

The little rat remained motionless for several seconds. Its body was rigid, its muscles tense, while its eyes slowly surveyed its surroundings.

The crater. Its jagged edges, the scorched ground, the piles of charcoal still smoking. The destroyed trees, some still burning, others reduced to blackened stumps. The sky above, still covered by a thin veil of smoke.

The humans were leaving. It could see them, their silhouettes moving through the forest, growing farther away with every step. It could hear their voices, the sound of their boots against the ground, and the creaking of their armor.

None of them looked back.

Then...

It started running.

Not toward the humans. There was no reason to follow those who had destroyed its home, annihilated its people, and exterminated nearly all of its kind.

Nor toward the ruined forest. The area around the crater was dead, barren, and inhospitable. There was no food there, no shelter, no hope of survival.

Only away. As fast as its tiny body could carry it.

Its paws struck the charred ground frantically, propelling its body forward. With every step, it felt the pain in its muscles, the fatigue in its bones, the weight of exhaustion threatening to bring it down.

But it could not stop. It could not slow down. If it stopped, it would be captured. If it slowed its pace, it would be discovered. And deep within its tiny mind, it knew it would not survive a second battle.

But above it...

Two wings silently unfolded.

Astra.