The rat men gave chase to the invaders, but they were too late. The humans had escaped.
These were members of the Intolerance Division, stationed near the area. They'd heard the horn and acted according to protocol, but when they arrived at the last known location, their vanguard was already dead on the ground. Only the silhouettes of the beings who killed their comrade remained, disappearing into the dimensional crack. Their arrows made no difference.
The invaders entered what the rats considered an entrance, but to the humans it was an exit. A matter of perspective that changed everything.
Several minutes passed before the leader of their group, Captain Vrek, arrived at the scene. Members of the prestigious Rusttails knight division accompanied him.
Vrek's voice was cold with barely restrained fury. "I knew something was wrong with those initial reports. You received them and did nothing. You were dismissive in your investigations. Now one of us is dead. One of my devoted men. Because of your incompetence."
The Rusttails captain didn't say a word at first. He had his own ego to uphold, and he knew he was wrong. But they were taught never to admit their faults. Instead, he deflected the accusations back at Vrek.
"That is not our fault. Your man died because of his weakness. Does he train like us? No. If he did, he might have held out a second longer. A whole day longer! You try to pass blame onto our prestigious order, yet you can't even stop those who invaded from the other side." The captain gestured at the corpse. "Could you even guess what type of weapon killed your man? I could tell at a glance. A bladed weapon, sharp enough to stab through the skull first, then slice the head off in the next motion. Do not lecture me about failure. You failed this rat man."
He said so much that he nearly buried Vrek's original point. An invalidation of Vrek's concerns as they bickered over who was right or wrong.
It was foolish, yet all of it held true. They shared the blame. They'd been complacent in their duties. This was a slap to their faces, a wake-up call to their so-called prestigious orders. They had failed to protect the kingdom.
Whatever had invaded them, they could only assume it was human, could now pass through the gates they'd left wide open. An extremely poor oversight on their part.
---
Meanwhile, Benny and those who'd managed to return home couldn't care less what the rat men thought at the moment. They'd discovered they could no longer return there willingly using their previous tactics. They were sure of it. That gate would be heavily guarded now, and the rat men would probably send a strike force to eliminate them.
"I guess we should thoroughly prepare now," Benny said. "I hope you can convince the others, leader." He spoke to Gustav.
"Worry not! I, the great Ripler, shall do my part!" Boastful as always. Benny really couldn't stomach this bastard at all.
"Anyways, we should head back to the sanctuary," Meredith said. "They must be wondering where we are by now, right?"
They returned within a couple minutes of leisurely walking and arrived at the sanctuary. The group was cooking the last of the meat they'd hunted for them. Most had recovered sufficiently to function somewhat normally. It wasn't physical exhaustion that lingered. It was the gnawing thought of never returning home, the emotional burden that kept them from moving as themselves.
Gustav sighed at the sight. "I guess we should work with these people first to return them to fighting shape. If we're tracked here, they'll be more of a burden than help in their current state."
The three agreed. They would work on that later. First, they had to go around and tell their tale to everyone. Hopefully this would reignite their dying flames.
---
Over the next few days, they worked hard to convince people. Only a few were intrigued. The rest said they couldn't care less. It wouldn't make any difference if they died now or later.
Benny wanted to punch them, but he held back. He didn't outright deny their feelings either. He could have been them at any moment in time. He'd been close to that edge himself, more than once.
Well, he couldn't care less about the ones who refused. At least they'd piqued the interest of a few. Five out of the seventeen remaining survivors showed interest. That brought their group to nine people total.
These five followed them around much like Gustav, Meredith, and Ripler had at first. Almost questioning, skeptical until they retraced what the original three had done. They explored the evidence Benny had gathered, listened to the accounts, weighed the risks.
And they too saw Benny in a new light. Not as a coward who got lucky, but as someone who'd discovered something vital.
The five new recruits were a mixed group. There was Kael, a former soldier who'd lost his entire squad in the first week. Lyra, a merchant's daughter who'd been part of a guild expedition. Torin, a blacksmith's apprentice who'd been quiet since the collapse. Senna, a scout who'd survived by staying away from the main group's disastrous decisions. And Greaves, an older adventurer who'd seen enough labyrinths to know when something didn't add up.
Each had their own reasons for joining. Kael wanted revenge. Lyra wanted purpose. Torin wanted to be useful. Senna wanted to scout something that mattered. Greaves wanted to solve the mystery before he died in this place.
Together, they were nine. Not much against a kingdom of rat men, but it was a start.
Now it was time to prepare for battle.