Monster Evolution System: I became a Rat-Chapter 74: Beyond Death

"I do not think you want to do this," Rosacer said quietly.

The golden-haired man moved anyway.

Steel flashed as he drew his sword and leapt forward in a single swift motion. He did not even finish the swing.

Pale yellow flames erupted around him.

The fire wrapped his body like a living thing, burning without smoke. His scream tore through the tavern, high and shrill, echoing off the wooden walls until mugs shattered and people collapsed to the floor, clutching their ears.

Before the sound could fade, Rosacer turned toward the rest of the armored group.

He flicked a finger.

The table before them ignited instantly. Flames burst upward, swallowing wooden table whole. Agonized screams followed, short and raw, cut off as quickly as they began.

"Demon," the villager whispered, backing away in terror, retreating behind the remaining armored men.

None of them dared to draw their swords.

A man with gray hair, broad shoulders, and a thick frame raised both hands slowly. His face was pale, sweat streaming down his temples.

"We want no trouble, mage," he said, his voice strained but steady. "We will leave."

He began edging toward the exit, the others following him carefully, eyes fixed on Rosacer as though he might ignite them with a glance.

As they left, he turned toward the waiter who had been serving the armored group and spoke in a stern, strong voice. "Bring us some beer and food."

The waiter quickly scurried off to fetch them.

The captain and the rest of the group widened their eyes in shock as they watched the frail old man suddenly command the scene in a way they never expected.

As the screams faded into the flames, Rosacer used Beyond Death, and the corpse vanished along with the fire.

Unwelcome visions appeared before his eyes, memories of the future.

[In a vast glass plain, the golden-haired man and his men charged toward another group. The opposing group had an odd appearance, wearing oversized, ill-fitting clothes. One man’s face sagged, a rope hung around his neck as he cried in a broken voice. Then the scene shifted, and the golden-haired man and his men were wiped out.]

Rosacer shut his eyes tightly for a moment. Without turning his head, he said, "Sit down. Let’s fill our bellies, who knows when we’ll get another chance like this?"

They slowly sat down, and soon the waiter returned in a hurry with an array of dishes carrying sweet and deep charcoal aromas.

The group seated exchanged glances, then turned their eyes to the food.

And lynched on the food.

Eating under pressure was difficult with so many eyes fixed on them, none of them showing goodwill. But hunger and the delicious food were enough to make them forget the prying gazes eager to learn more about them.

After finishing their meal, Rosacer spoke with the captain and asked him to send someone with all the items the group intended to sell. If possible, the vials as well. They were of no use to them anymore.

The captain had been thinking the same. Once everyone was done eating, he instructed one of the crew to retrieve their belongings from the shed and attempt to sell them.

Rosacer had originally planned to sell the items before entering the tavern, but he chose not to. He wanted first to ask around, to learn their true value and find the best place to trade. Now, however, it seemed wiser to sell everything immediately.

Rosacer and the group waited for the man to return. Nearby, the waiter lingered nervously, clearly eager for them to leave, yet lacking the courage to ask.

While they waited, the captain leaned closer and whispered, "What is the plan?" His eyes swept across the tavern, measuring every corner.

Rosacer answered calmly, "We leave. After that, you do as you wish."

They all knew they would not remain together for long. Still, in a land this unforgiving, some bonds were formed out of necessity rather than loyalty.

The captain did not press further. He waited in silence for the man to return with the money.

After killing the adventurer, Rosacer had gained far more levels than expected. More than when he had slain the three-headed canine, or anyone else in the dungeon or the Mist City.

The difference was significant.

He silently summoned the system and checked his status again. As his gaze moved across the display, one detail caught his attention. His daily uses of Blight Burn had increased to four. Previously, the limit had been two.

At that moment, the man returned. In his hands was a heavy sack that clattered softly as he walked. He approached and handed it to Rosacer.

Taking the bag, Rosacer turned toward the waiter, who stood nearby, waiting patiently.

"What is the total cost?" Rosacer asked.

The waiter hesitated. "Three hundred coins."

Rosacer raised an eyebrow. "Including the table?" He gestured toward the remains of the charred furniture.

The waiter swallowed and corrected himself. "Seventeen hundred coins. Including the table."

"Very well," Rosacer said.

He reached into the sack and counted out the full amount. It was all of it. He sighed inwardly as he handed the coins to the waiter.

The waiter bowed deeply, his expression shifting from grim tension to open relief. He hurried back inside without another word.

"Sorry about that," Rosacer said to the group.

The captain looked startled for a moment, then shook his head. "No. It is fine."

After exiting the building, James finally asked, "Should we leave now?"

"As soon as possible," Rosacer replied without hesitation. "I am already leaving the town. You should do the same before someone powerful arrives."

With that, he turned toward the forest. James and the crew watched from behind as the old man moved away, his figure slowly fading among the trees.

From behind them, the captain roared, "Quick. They will be coming."

James glanced toward the forest once more, but Rosacer was already gone.

He sighed softly, disappointed that he had not been able to say farewell.

"Perhaps we will meet again, Mr. Rosacer," he murmured.

Deep within the forest, Rosacer reverted to his usual appearance. His hunched frame straightened, his posture becoming youthful and strong once more.

He pressed onward, moving deeper into the woods. When he was certain no one was near, he spoke aloud.

"I know you are here, Fea."

Leaves rustled. Branches shifted. Slowly, a figure stepped into the moonlight.

"So you are alive," Fea said, her arms crossed.

The trees around them swayed unnaturally, as though reacting to their presence.

Rosacer glanced around before replying, "Yes."

She did not pause. "How did Josan fail to track you to the Leviathan Mariner?"

Rosacer scoffed, a mocking laugh escaping him. "That is a trade secret."

Fea did not react. In a flat, emotionless tone, she asked, "Why did you want to speak with me?"

Rosacer laughed again.

Her eyes hardened. A nearby branch twisted and elongated into a whip, slashing toward his face.

He dodged effortlessly.

The smile vanished from Rosacer’s face. In a serious tone, he said, "I need to reach a city. I need your help."

Fea frowned. "How can I help? Like you, I have only just arrived."

"You know the way out of this forest," Rosacer said. "Beyond it lies a road, and roads lead to cities."

She narrowed her eyes. "And what do I gain in return?"

"What do you want?" Rosacer asked.

Without hesitation, Fea replied, "Tell me how to bring someone back to life."

Rosacer frowned. "Why?"

She exhaled slowly, pain evident in her voice. "The Flesh Wretch is dead. I want him back."

"I am sorry," Rosacer said quietly. "That is not possible. What happened to me was a special case."

He paused, then added, "But I can offer something else."

Fea looked at him sharply.

"I can peer into his memories," Rosacer said. "Even fragments of what might have been. If you seek closure."

Moments passed in silence. Fea did not react or speak.

Then, suddenly, her voice rang out. "Alright. That will do."

Pain was buried beneath her words.

Rosacer nodded. "Give me his corpse."

Fea extended her hand. The trees around them shuddered. Branches twisted, roots tore free from the earth, weaving together to shield something hidden within. Slowly, the mass shifted forward, stretching toward Rosacer.

He stood in silence, watching.

With a sharp snap, the roots parted.

What lay within was a corpse.

Its face was broken, skin peeling away from exposed bone. A four-legged body lay twisted and still.

The Flesh Wretch.

Rosacer stepped closer and placed his hand over the remains.

"Beyond Death," he murmured.

Memories of the Flesh Wretch flooded his mind.

[Before his eyes, the Mist City coiled within its fog. The haze parted, revealing a man with a long, thick beard. Michael Maysee. He moved through the streets with his men, searching for someone. They found her soon after. A girl with ordinary features, yet a brave heart. She fought back. Her resistance was fierce, but it was not enough. Michael’s strength overwhelmed her, his presence crushing and absolute. Step by step, she was forced back, wounded and exhausted. Just as Maysee raised his weapon to deliver the killing blow, the vision shattered and vanished.]