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.
