SSS-Grade Acceleration Talent made me Fastest Lord of Apocalypse-Chapter 37: Armoured rat tide

Terror swept through the city like a creeping tide, surging from house to house in invisible waves.

The curfew had long since blanketed Valthorn City under its heavy hand. Citizens’ movements were completely restricted—no one dared step beyond their doors. Those who once scoffed at danger now sat trembling in locked rooms, their hearts pounding with regret for not fleeing when the roads were still open.

In a dimly lit home tucked within the heart of the city, a mother sat in the corner of a small room, clutching her child to her chest as if to shield her from a world crumbling apart. Her tears fell silently, carving trails down her dirt-smeared cheeks.

"Hu-hu... Mother, why are you crying?"

The soft voice of a little girl, barely five years old, broke through the oppressive gloom. Her large, innocent eyes shimmered with confusion and heartbreak.

"I’m sure... I’m sure King Roosevelt will protect us!" she said with a desperate firmness that only children could muster. She had grown up on stories of the king’s bravery, tales where he stood like a mighty wall against every storm.

Hearing her daughter’s innocent conviction, the woman wiped the tears from her face, forcing a trembling smile. She wrapped her arms even tighter around the girl.

Scenes like this unfolded across every corner of the city—hope flickering like a dying candle in a storm, as the citizens’ confidence eroded to its lowest ebb.

Amidst this despair, darkness thrived.

The Forbidden Breath cult, a parasite hidden within the cracks of society, spread its influence rapidly across the kingdom like wildfire. Whispers of betrayal and fear took root where law and order once stood firm.

In the heart of the city, a grand cathedral loomed against the black sky—a magnificent monument carved entirely from glistening white marble. The Church of the One True Eternal Above stood like a bastion of faith amidst the crumbling world.

Inside one of its sacred halls, filled with the scent of incense and the soft glow of ever-burning candles, Priest Theodore sat alone. A holy radiance flickered around his seated form, his long robes cascading like still water.

His eyes were closed, his hands resting on his knees, breathing in solemn meditation.

Suddenly, as if struck by an unseen force, his eyes snapped open. For an instant, a sharp, cold glint pierced the serene atmosphere.

"Church of Forbidden Breath..." he muttered, his voice barely a whisper yet carrying a weight that filled the entire chamber.

Too arrogant.

The cult’s actions were a slap across the face of the Church. Priest Theodore clenched his fists beneath his robes. He had been patient, avoiding open conflict for the sake of the city’s already fragile peace. But if things continued like this...

A cold resolve settled in his eyes.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes once more. Slowly, the holy aura around him thickened, and the hall once again bathed in tranquil light.

But the storm outside was only growing.

---

Beyond the city’s battered walls, death came rolling like a black tide.

The armoured rat swarm stretched like a living ocean, flooding the pass that led to the forest. It stretched for over two hundred meters, a writhing, gnashing mass of iron-clad vermin. Each monstrous rat was nearly sixty centimeters long, their rusted armour plates clattering with every twitch and snarl.

There were easily over ten thousand of them.

And this, by nightmare standards, was considered a small tide.

Even a Gold Rank warrior would be torn to shreds if caught in that endless wave of teeth and steel.

"Hold your ground!"

General Claymen Maroone’s hoarse, battle-worn voice bellowed across the walltops, cutting through the cacophony of shrieks and clanging.

"Think about your families! Think about what will happen if these bastards get past the North Gate!"

His voice seemed to inject a sliver of steel into the shaking soldiers. Teeth clenched, knuckles white, they shoved cannonballs into rattling catapults and reloaded ballistae as fast as trembling hands could allow.

Swish—!

Another massive stone was hurled through the air.

BOOM—!

It crashed down into the swarm with devastating force, crushing dozens of rats into unrecognizable mush. But compared to the vast sea of enemies, it was barely a ripple. The tide pressed forward, undeterred.

Despair eating at the soldiers’ hearts.

Escape! Run!

The thought began taking root, silent and poisonous. No sane man wanted to stand and die against an unstoppable flood.

"Fuck!" Claymen cursed under his breath, veins bulging in frustration. "Where the hell is the army?!"

"If reinforcements don’t come soon, the North Gate will fall..." he growled, gripping the hilt of his sword till his fingers bled.

A sudden commotion drew his attention.

Behind the battlements, a small force approached—a mere thirty men, marching with unshaken discipline. At their head strode a young man, his cloak whipping behind him like a banner.

Damien.

The Crown Prince had arrived.

Claymen’s heart twisted in disbelief. Relief flickered for a moment—then quickly died.

What could a handful of Iron Ranks do against this nightmare? They would be devoured like paper before a fire.

"Hmm? Why is he here?" Claymen muttered, his brow furrowing. By now, surely, the danger was known across the city. The Crown Prince should have been sheltered deep within the palace, not standing on the precipice of slaughter.

His gaze flickered to Anek, the grim-faced Sword Master leading the soldiers. Anek merely shook his head—he had tried to dissuade Damien, but failed.

Meanwhile, Damien did not even glance at them.

With a light tap of his foot, he shot upwards, landing atop the wall with unnatural grace.

Immediately, chaos rippled through the soldiers.

"Why is the Crown Prince here...?"

"Has he lost his mind?"

"Someone stop him—!"

Some recognized him, some didn’t, but none could comprehend his actions. A Crown Prince, facing death head-on? Madness.

Even those aware of his Awakening sneered inwardly. A newly awakened warrior was nothing against a rat tide.

But Damien was beyond their doubts.

His gaze swept over the endless rat horde like a silent tide of judgment.

This city was the first territory granted under my name...

And I will not abandon it.

At some point, the Epoch Breaker materialized in his hand—a sleek, otherworldly weapon radiating a chilling aura. Its smooth barrel gleamed under the moonlight, humming with power.

The soldiers fell into stunned silence.

"What is that...?"

Claymen’s mouth went dry. He had never seen such a weapon, nor could he explain how it suddenly appeared.

Under the influence of Accelerated Cognition, Damien’s mind clicked into a higher gear. Processing information five hundred times faster. Time slowed to a crawl. The swarm’s frenzied motion dulled to a sluggish, predictable dance.

He raised the Epoch Breaker, leveling it toward the advancing death tide.

The runes along its surface flared—first dimly, then blindingly bright.

Mana bled from Damien’s body in a heavy rush.

Then—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The space was torn apart by a storm of thunderous gunfire.

Beautiful blue bullets—compressed spheres of lethal mana—spewed out in a torrential downpour, ripping through the air faster than the eye could follow.

Each shot punched into the rat tide with terrifying force, blowing holes clean through their armoured skulls. Flesh, bone, and iron scattered into mist.

In mere seconds, hundreds of rats fell where they stood.

The Northern Gate lit up under the searing storm of magical death, as if a comet was crashing down to earth.

Damien’s mana reserves plummeted rapidly, hitting bottom in less than ten seconds.

Yet his expression remained calm. Unshaken.

Because he had already begun accelerating his mana recovery, a silvery glow covrirng his body, the two talent marbles inside his Bdiya let out subdued hum as mana was absorbed from outside at terrifying rate.

Above the battered walls of Valthorn City, against the endless tide, Damien stood alone, with a Epoch Breaker in his hand.

Today the Soldier were going to witness a battle..no a slaughter that they would never forget in their lifetime or maybe learn an important lesson, why you should not bring a sword to gunfight.