Rebirth of the Undead King: Book 2

by Ink Bamboo

  Fortunately for Zaros, that made his mission considerably easier. Ever since he had conversed with the prince’s butler, he had realized there was another name missing in his hit-list. That of the king’s heir.

  The command to destroy his village had not been given by the king alone. No, the idea had been born in the prince’s twisted mind. Deeming them a threat, he had not hesitated to sentence them without a trial. Their crime: being able to think for themselves.

  It was a situation absurd enough to make Zaros feel good about the prince’s survival. Receiving the news of his escape had been the highlight of his week. He had been robbed from exacting his revenge once. There would not be a second time. Not when it came to punishing the intellectual mastermind behind the events that had changed his life.

  Thus, when he found the man in question, Zaros couldn’t help but smile.

  The prince was surrounded, his body full of gashes and injuries. Even the armor he was wearing seemed like an old relic of the past, damaged and covered in dirt. His eyes were lifeless, his spirit broken. With most of the guards around him dead, each of his moves consisted of a mechanical response to protect his life. A life that had only been ensured by the cooperation of a few struggling paladins ensuring their flanks were not overrun.

  It was a picture that made Zaros feel he was on the edge of vindication.

  Coming closer to him, the boy found no resistance from his target. The guards of the prince and those around him were down. The boundless sea of enemies they faced didn’t allow for even a small part of their attention to fall upon him.

  It felt almost like a dream.

  One where he would finally achieve his goals.

  One where the world was finally not going against him.

  That was precisely why he couldn’t help but feel strange. The sense of emptiness taking ahold of his mind warning him that it wasn’t real. It all felt familiar in a very bizarre, unsettling way.

  ✽✽✽

  Meshing reality into a dream was a task harder said than accomplished. It required absolute control over one’s mind and soul. Something very few could boast about.

  Fortunately, Amro had both at his disposal.

  The reason he cared about this was simple. Once he had seen the ray of light descend upon the city, the fallen god had realized it was time to execute his plans. Plans that couldn’t afford a mortal’s mistakes. And therefore, plans that couldn’t afford Zaros’s involvement.

  However, Amro knew that setting his host aside for this wasn’t as simple as requesting the boy to step back. The young man had a vested interest on being part of this city’s fall. He craved to watch it burn with his own two eyes.

  Robbing him of this opportunity would strain their relationship. Damaging it to a point where it would become a burden. It was a path he couldn’t afford to take. Zaros was required to achieve the rest of his goals down the road. Being on good terms with him was essential to his schemes. He needed another way to solve the current situation.

  Thus, he opted for a compromise. One his host would never need to know about. One Amro could keep to himself as long as he was careful enough.

  Changing Zaros’s perception of this day.

  Soul realms allowed their owners to do a myriad of things. Simulating elements of reality were just a small part of it. If he were to recreate and alter the events that were to come, Amro was sure he would be able to deliver a satisfactory conclusion to the boy’s inner demons. One where Zaros wasn’t forced to find out everything about his real identity or the full extent of his goals. One where he could spare him from those secrets until the time was right. One where he could act to his heart’s content.

  It was a selfish reason but Amro didn’t need to think twice about it. Dragging Zaros’s consciousness to his soul realm took him only a fragment of a second. A second after which he took over for his host, ready to enact his plans for real as he left the young boy to experience a censored, but idealistic copy of reality.

  “I hope you can forgive me,” muttered the fallen god. Even if there was a hint of selfishness mixed into his reasoning, Amro truly believed this was for the best. “I’ll make it up to you in the future.”

  With that settled, Amro took in a deep breath, walking inside the town as he slowly approached the man currently holding the unholy marble on his hands. He was on his own, unprotected. Important as he was, none of the rebels had stayed by his side, afraid to reveal the importance of his role. It made him an easy target. Especially since Jan, Katherine, and Nolan had all remained outside of the city, awaiting the success of Arkus, Richard, and the other officers.

  Once the undead had started attacking their targets, Amro had only needed to ‘gently’ tap the back of the man’s head with the hilt of his dagger. Having previously dealt with the other person assigned to control the undead, the marble finally fell into his hands. In all honesty, he was doing both of them a favor. Using it with at their level would have meant the erosion of their souls. Something the rebel council hadn’t bothered telling them about.

  “Hey old friend,” said Amro, caressing the marble on his hands. “It’s been a long time.”

  Dimly glowing, the marble seemed to answer Amro’s comment, the muddled forms on its surface disappearing if only a moment.

  “Yes, it’s me,” answered Amro. “Sorry for the delay.”

  Glowing brighter this time, the marble seemed to scoff at Amro’s reply. Along with the fluctuations in its luster, it seemed to convey a slight sense of rejection.

  “I had some things to do before that,” noted Amro, shrugging his shoulders. “You know how restrictive my role can be. It couldn’t be helped.”

  Dimming, the marble turned unresponsive for a few seconds. Only after sensing Amro’s indifference to its tantrum did it glow back to a normal shine, suggesting it accepted his apologies.

  Breaking into a rare smile, Amro’s tone finally turned more friendly, vastly different from the way he normally spoke to Zaros. “Are you willing to help me once again then, like old times?”

  Turning a white hue, the marble offered Amro the answer he was looking for.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll have you meet him later on. Right now, there’s someone we have to deal with.”

  Just like Zaros, Amro had two targets on his list. He was long aware they had already sensed his presence. Therefore, he needed to strike before they did.

  “I’ll start with you,” said Amro, looking in Alexandra’s direction. The avatar of the Goddess of Light was busy fighting a swarming group of Argent’s puppets. Her appearance seemed as unsullied as it was in the beginning of the battle. The light coming of her sword, however, conveyed how much weaker she was at this moment. “It’s time for my payback.”

  Chapter 30

  Revelations.

  “Interesting,” said Argent, his face straining to smile. “I didn’t expect the newcomers to be on your side.”

  “They aren’t,” admitted Alexandra. “They’re doing this out of convenience.”

  “Humans,” scoffed Argent. “Their motives often escape my understanding.”

  “Likewise,” agreed the goddess’s avatar.

  Facing each other, Argent and Alexandra had been driven to a stand-still. Rapidly consuming his soldiers, Argent had realized fighting a god was not as easy as he had imagined. The amount of pawns he had sacrificed to stall her was already beyond his initial estimations. It served to show that despite the limitations of her vessel, the Goddess of Light had more than a few tricks under her hands.

  “That being said,” continued Alexandra, “I don’t think we can continue this charade any longer.”

  “So, you’ve noticed.”

  “I have,” confirmed the goddess, her sword slashing through a puppet ambushing her from behind. “Those newcomers are waiting for our downfall to reap the benefits. I prefer not to give them the pleasure.”

  Argent nodded. He knew there was truth to her words, but also something hidden beneath the
ir surface. From the urgency she had shown to finish him, he could tell that both of them had objectives that extended beyond this fight. That’s why he understood her point. Her words were not an explanation, but a warning. A battle of attrition would only benefit those outside of their purview. In order to claim the benefits of their encounter for themselves, they both needed to end it at the briefest opportunity.

  “Are you sure you want to take the risk?” taunted Argent, momentarily glancing at the state of his own body. “Even with my wounds, I’m still in a much better state than you are. You will certainly fall before I do.”

  Looking at him with derision, Alexandra snorted. “Your body might be, but what about them?” she asked, pointing at the remaining citizens of the kingdom. Unlike before, they were now busy fighting off the alliance formed between the rebels and the survivors of the church. “Without your mob blocking my every move, you’re not a match for me.”

  “Perhaps,” conceded Argent.

  From an initial amount in the thousands, his army had been brought down by an order of magnitude. A situation that had turned unavoidable upon the rebels’ arrival. With a horde of loyal undead at their service, they had been able to make up for the lack of numbers on their side. Enough to turn the tides of the battle, slowly coming closer to regaining control of the city.

  Not even the six apostles serving under Argent were able to change the situation. Magnus, Arkus, and even the cardinal had worked in tandem to stop them from doing so. After all, reaching a deal had been easy. Alexandra had ordered the cardinal to agree to all concessions the rebels might have as long as they could ensure their victory.

  This was a situation Argent couldn’t afford any longer. The rebels had brought along with them the one person he was looking for — someone who had proven to be smart enough to remain hidden up to this point. Someone who he needed to find at all costs.

  But not knowing the identity of his target placed Argent in a difficult position. Especially so given how he was someone talented enough to defeat his personal disciple. He needed expendable puppets to test the limits of such an individual. In the rare case he was someone at the same level as himself, he had to be careful. He couldn’t risk antagonizing someone like that when he was so close to accomplishing his goals. Not unless it was necessary.

  “I do wonder, however, what it is that makes you so eager to win,” added Argent. “I’m sure it’s not pride, for someone in your position has no use for things like that. Is it, perhaps, that you have no choice in the matter or is it something else? Something you don’t want me know about.”

  Showing indifference, Alexandra didn’t bother to honor his question with a reply. Her silence conveyed her answer. An answer that helped her hide her true state of mind.

  “Indeed,” mocked Argent. “Godhood is not without its downsides. It’s not only a position of power, but one of duty. A burdensome role that binds you to the will of the world, even against your own.”

  “Since you understand, there’s no need to extend this conversation any further,” bluffed the goddess.

  “Agreed.”

  ✽✽✽

  Alexandra couldn’t afford to wait any longer. The rebels arrival had also alerted her to a change in the situation. One that took precedence over the safety of her followers.

  Amro.

  She was sure she had sensed a trace of his despicable aura. Something that could very well explain the appearance of the Church of Death in this kingdom. She wasn’t sure what it was, but if there was the smallest chance of a legacy or someone related to him appearing, she needed to get ahold of it before anyone else did, especially his church.

  But there was a complication. Her divine essence had almost finished corroding her host’s body and soul. Not even a Chosen could hold the power of their god forever. If she extended the fight for any longer, she would risk losing her chance to search for this newfound objective.

  Thus, in a final bout of desperation, she had chosen to bring her fight with Argent to an end. Both of them faced each other for the final time, ready to risk everything in one final blow. With their weapons unsheathed, avatar and puppet prepared for an attack that would put an end to their dilemma. A blow that would finally free them to go after their true objectives.

  “Die.”

  In a blink of an eye, both parties disappeared from where they were standing, flashing into nothingness with a brilliant display of speed. The bodies of their vessels restrained them from being able to show their true power, but the instant they clashed, they proved it was not for nothing.

  Golden and black light mixed in a warping display of incandescence as both goddess and pope enhanced their attacks with the energy they had left. Slowly, however, the golden aura started taking the advantage. Something that was further proven when the controller of the dark light stumbled to his knees. An opportunity Alexandra made sure not to waste.

  *Slash!*

  Cutting off the right arm of the man before her, Alexandra smiled for the first time since her descent. She was sure her attack had struck true this time. The golden flames sticking to Argent proved that with certainty. If only he were a puppet with a lesser connection to the real body, he would have had already collapsed.

  “Goo — good job,” stuttered Argent, his body trembling as he knelt into the ground. “You win this time.”

  “I’ll make sure to do the same to your true self in the future,” promised Alexandra, her words stopping the man from continuing. “Those following the steps of Amro shall also follow his fate.”

  “Amro?” asked Argent, his face warping in realization. “Was that your doing?”

  “Yes,” confirmed Alexandra, her sword cutting through Argent’s other arm. “I am destined to eliminate all traces of his church.”

  “I see,” said Argent, “What an interesting turn of events.”

  “There is nothing interesting about it,” argued Alexandra. “Only idealistic fools refuse to believe in destiny. Everything has been predetermined from the moment the world came into being. What further proof do you need after the results of this battle?”

  “Proof is subjective,” countered Argent, his lips settling into a smile as he ignored the goddess’s act of sadistic release. “For example, what if I told you this victory was not your own?”

  “Are you suggesting those humans are to be credited for your defeat?”

  “Not at all,” answered Argent, his expression one of ridicule. “While it is true they contributed, there was someone who helped you without you even knowing.”

  Alexandra shrugged, her expression one of disbelief. “And who would that be?”

  “Me,” answered a voice behind her, forcing her to turn around in surprise. Every fragment of a second she spent in that motion was enough to fill her with dread and apprehension against the possibility of something she had buried deep within her mind. A fear that was about to come true.

  Cold.

  Hollow.

  Indifferent.

  With an overbearing demeanor strong enough to suppress her own, a boy now stood facing the goddess’s avatar. His eyes were fully black, his aura thoroughly pure. Standing firm and steady, he smiled at her, eager to give her a chance to guess his identity.

  “How?” asked Alexandra. “You shouldn’t be alive.”

  “Hello, sister, long time no see.”

  “Cut the bullshit, Amro! Tell me how you did it.”

  “Death is my domain,” answered the target of her curses. “The law I swore to protect. What makes you think you are powerful enough to use it against me?”

  “Hypocrite,” said Alexandra, the expression on her face warping into one of madness. “You rejected our goal, insisted death was equal to all of us.”

  “And I didn’t lie when I said that.”

  “Nonsense!” retorted the goddess, her anger gaining traction as she raised her voice. “Your actions just proved us right. You fear death just as much as the rest of us!”

  “I do no s
uch thing,” said Amro, shaking his head in disappointment. “I would never reject something as pure as our final destination. As a matter of fact, I welcomed it with open arms. It’s just that death happens to be more accommodating than you seem to believe.”

  “Lies!”

  “Not at all,” he answered. “Death can be lenient enough to grant anyone an extension on their life — as long as they serve a greater goal, that is. Me being alive is simply a way for the world to show you that I still have a reason to be. When I cease to have it, I’ll gladly accept my end.”

  “And what is this goal supposed to be?” asked the goddess, her eyes looking through all of Amro’s pretenses.

  “Isn’t that obvious by now?” asked Amro, his face growing stern. “Stopping you and the rest, giving you all the very thing you fear.”

  Enraged, Alexandra stomped her foot on the ground, golden flames rising from the imprint she left in the dirt. “You will never get away with this, Amro. Once the rest of the pantheon hears about your survival, they will hunt you to the ends of the world.”

  “But they will not hear about it until it is too late,” mocked Amro, pointing towards Argent’s limbless body. “Or did you forget about the cage he built around this city?”

  Silence fell between them. For a moment, Alexandra turned to look at the walls of the city, a wave of realization hitting her in the face. Argent’s magic was still in place. The blood staining the walls glowed just as brightly as before, excitedly trapping the souls of those killed in the battlefield to keep sustaining itself. Her mind had been so shocked by Amro’s appearance, she had completely forgotten about it.

  From there, she turned her gaze towards her subordinates and eventually the rebels, hoping to find amongst them a sacrificial pawn that would serve to open a path for her escape. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to be paying attention to her or her struggles. They were all busy dealing with the rest of Argent’s puppets. Puppets who seemed to be distancing themselves from Amro as much as they could.