by Ink Bamboo
Rebirth of the Undead King
Book 1
Ink Bamboo
Rebirth of the Undead King by Ink Bamboo
© 2018 Kevin Butman
All rights reserved. No portion of this book or its art may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact:
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Cover by Judy Yao
https://www.deviantart.com/eikyrona
“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside of us while we live.”
Norman Cousins.
Prologue
The death of the undying.
Sitting on top of a crystal dome, three figures faced against each other. A tower of decomposing corpses laid around them, evidencing how long they had struggled for. Fine golden threads seemed to rise from the bodies of the fallen before vanishing into the infinite nothingness. They were the remains of those who claimed authority over the world — the gods.
After gathering his breath, one of the figures shot forward. Hair strung out of infinitely thin ice swung from left to right as it followed his movements. It painted a beautiful scene where strands of blue embraced gold-tinged drops of blood in a delicate waltz.
Alas, the beauty of his sword dance wasn’t reflected on his face. Influenced by anger, the man couldn’t hold back from cursing the one responsible for the carnage around him.
“Die, Amro!”
The God of Ice, Ymir, lunged forward once again. Each of his moves drew sharp arcs in the air as his blade approached the Sovereign of Death. There was no hesitation in his attack, but even his best efforts weren’t enough to get through his opponent’s defenses.
Not far from him, the Goddess of Light wove endless shields of gold. Her prideful gaze followed after an unrelenting barrage of shadows coming her partner’s way. Pushing her power to the limits, Alexandra tried to protect Ymir from each and every strike. Unfortunately, neither of them was a match for their opponent.
Seeing his attackers struggling, a smile surfaced on the Lord of Death. His dark robes fluttered as he extended his right hand, chains of darkness shooting towards these last remaining enemies. The facade of arrogance he displayed was the last thing holding his mind together. Deep inside, he couldn’t help but constantly worry.
How? he wondered. Just how were they able to invade my domain?
Amro knew his opponents so far had been inherently weaker than him. The laws of death he controlled were absolute, part of the world ever since its conception. The gods he had faced shouldn’t have been able to initiate an attack of this scale on their own. That brought fear upon him. Fear of the mastermind who remained hidden.
Still, fear wouldn’t hold him back from doing what came natural to him. Being on the receiving side of this assault, there was only one reasonable thing for him to do.
“Die.”
The chains of darkness shot by Amro coiled around Ymir and Alexandra, holding them down despite their efforts to break away. Amro knew the bindings wouldn’t hold for long, but a moment was all he needed. With enough time, he would be able to summon his greatest strength, one he had been unable to bring to his side all along: his army of death.
Unfortunately for him, fate wasn’t on his side. As the portal to his kingdom of undead soldiers opened, a criss-cross pattern of white energy sealed it away. The God of Space, Zephyr, had joined the fray.
“Zephyr, even you dare to join their camp! Are you not afraid of the consequences?” Amro’s eyes burned with rage, burying away the disappointment he felt for his fellow gods.
“You fail to understand our goal, Amro. The laws of death must cease to exist, their mere existence is a threat to all gods. Just think about it. Without the possibility of death, there would be no end to our rule.”
Unrelenting desire and madness tinged Zephyr’s voice. His wish for of immortality had blinded him to reason. “You know that’s the way it should be, Amro. Gods should be far above all, even death.”
“Have you gone mad, Zephyr? Immortality is not that simple. Everything will meet their end in death, even us,” said Amro.
“Of that we’re certain, my friend. Today, you will meet your end!”
The fight resumed and many more gods joined the fray against Amro. Each of their moves weaved destruction into existence, chaos into order. Unfortunately for them that was their mistake.
Numbers didn’t matter to someone like Amro. Every death he brought upon the world replenished his strength and intensified his drive. Even after fighting tens of lesser gods, the Sovereign of Death still brimmed with energy, ready to slay the trespassers entering his kingdom.
“Come! Exhaust your lives at my hands. I’ll show you the meaning of true death!” roared Amro. Anger swirled in his voice along with disappointment. The gods had turned against the natural laws of life and death — their foolishness needed to be corrected.
He could have accepted it if they craved immortality as a tool to ensure the integrity of their domains. After all, gods were duty-bound to guard the laws they controlled. But that wasn’t the case. Zephyr words had confirmed that fact.
The stubbornness in Amro’s enemies was born from ignorance, arrogance, and most importantly, cowardice. They feared death, they feared him and his domain. It all combined to create a sense of entitlement. Perhaps, if he disappeared, so would their fear.
Did they seriously think they deserved their place as gods for eternity? Without death, there could only be stagnation.
Days went by and even with a difference in numbers, Amro was able to hold his ground. Despite the many sacrifices the gods had made, the tides of battle were still in Amro’s favor. However, a dark premonition still gripped the Sovereign of Death’s mind.
As if smelling his fear, Alexandra took a step forwards, making his omen a reality. “It’s time.”
When she spoke her command, a golden portal opened amidst the battle-field. Abundant life energy emanated from it as a woman covered in white came from within. Each of her steps carried boundless authority as she walked to the middle of the battlefield.
“Vita!” said Amro. His voice held pleasant surprise as well as traces of confusion.
“You’ve got to stop them, Vita! Their desire for immortality has blinded them,” he said, burying the warning his war-borne instincts gave him at the sight of the Goddess of Life.
“You seem to misunderstand, Amro,” mocked Alexandra. “She’s not here to join you.”
A cold and arrogant grin surfaced on her face; it was easy to understand what her words implied.
Amro’s gaze turned towards Vita. He waited for her to rebuke Alexandra, but only silence came in return. The words he wished to hear didn’t leave her lips.
“Amro, my dear,” she said, finally breaking the silence around her. “It’s time for the law of death to reach an end. We need an age of life and prosperity amongst the gods. Please desist with your futile efforts. If you do so, I can guarantee your safety.”
Even if eons of existence had made him indifferent to the world, Amro couldn’t help but feel betrayed by her words. He had been fond of the goddess, for both of their laws originated and ended within the boundary of each other. This had led to an unspoken understanding between the two of them. Had it all been a lie? Just how long had this faction of gods harbored the desire to execute this plan?
Sensing an opening caused by Amro’s uncertainty, Alexandra shot forward. It was her chance to break through the god’s defenses. This wasn’t part of her plan when she asked Vita to step onto the battlefield, but it was a pleasant surprise, nonetheless.
Her smile intensifie
d as the spear of light in her hands successfully pierced through Amro’s god-spark, a condensation of his connection as a god to the natural world.
Amro stared at Vita, disregarding Alexandra’s attack in its entirety. His heart was filled with doubt. Why was it that she chose to break the order of nature? Life and death were supposed to be complementary, two sides to the same coin.
He did nothing but stand in complete confusion. There was no use to fighting anymore. Vita’s fighting power rivaled his own. Going without his army of death against her while she joined forces with the other gods could only end in one way.
Embracing the moment, Amro ignored Alexandra and her spear. His eyes focused on Vita, trying to decipher the reasoning that had led her down this path.
“With no death in your way, you’ll finally be able to become an Overgod,” Zephyr said. The elation in his voice was impossible to miss.
Many gods approached Vita to congratulate her on her future ascension. They believed that once a god’s laws reached a perfect state, they would experience a sudden rise in power; one enough to alter the nature of reality itself.
Meanwhile, Amro’s eyes remained set on Vita, unmoving. What had gone wrong? Did he make a mistake at some point? The situation he was at forced Amro to remember the entirety of his past in order to make sense of it.
For eons, he had dominated both the mortal and immortal world. Death itself, a law woven into the fabric of existence, had been the only true certainty in nature. He had been born a mortal man, but his affinity towards death had ensured his rise as a god. Wherever he had gone, death soon followed after him.
His mother left him at birth and his father killed himself shortly after. Those were small details of his past that Amro learnt after he took control of the underworld. As a mortal, he caused the annihilation of many. Kingdoms rose at his will and nations fell at his whim. Fate had bound his path to incarnate death from the beginning.
However, that just made Amro appreciate life even more. Not out of fear for his own ending, but because he knew that the brighter a life, the more meaningful its end would become. Only by living life to its fullest potential would there be no regrets when it ended.
That being said, Amro realized something. If he fell here, there would be no one to take his place. The gods would block anyone who tried to rise to the throne of godhood by making use of the laws of death.
With him out of the way, they would try to change the course of nature, the fabric of reality itself. After being the God of Death for so long, he couldn’t accept his end to have such consequences. It was his duty as a god. Not to himself, but to the world.
I’m such a fool, thought Amro. I’ve grown far too complacent.
He believed he had finally found someone who could understand him and his struggles to safeguard the course of nature. Death’s existence brought constant change to the universe, never allowing it to fall stagnant. He believed Vita had understood this as a fellow god. Unfortunately, he was wrong.
As his remaining lifeforce was extinguished by Alexandra’s spear, a single thought sprouted from within Amro’s mind.
The pantheon needs to change.
Seeing Amro vanishing into nothingness, the different deities celebrated their victory. Thinking about the rewards they would reap after this battle made it hard to contain their glee.
Yet much to their dismay, this blinded them from noticing the resolute look in Amro’s eyes. The unrelenting drive that didn’t fade even during his last moments. Only Vita stared at him until he vanished, perplexed about what had gone through his mind during his last moments.
She respected her fellow god for his conviction and principles — both beyond her own. Despite that, her desire for power burned greater than any other feeling she might have held toward him. Nothing and no one would stop her from achieving the goals she had set for herself. Without the God of Death barring her way, it was only a matter of time for her to become an Overgod.
Her choice, cruel as it may be, had opened up a new path for herself. The promises of immortality she had given the gods would eventually become a reality, further increasing her own power. With so many gods depending on her, her authority was set in stone.
All that was left was consolidating her rule amongst mortals, changing the course of the world’s will. Once she brought a change to the realm of the gods, she would be virtually unstoppable. All she required now was time.
Unfortunately for her and the other gods, change could sometimes go unnoticed. Just like the changes happening in the mortal world of Gaia.
Inside a forest forgotten by civilization, a small stone beneath the earth glowed with an aura of death. It pulsed with greed every time a creature died, using the energy gathered to nurture the accursed object sealed within.
The one and only phylactery of Amro, the God of Death, still remained dormant within the mortal world. A small legacy from his time before ascending, a relic so old that even its creator had barely remembered it before dying. Within it, a small fragment of Amro’s soul remained, one he had sealed inside the stone before his ascension as a god.
This old legacy of his time before ascension would be the key to his path of revenge. Even if he couldn’t defeat the alliance formed by the Goddess of Life in straight-up combat, he could always find a way to bring her and the other gods down. All he had to do now was wait. Wait for destiny to send the right person to serve him as a vessel. Wait for the right set of circumstances to come.
Amro knew powers beyond his own laid dormant in the world. A direct challenge to the natural order set by the pantheon would never be allowed — such was the way of nature. Whether it would be through his hand or through someone else’s, however, they needed to be stopped.
Compliant to his beliefs, Amro wouldn’t have to wait for too long. Not far away from the forest where his soul laid dormant, a kingdom was having an emergency meeting.
Inside a throne room, the king sat and considered the proposals made by his subjects. They were trying to tackle the issue of lacking resources for the war they were waging. This was the Kingdom of Nyx, a small nation currently dealing with the tides of a civil war.
“My Lord,” spoke a man with a waist as wide as a bear’s. “Proceeding with the logging of the southern forest would be the best way to fulfill our immediate need for resources. We can use the wood to fix our siege weapons. Moreover, once the forest is cleared, we can have the southerners search for ore veins.”
The King considered the proposal. After a few seconds, he turned towards his advisor.
“Tell me, if we do not fix our siege equipment, how long can our armies hold?”
The advisor thought for a moment before he answered. “My lord, we can hold the campaign in the north for another three years, but we would lose ground to the rebels. The best course of action would be to crush them soon, and in order to do that, we require more weapons to equip our troops.”
The king sighed. Many small villages would have to be demolished in order to log the forest in the south. A move that would put yet another stain on his already ruined reputation. Should he decide to evict the commoners from their homes, an additional rebellion might rise in the southern region.
Noticing the hesitation in his father’s eyes, the prince decided to take part of the conversation. “Father,” he said. “We can send a pre-emptive squad to burn down the villages.”
The king turned to his son, waiting for him to finish his proposal. He didn’t think his son was stupid enough to propose such a thing without thinking of the consequences.
“Once the villages are burnt, we can finish off the survivors. That way, we could log the zone without having to worry about any rebellions rising,” explained the prince. “It’s not like they contribute a significant amount in taxes. If anything, they’re parasites, father.”
The king frowned. That may stop the chances of a rebellion happening in the south, but if the news were to travel, trouble could arise in the eastern and western fronts o
f the kingdom.
Seemingly aware of his father’s thoughts, the prince continued. “Don’t worry, father. We’ll have people pretend to be survivors from the southern villages. They’ll convince others that the rebels from the north tried to incite a revolt in the south and attacked them when the villagers refused.”
The king smiled, the remaining worries in his mind fading away. With such a vicious and creative mind, his son would make a fine king someday. In his mind, rulers didn’t need mercy — they needed solutions. His son knew how to manipulate the masses to achieve his goal, he wasn’t one to fixate on the details. That alone ensured his future success as a ruler.
“So be it,” the king ordered. “Destroy the villages in the south and then proceed with the logging.”
After listening to the king’s command, his subordinates left the room. Such a big plan required equally big preparations.
Chapter 01
The fate of a town is to perish; the fate of a man is to live.
Life in the kingdom of Nyx was not easy. The war of exhaustion carried against the rebel forces in the north had driven the prices of food and many other resources beyond what most citizens of the kingdom could afford to pay. To make things worse, able-bodied men who farmed the land were conscripted to join the army, leaving their wives and children on their own.
Several villages existed at the southern border of the kingdom. Amongst them, a humble group of settlements had their place in the forest. The people from these villages were not remarkable in any way, nor were they of much relevance to the kingdom’s economy. They survived thanks to farming, hunting and the extraction of natural resources from the forest.
This forest, known as ‘Halt’, contained many things useful to the townsfolk. Strong trees with precious timber grew throughout the forest whilst animals fat with meat wandered through the thickets. With these resources at hand, the townsfolk managed to cover their daily needs.
