by Ink Bamboo
Pride rose in their hearts as the priest next to the boy also knelt. As both of them worshipped the statue, the rest of the priests started singing once again.
Usually, their hymn would be followed by displays of grace from their god. However, this time, something different happened. They were interrupted before they could reach the final stage of their ceremony.
“Move out of my way!”
A priest covered in an elaborate robe ran into the room, frantic and agitated. The rest of the priests would’ve murdered such a man if he hadn’t been the leader of the temple.
The recruit on his knees was surprised when he saw the temple’s leader. The presence of such an important person was not commonly seen by someone of his status. It was rumored that Kovas’s pope only exited his chambers a few times every year. To be able to see him was his fortune.
The leader of the priests ignored everyone as he moved towards the statue of his god. Nothing could enter his eyes except the glory of his one true master. With a hand over his heart and bloodshot eyes, tears began falling down his cheeks.
“My lord, please use me to fuel your strength, please use us,” he pleaded, kneeling at the statue’s feet. He kissed the ground and bowed his head in reverence, but nothing happened.
The rest of the priests were dumbfounded. Could it be that their leader had another divine revelation? Hearts filled with doubt, they shortened the distance towards him, trying to hear what he would say next.
“You must not want us to sacrifice ourselves for you, my lord. How noble of you, your kindness knows no bounds. But don’t worry, we are nothing more than extensions of your will. We will present you with sacrifices to help you replenish your strength.”
The head-priest stood up, a look of madness in his bloodshot eyes. Immediately, he pointed at the recruit and yelled, “Sacrifice him! Sacrifice him to our lord!”
However, he knew that wouldn’t be enough, so he continued, “Sacrifice everyone! Burn the towns, bring their heads, kill everyone you can find. Offer all of their lives to our lord!”
The priests didn’t dare to dally. If this was a command from their god, they wouldn’t be able to escape divine punishment should they relinquish their duties. They soon ran to the walls, grabbing the weapons that were hanging on them.
The priests from the church of battle had all been baptized in blood. They didn’t lack the experience nor the mental fortitude needed for what was to come. They quickly made their way to the villages, prepared to gather sacrifices for their god. The few who remained took the recruit by his arms, leaving him unable to move.
The newcomer trembled, a look of fear in his eyes. He had clearly heard the order given by the head of the temple. Escape was the only way for him to keep his life. Alas, he was already weak from the previous fight. He no longer had the strength to shake off the battle-maniac priests.
Resigned to his fate, the recruit was soon taken to be sacrificed by a group of priests. Only one man remained in the hall with Kovas’s statue. The head of the church was too busy to take care of something as insignificant as leading the priests to battle. The tears of blood falling from his eyes revealed his current dilemma.
“We must hurry, our lord needs more sacrifices,” he murmured.
Several scenes similar to this were happening simultaneously across the world of Gaia. Many small churches had become erratic. Yet none of them could compare to the chaos that was going on around the church of death.
In a mountain range, far from civilization, a group of robed men were offering sacrifices without a break. After running out of tributes, they had even begun to sacrifice their own kin and brothers-in-faith. They were the followers of the God of Death, Amro.
A few hours ago, their pope had given what seemed to be his final command before offering his own soul to his god. They were to sacrifice everyone available in the mountain as the ultimate display of faith. One in which they would join their god’s side forever. Many would have considered the old man senile if they hadn’t shared the same view as him.
One thing differentiated the church of a greater god to one from a minor deity — the prowess of their god. Deities like Amro were strong enough to simultaneously deliver a revelation to all of their followers. Relying on word of mouth to pass their messages was something below them.
Flames of life extinguished one after another. Some even decided to go further and extinguish their souls in sacrifice, welcoming true death. Those who became devotees to a church would often lose all sense of self, regarding themselves as nothing but pawns for their gods to use. The priests of Amro’s church were no different.
That being said, every rule had an exception. Such was the case inside Amro’s church of death, where some initiates were hiding. They were afraid of joining the ranks of those sacrificed to their lord. Since they had just started their indoctrination, their faith was still nowhere close to those who had lived decades inside the church. Soon after the revelation, they had come to hide in the most inconspicuous place they could find.
Ensuring their safety was a priest. He was unlike the other members of the church, for he had not joined until he was of old age. Before that, he had lived as a wandering mage, collecting knowledge about the occult across the lands.
The reason he accompanied the newbies was no other than his own selfishness and greed. He hoped to find a way to achieve immortality. Something rumors spoke was hidden deep in the vaults of the Church of Death.
The fact that such a chance had just presented itself was nothing short of a blessing. He never thought such a massacre would happen before he had managed to accomplish his goals.
Rather than being discouraged by this event, a glimmer of shrewdness in the priest hinted how he had already moved onto a new plan. If all these fanatics sacrificed themselves to their god, who would be left to command the church’s resources?
Like this, he remained hidden along with the novices. However, they weren’t the only ones who did so. Many pockets of disciples hid throughout the mountain in a similar fashion.
As faithful as some members might have been, humans were rarely loyal to anyone but themselves. It was only through the manipulation of their ambitions and desires that one could truly ensure their allegiance. This weakness in human nature was something the church understood.
This day would later be remembered as the dusk of the gods. A day that marked an age where gods and their churches were no more. The reasons for it would remain hidden to the annals of history, but the consequences of such an event was obvious to all of humanity.
Thank you for reading!
I hope you enjoyed the story. Rebirth of the Undead King is the first book I’ve written, and it is definitely a story I love to write. Just in case, the second book is also available on Amazon, so be sure to check it out.
Please leave a review.
I know it might not seem that important, but reviews are how we authors ensure other people get to read our story. So whether you loved the story, or just mildly enjoyed it, I would love to request you to take a chance to review it.
If you have any suggestions, questions, or comments, you can always reach me at [email protected]. Do not be shy, I promise not to bite. The book has been through 2 rounds of editing, but we humans are fallible. If you managed to find a mistake or anything of the like, I’d also appreciate if you let me know through my e-mail.
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All in all, I hope you enjoyed reading this book.
Thank you,
Ink Bamboo.
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