Rebirth of the Undead King: Book 2

by Ink Bamboo

  Rebirth of the Undead King

  Book 2

  Ink Bamboo

  Rebirth of the Undead King by Ink Bamboo

  © 2019 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:

  smalltimebamboo@gmail.com

  Cover by Judy Yao

  https://www.deviantart.com/eikyrona

  Prologue

  Journey.

  A cold wind whistled across the plains, gently caressing a lone figure leaning against a rock. The shadow he gave silhouetted against the campfire as he remained unfazed by the gale kissing his cheeks. It was almost like he wasn’t aware of his surroundings, for his amber eyes were locked with only one thing in their sight — the sky.

  Lonely.

  This single word described his disposition, his thoughts, and his heart.

  Alas, he was too inexperienced to understand his own feelings. The innocence of a young man wasn’t a match for the cruel machinations of fate or life. At least that would be the case if not for the one following him on his journey.

  “Shouldn’t you sleep already?” asked a voice from within him.

  The cold, almost mechanical feeling to his tone would drive chills into most. But Zaros was different. It was this voice that had granted him hope in moments of darkness, revenge in moments of hate, and most importantly, life in a moment of death.

  However, that didn’t mean his attitude towards his partner was befitting of his role and status. The boy was ignorant of both. Disregarding his partner’s question, he took a more comfortable position against the rock behind his back, voicing the thoughts in his mind, “The sky is beautiful tonight.”

  “How would you even be able to comprehend the beauty behind it?” retorted the one within him. Once a former god, Amro was now bound to the life of this simple mortal. A long time ago he had been able to stargaze by looking below his feet. Now, he had to look above, just like any other mortal.

  Yet Zaros had no way to comprehend the complexity of emotions hidden behind his partner’s voice. He was too focused on the sky above to mind the grumbles of an old soul. “Is there a need to overthink it?” he asked.

  “The stars hold many secrets,” Amro said deeply. “You wouldn’t be able to grasp them even if you tried for a decade. The word ‘beautiful’ doesn’t begin to describe them.”

  “I see,” said Zaros, a hint of melancholy noticeable in his voice. “I remember I once stared at them after a day of hunting. I swear I could feel someone’s gaze from beyond.”

  “That’s not how this works, child,” said Amro. This was a rare chance to educate his partner on the secrets of the world. “The stars may speak but they aren’t the kind to listen nor see.”

  “And what is it that they are saying?” asked Zaros. Amro’s words had piqued his interest.

  “Many things,” said Amro. “Most of which you are better off not knowing.”

  Having received virtually no answer, Zaros’s thoughts went back to the beginning. “Is it wrong for me to just enjoy their beauty then?”

  “I guess not,” said Amro. The boy’s logic wasn’t free of faults, but he knew when to take a step back.

  Zaros laughed for a moment, intent on not letting his partner off the hook. “You are just like an old man, callous and stubborn.”

  “And you are just a brat, foolish and ignorant,” Amro retorted. He was not willing to let the last one go by. Being connected to the boy’s soul had its up and downs. One of them was being more sensible to his words and needs — something he had long forgotten about.

  Zaros chuckled mildly, covering himself from the cold wind with a few scraps of cloth. They were still far from reaching their destination, the Northern Plains. Or as they were known these days, ‘The Independent Territories.’ There, he expected to find allies, like-minded people who had risen in rebellion against the tyranny of his Kingdom’s ruling class.

  Embracing the journey that was ahead of him, the young man slowly closed his eyes, fully at ease knowing his partner’s consciousness would wake him up should the need arise. It was rare for Amro to allow him a good night’s sleep without dragging him to train into his soul realm, so he was going to take full advantage of this opportunity.

  Good night, he thought, stubbornly believing someone was watching him beyond the stars.

  And you call me stubborn? questioned Amro. He could never stop being surprised at how easily the boy was willing to dismiss his teachings. Sages and scholars would murder for a chance to hear three of his words, not to mention a full lecture.

  As it was, it didn’t take long for Zaros’s body to ease itself into the ground. The accumulated stress of his journey finally being released from his muscles. His dreams would be filled with laughter and enjoyment, recalling the bonds with the new ‘family’ he had formed in the small town of Sol. It might have been nearly two weeks since he had left the small town but the memories were still fresh in his mind.

  These short moments of peace were the best tool Amro had to ensure the boy wouldn’t crumble. Even the most severe of teachers recognized the importance of rest. Not giving Zaros any would eventually result in either his fall or the rise of a madman, perhaps even both.

  Finally, thought Amro. As Zaros’s consciousness fell into slumber, he found himself taking control over the boy’s body.

  During the past week, he had been taking careful note of the stars’ movements. He meant it when he said the stars were willing to speak. The information they reflected was akin to an infinite library. Only through careful browsing would he find what he was looking for. Now that he no longer controlled the same authority he did as a god, he needed to browse with even more care.

  Making use of Zaros’s body, he started drawing ancient glyphs, performing an endless stream of divinations using the ground as his canvas. It took him nearly an hour to finish, but when he did, a mix of tension and eagerness took control of his expression.

  Amro laughed wickedly as he gazed upon the results of his work. The glyphs and runes in the ground oddly resembled a drawing of the sun being eclipsed by a smaller star — almost like it was taking its place. The significance behind it wouldn’t be understood by more than a few sages in this world.

  A gamble.

  This situation was something Amro never thought would be forced onto him after he rose to godhood. He considered it for no more than a minute before making his choice. He knew divinations of this scale were prone to change depending on who got involved. It was now in his best interest to ensure nothing happened to change this particular one.

  I’ll see you soon, Alexandra.

  Chapter 01

  Ritual.

  A ray of sunlight shone through the sky, piercing through countless clouds until it reached its destination. Bound by the will of its master, the light finally settled atop a small altar, decorated with precious offerings of gold and jewels.

  Yet neither the precious stones nor the valuable gold atop the altar were of any interest to the light. Its attention focused on a single object amongst all the others. A small marble, dark and enticing as if made from a fragment of the night sky. The small sphere of darkness radiated an aura of subtle corrosion capable of summoning an instinctive fear in the hearts of the weak.

  The few eyes inside the room focused on the way the light interacted with the small object. This accursed marble had been a source of constant frustration for them. Many of their middle-ranked priests had lost their life studying this marble. The reason remained unknown, but holding the accursed thing required one to be a priest of the hig
hest rank. Those who tried to do so without qualifications had found themselves quickly lacking any signs of life.

  A symphony of voices within the room united together to form a chant, “Glory to the sun, glory to the light who cleanses us all…” The unison of their voices was representative of their united belief. Through their effort, the light shining on the altar soon became bigger, reaching the girth of a centennial oak.

  The light seemed to have a mind of its own. After reaching a size that covered the entire altar, the intense sunlight seemed to bend around the marble. A fight soon between the two broke out as the light attempted to wrap the marble within its embrace.

  *Thud!*

  The group of priests found themselves hugging the ground soon after the sunlight bathed its target. A sinister energy emerged from the marble, rejecting the power coming from the light. As both energies collided, an inexplicable pressure fell upon the room.

  The burden caused by the stream of light and the dark marble had forced the priests to cease their chant, continuing to chant within their minds. On the outside they felt frozen, much like prey watching a fight between predators.

  Yet amongst them all, one stood unimpressed. A young girl with blonde hair and dull golden eyes. Her robes were different from that of the priests, simple yet elegant. No pointless decorations covered her clothes. Through her pragmatism, her appearance gave off a sort of scholarly charm.

  The pressure seemed to have no effect on her. Her posture remained firm while her gaze remained uninterested. Her faith was unwavering for she knew what the result of the clash would be.

  This scene wasn’t unfamiliar to the rest of the priests in the room. The girl was their anchor, their light. Despite being younger than everyone else present, no one dared to think little of her. She was the incarnation of their goddess’ will — a Chosen. Her faith and authority were obvious from the way she stood right next to the altar. None inside this room could be her match, save for the marble and the beam of light.

  As the battle continued, the girl’s uninterested face focused on the marble and the way it fended off the sunlight pouring over it. She knew her goddess wasn’t expending much effort in this ritual, but the marble’s resilience was enough to deserve her attention. Very few items had the ability to fend off divine power in such a way, much less without the help of an user.

  As a Chosen, such obstinate rejection of her lady’s authority should have displeased her. But that wasn’t the case. She knew this wasn’t her fight. Only a fool would worry about a result that was already set in stone.

  Previous attempts to purify the marble had ended in failure. Even when the cardinal got involved, the result had been the same. Thus, they had decided to leave it in her goddess’ hands. There was no reason for her to worry anymore. Doubting her goddess’ ability to solve the issue would have been not only foolish, but blasphemy.

  *Crack*

  The time soon came, the marble failed to continue its defiance. Under the endless stream of light bathing it, cracks had finally begun to appear on its surface.

  A smirk surfaced on the face of the young Chosen as she approached the altar. It wasn’t arrogance nor happiness, but a reflection of the pride she felt for her faith.

  “Not so tough now?” she said, grabbing the marble in between her fingers. “You could’ve just accepted our command but you stubbornly refused. Now, have a look at yourself — you’re nothing more than a dull toy without an owner.”

  The marble shook as if offended by her remarks. Despite being an object, it seemed to have traces of an ego. Disgruntled, it tried to get away from her fingers before realizing it had no power left to do so. The clash with the light had left it in a weakened state.

  Seeing the marble struggling to get away from her, the girl frowned slightly. Why do you resist? Do you despise my lady’s will that much?

  Knowledge and ignorance were a side of the same coin. As a Chosen, she wasn’t able to grasp why others would reject the teachings of her goddess. Only one word came to her mind when she saw this act — blasphemy.

  A stream of her aura finally suppressed the ego within the marble. Before long, the accursed object was finally left defenseless on her hands. Without a will protecting the secrets within, they were finally on display. This was her purpose all along.

  The young Chosen’s consciousness sunk into the marble. It followed countless pathways, revealing the knowledge contained within. Alas, even as a knowledgeable Chosen, she had topics she preferred not to delve into. Her probe into the marble’s secrets revealed such themes.

  Meanwhile, the clerics at her side stared in awe. It had taken them a full minute to recover from the clash of divine power, but the young girl had stood through it all unimpressed. The might of a Chosen was once again reflected in their eyes.

  However, the attention she summoned had soon made the most observant amongst them notice the shift in her expression. As a result, one of them decided to get closer and speak up what was on everyone’s minds.

  “My lady, what’s the result?”

  “Trash,” answered the young Chosen. Few words could convey what she felt for the object in her hands. This accursed object had taken many of their resources to obtain and purify, but now she couldn’t feel anything but contempt for it.

  “My lady,” said the priest, afraid that she left them in the dark. “Can you please enlighten the rest of us as to why you would say such a thing?” His wisdom as a priest was still lacking compared to someone taught directly by their church’s residing leader — the cardinal.

  The girl didn’t answer. Annoyed, she tossed the marble towards the priest. The object in her hands made her feel uncomfortable and tainted. The unfamiliar feeling made her give up on the marble for the time being.

  “You can see it for yourself,” she said. “I’ll be resting in my chambers.”

  The priest caught the marble in his hands. For a moment he forgot what the marble had done to many of his fellow clergymen. Only after seeing the stunned looks from the of his peers did he realize it.

  Am I still alive? His attention faltered so much he failed to notice the cracks now spread through the marble.

  Only the girl leaving the isolated ritual chamber was conscious of them. Not that she cared as she was submerged in her own line of thoughts.

  Disgusting. I wonder when the cardinal will finally let me go and finish off those death worshipers. Even now, their trash keeps appearing everywhere in our kingdom.

  Every time an object from the Church of Death appeared, countless tragedies would follow. The girl felt the stance this branch of the church held on the issue was too passive. Taking the Church of Death’s things from their hands was an improvement, yes, but it was nowhere near what she wished to do. Only after spreading her lady’s glory to every corner of the world would she feel appeased.

  Nonetheless, her line of thought was soon broken as someone placed his hand over her shoulder. An old man with a strong body, dirty robes and a kind face had awaited for her outside the restricted area leading to the room of rituals. His wrinkly eyes came near her as he examined her up and down, trying to peer into her current condition.

  Seeing nothing different from the time she had walked inside, he finally sighed in relief. “I’m glad you’re okay, Erin. I was worried something would happen inside.”

  The young Chosen ignored the words of the old man, walking forward instead. She had discarded that name long ago. She felt no need for individuality. Nowadays, she liked to be addressed by her title as a servant of the Goddess of Light.

  “Hey, Erin…”

  Yet to her demise, the old man was insistent. He was unwilling to let her go without receiving an answer. The respect displayed by the priests was nowhere to be seen in his gaze. The only feeling visible within his eyes was a craving for both knowledge and affection.

  “Did you finally resolve the mystery behind that ominous artifact?” he asked. His curiosity equally matched his concern. “The formations insid
e that marble were so complex. I couldn’t decode half of them, it wouldn’t surprise me if the ritual failed to work on it. Thus, I worried about your state.”

  Irked by the slightly blasphemous comment, Erin finally stopped in her tracks. Questioning the effectiveness of her goddess’ rituals had finally gotten her attention. “Guardian, I’ll say this once again. Simple mortals like us have no place questioning the power of our lady. Shall you do this again, I’ll have no choice but to report it to the cardinal.”

  The old man broke into a gentle smile. After many years of being by this girl’s side, he knew better than others how to get her attention. Of course, he had no worries that she would really report his words to the de facto leader of this branch of the church. He believed that behind her dull expression and beliefs bordering on fanaticism, the kind and warm girl he knew still remained.

  “I take it was a success. I’m glad that you won’t have to carry that ominous thing anymore,” he said.

  “That is not my choice to make,” she answered. “I’ll do whatever my lady wishes for me to do. My will is not my own.”

  That’s the issue, thought the old man. Distraught by her words, he was almost left behind as she continued onwards.

  He could still remember when his granddaughter behaved like every other child, playful and innocent. Things were so different now. Taking care of the matters of the church had forced her to grow up quickly, leaving little of her former self behind as she assumed the mantle of Chosen.

  Even so, he wasn’t willing to give up. He’d made up his mind to convince her to share some time with him. “Are you free, then? We could go to the library to read for a while.”

  Sharing time with his granddaughter was one of the few things that gave him peace of mind. Alas, the years had driven them apart. Ever since his granddaughter became a Chosen, he was left with no choice but to step back and watch as she carried out the will of the church.