Rebirth of the Undead King: Book 2

by Ink Bamboo

*Dong!*

  The sound of a hammer slamming against a metal gong soon woke up the recruits, causing them to gather outside their tents. Juniors like them weren’t entitled to sleep inside brick houses like the rest of the rebel forces. They justified it as part of their military training, but both Amro and Zaros knew the truth behind it. It was to let them know their place.

  Not long after, a thunderous roar gave them their first order of the day.

  “Gather up!”

  The bronze-skinned man giving the command didn’t need to use his aura to help his voice be heard. He was loud enough on his own. His wide chest delivered his orders with enough resonance to awaken even those sleeping far from the tents.

  All the recruits soon gathered, facing the man. Amro was alongside them, the first of his group to arrive and take formation.

  Arkus’s eyes landed on Amro, a soft trace of approval appearing as he recalled what he had heard of Zaros from his adjutant. He then scanned the crowd, confirming all had arrived.

  “Too slow,” said Arkus. It was important for him to instill no complacency in the younger generation. “Today we will be having some guests taking part in your training.”

  Mumbles of curiosity came from the recruits. As people who had renounced their kingdom, they had never seen a ‘visitor’ inside their camp. The announcement coming so suddenly left them full of doubts.

  Arkus didn’t leave them in the dark for too long as he extended his arm, inviting a group of white-robed men, an old man, and a young girl to join him. Their faces were proud and confident, their powerful presences far from what the recruits could display. Magnus’s presence alone felt like a boulder weighting over the recruit’s hearts. His power was a match to their commander’s.

  No, it’s higher, evaluated Amro.

  The recruits’ reaction caused the envoys of the church to beam with pride. The might of their institution was once again engraved into their hearts. Only Magnus and Erin remained the same. They were far too used to people being meek in their presence.

  Arkus took notice of the weak will displayed by the recruits. A few powerhouses had easily lowered their spirits, causing him no little amount of displeasure. I guess they will serve as nothing but cannon fodder, he thought. Even the weak had a use. Their sacrifice would be remembered after the rise of a new kingdom.

  It was no surprise then that he found himself intrigued when he saw Amro’s cold, distant eyes. Those were the eyes of a beast, of someone who refused to submit. The eyes of a man with a purpose. To see those eyes who looked at him with indifference…

  Our kingdom isn’t without a chance. Alas, the younger generation can only blame their luck for being born here.

  Amro stood ramrod straight, still looking towards Arkus’s direction. Not the least amount of weakness could be seen in his disposition. The clarity in his eyes seemed to say that no mountain was too tall for him to face.

  Seeing that look, Arkus felt relieved. The feelings of disdain he had felt for the recruits’ lack of discipline quickly dissipated.

  Alas, he’s unfortunate to be born in this era.

  Magnus noticed the change of air around Arkus, causing him to follow his line of sight. A simple black-haired boy stood as the objective. He didn’t seem special from a first glance. If anything could be pointed about him, it was the endless arrogance displayed in his eyes.

  Magnus frowned, looking to his side. To his surprise, even his granddaughter was looking in the same direction.

  What makes him so special? wondered Magnus. He felt the need to cast a spell and probe into the boy’s constitution. Unfortunately for him, Arkus’s gaze had returned to his group. Probing would have to wait.

  Arkus soon continued. “Recruits, these are our honored guests from the Church of Light. They have come to provide aid to our cause.”

  Voices of surprise came from the crowd causing a smile of approval to appear on the paladin candidates. Arkus also smiled, noticing the rise in morale. “Let us show them your discipline and strength,” he said. “Prove to them we’re worthy of their support.”

  A cheer came from the crowd. Both young and old recruits felt invigorated after gaining the invisible approval of Magnus’s group.

  Truly simple-minded, thought Amro. Charades of this kind could not fool him. Why would the rebels make a display of strength with this group? Wouldn’t it be better to use the core of the rebel army to do so?

  Amro’s mind began to ponder. This must be related to the artifact I felt on them. A show of strength, perhaps? Very well, let me see who’s responsible for carrying what is mine. Of course, he already had a suspicion of who was responsible for that task.

  “Let’s go,” said Arkus. His voice echoed through the rebel’s camp, causing the recruits to fall in line behind him.

  Amro sighed, following the group in resignation. If only Zaros managed to defeat his own inner demons, then there would be no need for him to take care of this burdensome task. I definitely need to increase his training load, thought Amro. I might have been too lax on him.

  As Amro planned how to increase Zaros’s inhumane training by a couple orders of magnitude, the party arrived at their destination. Everyone’s faces gleamed with pride, seemingly unexhausted by their continuous march.

  “Here will be okay,” said Magnus. The faint trace of mana in the air told him this place was perfect.

  “Hold!” commanded Arkus. His voice caused the troops to halt their steps, turning to look towards him. “Our guests from the church will be holding some demonstrations in this place.”

  The recruits looked around, realizing the field they were standing at was stained by blood. A sudden realization made them aware this was a place where the core members of the army had repelled a small invasion led by the seventh division of Nyx’s army. The reputation of their berserker commander was enough to send a chill down the recruits’ backs.

  Amro, on the other hand, kept his calm. The scent of death in this field was no stranger to him. A slight trace of melancholy even drifted into his heart. He could smell the regrets of those who had died in this field — the frustrated desire for freedom was the strongest amongst them.

  “I guess this is my cue,” said an old voice.

  Magnus then extended his hand, causing a small rift in space to appear. His display of the arcane garnered the attention of the younger recruits. Most of them had never seen magic used in such a striking way.

  From within the space rift, Magnus drew a rosewood box with many runes carved on its surface. At this time, even Arkus’s face displayed traces of wariness.

  Only Amro, watching from the back, could be said to be happy at this time. Found it, he thought. In his eyes, the box failed to hide the aura of the object he had grown so familiar with in his past.

  Magnus opened the box, taking out the small dark marble within. The accumulated essence within the box was released, instilling an aura of death in the surroundings. Magnus’s actions caused many of the recruits to collapse, leaving Arkus slightly ashamed.

  Arkus looked at them, realizing how foolish he was for thinking people without mana or aura would be able to withstand the first wave of the marble’s accursed power. He could still remember his own wavering feet when Magnus first presented the artifact to him and the council.

  “Disgusting,” Erin muttered, her face frowning in disgust. Her words were soft, but they were enough for both Magnus and Arkus to hear her. Unlike the rebels’ commander, she knew what was about to happen. The aura coming from the object in her guardian’s hands invoked rejection from the principles instilled deep within her soul.

  As Magnus stepped forward, the paladin candidates started spreading through the back of the recruits. In the face of what was coming, they needed to ensure nobody would run away and harm themselves.

  Arkus frowned, realizing the meaning behind the white-robed men’s actions. He had been warned beforehand that the power of the divine object could instill fear in the hearts of most mortal men. It was
just that he had decided to believe in his own recruit’s ability to resist.

  “Now,” said Magnus. “It should be time for you to see what my group is willing to offer.”

  Magnus looked around, confirming everyone was in place. A sly smile full of morbid curiosity formed on his lips as he raised his arm, filling the marble with his mana. It would be his first time using the object after it was cleansed by Erin’s ritual. He knew of the uses behind the magic formations contained within, but there was a difference between knowing them and seeing them.

  Once the energy within the marble reached a saturation point, black miasma started falling from it, spreading through the field in front of the recruits. The longer it spread, the more it was absorbed by the ground. Magnus smiled as he examined the mechanisms through which the marble converted his mana into such a power.

  “What is this?”

  Arkus frowned, realizing the divine object presented by Magnus really had its origins in the Church of Death. The miasma that appeared summoned an instinctive rejection from within him. Living beings were embedded with an instinct to reject death.

  Amro frowned from the back. The use Magnus gave the marble was far from the power it should have displayed. Even with Magnus as its user.

  Broken, huh?

  He realized either the years or the involvement of the church had caused this object of his to deteriorate to the point even someone unfamiliar with the laws of death could use it. If not for that, the self-defense formations he had recorded in the small object would have been enough to wipe the users soul.

  Suddenly, gasps of surprise could be heard from within the recruits. “What is that?” someone asked. He was finding it hard to discern the silhouettes amongst the black mist coming from the miasma.

  “Hey, stop!” screamed another recruit. “There are people there, stop whatever you’re doing.”

  Yet despite their requests, Magnus continued. Unlike the rebels, he was fully aware of who those silhouettes belonged to.

  Arkus felt a sense of incongruence, unable to discern whether he should celebrate or curse under his breath. His superior senses allowed him to see that which the recruits couldn’t. Those weren’t people, they were undead. An army risen of the fallen soldiers who forever rested in this land.

  A strong breeze common to the northern lands soon swept away part of the mist, revealing the same reality to the recruits. Their silence was a successful opening to their incoming reactions of fear. Dozens of them turned around prepared to flee, completely willing to ditch all of their previous training. Alas, they found the initiate paladins from the church blocking their way.

  Feelings of anger rose within the crowd. Humans were creatures with irrational mentalities, fearing the risen undead but forgetting who had given rise to them. All they could think of were ways to get far from the walking corpses.

  “So, what do you think?” asked Magnus. His gaze was firmly planted on Arkus, a smug look of satisfaction from causing so much chaos amongst his recruits etched upon his face. “Are these soldiers enough of a contribution to our alliance?”

  Arkus nodded, unwilling to voice his agreement. The undead had lined up in a formation much too similar to the one his recruits had been in before dispersing from fear. This could only mean one thing.

  They can be controlled.

  The bronze-skinned captain soon approached the undead, covering himself with his aura. A sheen of white trained for decades wrapped around his body, protecting him from the miasma remaining amongst the field of undead. “May I,” he asked?

  Magnus saw the determination in Arkus’s eyes and simply nodded in response. There was no use in rejecting such a basic request.

  *Boom*

  A thunderous blast caused many of the recruits to be taken aback. Many of them gave up their attempts to run, instinctively turning around towards the source of the sound instead.

  They could see Arkus was standing amidst the dissipating field of miasma. His arm was extended in a combat ready position but there was no target in front of him. The undead soldier who had served as his target was nowhere to be seen.

  Only Magnus, Erin, and Amro had been able to see the trajectory of his punch. A simple fist technique loyal to the basics. One Arkus had ingrained in his body through countless hours of training.

  “Stronger than your normal army soldier,” said Arkus. There was a grim expression on his face as he realized the military significance to this result. “They were not this strong when they were alive. It makes no sense.”

  Magnus smirked, offering a simple reply, “The divine rarely does.”

  Chapter 11

  Volunteer.

  The sun reached its peak as a line of confused recruits stared at the ground. They were ashamed. The disappointed gaze of their captain weighted over their hearts far more than the blazing heat did. One simple question from Arkus had been enough to put them back in line.

  “Are you going to run like this when we’re fighting to take back the kingdom?”

  Most of them had run away with what little they had left. Serfs or former nobles, neither wanted to remain as they currently were. Taking back the kingdom meant taking back lands far more fertile than the northern sand they were stepping on. Taking back their kingdom meant having a chance to be reborn as rich men and women.

  Greed — The single most effective way to motivate and control a population. Rivaled only by fear. Those who left to join the rebels had done so based on the first while those who decided to stay as serfs did so on the second.

  “Attention!”

  Arkus stared at the recruits with mixed feelings himself. On one hand, he couldn’t blame them for running away. Undead were not a common sighting.

  On the other hand, he needed to keep a semblance of military discipline in front of the church’s envoys. The military contribution their divine object presented was one that made the possibility of winning a reality. He couldn’t afford to appear to be an unworthy ally.

  “This is our future,” said Arkus, pointing towards the undead. “We will all die, eventually.”

  The morale of the recruits seemed to lower even further at this remark, prompting Arkus to continue, “That’s why we must live our lives with a strong spirit. Running away will never get you anywhere. You must learn to fight!”

  The recruits looked at Arkus. There was hunger in their eyes. Words of encouragement were a drug to those with weak hearts. It helped them drown their own insecurities in the sophistry of others.

  Amro couldn’t help but smirk. Truly a natural born commander. Only someone with both strength and the natural charisma to lead would succeed in making fools give up their life.

  “You got nothing to fear,” continued Arkus. “These undead are our new weapon. With them, we will take back our kingdom from the hands of those who don’t deserve it. We will rise to the glory of our past.”

  Magnus looked at the recruits, his eyes crossed each of their innocent faces, eventually settling on Amro’s. The unusual calmness displayed by the boy gave him an unexplainable feeling of unease. Even when everyone was running away, he just seemed to follow along. There was no fear in his gait. Someone like that is difficult to control.

  “Captain Arkus,” said Magnus. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I have a proposition.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Don’t you think it would be for the best to have your recruits learn the strength of these undead beforehand? They will be fighting side by side in the future after all.”

  Arkus nodded. “I’m aware, but how do you propose we do that?”

  “In order for your recruits to lose their fear, there is one simple solution,” said Magnus. “We can have them fight. A simple spar, of course. I’m sure you still want to confirm what level of control these undead can achieve in the battlefield.”

  Arkus didn’t outright reject the idea. Instead, he voiced his doubts, “I’m afraid that would end up injuring the recruits. I can’t put their safe
ty in danger for something like this.”

  Magnus turned to look at the recruits and gave up a sigh. After all, he wanted to run his own set of tests with these undead. That was something he would be unable to do on his own as long as he was acting as a representative of the church. Erin’s presence meant he couldn’t put her at risk with selfish decisions.

  “Would you be willing to allow it if one of them volunteers?” Magnus asked. His tone of voice conveyed his unwillingness to give up.

  Arkus sighed, giving the old mage a look of pity. “You can try, but you saw them earlier. While they may eventually come to accept the undead as allies, I doubt any of them will be willing to spar with one.”

  “I’ll make it worth their while,” said Magnus. There was a faint smile on his lips. “Recruits, listen to me! The basis of every alliance is trust in each other’s strength, so I come to you with an offer.”

  Magnus took a deep breath before continuing, “A one-on-one fight. One of you against one of these undead. Of course, as members of the church we will guarantee your safety. The paladins behind you all are able to heal any injury you may receive from the confrontation.”

  The recruits looked at each other. No one seemed to be willing to fight against the undead. Even their dull instincts were sharp enough to tell them it was a bad idea.

  Magnus saw the hesitation in their eyes and continued, “To anyone who wins against one or lasts more than a minute, I will give them a flask of holy water blessed by the cardinal of our church. As you may know, it is a strong medicine able to help in the recovery of most wounds. It is akin to having a second life in the battlefield.”

  Magnus’s offer steered the interest of the crowd. Holy water? That was something even the former nobles had lost access to after being banished from Nyx’s capital.

  Despite their best judgement, a few adult men took a step forward. As people who had never joined the military in Nyx, they had no option but to join the rebels as recruits. At this point in their lives, they lacked the wealth necessary to join into another position. Fortunately for them, their age and physiques provided them an advantage many of the younger recruits lacked.