Rebirth of the Undead King: Book 2

by Ink Bamboo

  “Get to the point,” said Arkus. For someone whose own daughter had been affected by the prince’s cruelty, Jan could prove to be equally despicable at times.

  “Right. As I was telling you, the castle’s distribution hasn’t changed much. Perhaps the biggest thing to note would be that the king decided to invite some guests from the mainland to stay within during the past week. We should be careful not to provoke them, lest they have a strong backing.”

  “Of course,” answered Richard. As someone who grew in the palace, he was aware just how big the difference was between his kingdom and those of the mainland. Even if both his father and brother pretended it wasn’t the case, they had always lowered their heads when they received a visit from mainlanders.

  “Arkus, make sure to deliver that as an order to the troops.”

  “Will do,” answered the bronze-skinned man. “I’ll let them know as soon as we take a stop.”

  Glancing back, the core of the rebels’ army could be seen marching calmly behind them. Officers and adjutants rode on their horses, with the rest of the troops walking on foot. Horses were a commodity mostly used to drag their provisions, which were still a necessity despite it being only a couple days of travel to the kingdom. Who knew what they would find there?

  They had considered salvaging some beasts of burden from Nyx’s fallen army, but much to their misfortune, the undead had left them with little chance to do so. Apparently, hunger was not as absent from them as they had initially thought. Even undead soldiers had a maintenance cost.

  “What should we do about the prince’s escape?” asked Nolan, carefully shooting a disdainful look towards Arkus. He still hadn’t let go over the issue. “Won’t they be on guard towards our arrival?”

  “Only if they intend to guard themselves against our army with untrained civilians,” scoffed Arkus. “I know their army’s composition like the back of my hand. After the last battle, they don’t have that many troops to spare.”

  “I can confirm that,” noted Jan. “Still, I don’t expect them to put much resistance. While it might have been good to capture the prince for diplomatic purposes, I’m sure his defeat won’t be taken kindly by the nobles. Those treacherous fools will realize the situation and might even deliver the royal family to us in a silver platter as a token of their allegiance.”

  “Let’s hope that’s how it turns out to be,” said Katherine. “It would be great not to spill a single drop of blood in our side for this victory.”

  “Things rarely go that well,” replied Nolan. “You lot are far too idealistic.”

  “Perhaps,” said Richard, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t think the idea is that far-fetched, though. We don’t even have the division captains to worry about.”

  “What’s that all about?” asked Arkus. That last part of the conversation had turned all of his attention towards Richard.

  “Oh,” said Jan, an awkward smile of realization on his face. “I was telling Richard about that earlier. Apparently, the king sent all of them away in a mission to the mainland. Quite a foolish thing to do when they had to send their army to attack us.”

  Waving the fan in her hand, Katherine immediately asked, “Do they really look down on us that much?”

  “That just might be the case,” answered Richard. “This is my brother we’re speaking about. I don’t know what my father was thinking.”

  Arkus expression grew dim, a look of confusion clouding his eyes.

  “What’s the issue, big guy?” asked Katherine.

  “It’s just odd,” noted Arkus. “In all my years serving him, the king never displayed any interest in the mainland. Why would he order such a thing, much less when he’s facing an insurrection?”

  “You will be able to ask him yourself,” answered Richard, waving away his concerns. “After I have a talk with him, of course.”

  “You don’t think he sent them to request help, do you?” asked Nolan, a slight tone of worry in his voice.

  “Not with the amounts of wealth the kingdom has available at this time,” noted Richard. “I saw my father try to recruit experts from the mainland a few times. It never ended well when they realized what he was able to offer. Now that the kingdom is down on its knees, there is even less at my brother’s disposal.”

  “Let’s hope that’s the case,” said Arkus.

  “Wow, leave it to you boys to ruin the mood,” mocked Katherine. “I’m off to speak with the troops. It must be hard for them to march with that horde undead behind them. More so after what they witnessed.”

  “They’re under full control,” noted Jan, showing her the marble in his hands. “It’s not like they will do anything without me ordering them to.”

  “You’re missing the point,” replied Katherine.

  Witnessing a victory that required not a bit of their participation was bound to demoralize many of the soldiers. It had robbed them of their chance to personally take revenge. Once the craze of their victory passed, this would become another source of trouble, one that would stir many factions into action.

  Clever as they are, they can be surprisingly dense, thought Katherine. She was not too knowledgeable about military affairs, but inside the council, her knowledge of human nature was second to none.

  ✽✽✽

  “Erin, stay close to me,” said Magnus, placing a hand in front of the young Chosen. “Do not go anywhere.”

  The battle had begun. Taking a step forward, Magnus rapidly conjured a series of blazing fires. Weaving and controlling them with his hands, his first choice was to send them to block the hordes of enemies coalescing in the streets. Stopping the empty-minded drones from swarming both him and his entourage was first amongst his priorities. Short of protecting Erin, it also served to give them some time to regroup.

  Something the cardinal didn’t let go to waste.

  Taking advantage of Magnus’s quick thinking, he immediately started giving his orders. “Everyone, form teams of three! I want one paladin, one priest, and one soldier in every unit. You are to stay close to each other.”

  “I’ll allow it,” said the prince, noticing the gazes of his troops fall upon him. “If this it the work of the Church of Death, as they say it is, then we’ll need all the help we can get.”

  Before long, small teams of three were ready to face their opponents, just in time to resist the first clash against them when Magnus’s flames started to wane.

  Magnus, on the other hand, took the opportunity to take a couple steps back to catch his breath. Ever since his teleportation spell had been interrupted, the mana in the surroundings had refused to hear his call. Thus, like a branded criminal who was refused service at the inn, Magnus had been forced to use the reserves of the precious essence he kept pooled inside his own body. Without them, he wouldn’t have been able to gain his side a fair chance to fight.

  After calming his breathing, Magnus turned around, secretly expecting to see Erin amazed by his actions. Unfortunately, he was met with disappointment. She was no longer around. Without his knowledge, Erin had gone off to fight, joining the cardinal and the prince in a symbolic party to repel off the attackers.

  “Stubborn kid,” muttered Magnus. “I wish she was like this for something other than the church.”

  “Magnus!” yelled the cardinal, rudely interrupting his thoughts. “Are you just going to stay there?”

  It’s not that easy, thought the mage.

  During his stay with the rebels, Magnus had been afflicted with a serious condition. One which no amount of holy water had managed to cure. Every time he exerted his body beyond normal means, a wave of exhaustion would wash over him, leaving him both short of breath and fighting a terrible headache. It had gotten better with time, but Magnus had learned he needed to pace himself correctly. Not doing so would quickly deteriorate his condition, something that could become lethal in a battle like the one he was fighting.

  His instincts told him this was no coincidence. Just like the chain of events tha
t had been unleashed upon this city. Events that were bound to get way more troublesome with time, making him appreciate the fact that not everyone was in a condition as bad as his own.

  Eventually, Magnus felt he was ready. Looking to his right, he spotted many of the members of his side. Surrounded as they were, the priests and paladins made a very solid combination in a battle of attrition. Aided by soldiers who had been guarding the prince, they were managing to put a fierce resistance against the waves currently swarming them all over.

  Still, this wasn’t the place of the battlefield that needed him the most. The waves of mindless civilians attacking them were troublesome, yes, but they weren’t as dangerous as him. The apostle they had met upon entering the city.

  Magnus still remembered him. He had been amongst the group he had let go shortly after he first accepted this mission. Back then, Magnus could have killed him in a great variety of ways with a simple wave of his hand. Now, things had changed.

  Protected by the magical formation inscribed in the city walls, the man boasted a defense both Magnus and the cardinal had trouble breaking. It afforded him the luxury of just standing in the sidelines, mocking their group every time he got a chance.

  “Keep trying,” the apostle taunted, a cheeky grin on his face. “You might be able to finish them off by noon tomorrow.”

  There was a sense of security behind those words, the idea of defeat simply non-existent in his mind. It made it clear he had a backup plan. And Magnus feared what or who that might be.

  Thus, Magnus’s thoughts worked overtime as he tried to figure a way out of this. Every opportunity he got, he would cast a spell in the apostle’s direction, the glyphs drawn in the city walls glowing when he did. He was trying to figure out any weakness in the magical formation, vying for anything that could give him a chance to escape.

  “Damn it,” said Magnus, slowly calming his breath. “That’s not it either.”

  Soon after he examined the walls, he had briefly noted they were some kind of soul tampering formation. His knowledge on the matter could be attributed to his previous analysis of the dark marble before he handed it to the rebels. The principles behind them were oddly similar.

  Did they find out we acquired the marble? wondered Magnus, thinking about the motives that could have driven the Church of Death to this city. No, they would have said something when I met them in the forest. Something else has to be going on. I have to remember… what did they tell me their goal was?

  “Focus!” roared one of the prince’s soldiers, smashing the skull of a woman trying to tackle the old mage. “You’ll get us all killed at this rate.”

  “That’s it!” exclaimed Magnus, taking the soldier by surprise. It was never about us…

  “Stupid old man,” muttered the soldier. He was far too busy to stay in place and listen to Magnus’s ramblings. Immediately, he ran away to smash another man running towards the direction of his group.

  They were hunting someone, Magnus remembered. In all likelihood, we aren’t their target. Instead, we might have stumbled into a trap intended for him of all things.

  Taking a step to the side to dodge a random man throwing himself in his direction, Magnus burned a scroll of parchment in his hands, leaving a trail of ash behind. The smoke coming from it soon formed the shape of a skull in the air, quickly dissipating in the direction of the city’s castle.

  “I can’t believe my luck,” noted Magnus, turning his gaze towards the same direction where the smoke vanished into. “I was right. Vengeful bastard, he decided to take things into his own hands.”

  Worried, Magnus looked in Erin’s direction, a single conclusion now shadowing each of his thoughts: We have to find a way out of here.

  ✽✽✽

  While Magnus pondered how to escape, the cardinal doubled down on his efforts to eliminate the threat that now faced them. Originally, he had been in a good mood, ready to successfully fulfill yet another mission for his goddess. Now, however, that good mood had vanished, replaced only by rage as the success of his mission was threatened by his church’s greatest enemy.

  Fireflies of light moved around with the cardinal, each of them entering the foreheads of the mindless horde attacking his party. Every time they did, the heads of his targets would burst into fire, leaving nothing of them behind. It was a very effective way of dealing with individuals who otherwise didn’t seem to worry or care about the damage to their bodies.

  However, seeing an endless stream of people replacing the fallen, the old zealot couldn’t help but reach the bottom of his patience.

  “Get lost!” yelled the cardinal, his foot stamping loudly along with his words. “Burn!”

  Following the cardinal’s stomp, a blinding wave of light expanded with him as the center, leaving hundreds immolated in its wake. Fortunately, a simple barrier branded by a follower of the church was enough to stop its damage. Otherwise, Magnus, the prince, and even some of the troops wouldn’t have been able to endure it.

  Someone took considerable damage from the light, however. A certain individual who didn’t have the luxury of having a priest of light at his side. Someone who had never expected to receive damage from the attacks of puny invaders. The apostle of death.

  “Argh!”

  So far, he had been immune to the attacks directed at him by the paladins and the priests. Every time they tried, the faint glow of a barrier had blocked them away. This time, however, the attack had proven effective. There were charred pieces of skin falling from his face.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t the attack’s true target. Angry as he was, the cardinal could still see the bigger picture. Thus, his true aim had been the walls of the city all along. The magic inscribed in them carried dangers his instincts kept warning him about.

  Sadly, that had proven ineffective. The sigils on the walls had only needed to glow for a moment, absorbing the light that had tried to destroy them. Despite the cardinal’s efforts, he had failed.

  “Stupid light-bearer,” muttered the apostle, flakes of skin falling from his body. “This is not enough to destroy my lord’s masterpiece. Nothing you do will ever be.”

  The cardinal frowned, his expression turning grim as he contemplated the lackluster results of his attack. There was a limit to how many times he could power his abilities with all of his strength. Especially so in an environment that was messing with his state of mind. He had to reconsider his options.

  “Prince! What’s the population of your city?”

  The dumbfounded royal wiped the sweat off his brows. The scare caused by the cardinal’s earlier attack was still imprinted in his mind. “A little over ten thousand civilians,” he eventually answered. “Assuming they’re all in this accursed state, that is.”

  Damn it! thought the cardinal. I must work on the notion they have the whole population of this place under their control. With so many in their side, I can’t make assurances of our victory.

  Members from the church of death always had an uncanny penchant towards using others to accomplish their goals. Intimidation, mind magic, and even soul puppetry — everything was fair game in their eyes. For a church, they were far too liberal about their use of the forbidden arts. Especially so in recent years.

  It made the cardinal consider whether the people he was fighting were some new variation of undead. The fact that he could still sense a soul inside them, however, had proved him wrong. Undead with a soul were something he had never heard of.

  High ranked priests like him often developed a sixth sense that allowed them to ‘feel’ the souls of other people. In the case of the horde going against him, he could sense theirs was still present. Damaged and mutilated, perhaps, but present nonetheless.

  Eventually, the cardinal realized what he was facing. The piece of a foreign aura attached to the souls of his enemies had been enough to reveal the truth. They were victims of soul puppetry. A product of dark arts taken to a scale never seen before.

  But such a revelation didn’t come
without a cost. Paranoia. Wherever there was a puppet, there was also a puppet-master. Something that forced the cardinal to scan his surroundings in an effort to find him, lest he was taken by surprise.

  “Wait…” said the cardinal, suddenly noticing something strange. Aren’t we getting farther from the gate?

  Yes, he eventually noted. Without knowing it, most of his team had been moving towards the insides of the city. “Everyone! Hold your ground, tighten the formation.”

  Looks of confusion were shot in the cardinal’s direction. The priests and paladins didn’t hesitate to obey, but even they wondered what had motivated such a command. So far, they had been clearing the waves of people without any issue. Only the prince and his men seemed pained about the loss of the citizens, but even they got the gist of the situation.

  Holding back would serve them no purpose at this time.

  “Your holiness, what’s happening?” asked one of the paladins. “Why did you stop us? At this rate, we won’t be done with them for an entire day.”

  “Look at the gate you fool!” chided the cardinal. “We’re being drawn deeper into the city. The unholy magic coming from those walls is dulling your senses.”

  “Yes, sir!” answered the paladin. A quick conscious gaze in the gate’s direction was enough to make him aware of the situation. “I’ll go inform the rest.”

  “Go,” answered the cardinal. Since there was something going on in the background, he needed to start preparing counter-measures of his own. He was not about to give up. If they wanted to trap him and his men, they would have to do much more than this.

  A list of options rapidly coursed through his mind, leaving him with a few from where to pick. First and foremost was contacting the rest of his forces. If he could manage to call for reinforcements, he was sure he could raze this city and its inhabitants to the ground. The men fighting alongside him weren’t all he had at his disposal.

  No, most of the forces under his control were still camping far from the city, waiting for the order to ambush the rebels and the undead army they had built. So much for that. Those troops would now have to fill another purpose now — a purge.