by Ink Bamboo
“I see,” answered Michael, slightly surprised by the elder’s passionate hatred. “Could I bother you by asking if there is anything else worth noting about him?"
The noble was eager to help. Not only did he get something to save his wife, he could also take revenge on the target of his hatred. “Of course,” he said. “I've heard from my sources that the little demon is an envoy from the rebels. It seems like he has been stirring those rats from the slums to take arms and rebel against the Kingdom.”
“Interesting.”
From what the priest had heard earlier that day in the city's center, the boy's relationship with the rebels was widely accepted as a fact. Have the rebels really formed an alliance with that evil god's church? he wondered. Are they really that desperate?
With a quick farewell, he left the noble and his remaining guards behind. Of course, he reminded them to fulfill his request of reporting the news towards the other nobles. He was short on time, and he still wanted to confirm whether the west and south had been affected by the poison as well.
Now, he had to choose which place to visit first. He was sure that going to the southern district would probably end up being fruitless. It was probably in the same condition as the northern district, with a great number of people affected. More than he could deal with. He just didn’t have the manpower, mana, or holy water required to help them on his own.
His best option was to go and confirm whether the western side had its water sources poisoned as well. If the newcomer was really related to the rebels and to the plague like the nobles seemed to think, then perhaps he could get some answers from him.
“Why is my luck so bad?”
He hated having to involve himself in political conflicts. However, if the boy was related to the church of death in any way, he wouldn’t hold himself back. Even if his abilities as a rank two priest were easily disregarded in the capital, they should be more than enough to deal with some kid.
Thus, he made his way to the west.
Chapter 25
Broken perspectives.
Earlier that day, as the morning light graced the town of Sol, Zaros sat against a wall in one of the slums' many streets. Try as he might, he couldn’t forget Slyfox’s words. There was no denying that his decisions had been too rash.
Was I wrong? he asked himself. Should I have kept Slyfox's system? I don't know how many more people will get dragged into this because of my actions. Perhaps some of them deserve it, but those who don't shouldn't have to pay for my mistakes.
Zaros couldn't help but recall the way Maria had been dragged off to the slave dungeon of Baron Lapas. Thug or not, no one deserved a fate like that, no matter how short the experience had been. Especially not Maria. Even with a tough mask built from years of living in the slums, she had proven to be someone with a kind side.
Waves of doubt rippled in Zaros’s mind. Was he willing to make sacrifices like that every time he wanted to accomplish something? What about his eventual goal of taking down the royalty of this kingdom?
He hadn't thought about it before, but if nobles had their guards, it was likely the royalty had an army defending them too. Would he be willing to take hundreds of lives to avenge a few dozen? Didn’t that make him no different from those he so much despised?
Conflicting emotions clashed in his heart. Neither Alexander nor Maria’s words had managed to soothe his worries. The seed of doubt was planted.
After all, wasn’t he the same as Slyfox? In the end, all the reagents he had used to advance to rank one had been paid by the gang's scarce resources. At first he didn’t think much of it, but now he realized how selfish his actions had been.
How could he say he had been guarding the interests of this people? All he did was make choices that would affect them all. Not mentioning Maria's kidnapping, something as basic as limiting the sources of their income could completely change their lives.
Under what pretensions had he, an outsider, judged their actions to be wrong?
*Crack!*
At this moment, Zaros wasn’t in the mood to deal with whatever plan the nobles would come up with in retaliation. The small imprint of his fist on a wall made that much obvious. His current guilt and angst gave him too much to think about.
“Times like this make it obvious just how young and naïve you are,” said Amro, annoyed by the boy’s inability to fight his negative thoughts. “Cut it out already.”
“And how old are you supposed to be?” retorted Zaros. “For all you criticize me and my decisions, there is little you have told me about yourself.”
Amro sighed in silence, unhappy with being challenged. It took a great amount of self-control not to reveal his identity to the boy in order to make his point. Such rashness would offer him no benefits at this time. Neither would his host’s attachment to this town. As far as he was concerned, he just wanted to be over with Zaros’s revenge in order to continue with his own.
Of course, some things were off better not said.
“Perhaps it is time you move away from this city, boy. Your attachment to this people is becoming a burden to your mind.”
Zaros only thought about it for a moment before giving his answer.
“I’m not weak,” said Zaros. “On the contrary. It would be cowardly of me to run away after turning their lives upside-down. I can't just leave them to their own fate now."
Fool, your desire to protect them will be what brings their demise, thought Amro. I’ve given you a warning, but it’s up to you to deal with the consequences of your choice.
Ever since the night before, Amro had a premonition. A very small part of his former clergy would try to reach out to him, or at the very least, what they thought was his legacy on earth. After all, the methods he had employed to hide from fate and divinations were far from perfect during the time he crafted his phylactery.
At this moment, however, he had no use for his former clergy. As a matter of fact, getting involved with them could complicate his plans. Being hidden from the pantheon of Gaia was his biggest advantage in his road to revenge.
“Boy, remember my words. Our path is one of death and loneliness. Relying extensively on others will eventually result in a future you’re not able to shoulder. Your presence here might be more troublesome to them than your absence. Just think it over and walk away.”
Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t offer some of his goodwill to Zaros. If the church tracked him down to this town, the fate of the townsfolk would become complicated. Death always followed behind his followers.
"How can you be sure something bad will happen to them?" mocked Zaros. "No one can see the future, it is in us to forge our own path."
"Big words for such a small boy," retorted Amro. It bothered him that his advice was taken so lightly. "Very well, then. Do not complain that I didn't warn you beforehand in the future."
Zaros laughed it off. Bantering with Amro had helped him put aside some of his worries. Truth to be told, he knew he would achieve nothing mourning over his past decisions. Right now, he just needed to see them through.
Realizing the sun was already reaching its peak in the sky, he couldn't help but pay attention to his growing hunger. It had been nearly a day since he last had something to eat. It would be a waste not to go and get himself something to splurge on after getting his hands on Baron Lapas’s wealth.
Thus, Zaros went to the city's center to find something to eat. What he found was a plaza exuberant with life and joy. People crowded the streets while bards entertained them with music. It was nothing like its usual appearance.
He could see several stores, all of them enjoying an abundance of customers. He could even recognize a few familiar faces amongst them. It seemed like yesterday's loot had made many of his subordinates forget about their economic limitations. All in all, it was a pleasant surprise.
He entered a small shop blessed with the sweet smell of pastries. It was a commodity rarely seen in his village, one he hadn't been able to experien
ce before. He opened the door to the fancy looking establishment, only to see several customers turn to look at him with surprise on their faces. Some of them muttered under their breath while others quickly paid their bills and left the shop.
Ignoring everyone’s reaction to his presence, Zaros took a seat. After a few seconds, an attendant stood to his side. Auburn hair with bangs covering her ears gave her a cute but tidy appearance.
“Hello, sir. What can I get you today?” she asked, a deep glint of admiration showing in her eyes. It was easy to guess she was a commoner who sympathized with Zaros.
“Just bring me something sweet,” requested Zaros. In the past, the children from his village had often mocked him for ignoring the taste of sweets. Now that he had had a chance, he wouldn’t hesitate to have some. “And some herbal tea, please.”
“Anything in particular, sir?”
“Surprise me.”
After waiting some time by the window, a different shop attendant brought him his order. A soothing, golden liquid in a gilded cup, and a piece of strawberry cake were placed before him. His mouth watered as he experienced the smell of desserts for the first time.
He couldn’t help but mutter his praises unconsciously after having a bite, “Delicious.”
The flavor of the strawberries perfectly complemented the spongy texture of the cake. His experience was only enriched by the gold-colored tea he had ordered. If he could enjoy something like this every day, then he might consider a new road in life.
Childish, thought Amro. Did such a simple dessert merit such praise? What kind of delicacies had he not tasted in this world? If only his host truly understood the importance of power, then the boy would realize that with it, he could eat whatever he wanted.
Even the attendants thought Zaros’s reaction was a bit overboard. To them, it was just a piece of cake, nothing special. Wasn’t he supposed to be the new lord of the slums? What was it with his behavior?
Nonetheless, Zaros kept enjoying his cake, ignoring the reactions of all of those around him. This was a new experience for him. Ever since he was a child, most of his diet had consisted on the leftovers the villagers gave him out of pity or the meat from those wild animals he managed to hunt. Enjoying the delicacies before him was worth ignoring his surroundings.
That being said, Amro was determined to not let the kid enjoy his snack. After all, the surroundings his host was so set on ignoring were quite important right now. "Boy, don't you think you should see what that's about?"
"What?" asked the dumbfounded Zaros. The call of his cake was far too strong for him to ignore. So strong, in fact, that he failed to notice the commotion that had been currently occurring outside the shop.
"Look out the window to your right," replied the annoyed death god. At times like this, he couldn't help but question whether fate had done the right thing by tying together their paths.
Reluctant to stop eating, Zaros looked out the window. Once he did, he found what Amro was going on about. A crowd seemed to be gathering around two men and a woman. The men were dressed like the people from his village used to, and the woman wore an eye-catching dress unfit for any manual labor.
“I think you better check what’s going on around there,” advised Amro.
Unwilling to leave the first dessert of his life unfinished, Zaros gobbled it up in a matter of seconds. It was unrefined, but effective. After placing a gold coin on the table, he opened the window, using the ledges in the building to climb towards the roof. From that vantage point, he could hear and see everything going on with more clarity.
"Please hear us out, residents of Sol. The rebels are upon us! Please, ready yourselves before you suffer the same fate as we did," said one of the two men standing at the center of the crowd.
Zaros's eyes twitched as he listened to the man's words. He claimed to be from the southern villages, a survivor of some kind. It was a situation he was skeptical about. When he and Amro investigated, they found no survivors left.
Not giving him time to think things through, the other ‘villager’ echoed. "Our families were massacred, our friends burned to ashes. Ready yourselves, the rebels are coming!"
And they are just showing up now? pondered Zaros. The events they speak of happened nearly a month ago. More than anyone, Zaros was aware of the events that had transpired down south. The fact that he had seen other villages affected, meant village had been the last on the mercenaries’ list. For these two men to have appeared now, he couldn't help but feel that something sketchy was going on.
"Do you see, my dear people? The rebels might attack our town very soon. The peace we’ve worked so hard to build is being threatened. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had been working on this for long, eroding the harmony we all had achieved. As a matter of fact, don't you think there is someone in particular who has tried to divide us?" said the woman next to them.
It was clear she was using her appearance to hide the deception behind her words.
Anger erupted from within Zaros's heart. Was this the plan of the kingdom’s royalty? Did they really intend to use the tragedy of his people as a political tool?
He couldn't continue listening to the words coming out of her mouths. Instead, he ingrained their faces into his memory. Zaros was now convinced those two ‘villagers’ were somehow involved with what had happened to his village.
Amro, however, noticed something else. “Boy, keep watching.”
Zaros suppressed his emotions, focusing once again on the crowd. A woman carrying a child in her arms made her way through the rows of people, pushing everyone aside without a second thought.
"They poisoned my son!" cried the woman. "Please, my lady, please help him. I found him like this next to the well."
"How did you know that was going to happen?" asked Zaros. He felt Amro’s foresight was incredibly uncanny at times.
“I sensed a putrid aura coming from that boy,” answered Amro. “Someone used a bastardized version of the power from death’s laws on him."
Zaros’s eyes grew wide. The only other time he had heard Amro mention the so-called 'laws of death' was when he was instructing him inside his soul domain. It was still something far from what he could comprehend, but he knew it carried some serious implications.
"Boy, you might want to go back to your subordinates," instructed the fallen death god. "It’s too late to leave town. Whatever targeted that boy will be coming for the town next."
Hearing Amro's serious tone, Zaros ran back to his base, jumping from roof to roof until he reached the slums. On his way there, he noticed more people lying around on the streets than normal. They seemed strangely fragile, almost like they were struck by disease.
A feeling of dread filled him, causing him to approach a man lying down on the ground. He turned the man over, only to see his skin covered with decaying black spots.
"What in the heavens?" gasped the boy. It was his first time seeing something like this up close.
"Shade of death," explained Amro. "A failed product created by mixing nightshade, cores of Goz beasts, and a few other ingredients. It’s the result of combining beginner necromantic and alchemical arts."
"Can you cure it?" asked the boy, ignoring the words he wasn’t familiar with. He didn't want to see people affected by something he sensed was related to him.
“It would be best if we just left town,” argued the fallen death god. “This is related to your presence here.”
“No, I feel that there is something you're not telling me,” retorted Zaros.
With an annoyed grunt, Amro decided to answer the boy. “I warned you about it earlier, but you took it as a joke. Last night, I felt someone use a tracking spell on us. They should be the ones responsible for this.”
“They?” asked Zaros. He felt Amro knew more than he let on.
“Apostles of death, or at least cheap imitations of the real kind. This poorly crafted poison is probably their work,” Amro explained.
“Apostles of death?”
asked Zaros. “No, never mind. Can you save them then? If this is our fault, it's the least we can do for them.”
Sensing a headache would assault his incorporeal soul if he refused, Amro reluctantly agreed. “I can, but I feel it is more trouble than it's worth. If anything, I'll do it because letting them die to this failure of a poison would be an insult to my craft.”
Not understanding the comment, Zaros decided to push his luck a little further. “Great, what do I have to do to save them?”
“Just give me control. It will be easier that way,” said Amro.
Not long after he finished saying those words, Amro felt Zaros’s consciousness leave for his soul realm. It seemed like the boy truly cared about saving the people from the slums.
How annoying, thought Amro. I’ll have to punish whatever fool is leading my church for interfering in my plans.
All he could hope for was that the poison hadn't affected too many people. Amro hated bothersome tasks.
Chapter 26
Hope.
A series of makeshift beds had been set up in the slums’ streets. Dozens of people lied down on the torn sheets and bundles of clothing, either gasping for breath or coughing out phlegms of dark color. They were the victims of the poison spreading inside the town of Sol.
While those afflicted by the poison had no choice on the matter, those who were still healthy had two paths available to them. The first choice was obvious: they could flee the city, prioritizing their own safety above everything else. The second, on the other hand, was less attractive and chosen only by a few. That was, of course, to stay.
It had been hours since the situation had developed into this state, but the hearts of the afflicted remained strong unlike their northern or southern counterparts. The reason for their strength stemmed from a single source — Zaros.
While he looked naïve and childish at times, at moments like this, he was proved them he was very reliable. Of course, no one amongst them knew that they were dealing not with Zaros, but Amro.