Rebirth of the Undead King: Book 1 Read online

"Information is power, kid. I'm still not that familiar with this place. Things have changed too much with the passage of time. It's not like a country bumpkin like you could provide me the answers I need," clarified Amro.

  Zaros rolled his eyes at Amro’s backhanded insult before he took the map and spread it across the floor. His village hadn’t had more than a few maps. They were stored in the village elder’s home, and he had only seen them before because Alice had invited him over a couple of times.

  This map was different from the one he had seen, however. The details in the mountains and rivers took Zaros’s breath away. He had no way to know that a map this detailed was an extremely expensive commodity. Only the wealthy or criminals who stole them had the fortune of possessing maps of this grade.

  Through Zaros’s eyes, Amro took in the information displayed on the map. They were currently in the border town of Sol. It could be said that town was divided into five parts. The northern and southern areas hosted the commoners. The west, where they sat, held the slums. And the east had been reserved for the rich. The center of the city was described as an area existing for the sole purpose of trade, and it was managed by commoners, merchants and nobles alike. Given the level of detail pertaining to this city, it could be assumed that this map was drawn by a local.

  South of them was the forest of Halt, something Amro had already known. And towards their north were a few towns and villages, all placed in between them and the capital city of Nyx. North of that was a mountain range blocking access to a new land. Unsurprisingly, the level of detail dwindled the further the map covered.

  The kingdom seemed less developed to the west where only a few settlements were marked on the map. On the other hand, the east seemed to flourish with several rivers, trade routes, villages and even a couple of towns. The map even included a line marking the start of another kingdom towards the northeast of Nyx.

  Zaros stared at the map, impressed by the size of the kingdom. He understood little of cartography, but that didn't stop him from being shocked at the sheer amount of information displayed by this map.

  Amro wasn't sure if the information was accurate, but he currently had no other sources to depend on. At the very least, he was satisfied by Zaros’s desire for knowledge. That was a good trait to have in a student.

  Following Amro's instructions, Zaros opened several other maps. The information inside them differed slightly from one to another, but none of them contained as much details as the first. After a while, Amro was able to form a mental picture of surrounding areas. At the very least, he was sure they would be able to travel inside the kingdom of Nyx without getting lost.

  Amro learned a few details regarding the identity of the groups in charge of the different areas of the kingdom. The power struggles signaled the decline of the kingdom, especially towards the north, where a conflict seemed to be happening. A group of rebel soldiers was backed by the surrounding towns and villages as they fought against the kingdom’s royalty.

  A few hypotheses slowly took shape in Amro's mind. Perhaps the order to exterminate the southern villages was done in order to prevent an upheaval from the southern villages. Rather than fight two fronts at the same time, they opted to take preemptive measures. I wouldn’t be surprised if this town was next on their purge-list.

  It’s either that or the possibility that the forest villages were in the way of exploiting a resource they need. Regardless, the kingdom is currently unstable.

  Eventually, Zaros closed the maps and tidied them up. Once he was done with them, he looked at the ingredients brought in by the girl.

  “Take them out and smell them,” said Amro. He wanted to check each one of the ingredients’ quality through Zaros’s senses.

  “Why?”

  “Don’t ask, just do it.”

  The boy carefully took some of the herbs outside their bags, frowning at the scent some of them carried. A few of the ingredients smelled familiar. In particular, the presence of a plant often used by the village’s hunters to create poison gave him a bad premonition.

  Meanwhile, Amro took a mental note of the ingredients’ quality. They were rather lacking, but it should suffice for what he had intended to do with them. While thinking about how he should process the ingredients in the best way possible, he decided to explain his current plan to Zaros.

  "Kid," he said. "I'll be preparing a concoction to let you advance in rank. After you do so, I'll start training you in the use of both mana and aura." There were benefits to training the child inside his soul’s domain, the amount of guidance he could cram per unit of time was just one of them.

  “A potion?” asked Zaros. “Did you use to be an alchemist?”

  “Not quite,” answered Amro, unwilling to touch upon the subject of his past. “Just know that you need to take this before I teach you how to use mana and aura.”

  "Why did we not practice them before? Why do we have to wait until after I advance in rank?" questioned Zaros. Amro’s previous requests had involved throwing him into painful situations back in the forest. Even if he had witnessed their results, he had grown skeptical about them.

  “A mortal's body is weak by nature,” explained Amro. “They're unable to handle powers like mana and aura without a unique constitution. Unfortunately for us, your physique is as common as a river rock.”

  “Moreover,” said Amro, “your current body is heavily burdened whenever I decide to use my skills. I need to get that out of my way."

  Zaros frowned. He was only a child, but he was already able to hunt forest beasts. This was especially true after he went through Amro’s last week of training. He questioned what kind of standards Amro had in mind when he kept calling him weak.

  “Nevertheless, you need to grow stronger in order to accomplish your goals. Your heart will never be at peace if I keep doing all the hard work for you,” said Amro, a tinge of complaint in his voice.

  Zaros finally gave in. It was true; he had requested Amro to help him achieve power. It was only proper for him to believe in Amro's methods now that his mentor offered him a way to solve his plight.

  "Okay, what do you need me to do then?" asked Zaros.

  "Let me take over, I'll prepare the items first," Amro replied.

  ✽✽✽

  On the building’s lower floors, a girl sat down to eat with her brother. It was Alexander’s younger sister, Maria. Sensing her arrival, her older brother turned to look at her, surprised by how quick she had returned.

  “I thought you went to the boss’s room to give him some food?”

  She looked at him with a dejected expression. The tray of food she had prepared was supposed to be a token to ease whatever grudges their boss might still have towards them. She didn’t want their future to be destroyed because of a single mistake. Without the gang backing the two, both of them would become victims to the ire of many whom they had offended before.

  “Maria,” said a feeble voice. “Is there any chance I can eat that?”

  The girl turned to look at another child from the gang. His pitiful expression combined with the grime on his face cracked the girl’s heart. It wasn’t strange to see children starve, even those working under gangs didn’t get to eat as much as they should.

  “Here you go, Jake,” she said, extending the food in his direction. A soft smile blossomed on her face as she saw the boy wolf down the food. “Don’t forget to pay me back later.”

  Most children inside the gang shared no blood relations. Blood, however, held little meaning to a family of misfits. Noble’s children betraying each other under their quest for wealth was enough to evidence the nature of blood.

  Alexander took a look at the kid and sighed. He wondered whether the heavens truly had eyes. The gentleness his sister displayed to others, despite the roughness the world had treated her with, was enough for him to believe there was no justice left in the world. He knew that unlike him, she just went along with the whole criminal charade. It was her way to cope with their reality.


  “So?” he asked. “What happened when you were delivering our new boss his lunch?”

  “It seemed like he was talking to someone,” she said. “I didn’t want to interrupt because it could end up making things worse for us.”

  Alexander nodded in approval. A wise choice indeed. Were it not for his sister’s hot temperament and her insecurities, she would probably strike it rich with her smarts. Last night’s events proved to be a prime example. Maria’s plan to mug a young boy resulted in unforeseen consequences, ones that had led them to their current problem.

  Alexander couldn’t help but shiver as the boy’s devilish smirk drifted back into his mind. He wanted to dispel any misunderstandings between their new boss and them as soon as possible. He wasn’t willing to wake up dead because of a small grievance.

  “Perhaps you can try again in a few hours?” he asked.

  Maria nodded. She agreed with her brother’s plan.

  Only then did she and Alexander turn to look at their new visitor. He was already done devouring the food, a rare look of extreme satisfaction on his face.

  “Sister, you have to treat me to a meal like this again sometime soon,” said the innocent child, rubbing his stomach before disappearing. He clearly had no intentions of paying for the meal.

  Maria sighed. It seemed like there would be no choice but to buy some more food with what little money they still had left.

  “Is there no chance you can chip in?” she asked her older brother.

  Alexander sighed, he still hadn’t fulfilled this week’s quota. As much as he wanted to chip in for this, he didn’t have any money to do so.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll pay you back in the future,” he said, uncertain of his own ability to do so. He had no way to know whether the quotas would even remain the same under their new leader.

  The duo stood and left the room. They now had to buy and prepare another meal before the sun rose to its fullest. A long day was ahead of them.

  Chapter 12

  Poison is the best medicine.

  Inside Zaros’s new room, Amro was ready to advance to the next stage of their project. With Zaros’s agreement, Amro took over the boy’s body. It was necessary for him to be in charge if they were to process the ingredients correctly.

  The transition felt strange for Zaros, much like entering a lucid dream. Unlike previous times, he was conscious during the switch. It felt like he was a prisoner within his own body. He could feel, see, and sense everything Amro could, but he had no control over his actions.

  “This feels so strange,” muttered the boy, now a consciousness floating in an infinite expanse of darkness.

  “Tell me about it,” complained his partner. Amro was now rotating his shoulders in an attempt to get used to the boy’s limited range of motion. Despite taking control of the boy’s body many times before, Amro couldn’t help but feel constrained by a mortal’s limitations. It was a strange sensation to say the least.

  When he was done acclimatizing, the fallen death god went over the ingredients. The first step in the road to power consisted of training the body to a point where it would crave additional sources of energy. Mana and aura usually fulfilled this role.

  However, the average human would never temper their body enough to achieve this transition. Only those who experienced unimaginable danger would be able to stimulate their potential to that point.

  Artificially inducing this experience was an even harder task. Plans like Amro’s required knowledge in the art of alchemy, as well as reagents the average commoner would never be able to afford.

  The foul-smelling ingredients were slowly processed by Amro. Some herbs were crushed into paste whilst others were ground into dust. Whilst these plants carried slight imperfections, Amro ensured his own work held none. Every action of his was refined and full of confidence. He held no tolerance towards mistakes.

  The concoction slowly took shape. With it, Amro planned to induce the boy into a life-endangering state. One so lethal yet so carefully controlled that it would leave Zaros’s body no choice but to rely on mana or aura for survival. Thus, his body’s potential would be forcefully awakened.

  Of course, none of this information was disclosed to Zaros. Who in their right mind would endure so much pain willingly? Not even Amro could save the boy from this experience. Taking control of Zaros’s body while he was advancing could cause the boy’s body and soul to fall out of synchrony. It couldn’t be helped. Sacrifices were to be made in order to reach their goals.

  In that way, Amro continued processing the herbs. He paid no mind to the passage of time, only to the mix before him. The resulting substance carried a tinge of green and mottles of brown. The stench it gave off reminded Amro of the fragrance that accompanied death and decay.

  “Boy, cover your body with this,” he ordered. “Under no conditions are you to wash it off mid-way. You are to remain covered in this thing until I instruct you otherwise. Understood?”

  His voice was strict, yet caring. The risk of Amro’s method was that it didn’t allow half measures. If Zaros removed the paste before it achieved its purpose, then he would be welcoming death.

  “Very well,” said Zaros, voicing his understanding.

  For the first time in their relationship, he was able to experience how it was for Amro. As a passive observer, he had been bored out of his mind during the past few minutes. He could finally comprehend why the self-proclaimed master of death made conversation with him about every small thing under the sun. Amro must have been both bored and lonely.

  “So, I just have to apply the paste evenly across my body?” he asked, confirming the instructions one last time.

  “Indeed, make sure to cover your body with as much of it as possible. Don’t let a single drop go to waste,” Amro answered.

  With those instructions out of the way, Amro and Zaros once again swapped control. The boy felt a temporarily dizziness as his senses flooded him with information about the environment. His pupils dilated and his muscles contracted. Enduring the dissonance generated by exchanging one’s soul and body was not as easy as Amro made it seem.

  After regaining his sense of balance, Zaros stood up and locked his door, making sure no one would stumble upon him. He took off his clothes and started applying the paste all over it. A sensation that felt both burning hot and icy cold battled to claim rights to the skin beneath the paste. The feeling grew increasingly intense over time, slowly becoming painful.

  “Remember, not to wash it off.”

  Amro’s words echoed in Zaros’s mind. He couldn’t quit unless instructed otherwise. He ignored the strange sensation, lathering the paste on heavily all over his body. He was about to place the bowl down when Amro’s voice put a stop to his actions.

  “The eyes,” he said, a hidden trace of mockery in his voice.

  “Do I really have to cover my eyes?” asked Zaros, clearly hesitant to follow through.

  “Of course, it would be a waste not to.”

  Feeling nothing but changes in his body’s temperature, Zaros followed Amro’s instructions one more time. One part skeptical and one part reluctant, he applied the paste into his eyes as well.

  “Now, drink the remainder,” said Amro, saving the best for last.

  With no intent to argue, Zaros drank the remaining bits of the foul-smelling substance and placed down the bowl. He felt the urge to gag but held himself back. No amount of water would be able to wash the taste he had just experienced.

  Amro sighed at the innocence of the child before him. He completely lacked the cynicism to think twice about following a command blindly. As a reward, he decided to offer some words for the boy to anchor himself to in the moments that would soon arrive.

  “Remember, we’re doing this for our revenge, because you need to grow stronger. Endure the pain that is to come and focus on my voice as you do so.”

  “Of course, I know that,” said Zaros, interrupting him. Amro’s nagging seemed to grow stronger with every day.
He was about to tell the god to be a bit more trusting when a searing pain struck his chest.

  Following the lead of the first reaction, the heat of his body continued rising exponentially. The feeling slowly grew overwhelming. A pain akin to glowing red needles piercing his body caused Zaros to fall to his hands and knees.

  Zaros grunted in pain, unwilling to succumb to his own weakness. He was so focused on remaining conscious that the notion of removing the paste from his body didn’t even cross his mind. As he endured the pain, Zaros felt like cursing Amro. Alas, he found that he was no longer able to speak, he didn’t have enough air left in his lungs to do so.

  Pain turned into despair. Despair turned into anger. Why did Amro omit telling him about this? Did he consider him that much of a coward? His anger slowly proved to be as good as a bath in cold water. Every curse he sent Amro’s way alleviated him from the pain in the same way a drop of rain healed the desert.

  Amro felt slightly wronged by Zaros’s coping mechanism. Every curse the boy sent his way turned into a new idea to be incorporated into their training schedule. Perhaps reliving this experience inside his soul domain would help his host increase his tolerance to pain.

  Sadistic as he was, however, Amro’s plans would have to wait. Zaros’s body was finally experiencing the desired changes.

  The walls that separated humans from the world’s energy started to collapse. Every part of Zaros’s flesh craved nourishing, something strong enough to grant them salvation from the poison. Even at the cellular level, his body knew it needed something to pass this tribulation. It was exactly the catalyst Amro was waiting for.

  I guess I can continue planning tonight’s training session after this.

  Resigning himself to the task at hand, Amro influenced the mana in the surroundings to approach Zaros. Using his soul as a medium, he wove string after string of mana, guiding them to coil around Zaros’s pores like snakes charmed by music. Eventually, they circled every inch of the boy’s body without leaving any spot behind.