Rebirth of the Undead King: Book 1 Read online

  "You know, ever since I arrived to this town, one thing has been bothering me constantly," said Zaros, walking towards the two guards. "How come there are so many people in need of food, when we have people as useless as your boss, eating to the point his clothes don’t fit him?"

  “How dare you talk about Baron Lapas that way?” exclaimed Mata, ignoring the cautious look on his partner’s eyes. “The citizens of the kingdom live to serve the nobles and the royal family! The resources of the kingdom are theirs to do as they see fit.”

  Seeing Mata’s anger flourish, Zaros took the chance to shorten the distance between the two of them. Before his opponent realized it, he reached out his hand, clasping Mata where the plated armor didn’t cover his chest.

  Seth's eyes widened in surprise. He could swear the child was still a couple of feet away from his partner just a moment ago.

  “Mata, be care—”

  “Too late.”

  Following Zaros’s words, Mata fell to his knees. A spear blood shot towards the sky as the injured guard gasped for breath. Before he knew it, his lung had been crushed under Zaros’s grip, making it hard for him to breathe.

  Watching them from a distance, Slyfox’s mouth fell in shock. Was this the same kid that he had fought? His fighting style felt different from the night he fought with him. Could his own lie be true? Could the kid really be a representative to an external power like the rebels, hiding his true-self in plain sight?

  Beads of sweat dripped from Slyfox’s forehead. Deep down, he had blamed his defeat that night on being slightly drunk and careless. But now, he couldn’t help but reconsider his own views. Seeing the boy's skills as a spectator had left him with a bitter taste: the realization of his own incompetence.

  With his eyes now at the same level as the kneeling Mata, Zaros continued speaking, "And then I realized. The nobles treat the rest of us like we are nothing but livestock. Our lives are nothing to them aside from a means to fulfill their desires.

  Royalty, nobility, they are all the same. They're the ones to blame for this kingdom’s decay. How can we overcome our own struggles when they intend to force them on us?"

  A cry of support erupted from the crowd behind the boy. Not all of them were able to see how he'd brought down the guard, but most could still hear his words. The indignation in their hearts flourished with each of Zaros's arguments. Not even those from the northern and southern side of town could keep themselves from feeling the same way.

  Who amongst them hadn't been looked down just because of their status as commoners? Who amongst them lacked the desire to challenge the status quo? They were all the same. Humans who cherished their lives, people with family and friends, feelings and desires. Not one of them could escape their desire for freedom.

  As such, they couldn't deny that they hated the nobles’ attitudes as much as anyone else.

  “It's not that I hate you, or your lifestyle,” said Zaros. “I understand that some are destined to be blessed by the heavens while others like myself are not. That I can accept.”

  “However, allowing you to treat us like livestock? Just what do you think human lives are?” Zaros's voice was filled with displeasure. The feelings he had buried when he departed his town were surfacing little by little.

  Seeing Zaros immersed in his speech, Seth started moving stealthily around him. He was aiming for Zaros's unguarded back while the boy was distracted finishing off his partner. It was a cruel decision, yes, but better than facing the little monster head-on. He had realized the boy was considerably more skillful than he initially estimated.

  The spectators were about to scream at Zaros to watch his back. Some hoodlums even started running forward, intent on tackling the guard down and giving him a beating. However, Seth wasn’t destined to succeed. Amro was ready to ruin his plan.

  “Lean to your left,” he said, instructing Zaros in a practiced manner.

  Instinctively following his partner’s order, Zaros took a step to his left. He was surprised to see the blade that had been aiming for his back, his emotions had blinded him to his surroundings. With no other way to regain his balance, Zaros took Seth’s arm, pushing it forwards to regain his body’s equilibrium. As a result, Seth’s sword pierced through Mata's throat instead of Zaros’s back.

  Silence and surprise melded into shock. Seth fell his knees tremble and his hands grow weak. It was over, he had taken his partner’s life. Even if he managed to kill the kid, his punishment would be no lesser than that of a criminal.

  How is this possible? Does he have eyes on his back? No, he is a Demon! He must be!

  Seth’s mind was flooded with a myriad thoughts as he tried to rationalize the events that had just happened. Confusion had taken the reins of his rationality.

  Unlike him, however, most of the slum-dwellers were pleasantly surprised and filled with excitement. This further caused the nobles watching from the distance to grow anxious. It seemed like the rumors might be true — a child had really been sent to infiltrate their town and start a rebellion.

  Otherwise, why would someone with so much talent at a such young age lead a group of misfits like the residents of the slums? Why would he choose to make an enemy of the nobles who would gladly recruit him into their ranks because of his talent? In their eyes, he was trying to plant the seeds of discord within them in order to start a new revolution.

  Slyfox’s lies had borne fruit.

  Bystanders aside, Zaros only had one goal in mind. He would retrieve Alexander's sister at all costs, even if he had to stain his hands in blood. The hatred towards the kingdom’s royalty and nobility meshed together with the seed of doubt Amro planted in his heart. What if the nobles from this town were involved with his village’s massacre?

  Unaware to his partner’s subtle manipulation, Zaros had already accepted the concept of taking another man’s life. He would not allow himself to experience the grief of losing someone again. He wouldn’t abandon a follower of his.

  Sigh.

  Seeing Seth on the ground mumbling to himself, Zaros had a look of pity. Whatever his relationship was with the other guard, taking his life seemed to have taken a toll on his psyche. Alas, pity wasn’t the same as forgiveness.

  Without any hesitation, Zaros approached Seth, eager to repeat the same wound he had given the previous guard. With his mana enhanced by mana, Zaros clasped his opponent’s side, using the pressure of his grip to crush his lung.

  Feeling the crushing sensation, Seth was brought back to his senses. Scared, he tried to break away from Zaros's grasp. Unfortunately for him, however, his blade was no longer on his hands, lying now in the throat of his old partner.

  After a few seconds of struggles, he was able to break Zaros’s hold on him. The cost of doing so, however, involved leaving some bits of his flesh behind. His shirt was now torn, revealing five finger-sized holes where Zaros's hand used to be. Blood oozed from the injury, creating trouble he had never expected at the beginning of this fight.

  Seth gasped for breath, his eyes once again focused on Zaros. That slight moment of distraction had cost him a heavy price. His comrade had fallen at his own hands, and now, he had been gravely injured. He knew that even if he were to survive this fight, he would still be punished harshly by his master. There was no use for a subordinate who couldn't complete their orders.

  Standing in front of the small army, the fat Baron from the house of Lapas stood with a complicated expression on his face. On one hand, two of his best subordinates had been injured to the point he would have to dispose of them even if they survived. On the other, the young boy before him was a precious treasure in his line of business.

  Just what kind of price could a boy with such talents fetch in the underground markets? Even if he disregarded Zaros’s talent, he was sure he could find a buyer just based on the boy’s appearance alone. Plenty of his customers had tastes of questionable morality. Not like he was going to judge them for it.

  That being said, Zaros wasn’t ready to g
ive up this fight. Using the opportunity created by his opponent stepping back, Zaros took a dagger from Mata’s body.

  "But then again, men grow spineless with time. Even if your boss is the one giving the orders, it's not like you're refusing to execute them. The same applies to the others. I'm well aware people work from the insides of the slums to supply your so-called cattle," said Zaros. Each of his words were marked with a small step forward in Seth's direction.

  In the distance, Slyfox grew silent.

  Am I the one in the wrong? he thought. Was he at fault for compromising with the nobles instead of rebelling? It was true that he had chosen the path with least resistance. However, was that really the best for both him and his subordinates, like he had once thought it was?

  Just like Slyfox, several people amongst the crowd stared at the ground in shame. They knew they had all betrayed one another at some point to ensure their own survival. Zaros’s words, however, revealed the cowardice behind their actions.

  Who amongst them didn't have a friend who 'went missing'? Could they justify their choices based on their desire for survival?

  Even Amro smiled in approval. The boy had a great talent for influencing the human heart. It was a trait that would become of use as they advanced in their path of revenge. It made him consider something in particular. Was it Zaros’s luck to meet him that day, or was it his to have met Zaros?

  He knew very well that fate had an interesting way to achieve its goals; so to this question of his, only time would tell.

  Far from the audience, Seth was finding it hard to remain focused. He was constantly losing blood from his wound. His eyesight had grown fuzzy and his senses had lost its sharpness. He could hear what seemed like a grim voice buzzing in his ears, mocking him, telling him to accept his destiny already. Strength left his body as an unexplainable weight fell onto his knees. He had to use his sword to support himself in order to remain standing.

  That moment was all Zaros needed. Using the opportunity brought upon by Seth's waning strength, he sealed the fate of the guard once and for all. Without care for human life, his dagger slashed across Seth’s neck, pushing him to meet his partner on the other side.

  Seeing the results of his choices, Zaros could only shake his head. Despite being his first time taking a human life, he felt nothing but apathy. Something inside Zaros made him accept death as part of nature, not something out of the ordinary.

  Realizing he was staring at the cold, dead body of Seth, Zaros raised his head. He turned to look at the fat noble and the battalion of guards behind him. They were visibly scared, their morale now as low as their morals.

  Ready to make his point, the boy spoke in a voice incompatible with his height, "From this day onwards, nobles, royalty, and everybody else is the same in this town! You won't bind anyone to a fate of slavery or death anymore."

  Amro smiled inside his space. He had decided not to intervene unless necessary during this conflict. Only through blood and battle would Zaros temper his character and soul enough to face what the future had reserved for them. Revenge and revolution held one thing in common: death was usually the means to make sure they happened.

  Zaros’s words were the drop that spilled the glass. Blinded by their emotions and excitement, the unruly mob ran towards the guards ready to vent their grudges with violence.

  Seeing the crowd’s behavior, the baron's face distorted in anger. Eventually, however, he was forced to order his guards to move in front of him to ensure his safety.

  “Protect me! Stop those filthy commoners from entering my state!”

  However, he had overlooked something. Zaros's actions had already crushed his guards’ morale. The death of Seth and Mata had made them hesitate. Unfortunately for them, however, hesitation in battle was the same as taking half a step forward into defeat.

  Zaros merged with the crowd of people charging forward. His small stature made him impossible to find amongst the chaotic battlefield. As he moved through the crowd, he took the lives of a few guards with ease. It was too late to stop. Every one of his moves was now aimed towards his opponents' weak points. An exposed neck, an extended arm, any opportunity available was taken by him to incapacitate his opponents.

  Severed necks and pierced hearts were what paved a path to Zaros’s true target: the one man whose attitude represented everything he hated.

  You’re next, he promised silently.

  Seeing his personal guards falling one after another, Baron Lapas grew scared. He kept moving backwards as he tried to find a safe place far from the skirmish. As a noble, his place in battles was at the back commanding his troops, not at the front taunting his opponents. It was his own arrogance that had led to his current situation.

  Slyfox stood in shock from afar. Was this the start of a civil war? Since when did the people from the slums hold enough courage to do something like this?

  However, he knew the answer to his last question. Even he had been momentarily blinded by Zaros’s words. Had it not been for the pain still coming from his leg, he might have charged into battle as well. Just what was it that made the boy so compelling? Was it his ideals, or was it perhaps his choice of words? He decided to find out after this was over.

  That being said, Slyfox was afraid of the consequences this battle would bring in the future. Could those from the slums actually be victorious? His common sense dictated that it was impossible, but a strange feeling told him that’s how it was going to be. Only after watching until the end would he find out for sure.

  Chapter 18

  Vindication.

  Baron Lapas ran as fast as his legs allowed him to. If only his wealth could be exchanged for wings, he would be willing to trade it all in this one moment. The scene behind him was terrifying. How could his guards keep falling down lifeless one after the other? His guards' equipment and training should have allowed them to raze the hoodlums down with ease. Why were they being killed like bugs instead then?

  The answer was simple: Zaros. After giving his order to charge, Zaros's silhouette had disappeared inside the crowd, leaving his last menacing stare deeply ingrained in the Baron's memory.

  The baron recognized that stare. It was the same one slaves gave him before they lunged forward at him, disregarding the punishment they would receive. The difference was that his guards were not able to stop this boy. The speed at which his soldiers kept falling seemed to follow the rhythm of his pulse, increasing little by little.

  Had the baron reached rank two or even rank one, he might have been able to see Zaros sprinting from side to side, reaping the lives of his subordinates only to get to him. Unfortunately for him, his life of hedonism would never awaken such potential. Over twenty members from his 'elite' guard had already fallen to Zaros’s dull dagger. At some point, Zaros had even opted to change it for a short blade dropped by one of the guards, increasing the efficiency of his deadly harvest.

  Body after body paved Zaros’s path. He was being baptized in blood; no longer a victim, but a victimizer.

  Each of his moves was allowing his feelings to flood outwards. The swings of his blade representing the words in his heart. Even then, a cold sense of rationality kept him in focus. The thrill of battle calmed his nerves in a way he had never experienced before.

  Amro kept himself busy as well. Every life Zaros’s dagger reaped was quickly refined into the purest essence the fallen god could use. Slowly infusing it into his host’s body without him realizing was a task easier said than done. For now, he’d keep this a secret, lest it broke Zaros's attention away from the battlefield.

  Eventually, Zaros reached the noble, sealing his only possible path to escape. On one side was the angry mob ready to devour him while on the other was Zaros, a smirk of deviousness displayed on his face. His hair, now bathed in crimson red, had given him the appearance of a demon. One ready to collect on a debt.

  “Was it worth it?” he asked, taunting the Baron into making a move. “Was your greed worth paying with your life?�
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  At first, Baron Lapas didn’t answer. Instead, his face twisted in repugnance while his hands clenched into fists. Even at death’s door he was unwilling to accept judgment from a commoner.

  “How dare you?” he said. “A lowlife like you will never understand the value of a noble’s life, nor the power of his wealth. My life is worth a hundred times more than yours. Even if you kill me now, someone else will come to avenge me.”

  "The value of a man's death depends on the value of his life," replied Zaros. "Since your life has no meaning, neither does your death."

  Baron Lapas felt like cursing the boy. Once he tried to speak, however, he discovered only blood flowed out of his mouth. His life had been taken without him even realizing it. Eyes full of despair, he looked at Zaros, only now realizing that the boy held a dagger stained by his blood.

  Damn it, he thought. Seth, Mata, I’ll see you in hell.

  Even in death, Baron Lapas refused to accept the consequences of his own actions. He placed all the blame on both of his subordinates, who had decided to instigate this conflict by themselves. The fact that they did so only to please him wasn’t enough for him to care.

  Zaros felt a huge weight leave his shoulders. A strange, refreshing feeling washed away all the burdens and exhaustion he had accumulated during the battle. For some reason, murder didn’t feel alien to him. Instead, it felt strangely melancholic, like it was forever meant to be part of his life.

  No, Zaros thought to himself. I won’t let myself become like that.

  He wasn't sure how he should feel about his ability to take away lives with such ease. Even if he ignored Baron Lapas’s death, he had taken the lives of many guards as well. If he added the lives of those he had indirectly killed through his subordinates, his kill-count made for a frightening amount. What did this say about him?

  It says that you make a perfect host, thought Amro, still focused on refining the surrounding souls. The actions of Zaros were something only he could explain. Inhabiting his body, he could sense the influence his soul had over the boy’s.