Rebirth of the Undead King: Book 1 Read online

  Slowly, Zaros closed their eyes, desperate to hide away from their terrorized gazes. However, his hands halted once they reached the face of the butcher. He had spoken to her just a few hours ago, teasing her as he always did. Now, here she laid, her body now lifeless in front of him. He couldn’t help but feel a mix of anger, sadness and fear.

  The feelings were so overwhelming he nearly failed to hear the small group moving towards his position. Instinctively, he took cover, hiding beneath a broken cart.

  He could see them. Their gear resembled that of the group he had seen earlier, causing a horrible epiphany to slam into his mind. Was this his fault? That group he had seen… they were not merchants, nor were they hunters. They were murderers.

  He needed to hide. Lest he ended up as another victim.

  Ignoring Zaros’s presence, most of the mercenaries drank and laughed, joking around as they celebrated the success of another mission. Their attention wasn’t on their surroundings but on their drinks. The alcohol stored by the villagers had become a secondary reward to their slaughter.

  Zaros’s chest tightened after he saw them walk in his direction. One of them in particular caused chills to climb down his spine. Zaros recognized him. It was the man who had asked him for directions.

  Unlike the rest of his party, he didn’t seem to be enjoying the alcohol. Instead, he looked vaguely dismayed, seemingly ignoring the words of encouragement his party sent his way.

  "Hey Zac, don't be so upset. Look at all the booze we pillaged. Come on, you should enjoy some with us," insisted one of the party members.

  Zac couldn’t help but shake his head in refusal. His mind still lingered on the boy he had let go earlier that day. The fact that he hadn’t been taken care of meant punishment would come his way. He had been too confident in the boy’s return. Perhaps he heard the screams and escaped, he thought.

  Even if the kid was to die later on his own, Zac knew he was doomed. As long as he couldn't provide proof of the boy’s death, punishment would still fall on his shoulders for disregarding his duty. After all, his captain did warn him about being careless.

  “I need to stay sober until we find that kid,” Zac said, pushing the bottles his friends offered out of his way. “You know I will be skinned alive if he doesn't show up.”

  Zaros knew that they were talking about him. They knew he was still alive. Aware of their intentions, Zaros hunkered back into his hiding spot. If he wanted to live, he needed to find a way to slip away unnoticed.

  Much to Zaros’s luck, the mercenaries failed to notice his presence. After throwing a pair of bodies into the pile of corpses, they seemed ready to leave. Alas, one of the bodies twitched, showing signs of still being alive.

  “You dare?”

  Infuriated by his victim’s resilience, Zac took a dagger tied to his waist. In an attempt to vent his emotions, he stabbed the body over and over again, leaving no doubt about his death. It took him nearly a minute of unhindered violence to feel at ease after which he naturally left. He still needed to find the one who got away.

  Seeing his pursuers leave, Zaros took the chance to inspect the faces of the two additional bodies. They were two people he was also fond of: Alice and her father. Regret, pain, and fear — a myriad of emotions flooded Zaros as he felt himself being stripped away from his innocence.

  How long, he wondered. How long do I have before I share a spot next to them?

  His instincts screamed at him to run away, to hide, to ensure his survival. But he couldn’t. He needed to do one thing before that.

  Zaros waited until the patrol moved completely out of his sight before moving towards the pile of bodies once again.

  Alice's corpse laid still, her once delicate face tarnished by bruises and cuts. The look of grief on her lifeless eyes drew an unsteady breath from Zaros’s lungs. Even her dress had been torn in several places, evidencing a cruel reality Zaros was still too naïve to understand.

  Resolve filled Zaros’s eyes. He had to survive. It was his job to take revenge for what had happened here.

  Perhaps he would be able to find help in another village. Once he got in touch with them, he would be able to send an envoy to the nobles living in the north. They would surely look into this event.

  Having reached a resolution, Zaros scrambled away from the bodies, sprinting toward the edge of town. He needed to get away, quickly. His utmost priority was to survive. But alas, his haste was the cause of his downfall.

  From a distance, one of the many outlaws spotted a rushing figure. He turned his gaze upon the small boy running away from the village.

  "Zac! Isn't that the kid you were searching for?" asked a mercenary as he tugged on the scout’s jacket.

  Zac stood there, dumbfounded for a second. It seems the heavens have decided to smile upon me, he thought. It didn’t take long before he darted away, chasing after the boy. The rest of the group exchanged a brief look. Confusion and excitement raced through them as the thrill of the chase pumped adrenaline through their veins. Without another word, they rushed after Zac and the boy.

  A quick glance over Zaros’s shoulders revealed his pursuers. It would be hard to outrun them, so he had to come up with another way to lose them. Perhaps his knowledge of the surrounding area would help him far more than his lacking speed could.

  Betting on his familiarity with the forest, Zaros moved away from the main trails. His goal was to move deeper into the woods, into those areas so dense with trees that even wild beasts could get lost. His best chance for survival laid there. After all, he knew most of the area like the back of his hand.

  He kept running, his focus completely on the act of escaping. Even his body did its best instinctively, straining every fiber of his muscles to run at his maximum speed. Yet despite his efforts, the distance between him and his pursuers shortened with every step. His options began to dwindle, leaving him with only one choice: running into those places he had always avoided.

  Perhaps the beasts that inhabited those areas would be deterrent enough to his pursuers, disregarding how much of a risk they would pose to himself.

  As he approached the deeper parts of the forest, silence overtook his surroundings. Some might believe it to be a sign of peace, but an experienced hunter would know otherwise. Silence in the woods meant only one thing — danger.

  Ignorant of Zaros’s plan, the mercenaries continued their chase. None of them paid attention to how far away from the village they were going. While some of them were ignorant about this area, the others just didn’t care about the risks that laid inside. If a kid could go into the forest despite the risks, why would they need to be afraid of danger?

  Moments later, the mercenaries got into a shooting distance. Seeing Zaros was within their range, one of them loaded an arrow on his bow and took aim at the boy.

  Zac grinned and glanced over his shoulder. "Whoever catches him will get a night of drinks on me!"

  The archer immediately let go of his arrow. He could already taste the wonders of falling drunk on the scout’s pocket. His arrow whistled through the wind as it approached his target, ready to pierce Zaros through his back.

  However, be it by fate or by chance, Zaros’s exhaustion made his steps falter, causing the arrow to miss its intended target. All it had been able to do was leave a scrape to the side of his leg, nearly causing him to fall.

  The archer was infuriated. Even though his arrow was coated in poison, if someone else took the finishing blow, his reward would be forfeit under a barrage of excuses from both the scout and his competitors. That being said, this excited the other mercenaries further as they still had a chance to reap the reward. They sped up, intent on catching the boy.

  Zaros’s leg rapidly grew numb. Unfortunately, he had no time to stop and check his wound. His opponents were coming closer, each of their footsteps becoming louder than the one before it.

  Fortunately for Zaros, the sound of their rush was his salvation. Not far from them, a beast had taken notice of thei
r intrusion into his territory. His sense of hearing had revealed the presence of the humans near him.

  A smirk surfaced on the beast’s visage. Who was he, but the proud ruler of this side of the forest? How dared mere humans step into his territory?

  The beast stood up from his resting position, stretching his paws as he readied to meet the invaders. With a small nibble, the creature took a moment to bite an itch out of his silver fur before he began chasing after the trespassers at a great speed.

  Hearing a howl in the distance, the mercenaries soon took notice of the beast. They directed their contempt towards the ignorant creature. How dare this simple forest creature challenge them? Even if their party had neither ranked knights nor magicians, they still had the strength to deal with a beast like this.

  The archer’s gaze flitted away from the kid to his group before he offered a suggestion. "Let's deal with this creature first. The tip of my arrow was covered in poison, the kid won't make it far."

  The others grumbled at the suggestion, knowing it gave the archer a better chance at claiming the kill. A night of drinks paid by the scout was a hard offer to part from. Alas, the threat before them left them with no other choice.

  Zac shared their frustrations. Every second they wasted here allowed the boy to gain more ground. The situation, however, demanded their full attention. Killing the boy would mean nothing if one of them died along the way.

  Meanwhile, Zaros ran as fast as he could. Each step of his became heavier than the last as he felt his strength being sapped away. He felt too tired, his breathing was becoming ragged and his gaze was growing blurry.

  Is this it? Will I die here? Will I be unable to find justice?

  A flurry of questions assaulted Zaros’s mind as his legs slowed, heavy from exhaustion. Eventually, he could no longer move. Not even his resolve could replenish the lack of energy. He could do nothing but lay beside a bone-white rock, resigned to unwillingly face his death.

  Darkness took over Zaros’s sight, his consciousness beginning to fade away. If only I had a chance to change things, he thought. Alas, living beings were given only one opportunity. All were equal upon death.

  That is if fate didn’t have a need for them.

  “Mortal, what is it that you regret the most?” An arrogant and mechanical voice stopped Zaros from joining the ranks of the fallen, his last bits of consciousness held tight by the unspoken authority in the statement.

  Being powerless, Zaros thought. If only he had power, he would have been able to stop the men chasing him. Had he held some strength, he would have been able to live a better life before all of this. If he had the opportunities at his disposal, he would be able to go look for his father, ensure protection for his friends and free himself from the shackles of his lacking background.

  “What a noble, yet naive goal,” criticized the voice. “Power without guidance brings corruption, so I’ll offer you both. In exchange, you must offer yourself, your future, and your everything to my cause. The price you will pay will not be fair, but I won’t force it upon you. Are you willing to take this deal?”

  Zaros didn’t need to think about it, the answer came from the deepest depths in his soul.

  Yes, I’ll accept your deal. Take whatever you want from me, but grant me my wish.

  Zaros’s inner-most desires had spoken for him. Every remaining ounce of logic and reasoning had been destroyed by his exhaustion. Only the purest form of his desires remained.

  As he spoke those words within his mind, Zaros’s consciousness vanished into the dark. The breath of life left his body in an attempt to separate him from the world.

  However, time suddenly came to a stop.

  The consciousness who had spoken to him sighed. “Very well, I’ll agree to this deal. I hope you don’t regret this choice in the future. I’ll help you accomplish your goal, and in exchange, you will have to help me achieve mine. I hope you don’t come to regret this moment.”

  The voice faded away. From that moment onwards, there was no longer Zaros, the village boy, nor Amro, the God of Death. Now, their lives were bound to each other.

  Horrible premonitions plagued seers and sages throughout the world at that moment. Many collapsed trying to make sense of the horrible scenes in their visions. Alas, everything they saw was beyond their understanding. It was too late to stop it from happening.

  Before time resumed itself, Zaros’s wounds crept close. Unconsciousness held him tight as a new aura raced throughout his body. Now, death’s doors closed before the boy — the gatekeeper awaited the name of his new targets.

  Chapter 03

  A wolf’s last wish.

  In the distance, the mercenaries took defensive positions as they encircled the wolf-like creature. Most of them readied their blades as the party’s archer distanced himself from the encirclement. He pulled his bow taut, waiting for a chance to shoot the silver-coated beast.

  The wolf’s visage seemed to carry a sneer. Since when did puny humans find the courage to threaten him? As far as he was concerned, they should just lie down and offer themselves as tribute for having the mere audacity of treading onto his land. Of course, the hunters in the small settlements had never posed a threat to him. He had a reason to be arrogant.

  Thus, the beast found himself livid when he smelt the scent of bloodlust coming from Zac and his group. Seemingly accepting their challenge, the wolf positioned himself forward, preparing to pounce at his enemies.

  Tension filled the air, until finally, the whistling sound of the wind shattered the standoff.

  The archer behind the mercenaries’ party took the initiative to release his arrow towards the wolf, trusting his companions would take the opportunity to strike. Danger. The beast felt the change in the flow of the wind as he pounced towards Zac's direction and thus managed to avoid the arrow. However, Zac didn’t miss the chance and used his sword to block the wolf’s jaws.

  Seeing the wolf unable to use his powerful bite, the rest of the party charged forward. Yet unfortunately for them, they were underestimating the beast’s strength. Before they could land their strikes, Zac’s sword began to crack under the pressure of the creature’s teeth.

  Zac let go of his broken blade as he took a step backward. Then, he launched a kick in the wolf's direction. It didn’t take him long to realize that fighting the beast in close quarters without a weapon was suicidal. He needed to create some distance.

  The kick connected and sent the wolf back giving Zac a chance to move backwards. Taking this opportunity, the other mercenaries approached the wolf, using the chance to thrust their weapons in the beast’s general direction.

  Sensing their approach, the wolf twisted his body and evaded one of the mercenaries’ strikes. Unfortunately for him, he was grazed by the strike of a second mercenary. But it wasn’t over. As the creature fell to the ground, an arrow tinged with a green paste sunk into its paw. Far behind the party, the archer hadn't missed his chance to strike.

  A smile crossed Zac’s lips. His team had coordinated this fight perfectly. At this rate, they would be back on the boy’s trail without losing too much ground. After a couple of breaths, Zac took the backup dagger he carried on his thigh, ready to re-engage the beast.

  The wolf grew angry as he bit off the arrow from his paw, blood dripping slowly out of the wound. His snout frowned as a slight stench coming from his paw assaulted his nose. It made him realize that these sly humans were using despicable means against him.

  The archer smirked when he saw the beast’s human-like reaction. His last arrow had been imbued with the same poison he had struck the boy with only minutes prior to this. It wouldn't be long before the wolf fell down on his own, gaining him credit for another kill. The archer readied another arrow, preparing to shoot the beast when the next opportunity presented itself.

  Zac moved with more caution, giving a chance for the other mercenaries to engage the beast before he did. Engaging the beast with a short dagger was inherently more dangerous than
doing so with a long sword. Alas, his was already broken.

  Eventually, one of the mercenaries charged forward, striking the side where the wolf had been previously injured. His opportunistic choice proved to be the right one as the wolf failed to dodge the attack.

  The beast growled, infuriated at the cunning humans’ approach. Instead of moving sideways, the beast decided to pounce forwards. However, his attack lacked the ferociousness it did at the beginning, showing both the effect of the poison and the damage he had received so far.

  Seeing the sluggishness in the beast’s movements, a mercenary stepped forward. This time, he used his sword to block the beast’s paw, gaining time for his comrades to take action.

  “Go!”

  Zac grinned as he sprinted from his companion’s side, ready to stab the wolf's ribs while the beast’s attention lingered somewhere else. Despite sensing Zac’s approach, the beast’s pride bound him to keep attacking relentlessly.

  Even if he was to take fatal damage, the wolf had an instinctual desire to take at least one of his opponents down with him. How could he, a noble creature of this forest, be killed without taking one of someone with him?

  Alas, before the creature could deal a lethal strike to his opponents, another arrow pierced through his maw. Zac didn’t miss the opportunity. With haste and maliciousness, his dagger plunged deep into the beast’s ribs.

  Assaulted by the two successive strikes, the wolf had no choice but to endure a third. He was slightly stunned, opening him up to Zac’s incoming kick.

  Seeing the beast whimpering on the ground, the mercenaries started moving to surround it. One of them followed Zac’s example and switched his weapon with a secondary dagger. His blade now had several cracks spread from the tip to the hilt after blocking the wolf’s strike. A little more and he might have lost his hand to the beast.

  Strike after strike was delivered to the beast in succession, taking away the last of his strength. However, they didn’t deliver the finishing blow. The beast had dared to attack them so now it would have to endure the pain of being at death’s door.