Chapter 4 Rise, Rhen
Darius dropped the broken shield. It clattered loudly across the silent battlefield.
“No,” he rasped, stepping back from his own horrifying reflection. “This isn’t me. I refuse to become this thing.”
[FIRST SOUL REQUIRED.]
The System’s message pounded inside his skull again, cold and demanding. Darius pressed bony fingers against the sides of his skull-like head and squeezed hard, trying to push the voice away.
“Get out of my head,” he growled. His voice carried an unnatural rasp that made his own skin crawl. He turned away and stumbled through the sea of corpses, disgust twisting deep inside his hollow chest. Every step reminded him how wrong his body felt now. The cold emptiness where his heart used to beat made him want to vomit, but nothing came up.
He stopped beside Rhen’s body. His loyal lieutenant lay completely still, eyes fixed on the dark sky, dried blood covering his torn armor from the wounds he had taken defending him to the last breath.
Darius dropped to one knee beside him. “You stayed with me until the very end, fighting like a demon even when everything fell apart. I should have seen the betrayal coming. I failed you, Rhen. All of you who trusted me.”
[Soul available. Raise Thrall? Yes/No.]
The choice appeared clearly in his mind. Darius shook his head hard. “No. I won’t do it. I won’t turn my own friend into a monster like me. There has to be another way out of this nightmare.”
He stood and moved away a few steps, but the System refused to stay silent no matter how much he wished it would.
[Host vitality low. Multiple hostiles detected approaching from the east.]
Darius crouched quickly behind a pile of bodies and peered into the night. Torchlight bobbed in the distance. Voices drifted across the blood-soaked field, growing louder with every second.
“Spread out and be thorough. Lord Merrick wants clear confirmation that Voss is dead. No loose ends tonight.”
“Check every single corpse carefully. If anyone is still breathing, finish them quickly. We don’t want any surprises when we report back.”
Five kingdom scouts moved carefully through the bodies, kicking aside the fallen and driving knives into any who showed the slightest sign of life. Their torches cast long, flickering shadows over the dead.
Darius’s empty sockets narrowed. He felt weak and unsteady in this new body, power flickering uncertainly inside him. If they found him now, cornered and alone, it would all end here in the mud without him getting any answers about Elyra or the betrayal.
He glanced back at Rhen’s corpse, conflict tearing at him.
[Soul available. Raise Thrall? Yes/No.]
The message flashed again, far more urgent this time. Darius clenched his jaw tightly. “I can’t. Not like this. Not to you, my friend.”
The scouts drew closer. One of them laughed coldly. “Found another one still moving over here. Make it quick and clean.”
A short, wet scream cut through the night and ended abruptly.
Darius pressed himself lower against the bodies. He had no sword left. No men left to command. Only this cursed power whispering constantly in his mind and the dead lying all around him like silent witnesses to his fall.
[Host in danger. Thrall creation strongly recommended for survival.]
“Damn you,” Darius muttered under his breath. Disgust burned through him, but the fear of being discovered and finished off pushed even harder. He crawled back to Rhen’s side, staying as low to the ground as possible, the place where his heart used to beat still somehow aching with guilt.
The torchlight grew brighter and closer. “That big pile where they buried Voss. Check it right now. He should be under there somewhere.”
They were heading straight toward him.
Darius placed his cold, pale hand on Rhen’s still chest. The flesh felt completely lifeless under his palm. “I’m sorry, old friend. If anything of you remains inside... forgive me for what I’m about to do. I have no choice left.”
He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper. “Rise, Rhen.”
Dark power surged violently through his arm the instant the command left his lips. Cold, hungry energy poured out of him and flooded into the corpse. Rhen’s body twitched hard once, then again.
His lieutenant’s eyes snapped open, glowing with the same sickly green light that burned in Darius’s empty sockets.
Rhen sat upright slowly, joints creaking loudly. He looked around, head tilting slightly. Then the corners of his mouth lifted in a faint, familiar dry smile.
“Commander...” Rhen’s voice came out rough and raspy but carried that same battlefield humor. “You look like walking death. Took you long enough to wake me up.”
Darius stared at him, shock and relief crashing together inside his hollow chest. “Rhen? You can still speak like that? You remember me?”
Before Rhen could reply, heavy footsteps rushed closer. The scouts had clearly heard the movement and voices.
“Over here!” one of them shouted loudly. “Something just moved among the bodies! I heard talking!”
Torches swung sharply toward their position. Swords scraped free from scabbards as the scouts broke into a full run straight at them.
Darius rose to his feet, fresh power pulsing through his changed body now that his first thrall had awakened. Rhen stood up beside him, still wearing that faint eerie smile, green eyes glowing steadily in the darkness.
The scouts charged straight at them.
