Lucas spun around to face the sound of a voice, only to be greeted by the sight of a pile of ashes that was beginning to stir. The ashes twirled and danced, forming a humanoid shape before solidifying into a strikingly handsome man who could make any woman feel butterflies.
Despite his appearance, Lucas raised his vigilance as he knew not to trust others based on appearance, especially if they had the smell of rot emanating from them!
"Who the hell are you?" Lucas growled, his grip on his sword and his woman tightening. He couldn't deny that he felt a strange sense of familiarity towards the man, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. And it made him feel all the more vexed.
The man introduced himself as Marty and claimed that he was once well-known as the prince of Sumeria, which had been destroyed around two decades ago.
Lucas's mind raced as he realized that this was the same man who had caused chaos and destruction within the empire during his escape to the criminal capital of the world. Marty seemed to know Lucas's identity as a knight-errant and the secrets of the empire, causing Lucas to grow increasingly uneasy.
"How are you still alive?" Lucas demanded, his disbelief evident. He distinctly remembered a report from the Wiseman Organization that had claimed that Marty had been killed by Damien. But now, seeing him alive and well before him, Lucas knew that the report was false.
Marty's voice was as cold as snow as he explained, "I am the fourth king of the undead, a being of immense power who created Zarathas and many other undeads. Why would Death take me? And without Death's permission, how can I be easily killed?"
The weight of Marty's words hung heavy in the air, and Lucas could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It was a known fact that there were only Four Undead Kings. The fourth one was the most mysterious, as he had recently ascended to the status of the undead king. Lucas didn't expect to meet him here, of all places.
"If you're really the undead king," Lucas stood before Marty, his eyes narrowing as he posed the question that had been gnawing at him since their first encounter, "then why didn't you save Zarathas?"
Marty's expression remained blank, his eyes devoid of emotion.
"He was no longer useful. He had lost sight of our true purpose." he replied coolly, "He had become consumed with his own thirst for power and pleasure, reveling in the suffering of others, an act abhorred by Death himself. How could he continue on living?"
"What is your purpose?" Lucas asked, still struggling to understand Marty's twisted motives.
Marty's eyes glinted with a strange, otherworldly light as he replied, "Our purpose is to welcome Death back into the realm of the living. It is a noble cause, one that the foolish citizens of the empire can never understand."
Lucas frowned, "What do you want from me?"
Marty met his eyes and, with a voice that was barely above a whisper, spoke. "I see my younger self in you, Lucas. You have the potential to be a great weapon for our cause. Join us, and I will give you the power to bring your people back from the dead. Think about it. You could have them back by your side, fighting by your side once more."
Lucas felt a flicker of temptation stir within him, but he quickly extinguished it.
"I'm not interested. I won't use that accursed power to bring back my loved ones as the very monsters I had sworn to kill. I will never join you," he declared, his voice firm and resolute.
Marty's features contorted into a dark and twisted expression as he heard his refusal.
"Then you leave me no choice but to push you into the loving embrace of death," Marty revealed his true colors as he snarled like a beast, his rage palpable as he lunged at Lucas with a fierce attack that struck him square in the face.
The impact was so intense that it sent Lucas hurtling across the swamps, crashing through trees and leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.
Plop!
The force of the blow left Lucas disoriented and confused, his consciousness clouded as he plummeted into the murky waters with a resounding splash. The corpse of his beloved and his trusty sword left his hold and clattered down beside him, doubling the intensity of the chaos and despair he felt.
Before he could even attempt to clear his blurry vision, Marty reached down and grabbed Lucas by the hair, pulling him up from the shallow, black water.
"You are no match for me. That's why you should have agreed when I gave you a chance. Now even if you beg me to spare you, I won't. It's time to meet your end," he sneered, raising his hand to strike the final blow.
But just as his attack was about to connect, a figure appeared out of nowhere, hurtling towards Marty with incredible force.
Bam!
With a swift kick, the newcomer sent Marty flying through the air, forcing him to release his hold on Lucas.
As Marty crashed into a small hill far away with a bone-crunching thud, Lucas blinked his eyes, struggling to focus on the stranger who had just saved his life.
The figure before him was shockingly familiar – it was Augustus, his younger brother! Lucas could hardly believe his eyes, but the rush of relief he felt at the sight of his sibling was overwhelming. He never felt he would feel that way while looking at his manwhore of a younger brother.
"Augustus?! H-How is it you?" Lucas gasped, still reeling from the intense physical trauma he had just experienced.
But before he could say more, Augustus's urgent voice cut through the chaos.
"Now's not the time to talk about it, Lucas. You need to rest."
Lucas opened his mouth to protest, but the sudden appearance of a massive, gaping mouth interrupted him. It was Black, Augustine's summoned creature.
Without hesitation, Black swallowed Lucas, his sword, and the remains of his fallen comrade in a single gulp.
"Take him back to the county and return to me as soon as possible," Augustuscommanded, and, in an instant, they vanished from the battlefield, leaving Augustus to face the monster alone.
