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AMALUS
Chapter 2: So this is Amalus pt. 1

Chapter 2: So this is Amalus pt. 1

Seventh Sunday of the Titan, 1258 A.E.

*ding*

Time had flown by in a blur while Lazarus trained his body. First crawling and then walking. It was much more exhausting than he could even imagine. Just a couple of hours of strenuous (for a toddler that is) workout had left him incredibly tired and exhausted.

By his own schedule, he was very slow to get used to his new body, and to grow up physically. This only added fuel to his inner rage. While he learned to keep it in check and slightly forgive his killer, his inner rage and fury was far from gone.

Well, or so he thought. In reality, all he had managed to do was to redirect his anger. It was directed at anyone looking down on him. Take for instance his same-aged peers, the other slave children. Each one of them were blessed with a strong body and thus learned to walk before crawling, even before Lazarus could crawl.

All the slaves in the vicinity for that matter all looked down on him. He was not looking like the gladiator champion of the next-generation. He looked like one of the frail and sickly, who would be sold to beastmen as food.

One day all of the ones looking down on me will bow down to me. Be it knowingly or unknowingly!

*ding*

This marked the start of his ambition. He wanted to be on top of the world, so that no one could look down on him. Oh, he hated them; He hated all those geniuses with talents like no other. His rage, his fury and let us not forget his jealousy. These three elements were at the core of his feelings.

Which leads us to this date. The seventh Sunday of the Titan, 1258 A.E. Not that Lazarus would have any idea. By his schedule, he should be about 1 year old.

I have been counting the days, and I should be about 1 year old by now. However, I have by no means experienced anything a kin to a celebration. Perhaps celebrations are not in order in this world…

Whenever he was not busy lifting his arms and walking for a few minutes he would be thinking. Thinking about how this world worked. Normally it would not possible to be on top of the world, without knowing about it. Unless you were some of the much famed geniuses who ruled the world with their sheer talent.

*ding*

Like this his days passed. Training, thinking, training, thinking. Of course, he did not neglect his satiety. Without the necessary nutrients, he could not even dream of growing up to be just a fraction of what his peers was physically.

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Third Fireday of the Dragon, 1260 A.E.

Today marks the day of my third birthday according to the calendar that is used in this world. Henceforth I will be using this calendar to mark my age, since using the Gregorian calendar is too much of a hassle compared to the season cycle that is in this place.

The Culonbrian Calendar

The Culonbrian Calendar consists of 4 seasons spanning 70 days each, meaning a year amount to 280 days. The year count is comparable to the Gregorian calendar, A.E. meaning After Exodus and B.E meaning before Exodus, otherwise known as Exodus of The Last Gods or simply the very first day of the Culonbrian calendar. The calendar was named after Scholar Lu, the very same Scholar Lu who completed the very first "History of Amalus" book.

The Days

The Seasons

* Moonday

* Earthsday

* Watersday

* Thundersday

* Firesday

* Saintsday

* Sunday

* Season of the Dragon

* Season of the Titan

* Season of the Serpent

* Season of the Tiger

*ding*

This is the information I have been taught so far about the calendar system in this world. Additionally I have learned that this is the world of Amalus. Interesting.

Lazarus had in the last two Culonbrian years learned many new things. He had learned the language, he had learned a bit of the history, he had learned the days of the week, the seasons and the season cycle.

However, he was not satisfied. It was limited what he could learn from his fellow slaves after all.

To be reborn as a slave, what luck. Even being surrounded by humans with more blessed bodies than mine. What. Luck. Lazarus thought to himself while clicking his tongue.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

*ding*

In the last couple of years he had learned that he was indeed part of a travelling slave caravan, that were mainly used for gladiator arenas to pleasure the eyes of the spectators. Among the spectators were many inhuman creatures.

So this world of Amalus is inhabited by a multitude of races ranging from humans to demi-humans to … what is that? I better ask my supposedly-mother for more information about Amalus.

*ding*

By this time, Lazarus had already learned the language of the humans in this world. It had a clear resemblance to English with just a hint of German and some otherworldly discrepancies.

I better ask carefully, as to not reveal that I have the consciousness of an adult.

- “Mother, why are those humans so weird?”

Lazarus said while pointing towards the front of the caravan.

- “They are not humans, they are the eastern beastmen. Reptiles all of them. Insidious nasty reptiles. They prey on humans because we are vastly inferior to them physically, while both races have a low affinity for magic.”

His mother said with a look of disgust in her face.

Magic huh? Very interesting. From the tone of her speech, she must really hate reptiles and I suppose humans being prey, means that those reptilians are the main slavers. Additionally she mentioned that they were eastern beast men.

I guess I can deduct that multiple types of beastmen exists in Amalus and reasonably one could say that we are currently in the eastern lands. Where ever that may be. I should inquire further about magic, that seems like an interesting subject.

*ding*

- “Mother, what is magic?”

Lazarus asked while looking as confused as he possibly could.

- “Something you will not learn as a slave.”

His mother said, while gazing towards the horizon.

- “Why not, mother?”

Lazarus asked cheekily.

- “I don’t know much about it, but I do know that it’s only for those qualified?”

The woman answered pondering about her own answer.

- “What are those qualifications, mother?”

Lazarus further inquired.

- “I don’t know all of them, but from what I have heard, it’s partly your grade of citizenship, affinity for magic and ultimately the amount of money you have.”

She said while looking terribly unsure.

That is rather fascinating. Seems like there is a clear social hierarchy, and I assume slave is the lowest. That means I have to claw my way up, compared to those with talent. Hahaha! I will definitely make my way up!

*ding*

While Lazarus thought this to himself, a smile could be seen behind his hand covering his mouth while his whole body was shivering as if he was standing naked before an avalanche.

After clearing his thoughts, Lazarus addressed something that had been bothering as of late. He kept hearing a noisy sound in the back of his head in apparently random intervals. Much like the sounds of a small bell being rung. Lazarus focused his mind on the origins of the sound and after a short while many near transparent windows popped up in front of him.

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He kept looking around, but like a facial recognition program, the windows followed his line of sight. Therefore, instead of avoiding the windows began investigating these windows. First by observing, then touching, smelling and after that he collected his observations and organized it within his mind.

First, these near transparent windows are untouchable, odorless and I cannot read the scribbles on them. I wonder what it means. Is it the alphabet of one of the languages in these lands? I guess I will have to learn how to read and write as well!

Full of optimism, drive and a clear goal, Lazarus started exploring the now moving caravan. For he was no longer under the spectator stands watching his fellow slaves killing each other. The slave drivers had bound him in chains, thrown him in to a cage, just as they did with everyone else. Transporting the whole caravan somewhere else.

Meaning the only means of exploring, would be to befriend the other slaves and see what knowledge he could gain from milking their minds dry. Might as well start with my mother, Lazarus thought to himself.

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> Quote:Another short chapter, but I felt like a chapter divide here should be good.