Eve marched on gravelly grounds for a whole day, feeling neither the blazing afternoon sun nor the fatigue of travel. How could he? He was a clay man, a Clay King to be exact.

‘Adventure was fun,’ Eve patted his chest, feeling the rough texture of his stick chestplate. ‘But this isn't freedom. My heart doesn't beat and my blood isn't boiling.’

Eve felt it before. He felt “free” the moment he opened his eyes as a clay man. His bloodless body pumped thrill through his nonexistent veins, a roar of a free beast tore through his throat, and his heartless chest pounded with excitement.

And yet…

‘Before, I was a slave to gods, now I’m a slave to my own body.’

He was a human once, and his name brought gods to their knees. But now, he was nothing but a tiny clay man, a “Clay King” who led an army of “clay soldiers.”

‘If only I didn't die,’ Eve lamented. To break the leash of the gods around his neck, he ruthlessly cut down his body to free his soul. It was his pure luck that shoved his soul into a clay man, and he was powerless to change it.

Eve shook his head, crouching behind a big rock. Though to him, who's barely over a finger tall, it was like a boulder. He was next to a powerful stream of water running down the forest, and beyond the stream was a swarm of little clay soldiers.

‘Red,’ Eve narrowed his eyes. Clay men were separated by color, and those of different colors can never coexist. Even those of the same color can't have peace as long as they have different Clay Kings.

Death, or victory, that was the fate of all clay men.

‘Where’s their Clay King?’

Every clay army consisted of cannon fodder and the Clay King, the one controlling the puppet army of clay soldiers.

‘Ah, there he is,’ Eve hummed while watching the Red Clay King climb a tower made of sticks. The tower was crude at best, just like a tower of cards that would crumble at the slightest gust of wind.

‘Pitiful,’ Eve shook his head. The red clay soldiers had no armor or weapons. ‘I can kill them all,’ Eve contemplated. Although he and the Red Clay King were both “Clay Kings,” the power difference between them was like an ant and an elephant. Even with the clay army of one thousand, what could puppets do when the puppeteer dies?

‘But I need my army,’ Eve groaned. He didn't need his army to fight, he needed them to build. No matter how powerful he was, he was just one man after all. ‘This place is great for building a kingdom,’ Eve hummed.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Originally, he wanted to use the clay soldiers to scout the area for him but unfortunately, clay soldiers can't communicate.

‘Time to head back, we've got a kingdom to build,’ Eve smirked, feeling jumpy all of a sudden. It was his long lost dream to be a king, a dream he failed to reach as the gods wreaked havoc across his old homeland.

‘Damned gods.’

+

The battle lasted as long as a matchstick's flame and his army was barely scratched. Out of his ten thousand soldiers, only a few hundred “died.”

On the contrary, the Red Clay King's army was now a lump of red clay, or in Eve's eyes, a mountain of corpses. Eve approached the lump of clay before placing his palm on it. Then, as though it was boiling lava, the lump of clay churned and formed humanoid figures like zombies emerging from underground. A few minutes passed and a thousand clay soldiers were resurrected, and their color changed from red to gray, Eve's color.

‘Sadly,’ Eve sighed, seeing no signs of another Clay King. ‘If only Clay Kings could be resurrected, I'd have some company...’

Eve paused, shaking his head. A month of silence made his chest heavy and sometimes, he had a hard time getting up. The worst part was that he didn't know how to fix it.

“Come, let's build our kingdom in peace.”

‘Maybe achieving my dream will help.’

He had no real goal. Not right now. Originally, he wanted to regain his strength and take revenge on the gods, but that was a pipe dream. What a joke, what could he do? Throw micro-clumps of clay at gods?

With nothing else to do, he tried following the way of the clay men, conquering most of this tiny world in just a month after his rebirth. But that too was like spitting on the desert to water grass.

‘It’s like I'm a dead man dreaming inside a casket.’

Sighing, he led his troops and had them build houses. It took a week, but soon a “kingdom” with houses made of sticks and dirt was born. That very same day, he had his army craft a wall as well as a castle.

‘Boring,’ Eve sat on his throne made from sticks and leaves. Inside the throne room, a dozen clay soldiers were kneeling.

‘It’s meaningless.’

He was now an “King.” A king of a lifeless world.

Eve lowered his head, looking at his palms. ‘Surrounded by thousands of clay men, I feel nothing. Like I'm in a room full of portraits, talking to paintings by myself,’ he chuckled, feeling his limbs go heavy.

“Haaa…” Eve dismissed the dozen clay soldiers he summoned. “What a worthless second life.”

Eve watched his “blossoming” kingdom in silence. It wasn't until three days later that he made up his mind.

“I need power, the power to break this world and enter a new one.”

He couldn't use magic and aside from his skills and control over clay soldiers, he couldn't do much else.

‘Maybe I can improve my control on clay soldiers,’ Eve thought, though doubtful. Nevertheless, he only had option A.

Eve watched as a dozen clay soldiers entered the clearing while carrying a fist-sized rock. After dropping it, the clay soldiers looked at him.

“Go on, break it,” Eve nodded. Alone, he could break the rock with his fists after a whole day. With a dozen clay soldiers armed with rock fragments, the process should be faster.

The clay soldiers worked from dawn ‘till dusk before Eve saw a small crack on the rock's surface. Eve frowned at the sight.

‘They're too weak!’ Eve stood up, ordering the clay soldiers to move aside. ‘It only took me an hour to form cracks on a rock like this, and I was barehanded!’

Eve cocked his fist back, before using all his strength to punch the rock!

CRACK—

“Hmm?”

Eve stood in place, observing the web of cracks that spread all over the rock. The more cracks formed, the lighter his feet got.

‘Did I get stronger?’ Eve giggled.

The last time he pummeled a rock to pieces was when he first became a Clay King. In other words, over a month ago, and back then he had no clay soldiers in his name. Now, he had an army behind him.

‘Could it be?’ Eve glanced at his clay soldiers, but before he could finish his thoughts…

Shaaaaaaa—!

‘What the—?!’

A blinding white light engulfed his body, and in a flash, he disappeared. Not only that, but the kneeling clay men, the cracked rock, and the blowing wind froze as though awaiting their king.

+

Meanwhile, a young man was furiously smashing his keyboard and mouse, his eyes peeled open as he stared at his computer.

“Come on, come on, not like this!”

On the screen, a display of a red dragon and a blue water monster were fighting each other. The red dragon was unscathed, flying freely in the air, while the water monster was rapidly evaporating into mist.