‘Isn’t this what you meant when you said I could potentially create a race of Undead?’ Alaster asked, reading his newest Ability numerous times, not sure if he was reading it correctly.

Belgroth was similarly shocked, ‘No. This is entirely different. What I was talking about was creating a living creature out of the dead, soul and all. This? This is completely different. It is not creating a race. It is another Minion.

Think of it this way.

Most of your Minions are Novice Tiered. A strong Novice or any Adept worth anything can reliably defeat them. They are mindless, stupid, and weak. Their greatest strength with always be their numbers.

Recently, you have started to create Adept Tiered Minions. Strong Adepts or casual Experts will defeat them. They should ideally become the bulk of your army. They have minimal intelligence and ability to operate independently.

Then there are Expert Tiered Minions. They are powerful, even for Experts. They are very intelligent. Can operate completely independently, and even command other Minions and quite possibly even be able to create or summon their own Minions. These Minions will form the backbone of your army.

If I am speaking honestly, you are still quite far from creating Expert Tiered Minions. You have the ability, you just don’t have the skill with manipulating Mana Streams in order to accomplish it.

But this? This Rebirth? It is what your System would classify as Master Tiered Minions. Potentially.’

‘Potentially?’ Alaster asked, numb.

Unlike most, Alaster knew the value and strength of these Tiers, even if he had not experienced them himself. He had worked with the lower Tiers enough to understand the value. The power jump from Novice Tier and Adept Tier Minions had been vast. Alaster could only imagine the power jump from Adept to Expert.

‘Potentially,’ Belgroth repeated, ‘This Ability practically revives the person, minus the soul. They keep their memories, or rather, their memories are returned. Perhaps you should try it out on the bodies of those Experts that managed to kill you?’

‘It’s been a month. I doubt they kept the bodies.’ Alaster grumbled.

‘If they didn’t, they would truly be idiots. The bodies of Experts have countless uses. Alchemy, Enchanting, Smithing, the list goes on. And, by right they belong to use as the one to kill them.’ Sedall spoke up.

‘I’ll ask them tomorrow then. I’m exhausted. Wait, Belgroth, in what way were you harmed by my death?’

‘It really wasn’t your death that harmed me. I was injured by you foolishly dying, but not nearly as much as when that…thing, took control of your body. Since my soul is bound to your own, part of my soul was ripped away, following you into the Ether.

That really hurt, so do not do that again.

However, with your soul gone, and mine only damaged, it naturally filled the gap. I took control of your fragile body, as broken as it was. But then I was, quite violently, shoved away once more by that thing.’ Belgroth paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

‘Alaster, whatever that thing is, be wary of it. I am dead, so I am weakened, but my soul is still on par with the strongest of your Human Gods. And yet, it still pushed me around like a toddler in a hurricane.’

‘Now that’s just a sad visual.’ Sedall chuckled.

‘I’m serious.’

‘I know you are. I’ve fought it, remember?’

‘No, you fought a person using it. You didn’t fight it directly.’

‘That’s true.’ Sedall said somberly, envisioning such a nightmare.

‘Go to sleep Alaster. You have a lot of work to do tomorrow, regardless of how bad you feel.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You died, stupid. All your Minions disappeared, including your Adept ones. Not just, got destroyed. They are gone. If they were destroyed, you could just resummon them. You have to remake them from nothing.’

‘Shit!’ Alaster exclaimed mentally, groaning in pain as he moved.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

‘That’s for tomorrow. Today, just rest.’ Sedall soothed.

Taking his mentors’ advice, Alaster was quickly asleep. But it was not restful. His mind was plagued by the night of his parents’ death, replaying in his mind, over and over again. Some things changed between replays. Sometimes the ones that killed them were still there, reaching towards Alaster. Sometimes his parents were still alive, begging Alaster to save them.

But the worst was when Alaster saw his sister with his parents. Hanging from the hooks stabbed through her body. Blood pouring out of countless wounds. Her cold lifeless eyes staring into Alaster.

When the sun rose again, peaking through the windows, the day found Alaster sitting up in the bed, tightly hugging his knees. Neither Belgroth nor Sedall had the heart to speak up. There were some things they could not help with, as ancient as they were.

As the sunlight spread through the room, finally reaching his tightly shut eyes, Alaster got out of bed, ignoring the pain shooting through his body. He needed to get the nightmares out of his mind, and the best way he knew how to do that was by meditating. He needed to rebuild his army anyway.

The Pact armor formed over his body as he walked to the door, completely covering him before he left the room. As the Pact obscured his body, Alaster activated [Death Embrace], relishing in the emotional numbness that came with it. Though strangely, it did nothing to numb the pain, as it usually did.

It was still fairly early in the morning. Most of those that Alaster spotted in the hallways were servants and guards, and even those were few, though they all stopped to stare in wonder and disbelief at Alaster.

Alaster quickly reached the Training Hall. Not a moment too soon, the haunted young man sat down, crossing his legs, and quickly settled into a deep meditative state. Deeper than he had ever fallen, desperate to forget the visions. Yet they persisted. Deeper still, he went. Not just blocking out the world around him, but completely forgetting its existence.

Finally, Alaster reached a point where the Visions were muted, a distant memory, but still present. He began the process of rebuilding his army.

To anyone watching from within the Training Hall, the armored Alaster was wreathed in sickly green Mana, calmly yet rapidly circulating around him. A hurricane of Mana, with Alaster within the eye.

Yet anyone who had seen Alaster’s Mana before would notice a change. A black aura around each wisp of Mana, almost outlining it. This aura seemed to act as a liquid, flowing around the Mana.

But Alaster was ignorant of this change. He desperately sought to fall deeper into his Meditation as he slowly rebuilt his Adept Minions. Desperately seeking to forget. Knowing, he would never be able to.

Hours passed in a blink of an eye. A few peeked in to see what the great Onigarian Savior was doing, but none could tolerate the oppressive revulsion the black aura gave. As Alaster reformed the Minions, they stood guard over their Master. And as Alaster’s Mana continued to flood the room, they left, guarding the doors, stoically preventing any from entering.

Though the Dread Knights seemed to dare everyone they saw to try to enter.

A few guards attempted to push past the Minions, but the War Born drew their swords, the Iron Guardians presented their shields, and the Dread Knights held their serrated blades with joy, filling the hallways with bloodlust. The Shadow Assassins had stayed in the room, hiding in the shadows.

Though unlike the others, when Iris and Astrid approached, the Minions stood aside, allowing them, and only them, to enter.

Wisps of the black covered Mana peeked under the door, generating a feeling of profound wrongness within the girls, but they pushed past it, entering the room.

The ordinarily bright Hall, illuminated by numerous Mage Lights, was dark. The Lights still shone, but the light refused to enter the room. Pale green Mana swirled around the room, circulating around the pillars and other objects like wind. At the epicenter of it all sat Alaster, though they could only see him between the countless wisps of Mana as they raced around him.

The two young women felt sick to their cores, their minds screamed at them to flee, but their hearts urged them to stay.

They stayed, for two more hours, they stayed, and watched, ensuring the safety of one they held closely to their hearts. They wished to stay longer, but the Mana gradually grew thicker, more dense. And as it did, it no longer remained safe for the two women.

Even then, they were hesitant to leave. Only when the four Shadows revealed themselves and ushered them away, did they leave.

Even then, they stayed nearby.

It was only until Keylan, City Lord of Onigas, attempted to enter the room, that Alaster began to awaken from his trance. The City Lord had heard from his servants about the Training Hall had been blocked and wondered what was happening, as he had ordered no such thing.

The Minions blocked him as he made to push past, but a mental command from Alaster allowed the Lord through. Even in his trance, or perhaps because of it, Alaster had felt the presence of a powerful Expert nearby.

Keylan felt the powerful Mana within and entered cautiously, though he didn’t show it to the Girls, Guards, and Servants watching. Closing the door behind him, Keylan watched in worry as the Mana gradually left the room, entering Alaster.

Only after nearly ten minutes did the Training Hall return to normal.

Alaster slowly stood up, facing the City Lord.

“I wish to see the bodies of the Experts I killed.”

Keylan was stunned by what he had just seen and was slow to respond, “Alright. But what was that?”

“I needed to rebuild my army. And think through some things. Dying has that effect on people.”

“So I’ve heard.” Keylan absently said, shaking his head slightly, he spoke up, “Well, you killed quite a few Experts. We have them preserved in a small warehouse nearby.”

“Take me there. I wish to use them.”

“That’s fine, but perhaps it can wait for a few hours? The Galmorian Representatives wish to speak with you, and it seemed somewhat urgent.”

Alaster would have sighed, if he had lungs at the moment. He knew he would have to speak with them eventually, after all, he was supposed to be trained by one of their most powerful. However, he had wanted to put it off for a little while.

“Fine. Lets get this over with. I’m in little mood to deal with politicians.”

From behind the City Lord, came a deep gravelly voice, “You and me both.”