The next day the seeds were put into the soil and Kiara secured the farm with her spell. Over the next few days every evening I would go to the farm and connect to the real world so Kiara could come and cast her spell.

The seeds germinated and after a while reached the foul smelling stage.

There were eighty plants growing close to each other, and considering the well-being of the guards, I asked them to remain a couple of hundred meters away from the farm where the strong fetor could not reach them but they could easily keep an eye on the farm.

The plants entered the stage of sweet fragrance. During this period children would flock to the farm and enjoy being there as did Kiara.

It was also during this time that the builders informed me that no more work was left on my new palace. The bed too was done.

However, I decided not to move to the palace until after harvest as I wanted to make it an auspicious occasion.

The plants finally bore fruit. Imagine my dismay to see that no less than ten were black. It greatly depressed me. Had some disease infected the crops? Would it spread to all the fruits and have catastrophic consequences?

I did not waste any time and rushed to the Zombies. Dieana however laughed at my face.

“Well, there couldn't be better news," she said and from her tone it was impossible to discern whether she really meant what she said or she was being sarcastic.

“I have only seen white fruits till now. Will I be able to extract evilese from the black ones?”

“Yes, of course you will,” the queen assured, “and not only that the black fruits will have seeds inside them.”

“Really?” It was a pleasant surprise to hear that. My initial fear turned to elation.

“You will find out for yourself in a while,” Dieana told me, a smile on her bluish lips.

But that did not happen, in fact, nobody could have predicted what happened next.

My dreams of holding seeds produced in my own farm were crushed in the most brutal fashion possible.

The fruits had ripened enough and were awaiting harvest. The rich aroma was long gone and the children had stopped visiting the farm.

The guards and I were at the farm. After a string of cloudy days, a cheerful bright sun was celebrating our accomplishment.

The next day we would pluck the fruits. I felt like I was in the lap of success, as I rested beneath the shade of a nearby tree. My eyes were closed as I listened to the soft rustle of the stream. I was at peace.

Next I would bring two hundred seeds from the Zombies, not to forget the seeds produced at home. A few more successful harvests and I would achieve my ultimate goal.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

The Evil Crops were going to be my ticket to a normal life in the real world. I was proud that despite all the obstacles, I had persevered.

My thoughts got loftier as I imagined what new ability Dharti would grant me tomorrow. The possibilities made my spine tingle with excitement.

I was pulled out from my fantasies by a thud. A few more thuds followed in quick succession. I opened my eyes a chink. There were no guards at the farm. But they had only been there a few moments back…

I sat upright and frowned. My heart skipped a beat. Each one of the monsters was lying on the ground, an arrow stuck to their throat. I shook with fear. How did this happen?

I advanced towards the dead guards, overtaken by emotions, though something told me at the back of my mind that doing so was stupid. I was friendly with the monsters. Only a few minutes ago I had joked with them… and now they were gone.

I scrutinized one dead guard after the other, their listless eyes judging me. I checked the spot. A wave of anger jolted me.

“Who did it?” I cried in blind fury. No answer. Without a doubt this was the work of players. A wise voice inside my head implored me to run from the spot as quick as possible and come back later with reinforcements, but the blind rage was too strong and it overpowered the wise voice.

“Who did it?” I cried again at the top of my lungs.

A figure stepped into view from behind a tree.

An archer.

“Hey man, you better not think of stealing our loot,” the archer warned. He was under the impression that I was a player. But did he say “our loot”?

That could only mean he had companions. I caught a movement from the corner of my eyes. Another archer stepped forth from behind the foliage. A third player appeared and gave a cry.

“He’s an Evilun!”

Barely did he speak that an arrow whizzed past my ears. The arrow would have hit my face if I had not made an abrupt movement to escape it.

The other two archers also let go of their arrows. I leapt and avoided one, but in the process the other hit my arm. Pain exploded, my health bar dropped. Blood oozed out.

The archers approached, fixing new arrows to their bow strings.

The first bowman was confused.

“Are you sure he’s an Evilun?” he asked. “He doesn’t look like one to me.”

“My ‘sight’ never lies,” the third archer guaranteed.

“So you are a shapeshifter?” the second archer asked me. I observed that the trio had similar faces. Were they brothers in the real world, playing together as a team?

“No,” I replied in a hoarse voice. My arm was throbbing, and my eyes were leaking tears. “Why did you kill them?” I nodded at the corpses of my followers.

“Well, we got this nice little quest to destroy this farm,” the third brother smiled.

He withdrew what looked like a small metallic ball and threw it at my farm. When the ball landed it released dirty black fumes. In seconds the farm was blazing.

The crops shrivelled up in the flames and turned to ash. The sight of that hurt me more than the arrow still lodged in my biceps.

The third brother continued speaking casually to me.

“Are you really the king of the Skhites and the Hornies?” he asked curiously. “Or is my Sight faulty?”

The three brothers were very close to me by now.

“But why would their king be a human?” the second brother asked.

Meanwhile, the bodies of the dead guards too caught fire.

I had been kneeling all the while, and now I abruptly got up. I transformed into a Skhite and gritting my teeth wrenched out the arrow from my arm.

I was able to grab the bows of two of the archers and hurled them away. However the third archer launched an arrow, which hit my stomach.

I fell on my buttocks. The next moment the other two archers drew arrows from their quivers and buried them into my chest.

I was in pain, but unwilling to surrender. Drawing strength from where I did not know, I clutched the first brother by his neck. Making an inhuman groan, I pulled out one of the arrows lodged in me, bits of flesh coming out with it, and jabbed his throat multiple times in quick succession. Blood spurted out.

The second brother I kicked on the groin and boxed his nose. Then I picked up a stone and flung it at the third brother. He ducked and the stone flew past him. He let loose another arrow and it hit my midriff with such force that I was thrown towards the stream.