Rise Of The Undead King

A Ritual

As the weight of his new reality sank in, Jack’s thoughts spiralled into frustration.

“F*ck that great one!” His silent curse echoed through his mind. The Great One had dropped him into a world that should’ve been his dream—except it wasn’t.

He hadn’t been reincarnated into just any character.

No, it had to be the most unfortunate soul in the entire series.

“This can’t be real,” Jack thought, his tiny infant body tensing in disbelief. The worst possible twist had been forced on him. His new life wasn’t some grand adventure—this was pure cruelty.

Tears welled up in his eyes, unbidden. He tried to hold them back, but the pain was too deep, too overwhelming.

“Why me?!” he screamed silently.

The helplessness of his situation hit harder than he could have ever imagined, and he hated it.

It just had to be when he had already started picturing his new life.

A sob burst from him, his tiny body shook as tears streamed down his cheeks.

He was powerless. And worse—he couldn’t even understand the language his new parents were speaking. The sounds they made might as well have been gibberish.

“I never read the first chapter,” he remembered. “What if… what if he was cursed from the very start?”

His heart raced, and uncertainty clawed at him.

“Maybe I’m overthinking this,” Jack tried to calm himself. “I’m a prince, right? That’s got to mean something.” He attempted to console himself. “Might as well enjoy the luxury while it lasts.” He grinned inwardly, but even that hollow comfort didn’t help much.

Maria and Arwen carried him gently, their faces a mix of concern and determination. Jack felt uneasy, his nerves sparking with every passing moment.

‘Where are they taking me?’ His mind couldn’t stop racing, thinking of worst-case scenarios.

Elsewhere in the castle, Aldermond, the king, walked with purpose through the vast halls. With a mere gesture, a floating orb appeared before him, shimmering with magic. On the other side of the orb, a square-headed figure flickered to life, awaiting the king’s command.

“Frank,” the king commanded, his tone cool and unshaken, “blow the trumpets, sound the drums. Let all in the city know—the ritual is about to begin.”

Outside, the kingdom stirred. Trumpets blared across the skies, followed by the thunderous beat of drums that echoed through every corner of Neon City.

*THUUUM!*

The sounds were unmistakable—loud, commanding, impossible to ignore. It quickly grabbed the attention of all who heard them. Citizens gathered in the streets, confusion etched on their faces as whispers raced like wildfire.

“What’s going on? Is it the Hubris season?”

“Could it be an angel’s arrival?”

“No, no—it has to be the bloodline ritual.”

Speculation buzzed through the crowds as more and more people rushed toward the towering castle at the heart of the city.

Meanwhile, Jack found himself being bathed in warm water, his small body pampered and cared for as if he were a delicate treasure. He couldn’t help but let out a tiny, contented sigh as his muscles relaxed.

“Maybe I’m worrying for nothing,” he mused.

No matter how much he wanted to deliberate on it, there was no possible way for one to be cursed from his very birth.

“I’m a prince now, I’ll have time to avoid whatever bad luck this body might bring. And I’ll learn magic!” His heart fluttered with excitement at the thought. “I know how the story goes. I can change things and rewrite the ending for good.”

His mind danced with the possibilities, the idea of mastering magic sending a rush of adrenaline through his small frame. The weight of his new identity seemed to lift, replaced by the thrill of what was to come. “I will outsmart this world,” he thought confidently.

But his thoughts were interrupted by Maria’s voice. “My lady, the ritual will begin shortly. We should prepare.”

Arwen, lost in her own thoughts, absentmindedly combed through her hair, her face pale.

“Oh… right.” She snapped out of her daze, her smile forced as she moved toward her wardrobe to pick an outfit for the event.

At the same time, Aldermond climbed the spiralling stairs to the tower’s peak. The higher he climbed, the denser the air became, though it did little to hinder him.

The wind up was fierce and whipped at his long green hair as he stepped out onto the balcony, overlooking the sprawling city below.

Two guards stood alert at the entrance, their golden armor gleaming in the fading sunlight.

“What of my lady?” Aldermond asked, his tone betraying a trace of impatience.

“She is on her way,” one guard responded, his voice steady.

Satisfied, Aldermond stepped forward and addressed the crowd. His voice, amplified by magic, boomed across the horizon and reached every ear below.

“People of Neon City!”

The murmurs below stopped instantly as the king’s voice silenced the masses.

“Today, we gather to witness the bloodline ritual of my firstborn son!” His announcement was met with gasps of disbelief.

For years, rumors had swirled that Aldermond could not produce a male heir, that his line would end with him. But now, hearing the truth from the king’s own lips, the truth sent waves of shock through the people.

Just then, Arwen arrived, cradling baby Asriel in her arms. The cool breeze tugged at Jack’s tiny form, and though the height made his breath catch, Maria’s magic kept him comfortable. He felt the wind brush his face and, oddly, a strange sense of calm settled over him.

“Being a child isn’t so bad after all,” Jack thought, his anxiety slowly fading. “Once this is over, I’ll dive into learning magic. No way I’m letting this chance slip.”

But Aldermond’s voice, resonating with power, brought Jack’s attention back to the ritual.

“The ritual will now begin!” The king’s voice echoed, and Jack felt his tiny body being lifted from Arwen’s arms.

Suddenly, Aldermond’s voice turned into a low, intense chant.

“My ancestors, hear my call, and grant your blood thy heavenly protection.”

Mana swirled around him, pouring out in waves into the sky as he continued.

Above them, a massive rune flared to life in the sky, its light bathing the city in an ethereal, otherworldly glow.

And then, without warning, Aldermond released Jack.

Jack’s tiny body plummeted from the balcony.

“What the—?!”