Bro, I'm not an Undead!



Setkh could only feel sorry for himself.

No one was here care.

No one was here to pity the fact that after he left the Family, he was stricken with the most twisted shot of bad luck he could ever imagine.

A month after his lone traversal began, he found himself captured by a renown group of bandits who had been tipped about him wandering with half-assed purpose by someone he had done business with earlier, hoping to build something.

His red hair did not do him any favours. He was easily recognised as someone from rich blood, especially in the region close to his Family's lands.

And so, he had been detained for a long time in a cave and treated like a dog.

He didn't know why he was simply kept there, with barely any food or drink, but he remembered the experience.

Oh, he remembered it vividly.

The immobile time.

The maddening silence.

The bandits who captured him didn't seem to care about getting ransom or anything. Some simply enjoyed watching him go insane while naked in the small, dirty space. Some occasionally coming down to beat the ever-shining daylights out of him.

The burning rage he felt each time...

Perhaps that was the point.

Not all bandits were brainless pricks in search of money.

Some were spiteful bastards who enjoyed watching the rich and privileged suffer.

Setkh groaned as he remembered the experience. It almost made him forget that he had more pain to deal with right now. He breathed heavily and screamed at Stylla when he recalled that she didn't know all this.

"Do you know... what... what kept me going? What kept me sane? It was the thought of you... I.. it just did. Your face... the last words you had said to me. Words that father didn't bother to say to me!"

A sad smile crept up on his face.

"I wanted to get back to you so badly... that I... I told them everything. I was betrayed, beaten and kept in a dark cave... and, and to get out... I had to them everything. Our secrets... about father, about the Harmonic Ember... everything. And... I was supposed to give that crystal to them in exchange for my freedom but... when I got the chance to see you again after so long..." he paused.

After he told them that he had something that they may fancy, Setkh discovered that this wasn't a simple group of bandits. They were a powerful organisation that hunted unique items but by some, strict rule... they couldn't saunter over to the Bryne Family Residence and take everything he had told them.

Thus, first, they used a powerful artefact – one so powerful that just stating the name of the target and their description would guarantee its efficacy – to curse his father so as to ensure that when he left, he would return with what they wanted, since only they had the method to remove it.

Stylla knew more than anyone else how true that had ended up being... until now at least.

The next thing, the bandits sent him off, and in case he faced problems, they gave him a ring that he could use to summon some of them.

But Setkh hadn't done as he was told, as they had expected. Upon seeing Stylla after so long... he discarded everyone else and simply chose to enjoy her company and the prospect that there was only him and her.

They owned the Family now.

Be it bickering with Stylla over what path the Family needed to follow, or simply flirting with his sister... Setkh sank into the new life, feeding the twisted love he had for his sister.

If only those bastards hadn't chosen to slickly tip off Stylla, telling her that he was the one who cursed their father, which ruined everything, forcing him to follow the plan in the end...

Argh.

And now, there was no way they would honour their end of what had been a deal. They would never remove the curse on his father.

But he could barely give a damn.

While he cared for his father, and the man had cared for him... Setkh was not concerned about that at all.

It was all about Stylla. That's all he cared about.

And now, he hoped his love for her could save his life, if he just professed it.

"I love you Stylla. Please... don't let it end like this... I'll find a way to cure father...I'll atone for what I have done... I.. I.. I'll do anything..." Setkh pleaded solemnly.

...But still, Stylla still have him a cold glare without a shred of emotion showing on it.

Setkh began to think that she wasn't even listening to a word he said, and he couldn't help but be overtaken by an overpowering anxiety and fear.

"Please....I told you why... I explained why I did it... Is the pain I also suffered meaningless... Was I so wrong that I deserve... death?" he cried.

And to his surprise...

"No. Death is too merciful an end for you."

The chilling voice of Stylla finally came.

When it did, Setkh felt his torso and his severed parts turn rigid as a wild gush of Aura funnelled into them, turning his skin and flesh as hard as clay.

Setkh's face became bloated, his eyes rolling back with blood streaming out of them as thick blood vessels pressed against the viscera. The agony he felt couldn't be expressed in sound. He merely shook as his body changed.

His torso turned rough, its colour changing to a chocolate brown shade and merging with his strained face. His limbs floated over to join the ominous shape he was being sculpted into, his arms bending at the elbow to create what were two dark brown handles to Setkh's rough skinned torso that had the clothes burned away and crafted into the full likeness of a large jar.

His legs were broken at numerous points and used as even stands that melded under his body, while from the top of his head to his interior, a large open space was made to give this container... containing capacity.

Soon, the young man from the Bryne Family had become a large, dark brown jar, but from the look of his face merged into the exterior, one could see that he was still alive... barely.

The cold Stylla extended her hand onto the opening of Setkh's body and a fog made entirely out of darkness was expelled from her palm into the jar.

This was the curse Stylla had extracted from her father!

"You will carry this for the rest of your life," she said, her voice completely devoid of emotion.

Vengeance was exacted, just as Stylla had desired, but it wasn't really her doing it with her right mind.

Her true consciousness was buried under an influence she could not shirk away on her own.

"How cruel. Was this truly the actualisation of the ambition that was burning in you? Fascinating," the being who had been watching the sentimental and brutal show said, causing Stylla to turn.

The Null Devil King smiled.

Stylla extended her hand to the creature, but the kingly being swiped with his finger, swatting away a devastating blast of Aura that tried to smash into him.

Said blast of Aura, while nothing for the Null Devil King, actually levelled the house and everything within a mile's radius of it with ease after being stricken off course.

"Sit," the BoneTender said.

Stylla was overwhelmed by a furious authority that slammed her onto the dusty, rubble-ridden ground – the remains of the destroyed house.

She couldn't get up.

She scowled and glared at the Null Devil King.

The creature laughed.

"Be at ease. I only want your help with something. Even for you who has lost your mind, navigating this world should be a simple thing, no? Ah, my words fall on deaf ears. Of course! Of course! Thankfully, my host had an understanding of the common tongue in this world," it said before drawing close to Stylla.

It then switched from speaking in an unknown language and addressed the beautiful redhead while running its long finger on her cheek.

"Taming beautiful things is the work of Kings. I would confess myself baffled if I didn't have you as a servant journeying with me to retrieve the hidden marvels of this Rich World within the week. Baffled!"

A lengthy grin stretched on the Null Devil King's face.