The Children of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (good fiction books to read .TXT) 📖

the scars of his manhood in an iron vise. Apparently the poison was already working.

- "Praise be to Agares, my lord," Zontul cried, driving a fist into the face of his violent charge.

He tried to regain his balance, but his testicles were drowned in a flood of fire. The pain was unbearable and made his throat go silent. Very soon he would not be among the living. The various scenes of violence he had participated in and the numerous victims who had failed to quench his thirst for cosmic domination flashed through his mind.

- "Your kingdom is over, Archpriest," the boy recoiled slightly and drove a punch into the cleric's groin.

Kazuk Mon collapsed on the rock where the fight was being fought. Fortunately there were no laymen near them. No one even suspected the brutal scene.

The Archpriest was weakening, but Emborian grabbed a laser cutter he was hiding under his robes and plunged it right into his heart. The old man wheezed and fell. Convulsive convulsions gripped his body and very soon he was not among the living.

- "I did Agares' bidding," Emborian groaned. "There was no trace of the meek and humble boy left, but it lasted only a few seconds and he regained his former appearance very soon."

The old man's blood had turned the rock into a hideous place that should not even have been visible to the naked eye. Emborian turned away in disgust. Kazuk Mon seemed so insignificant now!

The bright sun would soon be hidden and its reddish glare made the rock look like it was made of dark, opaque glass.

Emborian looked around his robe. There was no sign of blood. He had a clear conscience. He had not castrated the old man, nor had he mocked his corpse. He had simply eliminated his enemy!

He looked again and realized that the archivist was only the first obstacle to his boundless power. He wanted to inflict true armageddon on this planet, and the forces of Hell could only help him. After that, he could even become the master of Hell itself!

From the height of the cliff, he could survey the entire colony, hushed in anticipation. Apparently the laity had indulged in an afternoon nap before evening mass. By then he had had enough time to think how to hide the body of the Archpriest, so that he would be found late enough and no one would doubt his innocеnce. That might well have happened! But there was one thing, and that was that his master, Agares, had told him nothing of the murder of Kazuk Mon. He had only ordered him to keep on good terms with him. The old lecher hadn't even had time to get angry with him. That thought cheered the novice up. He now set about stowing the corpse in a special benzonium sack. Then he took out a pharonic paste and smeared the blood and, with the help of special sponges, soaked it so that there were barely perceptible traces left on the rocks. He had to work harder until the rock regained its original shape and colour. Now it was the turn of the most special part, namely where to put this corpse!

After much deliberation, he decided he could hide it under the rock and set to digging with frantic vigour. He dug the hole with his bare hands in a quarter of an hour. The soil yielded easily under his long sinewy fingers. He slid the log into the long narrow hole and generously began to throw handfuls of yellowish soil onto the sack. This exhausted him and he was swimming in sweat all over. It was downright disgusting! Finally he put in a few smaller stones, which further masked his work.

He sat up and looked around at his sore hands. He had to do the most delicate part of his job, which was to hide any marks and scars from his fight with the old man.

He went unnoticed to his resting places through a secret tunnel that only he knew.

When he entered the crypt he only found the woman in tears, who with difficulty explained to him what had happened. Zontul masterfully posed as the colony's savior, but he had a feeling she wasn't telling him everything.

The woman explained to him why she had hidden Zorin. When he heard his father's name, Emborian slapped his forehead.

- "Where is he?," he asked her impatiently. "I want to see him."

She led him to the crypt and to those central recesses that proved to be the general's final abode and where perhaps his soul had found rest.

His eyes welled with tears. He tried to hide the tremor in his voice.

- Here at last I saw him in his dying hour. This is the reward I have wanted for so many years. Clearly, I have inherited my physical strength from him.

The woman was torn. She could clearly see the blood-stained robe of the novice, and his voice was so heartbreaking. She didn't doubt that he was sincere at the moment, but he still seemed extremely dangerous to her. His charm enchanted her. He had a magnetism in his voice that drew people into his ideas and views, even if they were completely wrong.

- "How did you open the crypt?," she asked him quickly.

- "Well, a bean job," the boy justified himself. The woman didn't press further. He just kept quiet.

The novice looked around at his father's clothes. He did not notice that there were signs of a struggle, for his mind was elsewhere at the moment.

- "I must get cleaned up," he told her.

- "I'll help you," she agreed.

They removed the robe and burned it in one of the altars, and the novice put on the dead Zorin's clothes. They were simple enough - they only threw out the uniform because it was garish.

The woman found a novice robe that covered Zorin's clothing.

Now Emborian could return to his flock and assert his authority. More than ten thousand people were waiting for him to lead them into a new and brighter future!

Hell's design was beginning to come true. The first great obstacle had been removed. It was the turn of the Archpriest of Synthros.

MAG TU

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: MAG TU

 

Mighty powers were to be summoned to the ceremony that night. Emborian was in no hurry to do so. Yes, he had to act, but not in this irresponsible way. There were many other important things to consider as well. Somewhere more significant was his choice for Mag Tu. The two-week period was almost up. In just twelve hours, he would be the full ruler of all. Where it was more interesting, however, was to research a little more about his background. The woman couldn't give him much useful information as she didn't know Zorin too well herself. But he had a feeling something big was going to happen soon.

His flock had welcomed him with open arms. And the poison obtained through "The Children of Kasdeya" was the thing that had solidified his power. Surely the Ufurgans would have cheered if they knew how effective their poison was.

Emborian had matured enough in those few days to realize that very soon he would concentrate a vast and almost limitless power in his hands.

That would have frightened most people, but not Emborian. He was all too aware of his abilities, but without being cocky.

The first part of it all was his re-introduction of himself to the congregation, but this one without Kazuk Mon. Incidentally, no one raised their voice and asked where exactly the archivist had gone.

The second and most significant part was the summoning ceremony near the ruins of Tarash Duk - there everyone would see the power of their Mag Tu.

The woman hurried to introduce herself:

- My name is Kibera. And I've been here a long time. This colony wasn't created in a day.

Emborian looked at her carefully. The woman seemed out of place.

- "Soon you'll have a brand new name and a new life," the boy boomed. "You kind of saved me," he added. "A Mag Tu must keep his word."

The hour of the ceremony was approaching. Everything had to be right. But there could be some problems.

Emborian had greatly increased his knowledge and powers under the demonic tutelage of his patron. He could now handle ancient languages and also read star charts much better. He had also become a much more attractive and magnetic individual.

Agares kept his promises and gave generous handfuls. The young Zontul was smart and knew he could only benefit from Hell's gifts, but they wouldn't last forever. Kazuk Mon was most likely also tricked with similar unclean practices before he crippled his manhood and ripped out his heart. One day, he too might be targeted, and that day might not be so far off.

- "How quickly it all unfolds indeed," the novice murmured.

- "How little I have known myself in reality!," The woman drew nearer and he felt her breath.

- You must know something. Unclean forces had followed on your father's heels.

Emborian was hypocritically astonished, but inwardly consumed with horror. He realized that Hell was looking for something important and Kazuk Mon and the foolish flock were just the tip of the iceberg.

But he didn't have time to ponder more, because the ceremony had to begin. It was all about becoming Mag Tu for good!

The reans in the first circle of the pedestal had begun to radiate pure energy. A magical aura had begun to spring forth and everything was bathed in light.

The sect members bowed to the ground, and supreme astonishment at the upcoming miracle was written all over their faces.

Emborian wiped his brow slightly and began to order magical words to enhance the energy concentration around the place. Soon, the power of the magic would become downright awesome. But he felt a slight hesitant twitch. Something wasn't right!

The weather wasn't exactly pleasant, and dusk was looming because it was late autumn and some days were too sunny and warm, while others were the opposite - cold and frosty.

A light drizzle began to fall, pattering on the cheeks of the new Sorcerer Supreme.

He strained his strength!

It was as if an invisible veil had descended before his eyes. The words came from his lips though correctly somewhat mechanically. And for true magic one needed a heart! Obviously someone or something was in his way. Or was he fooling himself?

IMAYA

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: IMAYA

 

Women on a team sometimes notice things that are quite possible to escape the gaze of men. Imaya was a valuable