"Reincarnation?" Adrian muttered to himself, still confused by what was happening.
"No, that doesn't make any sense…"
If reincarnation truly existed, then he should have been completely reborn. Currently, only his face was different.
Something else was afoot…
He rose to his feet, only to stumble back and fall, when a ball of black flames suddenly appeared in front of him.
It was a ghostly fire, with sparks of blue and purple embers raging within it.
But even as eerie as the fire looked, Adrian found himself drawn to it.
He rose to his feet and inched a little closer, his caution getting the better of him.
Taking a sharp breath, Adrian reached for the ball of fire, and just as his hands graced the flames, it consumed him.
The dark fire latched itself onto Adrian's finger, and he jumped back, flailing his arms before jumping into the river.
Yet the fire did not quench. Instead, to his horror, the fire circled around his arm, climbing up to his head before digging into his ears.
"AHHHHHHH!" Adrian screamed as he was overcome by intense pain, his hands vibrated by his sides, and his heart beat quickened.
And the knowledge began to flow, information he had never known permeating his head.
—Relic: Spirit Seeker.
—Abilities
~Death Whisperer:
Death calls out and you listen, the spirits speak and you lend them an ear, unshaken, unfettered, unmoved.
~Death Singer:
Spirits hear your voice, a melodious tune that causes them to rise, a lure, a trap, bait. They rise at your call, yet you are not their master, not until they rest in the bosom of your soul.
~Spirit Herder:
Like a true leader, like a king, like a monarch. You lead them, you raise them, you nurture them.
Instinctively, he knew three things.
First, he could hear the voice of spirits.
Second, he could summon spirits.
And third, he could store them in his soul—advance them as well as command them.
Ring!
There was a slight tingling sound in his ears, his body numb with pain as he managed to rise up from the shallow river and stumble to the ground.
The tingling sound slowly left, and all that was left was enlightenment.
In front of him, a black pocket watch with an intricate design floated in the air. The dial was off-white, and below it was a tab, with a counter that read:
[0/100]
The pocket watch was Spirit Seeker…
He had received a soul-bound relic.
Now everything made sense.
Adrian sat on the grass to assess the situation.
He understood how it was possible to have gotten one, yet it made no sense.
Because the emotion he had felt the most was rage…
Soul-bound relics were said to be gifts from the gods to contain explosive emotions which could have been otherwise harmful.
Hate, joy, sorrow, satisfaction…
Anything in excess could have terrible results, hence their intervention.
But never had anyone received an artifact born out of rage; it was said to be forbidden by the gods.
Yet only the gods could hand out an artifact such as this.
'What does this mean?'
He crawled closer to the river and doused himself in more water.
The relic could easily explain the surge of information.
Since there was no manual and each relic was unique, relic users often underwent a process called synching.
That was what had happened.
It also explained his seething rage that had settled, sinking deep within his heart. No, the relic was his rage.
'That makes more sense…'
Some relic users also spoke of strange changes after obtaining their relic.
Although it was quite a stretch, Adrian could assume it had caused his change in appearance.
But his miraculous survival and appearing wherever the hell this is?
He had no clue.
Still…
Adrian rose to his feet and breathed out a quiet laugh.
"With this power, I will finish what they started."
In his last life, he had fought tooth and nail, and yet he died without laying a scratch on the King's guard.
But in this life? He would grow stronger, he would ascend until no one could stand in his way, and then when he was done…
"I will slay the king."
He glanced up at the sky to determine the position of the sun before he began walking south.
"I guess I'll need a new name…"
He thought for a moment and then it clicked in his head.
"Stark, yes, Stark would do just right."
And then the whispers began.
• • • •
The forest went past Stark in a blur, the world a blur of brown and green as he raced through the forest, the leaves crunching under every step.
He was breathing fast, his heart thundering in his ears and his limbs on fire.
He was being chased by a group of terrible spirits.
Whatever god had picked this forest for him to start in either wanted him dead or sorely overestimated his abilities.
It took only a few minutes of walking for him to realise where he was…
The Southern Pine Forest was its official name, but its more popular name? The Evil Forest.
And they did not call it evil for no reason.
It was a place filled with some of the most disturbing monsters and dreadful spirits.
On a good day, he could have collected those spirits, but his artifact was not all powerful.
He pulled the information he needed from his mind and clenched his jaw.
If he wanted to forcefully herd spirits, he would need to be more powerful than them, or at least on the same level.
Other than that, he needed to either make a deal or defeat the spirits or their original body in combat.
How the fuck would he reason with banshees? And fighting them—
BOOM!
An ear piercing wail shot past Stark, blasting the tree by his side to splinters.
He shielded his face with his hands as the shattered wood bounced against him, never stopping his run.
Yeah, fighting them was out of the question.
He had just been reborn and had no plans of dying soon.
Countless whispers of spirits followed him as he ran without direction.
"Is that a spirit medium?" came a cheeky voice just as he blazed past.
"Hehe, the boy has guts walking into a place like this. He won't make it past evening." The voice showed signs of age, matured and rich in tempo.
"Someone should call the dryads before that boy gets impaled." This time, it was a gentle, motherly voice.
Stark gritted his teeth, there was a large log in his path, and so he pushed his strength to his legs and leaped over it without a thought.
And then his eyes widened...
He had jumped, thinking it was a simple obstruction, but in front of him was a valley that spanned several meters.
Stark fell right in, plummeting into the valley below.