Rise Of The Undead King

Chapter 9

Marcus walked away from Elena even though she called after him, this time with a sense of frustration.

"Wait! You can't just leave me here!" Her voice followed him through the twisted trees, no longer carrying that cold and distant edge she always had around lower ranked hunters.

He kept walking. From the past, he had learned not to carry people that didn't want to be carried. She had made her position clear back in the forest when she snorted at his class and told him he couldn't even help himself with his weak ability.

Her voice eventually faded behind him as the dark fog swallowed the distance between them.

His next stop was the awakening academy.

Even though he had awakened a low class, he was still entitled to school there. Since they were 4 in the country, he decided to go for the least that Jessica and his half brother might choose.

Henry had awakened an A ranked combat class with that golden grade serum that cost a fortune more than average household earnings for ten years. He would aim straight for the most prestigious academy, where guild masters rushed forward like little children scrambling over candy. Jessica would follow him there like she always did, shifting herself toward wherever the most power and status happened to be standing.

Marcus wanted nothing to do with either of them. 

As much as he wanted to train alone, the Academy would have everything that he needed to train and learn more about his skill including old archives and training equipment.

He knew nothing about beast crystals or class evolution mechanics. His parents had kept him away from everything valuable, barely allowing him at their tables while he had to live on their leftovers. The academy had libraries filled with information about shadow beasts and undead creatures, training equipment he could never afford on his own.

He needed to understand his Mortician class completely before he was ready to face them again.

When he got to the school, he could see the stares of irritation, the gossips and the mockery that trailed at him from behind.

The reaction was immediate. Students standing near the entrance turned their heads as he walked through the gates, their conversations dying before erupting into something quieter and more pointed.

Everyone had heard about what happened and were laughing at him, not even minding if he heard.

"Is that him? The E ranked Mortician from the Cave family?" someone whispered from a cluster of fighters near the training yard.

"The one who got disowned right on stage? What is he even doing here?" another voice added, not bothering to lower their tone.

"Should have stayed in whatever hole his father threw him into. What a waste of academy resources."

Marcus kept his face beyond stale. He had been hearing the same words since he turned 6, after the death of his mother. These academy students weren't saying anything his own family hadn't already screamed at him.

He arrived at the registration desk and started filling his form.

The building was wide and busy, filled with long wooden tables and lines of students clutching paperwork. Marcus picked up a blank form and moved to an empty station, his pen moving steadily across the paper.

The worker looks at him with disdain, whispered into the air "You know you're better off as a farmer or something right? Basically you looking forward to your death been here."

The man behind the desk was broad-shouldered with a face that had settled permanently into irritation. He leaned forward to peer at Marcus's form, and the moment his eyes landed on "E ranked Mortician," his lip curled like he had stepped in something rotten.

"Seriously, kid," the worker continued, his voice loud enough for other people in line to hear. "An E ranked Mortician in a combat academy? What exactly are you planning to study here? How to prepare your own funeral?"

A few students behind Marcus chuckled quietly.

At first, Marcus wanted to ignore him as he had done everyone, but the man would not stop talking, distracting him.

"If I were in your position, I'd save myself the humiliation and just go home," the worker pressed, clearly enjoying the attention from nearby students. "The dropout rate for E ranked classes here is nearly one hundred percent. You'll be gone within a week."

His voice got louder with each sentence, drawing more stares from the registration hall. Other workers glanced over with amused expressions, and the students in line began whispering amongst themselves.

"I mean, look at your stats. E ranked Mortician. That's not even a real combat class. What are you going to do when a shadow beast charges you? Ask it politely to lie down so you can measure it for a coffin?"

The laughter behind Marcus got louder. Every word was another irritation piling itself on top of all the others that had spent years telling him exactly what he was worth.

Marcus set down his pen.

He looked up slowly, his eyes carrying that same impossible calm that had frustrated Elena in the clearing. He held the man's gaze for a long moment without speaking, long enough for the laughter nearby to quiet slightly.

Marcus finally responded, "Just the same way you would be better off with your mouth shut."

The man is stunned and then his astonishment melts into anger.

The worker's face went completely stale. His pen stopped tapping against the desk. The students who had been enjoying the show shifted uncomfortably as they realized the E ranked nobody had just spoken back.

Then his shock twisted into something darker. His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as raw fury made his hands tremble.

He growled, pushing himself forward in his chair and slamming his palms flat against the registration desk.

"What did you just say to me, you piece of—"

Then commotion broke outside.

The heavy wooden doors burst open, and cheers erupted from somewhere near the main entrance, rolling through the building with the same energy that had filled the awakening ceremony when Henry's A ranked class was announced.

Marcus heard cheers, he turned and his eyes met with his half brother and ex and their gaze crossed paths.

Henry Cave walked through the academy entrance like he owned every stone in the building, guild representatives and senior students parting around him. That familiar smirk was carved into his face, settled there permanently.

And right beside him, her hand wrapped around his arm, was Jessica.

Her eyes found Marcus at the exact same moment his found hers. For one heartbeat, something flickered across her face before it was gone, replaced by that same flat indifference as she pressed herself closer to Henry's side.

Henry's smirk grew wider when he saw Marcus standing at the registration desk in his worn clothes, surrounded by the same mockery and disdain that had followed him his entire life.

Marcus held his half brother's gaze without flinching, anger filtering through his veins as he realized they hadn't gone to the prestigious First Academy after all. They had come here. To his academy. To the place he had chosen specifically to avoid them.

Their gazes crossed paths across the crowded registration hall.