The Reincarnated Overlord: Vengeance in the Eternal Abyss

Chapter 11: A Village on the Brink

Chapter 11: A Village on the Brink

The walk back to Blackmere was silent, but the air between Kael and Malek was thick with unspoken tension. The sigil on Kael’s chest still pulsed faintly, a reminder of the dark encounter at the shrine. The whispers lingered at the edge of his mind, faint and distant but persistent, like shadows that refused to fade.  

He pushed them aside.  

The village came into view, its flickering lanterns struggling against the encroaching darkness. Even from a distance, Kael could feel the fear hanging over the settlement like a storm cloud. The people here were afraid—of what, he intended to find out.  

Malek broke the silence first. “So, what did you see?”  

Kael’s jaw tightened. “Enough.”  

Malek grunted. “That’s not exactly comforting.”  

Kael didn’t respond. He was still processing what had happened. The vision. The doppelganger. The challenge. The Abyss wasn't just testing him, but really toying with him. Probing his resolve. Yet a part of him welcomed it. 

A sudden hush came over the diffused village folk as they stepped within the village square. Their eyes strayed towards them, fearful and uncertain, knowing something was coming. They could feel it. 

Kael spotted the bartender from standing outside the tavern, grim as usual. He approached without hesitation. 

"You didn't tell me the corruption has spread to the village," he said with a sharp tone. 

The barkeep rubbed his neck and didn't look him in the eye. "We didn't know for sure down there." 

Kael narrowed his eyes, "You knew enough." 

There was a stiff murmur among the nearby villagers. One of them-a middle-aged woman with gray streaks in her hair stepped forward. "Joren...will he pull through?" Her countenance betrayed a quivering voice filled with concern. 

Kael faltered. He had seen the signs of corruption. The black tendrils that seeped into the hunter's wounds were more than wounds; they were anchors tying him to something much worse than death.

“He’s fighting,” Kael said finally. “But he’s not out of danger.”  

The woman’s face crumpled, and she turned away, holding back tears.  

Malek sighed. “This whole place is hanging by a thread.”  

Kael scanned the faces around him. Fear. Desperation. And more than that—resignation. They were already going to decide that they were going to be doomed.  

He wouldn’t accept that.  

“Listen to me,” Kael said, cutting through the silence with his voice. “The darkness is ever spreading in the forest, and if you think that it would not reach your doorsteps, then you are quite wrong.” He allowed himself a pause, however, to let his words sink deep before he continued. “But you are not hopeless.”  

A husky man with a thick beard snorted. “What should we do? Pray?”  

Kael came forward and fixed his blood-red gaze onto that person. “Fight.”  

A ripple of murmurs filled with undecided uncertainties flowed into the people gathered.  

The bearded man shook his head. “We don't have the numbers, nor the weapons.”  

Kael's lips curled into a sharp smile. "You don't need numbers. You need resolve." He turned to Malek. "Show them."  

The old hermit rolled his eyes but raised his staff. With a flick of his wrist, runes flared to life along its length, casting a soft golden glow over the square. A barrier shimmered briefly around the tavern before fading.

The villagers gasped in awe.  

Malek smirked. “There’s more to survival than swinging a sword, friend.”  

Kael took advantage of their stunned silence. “We’ll protect this village,” he said, his voice steady. “But we need your help. I need to know everything—every strange occurrence, every disappearance, anything that might help us stop this before it’s too late.”  

For a long moment, no one spoke. Then, slowly, the barkeep nodded. “There’s an old man,” he said quietly. “Lives on the edge of town. Says he’s seen things... things in the woods.”  

Kael exchanged a glance with Malek. “Where?”  

“North end, near the abandoned mill.”  

Kael nodded. “We’ll start there.”

The north end of Blackmere was even quieter than the village square. The homes here were smaller, more isolated, with crooked fences and sagging roofs. The abandoned mill stood like a skeletal giant against the backdrop of the forest, its wooden beams creaking softly in the wind.  

Kael knocked on the door of a small, dilapidated house nearby. It opened with a groan, revealing an elderly man with a hunched frame and wild eyes.  

“I knew someone would come,” the man said, his voice hoarse and brittle. “The shadows are getting bolder.”  

Kael stepped inside without invitation. “Tell me what you’ve seen.”  

The old man shuffled back, his gnarled fingers trembling as he pointed to the forest. “They come at night. Whispering... scratching at the walls. They take people, but it’s not just the forest anymore.” His eyes darted toward Kael, locking onto his chest. “You carry it too.”  

Kael’s hand instinctively moved to the sigil beneath his cloak. “What do you know about it?”  

The old man’s lips trembled. “It’s a beacon. The darkness knows you.” He leaned in closer. “And it wants you back.”  

Kael’s stomach tightened. He already knew this, but hearing it spoken aloud sent a cold shiver down his spine.  

Malek crossed his arms. “Have you seen where they’re taking the people?”  

The old man nodded frantically. “Yes... yes. The ruined chapel. Deep in the woods.” He grabbed Kael’s arm, his grip surprisingly strong. “You can’t go there.”  

Kael pried his hand away gently but firmly. “I’m going.”  

The old man shook his head, fear stark in his expression. “You don’t understand. The chapel... it’s a door. Once it’s fully opened, nothing will stop it.”  

Kael’s jaw tightened. “Then we’ll shut it.”  

The old man stared at him for a long moment before exhaling shakily. “Gods help you.”

Back outside, Malek regarded Kael with a critical eye. “You really intend to walk into this mess?”  

Kael smirked. “Have you met me?”  

Malek groaned. “I was hoping you’d outgrow the suicidal tendencies.”  

Kael’s expression darkened. “I don’t have that luxury.”  

He glanced toward the forest, the dark silhouette of trees swaying ominously in the night breeze. The ruined chapel was waiting, and whatever lurked inside it was getting stronger.  

Kael flexed his fingers, feeling the hum of power beneath his skin.  

The time for patience was over.