The Reincarnated Overlord: Vengeance in the Eternal Abyss

Chapter 7: The Road to Redemption

Chapter 7: The Road to Redemption  

The mist of the morning blended thickly over the Ashen Wilds, curling around the trees blackened from the fire like silent ghosts. Kael moved with quiet determination, pretty headway despite the unease that creeps through. With each breath he poured in ash and decay, a jarring thousand reminders of how the world shifted since his fall.

Malek walked a pace or two ahead. His staff sounded clipped rhythms in the cracked earth. A refreshing sensation of the hermit sage silence was something not of the ordinary, a break rare in that endless whispers of the sigil burned beneath Kael's skin.

"So," Kael started, finally breaking the quiet with his voice. "What happens now?" 

Malek did not even bother facing him, but his mighty stride continued. "Now? You walk." 

Kael rolled his eyes. "And then?" 

"And then," said Malek, glancing back with a wry smile, "you learn patience." 

Kael sighed. Patience. The word burned his tongue. He had spent many years building his empire and had risen from nothing to rule kingdoms with an iron fist. He had been feared, respected- then it all came crashing down in a single night. And now he was expected to just 'walk'? 

Malek must have picked that idea up quickly. He slowed his pace just a fraction. "I know the thoughts furrowing your brow," said he. "You feel that power is in the rush, making a road through everything in your way." 

Kael grinned. "It worked before." 

Malek chuckled dryly. "And look at where it has brought you." 

Kael's smile faded. The old man was right. Impatience led him to rely upon the wrong people. Failed to heed warnings until it was too late and things had gone seriously awry. He was no longer that man, but the thirst for power still gnawed inside him. 

"Patience does not win wars," muttered Kael. 

"No," agreed Malek. "But it will keep you alive long enough to fight them." 

Kael said nothing, letting the words settle. The sigil pulsed faintly beneath his shirt, reminding him of the power he carried—and the cost of wielding it recklessly.  

The path wound through the dense, skeletal remains of trees until it opened up into a clearing. In the center stood a lone figure, his presence sharp against the muted backdrop of the Wilds.  

Kael’s instincts flared immediately. The man was tall, clad in dark leather armor, with a sword strapped across his back. His face was concealed beneath a hood, but the predatory way he stood told Kael everything he needed to know.  

“Trouble?” Kael asked under his breath, his hand drifting toward his dagger.  

“Depends,” Malek said, his voice calm but laced with warning. “On how stupid you decide to be.”  

The hooded man stepped forward, his voice rough like gravel. “You’re trespassing.”  

Kael met his gaze head-on. “Didn’t see any signs.”  

The man’s lips curled into something between a sneer and a smirk. “The Ashen Wilds don’t need signs. You should turn back.”  

Kael felt the weight of the dagger at his side, the sigil thrumming in anticipation beneath his skin. He had no intention of backing down, but Malek placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.  

“We’re just passing through,” Malek said evenly. “No trouble.”  

The man’s eyes flicked to Malek, studying him. “This place doesn’t take kindly to strangers.”  

Kael smirked. “Neither do I.”  

A tense silence stretched between them. Kael could feel the heat rising in his chest, the Abyss stirring as if hungry for conflict. His fingers twitched, itching to summon his power, to remind this fool who he was dealing with.  

But Malek’s grip on his shoulder tightened ever so slightly.  

“Easy,” the old man muttered.  

After a long pause, the hooded figure stepped aside, gesturing toward the path. “Keep walking. Don’t make me regret letting you.”  

Kael’s jaw tightened, but he nodded once, stepping forward without another word. Malek followed, his staff clicking against the ground in steady rhythm.  

As they passed, Kael heard the man mutter under his breath. “Dead men walking.”  

Kael smirked. 'We’ll see about that.'

Hours later, when they were well beyond the clearing, Malek finally spoke. “You were going to fight him.”  

Kael shrugged. “If he pushed me.”  

Malek shook his head. “You still think power is about proving something.”  

“Isn’t it?”  

“No,” Malek said simply. “It’s about knowing when to use it. And when not to.”  

Kael didn’t respond right away. He knew Malek was right, but the hunger for retribution gnawed at him constantly. He didn’t just want to survive—he wanted to reclaim everything that had been stolen from him.  

“Why did you stop me?” Kael asked after a while.

“Because you are not ready,” came Malek's from behind a big sigh.  

Kael cast him a sidelong glance. "I handled your little tests just fine."  

"Only just, because you're learning control. You're still letting too much of the Abyss whisper in your ear. That hunger you feel? It's not just yours."  

Kael frowned, his hand was unthinkingly wandering towards his chest. "What are you on about?"  

"Power isn't all there is to the Abyss," said Malek now quieter, almost cautious. "It seduces. There will come a point when it has twisted your desires so duaciously that you won't even be able to discern what you would attribute to it and what you would attribute to yourself."  

Kael's footsteps slackened. He had felt that, the muffled churn of his thoughts, the rising allure of violence, of (becoming) king. Could it even be ambition... or something darker making such whispers from deep down?  

"Then how am I supposed to stop it?"  

Malek stopped walking and turned toward him, eyes suddenly serious. "You don't."  

Kael's fists tightened. "That isn't strictly encouraging."  

Malek gave a grim smile. "Power always comes with a price, it's for you to decide whether it's too much."  

Kael turned his gaze away, mind racing. He would always pay any price for power, but this... this was not the same. The Abyss was not something he could simply wield like a weapon-it was alive, demanding quite a lot more than he might be willing to offer.  

Doubt crept into his mind for the first time in ages.  

And Kael Ardentis didn't like doubt.  

With twilight finally falling, they reached the edge of the Wilds. Beyond the trees lay undulating ground specked with silver moonlight. In the distance, Kael could see the innumerable bright lights of a village.  

Malek's hand indicated towards it. "There's your new step."  

Kael's gaze remained on the lights, stubborn as an electrified lion. "And what about you?"

Malek smirked. “I’ve done my part. The rest is yours.”  

Kael nodded slowly, his resolve hardening once more. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it. The Abyss may have its whispers, but Kael had his own voice.  

And it was time the world heard it again.