Chapter 4

Aamash settled onto the bed in his new room, noting the poor quality wood used for its construction. It brought back memories of his childhood—a room tucked away at the back of the house, cloaked in darkness compared to the other rooms, creating a gloomy atmosphere. He rummaged through the drawers and stumbled upon a crayon drawing. The artwork portrayed two figures with a child, one wearing a straw hat resembling a scarecrow. A shiver ran down Aamash's spine as he returned the drawing to its original place. He knew that the trial would begin immediately once he made contact with Grimore. With a deep breath, Aamash mentally prepared himself, fully aware that the fate of the Kingdom of Navar rested on a child's shoulders.

Without delay, Aamash left the room and descended the stairs, searching for Grimore. However, he only finds Grandpa, who is deeply engrossed in studying blueprints. Startled by Aamash's sudden appearance, Grandpa jumped and clutched his chest, catching his breath.

"Oh my god, don't scare me like that! You'll give me a heart attack," Grandpa exclaimed, slightly irritated.

"You and Grimore move as quietly as mice, quieter than a starving rat looking for food," Aamash awkwardly smiled.

"If you're looking for the boy, he's out in the fields harvesting wheat," Grandpa informed Aamash before returning his attention to the blueprints. Aamash nodded and headed towards the front door. However, before leaving, he glanced back at Grandpa, who was still absorbed in his papers.

"By the way, sir, what is your name? How should I address you?" Aamash asked curiously.

"Just call me sir or old man. I've grown too old to remember my name," Grandpa replied nonchalantly, waving Aamash away. Aamash thought nothing more of it and exited the house, searching for Grimore.

As Aamash wandered through the vast fields of tall wheat, the shining sunbathed his fair skin, momentarily blinding him. It didn't take long for the faint sound of a blade slicing through the air to reach his ears—a sound he recognized all too well. Peering through a bundle of tall wheat, Aamash spotted Grimore wielding a scythe. His form was slightly crouched, muscles relaxed, eyes closed, and breath barely audible. Grimore executed a mighty swing in a split second, effortlessly cutting down a bundle of wheat. Aamash observed the technique, impressed by the precision and control displayed by a boy with little to no battle experience. This single swing resembled an air slash—a move even seasoned veterans struggled to master. And yet, Grimore had performed it on a larger scale, using a farming tool. Grimore removed his straw hat, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Aamash emerged from the wheat bundle, walking towards the fallen wheat Grimore had cut down while Grimore watched him curiously.

"So, you were watching? I guess I'm quite impressive, huh?" Grimore smirked and struck a peculiar pose, but Aamash didn't respond directly. Instead, he picked up a piece of tall wheat and examined it. Grimore examines Aamash's soft expression while he inspects the grain stake.

"Do you know why these wheat stalks grow so tall?" Aamash asked. Grimore shook his head as he stabbed the ground with the scythe's blade and joined Aamash by the fallen wheat, starting to stack them. 

"Farmers use special techniques and water from the elves' Fountain of Prosperity to create a unique bone meal that accelerates crop growth, making them larger and taller. However, if they were to delay the harvest even by a day, the crops wither and turn the surrounding soil into ash," Aamash explained.

"A high-risk, high-reward approach to farming?" Grimore asked, but his question was countered by another from Aamash.

"And how long have you been doing this on your own?"

"Only recently. Grandpa has fallen ill, so I've taken on more responsibility," Grimore replied. Intrigued by the boy, Aamash joined him in stacking the wheat. Hours passed, and soon, they found themselves surrounded by others atop a massive stack of grain. Aamash recounted stories of life in the kingdom and the great challenges they had overcome. Grimore listened attentively, following along and admiring the heroic tales of Navar.

"It was spectacular to see King Arthur stand beside the world's strongest rulers. The queen of elves, the king of the Sakurai kingdom, the newly reborn hero Sephrim, and his friends all stood by his side in the battle against the false demon king." Aamash looked up at the sunset, reminiscing. 

"The hero was originally supposed to be the heir to the king, but he disappeared after an incident after the battle with the false demon king. You are our only hope against all the evils that stand against humanity. It's dreadful to put a child in a position that should be filled by someone older, but it is the only option we have." Aamash explained. A moment of silence was brought between the two.

"How did you manage to find me? Have you heard the dreadful rumors about 'Grimore the Horrible'?" Grimore jokes, making them both chuckle. 

"No, I simply asked the Grandmaster to create a device that could locate anyone with the late king's bloodline." Aamash retrieved the device from his pouch and showed it to Grimore. Fascinated by its design, Grimore wore a puzzled expression.

"But there's more than one crystal. These ruby-like ones represent individuals with the king's— I mean, the late king's blood..." Aamash smiled at Grimore's self-correction.

"Does this mean I have nine more siblings?" Before Aamash could answer, Grandpa called out to them, summoning them for lunch.

"When you become king, you can order us to investigate further," Grimore said excitedly at the possibility of having siblings and becoming a king. They both entered the house for lunch. Grimore quickly finished his meal and hurried back outside while Aamash and Grandpa sat quietly at the table. Grandpa sipped his tea, and Aamash ate his sandwich with a fork and knife.

"So, what do you think of the boy? You seemed quite friendly before I interrupted," Grandpa finally broke the silence. Aamash placed his utensils down, wiped his mouth with a cloth, and began to speak.

"He's still a child at heart—curious and thirsty for knowledge. Perfect for being a vessel, but not quite ready to be a ruler. However, worry not. I'm confident he will become a great king." Grandpa nodded in approval as he sipped his tea. But Aamash had more to share.

"On my way here, I encountered several corpses in the forest en route to the nearby trade center. I took the time to bury them and say a prayer. But something was peculiar about those bodies. No bruises or cuts; it seemed like they died of natural causes... yet it was far from natural. Each body had a handprint on its chest like an otherworldly entity had reached in and squeezed their hearts until they stopped beating." Aamash stood up, pushing his chair aside, while Grandpa remained silent.

Aamash left searching for Grimore as the sun began to set, but he was nowhere to be found. Hours passed, and the sun sank below the horizon. Aamash walked to the doors of a dilapidated barn. Opening them, he discovered the entire structure filled with exhausted bulls lying down. Aamash heard the sound of chewing and focused his attention in that direction. At the end of the barn, where darkness prevailed, Grimore sat, eating an apple while his scythe leaned against the wall beside him. Aamash was astonished by the sight and carefully maneuvered through the lying bulls to approach Grimore. However, upon reaching him, Aamash noticed something peculiar. Grimore was fast asleep. Aamash smiled and picked him up gently.

"Get plenty of rest, Your Majesty. Tomorrow, you will face many challenges," Aamash whispered as he carried Grimore back to his bedroom.

Meanwhile, at the Kingdom of Navar, once beautiful streets and buildings now lay engulfed in flames. The soldiers, hiding within the structures, attempted to regroup, but monstrous figures constantly thwarted their efforts. Ash stood at the gate of the inner kingdom, accompanied by the kingdom's finest warriors. Emerging from the flames, an army of tall, monstrous beings advanced toward the gate. They resembled decomposing corpses with mutated limbs and towering heights. A barrier formed around the inner kingdom, leaving Ash and his squad on the outside. Brandishing their weapons, Ash and his warriors prepared to face the approaching threat.

"They didn't teach you fear in hell. Allow me to teach you, you undead scum," Ash declared, locking eyes with the approaching monsters. With weapons at the ready, they braced themselves for the impending battle.