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Immortality is born from negligence.

Aron of Lostville lived his peaceful life in a remote village, farming on his family land as did most of the common folks of Astral. One day, an undead stampede was spotted on the edges of the mountains. The village filed a protection request to the kingdom, calling for help. After several weeks, no help was sent, and the village got overrun by the undead. Aros was one of the only few survivors who managed to get away in time. "Monsters aren't to blame. Those undead aren't intelligent." Aron growled, "Those nobles. They are the ones at fault." He looked at the sky. ******** Hello, we're following the villain this time. Of course, as you can see from the tags, he's immortal. How he got that will occur in the first chapters, so please give them a read.

Alen_Tanor · Fantasía
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8 Chs

Parasites

Thud! Aron collapse right after entering the church as a bunch of nuns surrounded him, pinching their noses. "Oh, God! He reeks," One of them cried, as the nun he knows looked from the kitchen door.

"Aron?" She gasped, rushing toward him.

"Sister Mary, isn't this the man you cooked for yesterday?" One of the sisters stared at her.

"It's him. What's happened to him?" Mary kneeled beside him, seeing the skin beneath his neck turning blue. "Don't tell me he's poisoned?" She gasped, carrying him and running back to the caring quarter.

"Head priest! Head priest!" She shouted, and the man came rushing down, "Sister Mary," He opened the door, seeing Aron on the bed, gasping for air.

"Dehydrated and ashen," The head priest growled, "He can't breath well, and something is sucking water out of his body," He stared down, "He drank something bad,"

"What should we do?" Sister Mary stared at him.

"Healing magic won't help. Make a lot of purple haze flower tea and force him to drink it. That should replenish his water and clear any toxin from his stomach," The Head priest walked toward the closet and pulled a green crystal, "Bring me a rag,"

Sister Mary panicked between getting the rag or rushing to make the tea. The priest immediately noticed her and said in a calm voice, "Sorry, go make the tea. I will take care of him." He rushed back and brought the first rag he could find.

The priest tied the rag around Aron's nose and strapped it to his head with the rag. "Those should help you breathe better air. Soon, and in the name of god, you shall feel better."

***

Aron opened his eyes the next day, seeing Mary asleep beside him. "What happened?" He gasped, feeling a severe headache throbbing beneath his skull.

"What did you eat?" Aron heard a voice calling him from the corner of the room. He quickly looked and saw the head priest curled there, his eyes black from exhaustion.

"What?" Aron gasped, confused due to the pain.

"I asked what you ate," The head priest pointed at a bucked beside the bed. A long white worm lay dead inside. "This thing came out of your back end. It almost ate you from the inside out,"

Aron blinked twice, glaring at the worm, terrified.

"I only drank water from a stream in the forest," He replied.

The head priest sighed, "Please don't do that again. You might end up dead. At least boil the water, or speak the god's name over it with a purification spell."

***

Later that day, when Aron recovered enough to walk, he stood to leave the church. "Aron," Mary approached him. "Please be more careful,"

"Sorry about yesterday," He looked down.

"Don't worry about it," She smiled, patting him on the shoulder. "Do your best, and remember, there is no reason to push yourself beyond your limits."

As Aron approached the church door, a knight kicked it open and walked inside, "Where is sir Harlon! Sir Harlon!" He shouted at the top of his lungs.

The head priest, Harlon, rushed out with a smile, "Isn't it, sir Arnold, what brought you here today?"

The knight stared at Harlon with his chest puffed out, "I'm here on orders from the lord. Collect the month's taxes from the church,"

Harlon blinked twice, "It's still weak off. Am I wrong?"

The knight shook his head, "You're not wrong, but the lord wants it early this month. I don't know why. But I'm carrying orders."

Harlon scratched his chin, "Now that's troubling," He looked back, "I already allocated most of the donations to curing Lostville refugees. I don't have much to pay up with right now."

The knight scratched his head, "I also can't just return to the lord with nothing,"

"How much is it?" Aron looked at Harlon, wondering why the church is even paying taxes.

"Up to this week, we got eleven gold and three silver coins from donations." He thought about it.

"That would make your taxes four gold coins, one silver, and twenty coppers." The knight quickly calculated it.

Aron stood silent for a moment, "Wait! A whole four-tenths?" He gasped, unable to believe his ears, "This is a church!"

The knight shook his hands, looking down, "Not much that we can do about it. The lord runs the place. Everyone lives by his rules." He believed it was absurd. "A church is a place to donate money to, not take from." He sighed.

Aron grunted, walking toward the door, "This is absurd."

Harlon looked down, "Aron, don't worry about it. I can manage it without problems," He smiled, looking at the knight, "Please follow me inside,"

***

Aron left back to the guild, thinking about what he just heard. ^Parasites, like worms,^ Whenever the lord's name crossed his mind, he could only picture the worm in the bucket beside his bed, grossing him out.

"Aron! Are you okay?" He heard a man call him out, and before he notice, he was standing inside the guild. "You look exhausted. Did something happen?"

Aron shook his head, "Nothing," and approached the quest board, picking a herb-gathering quest.

"Aron," The guild girl from yesterday approached him. "You ran out yesterday before I could speak to you, but did you level up?" She smiled.

"Why would I?" Aron looked at her, confused.

"You killed a lot of goblins. That must have given you enough experience to level up. You better look at your stats." She dragged him back to the desk and gave him a wooden plank to touch.

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[Level 2] [Exp: 4/20]

[Choose one skill]

[Swordsmanship] [Herbalist] [Runner]

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Aron gasped, a smile crossing his face. "You were right!"

The guild gives a smile. "Congratulation, which skill do you choose?"

^I need something to make it easier to start fighting monsters since I will be taking those quests soon.^ He picked the first skill.

[Swordsmanship] is learned.

Aron looked at his stats again on the plank, smiling from ear to ear.

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[Name: Aron of Lostville]

[Level 2] [Exp: 4/20]

[Class: Tamer]

{Skills}

[Tame Monster] [Level 1] [S-Exp: 0/10]

[Swordsmanship] [Level 1] [S-Exp: 0/10]

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The next Chapter, it's beginning.

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