Reborn As A Ghost: Time To Build My Undead Army!

Chapter 265: The Four Horsemen


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Shadows suddenly converged in front of the Progenitor, taking the shape of a man covered in black robes.

"My lord, things are prepared. The Horsemen have arrived through the Teleportation devises. Shall we prepare a feast for all four of you?" Wondered his servant.

"No, I don't have appetite." The Progenitor man spoke with a cold voice, suddenly turning into a mass of bats that flew across his enormous castle, in seconds, he emerged before three figures sitting around a rectangular table. They were accompanied by three other figures, their most trusted retainers.

The three figures looked simple at first sight, but at closer inspection, their very auras emanated enormously strong presences that would easily frighten somebody to death. Their distinctive crimson red eyes and skin as pale as candle wax was quite frightening. They resembled living corpses that had suddenly moved out of their graveyards and sat down here. The Progenitor was no exception to this rule.

These three powerful figures were the last three Horsemen of the Apocalypse, two men and another woman. Their appearances were barely discernable as they were shrouded in shadows and their own Blood Auras.

"I am glad you've all come. A you may already have guessed, Agatha died a few hours ago." The progenitor spoke.

"We know. Just what happened there?" A slightly silent, serious, and overly cold voice spoke first. One of the two males that were part of the last three Horsemen of the Apocalypse, a man whose entire face was being protected by a mask with the shape of a skull.

"She was killed by a band of mercenaries employed by the Duchess of the Fiefdom of Affnaria…" The Progenitor promptly said. The other three Vampires and their retainers felt slightly surprised based in their reactions.

"What?! A band of mercs just killed our Agatha?! Are you sure, my lord?!" Roared back the second male. Unlike the first one, his energetic and loud voice was very contrasting from the other man. He wore a red-colored mask with the shape of a furious demon. His body was twice as tall as the Progenitor himself, and he was covered in muscles despite Vampires being known to be skinny.

"Agatha… She was the youngest of the three of us and also the weakest, and she was also very childish… I wish we could had taught her to be more cautious." Muttered the third of them, a woman with a serious and dignified voice. She had long blonde hair, but her face was being covered by another mask, that of a benevolent-looking man with a golden mustache and a golden crown, a king.

"Bastards! Milord, tell me where they are! I am going to go and tear them all apart into pieces! I won't forgive them! Agatha must be avenged!!!" The tallest man roared, hitting the table as his fury was clear in his eyes beneath his demonic mask, the light of his eyes flashing brightly.

"Likewise. If we all join together, even someone that defeated her should have no hope of winning." The second and skinnier man spoke. His cold voice filled with ruthlessness and conviction.

"I also agree…" Said the woman, seemingly saddened by Agatha's passing.

"…No, fools." Sighed the Progenitor. "This is exactly what those bastards want. To separate our family and bring us down. If you all end up going out, what about each of our facilities? And all the effort we have spent building our underworld empire? We have reached so far already, do you want to throw everything into the trash now and recklessly charge against a foe that has proven to be out of the ordinary?!"

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The Progenitor furiously roared back at his dogs, as they calmed down their fury, and remained in silence while lowering their heads. Although Vampires were ruthless and often treated even their own kin harshly, those that knew each other for many years would build eventually relationships. Usually, the bullying was directed to newbies, which became these bloodsucker's playthings until some of them survived long enough to be actually considered part of the family.

Between the Progenitor and the four Horsemen, alongside the Horsemen closest retainers, there was a strong bond, and above all, an incredible sense of pride about their family, which has struggled and survived over many years since he fall of the Demon King.

"We have only been able to survive this long because we have kept together with one another. Alone, we cannot fight against the accursed humans, but together, we can slowly advance and seep our venom into their society. Slowly biting away their flesh and drinking their blood.

We have ben doing this for a long time since the Demon King's death. I always knew his ideals would amount to nothing before the ruthlessness of these monsters. The only path to our victory would be by becoming ruthless ourselves and exterminate them."

The Progenitor spoke words that were conceived as wise by his family, the Horsemen remained in silence, until they were allowed to speak when he finished.

"I know that, my lord." Sighed the woman. "However, what do we do now then? Should we simply let this be and that's it? Don't you feel any remorse for Agatha's death, when you himself raised her and made her into the powerful warrior she became?"

"Certainly I did. I've always been worried about her childishness… This is why I gave her the power to revive into a new and power entity if she ever were to die, but even that didn't seem to work against this powerful foe… This woman, the same woman we once plotted her death and that of her family so the royal family could finally acquire the Fragment of the Evil god… She was there, she killed Agatha." The Progenitor spoke. The other Vampires gasped in surprise, without an exception.

"Y-You mean…?!" Asked the tall male vampire.

"It can't be… Has that ghost grown so strong in this little time?!" The skinny man couldn't help but ask.

"She's… Maria Fuentes Belles, the Witch of Misfortune, isn't it?" The woman asked.

"Indeed… This woman… Since her resurrection as a ghost, that she had only been trying to ruin our plans!" The Vampire Progenitor roared in frustration, hitting the table.

BAAM!

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