American library books » Other » Alpha Zero (Alpha LitRPG Book 1) by Arthur Stone (top 5 books to read TXT) 📕

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harvesters?” The question seemed reasonable to me. “If they truly have no way to fight the undead, the Emperor of Pain could slaughter them all. But they only killed two, not everyone.”

Beko shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know everything. There must be things besides the river which can stop them. Perhaps there are places even on the left bank which they cannot reach. Or, the Emperor of Pain may be bound by some oath. Some contract. Some condition outside of which he cannot inflict his evil. He needs to live like the rest of us do, after all. And provide for his own. Neither he nor they have the protection of the Pentagon. So he negotiates and makes deals. That’s why he calls himself the Emperor. An Emperor needs lands of his own, after all. This one has his lands—in which he lives.”

I blinked in bewilderment. “I don’t get it. An agreement? With who? What kind of agreement?”

“I don’t know. That’s what people say.”

“Just lay this out for me so I can understand it, Beko.”

“How? I don’t understand it all myself. Rumors vary. The ones telling them don’t understand either. And I don’t understand them. It’s a mess. But the forest definitely has powers who claim it as their own. Everyone knows that. These rulers of the forest must be feared. Even the Emperor of Pain must fear them. One time, I even heard that...”

Beko’s countenance grew dark, showing how much the topic affected him. But who else could I ask about this topic? Everyone else was barely willing to give me the time of day.

Still, I would avoid pressuring the ghoul too much. I stopped him. “Let’s leave this topic alone if you’re uncomfortable about it. I just find it fascinating. After all, I’m only here by accident. I don’t know anything about this place. So everything you tell me is very important to me.”

“How does someone get here ‘by accident’?” Beko asked.

After a moment, I decided to give him a dramatically truncated version of the events which had transpired. “Bandits attacked our home. All of my relatives were killed, but I managed to get away. As I fled, I got lost, and ended up sleeping under a bush on the cold earth. There, I was found by a cart carrying supplies to the trading post.”

“That’s strange,” Beko blinked. “We have similar stories.”

“You were brought here by a trade cart?”

“No, I lived at an outpost with my mother and her husband. He was a good man. He beat me sometimes, especially when drunk, but he fed me well. I don’t remember what happened very well after that,” Beko turned, moving closer and lowering his voice, “when they asked, I just said I didn’t know who it was that attacked the outpost. But I just didn’t know what to answer. What could I say? It was the forest itself that walked towards us. I don’t know how else to say it. And of course answering like that was no option then; they would’ve taken me for a fool. As if they hadn’t already. People like me are unloved in every corner of the world. They say the people down south burn ghouls at the stake, even. I’d rather be here, at this trading post. At least they don’t plan to burn me. To the contrary. They feed me. Also, the forest cannot come here. This island is special. Even the demons cannot make their way to it. The stone on which this trading post stands is enchanted by an ancient magic. As all of the nearby areas of the Wild Wood. Well—nearly all of them. This place is called the Pentagon. It is a place of peace.”

“What did that forest that attacked you look like?”

Beko shook his head. “It was very dark, and filled with the cries of suffering men and women. Mom told me to run into the forest. All of the kids ran that way. I had just been roused from bed, so my head was muddled. The moon shone in the sky, and something was burning behind me. I saw the forest, a wall of darkness, the children running towards it. And then—it seemed to step towards us. I don’t know how. Some kind of magic. But it looked just like that: the forest moved. Everyone kept running towards the trees, as if they hadn’t seen what I had. Perhaps they hadn’t. I could see better in the dark than they could. I knew I could not run that way. It was a trap, and they were all running straight into it. So I fled the other way—not directly back the way I had come, but up the side of a hill that was nearly devoid of trees. The isolated oaks and ashes could not be properly called a forest, and I wanted to stay away from anything properly called a forest. After all, the woods had changed somehow. I was the only one whom the people from the trading post found alive. The rest were dead. Or missing. The forest took the children. Every place in this land has its masters. Every place belongs to someone. Now, the Stone is an exception. This is a special island, they say. Whoever owns the right-hand shore decided to reclaim what was his. That was the end of my outpost. And my mother. And the man who had stood in for my father.”

“I’m sorry, Beko.”

“What for?”

“That I reminded you of all of this.”

“That’s not your fault. You need to know, and to know all of it. After all—you live here now.”

“So as I understand it, things like this don’t happen very often here. Two dead is a serious event. As you said, the people are worried.”

“Of course they are. No one is eager to lose their skin, so many are terrified. And to the masters of this part of

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