Three years later…
Life didn't change much after Aaran gained Dread. He kept growing, day by day, learning to control his tiny body a little better with each passing day.
His parents were as loving as the day he was born. But recently, he could notice the exhaustion creeping into their smiles. It wasn't hard to guess why—what used to be weekly monster attacks had now become a daily occurrence.
Every now and then, Aaran would notice some guards dozing off because they couldn't have a peaceful sleep anymore. The monsters didn't attack on any kind of schedule, so adjusting their sleeping schedules was impossible.
Sometimes, the beasts would strike in the middle of the night. Other times, they would show up just as the first rays of sunlight broke the sky. There was no pattern, only chaos.
It wasn't just about exhaustion—it had crippled Aurelia's trade routes. With no safe passage for merchants, trade came to a halt, and the small kingdom struggled to fight.
Thankfully, the farms remained safe, so while life had grown harder, the people could still survive.
In the end, Lucien had to ask the commoners for their help in fighting the monsters.
For so many monsters to attack Aurelia so frequently, there had to be a massive nest nearby. But no matter how thoroughly they searched, they couldn't find a single monster, let alone a thriving nest.
But the monsters weren't Aurelia's only problem.
The kingdom was tucked away in the frigid northern region of the continent. The harsh weather wasn't the problem, though—it was the people who lived on the other side.
The barbarians.
They were a savage race, backed by the Marki Empire.
The Marki Empire believed in technological supremacy and not magic, like the Runedral empire that Aurelia was part of.
Using that difference as an excuse, the Marki Empire initiated a proxy war, supplying the barbarians with guns and advanced weaponry to gain an advantage in skirmishes.
The Runedral empire, uninterested in fighting the barbarians, handed the task to Aurelia to keep them in check.
Amara and Lucien asked for help from their former party members, but it seemed Runedral was waging wars in every direction. No one was free to lend a helping hand.
Soon, Aurelia was forced to fight on two fronts with no aid, and things were getting tiresome. Either Lucien or Amara had to be present on the two battlefields, leaving Aaran behind.
Still, it wasn't all bad. Their constant absence left Aaran with plenty of time to himself, and with the parents entrusting his safety to Dread, there was nothing to fear. Not to mention, it gave him time he needed to get acquainted with his new powers.
But what about the nannies and the servants?
They had long since gotten used to Aaran's frequent disappearances. They didn't even bother looking for him half the time. Of course, Amara knew nothing about his escapades, or she would probably take Aaran to the battlefield with her.
"Good. Now feel the surrounding spirits," Dread instructed.
Aaran sat cross-legged in a cemetery of the Aurelian aristocracy. It wasn't far away, just tucked in behind the castle. After contracting Dread, Lucien had been teaching his son the basics of necromancy, until he couldn't, so Dread took over.
"Necromancy isn't just about raising undead or commanding a skeleton army," Dread mumbled, circling Aaran. "It's much more complicated. Spirit control, curses, and even martial arts. A legion's leader must know these things."
However, Aaran was only half listening to Dread's words. If he had not regressed, he wouldn't understand half of what the teddy said.
Feel the spirits. I can't even feel my legs from sitting like this anymore!
Aaran complained in his thoughts, forgetting that Dread could hear them. After the two signed a soul contract, they no longer needed to communicate vocally. They could read each other thoughts to converse.
"You're such an impatient master." Dread shook his head. "Fine, let's try the other method. But I should warn you: your father's going to be furious, and it's going to hurt. A lot."
Although Dread warned Aaran, he had hoped the brat wouldn't take the easy way out. Why? Because he didn't want his master to be a crybaby.
Aaran might be barely four and acted the part, but he couldn't control his thoughts. Dread had already read his mind and knew the little one Lucien coddled wasn't so little after all.
"I shall begin forming a core within your body," Dread announced. "The core acts as your being, like the orb I have. But yours will be invisible—only you and those who serve you will feel it."
Before Aaran could object, Dread placed a hand on his back and began pouring his darkness into his master's body.
At first, nothing changed, but then Aaran felt something cold being poured into his body.
Dread's darkness spread through his body like ripples in a lake, reaching his fingers and toes. Soon the ripples converged, and Aaran felt something being inscribed into his heart.
No… it isn't my heart.
As Dread mentioned, the darkness was forming a core within him. A second heart was forming in his chest.
But there's no pain—
"ARGH!!!"
Aaran couldn't hold his scream when the pain erupted. It felt like his heart was being stomped on by an elephant while being stabbed by thousands of icicles simultaneously.
"Don't fight it…" Dread whispered.
It was easier said than done when the pain kept hitting Aaran in waves.
Aaran was drenched in sweat by the time Dread pulled his arm away.
"There you go." Dread nodded, his arms crossed. "A solid beginner's core at your disposal. Now then, shall we test it?"
"Test… it…?" Aaran panted.
He was in no shape to stand, let alone test anything. But Dread wasn't taking no for an answer.
"It would be a waste to not tame a spirit while we are in a graveyard."