Deus Necros

“She?” Ludwig muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he processed the bishop’s words. The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of his question hanging in the air.

The bishop and the paladin both turned to Ludwig, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity. The paladin, Juaquin, looked particularly irritated.

“I thought the saint was a young boy…” Ludwig continued, his voice steady but laced with confusion. “The one that appeared in Letonia and eradicated the Drak Family…”

The bishop’s expression softened, though his eyes remained sharp. “Ah, yes… we’ll get to that. It’s very important too. But no, he wasn’t the saint. He was called that because… well, he was just that powerful both in divinity and in influence. The real saint was back at the holy temple.”

The bishop snapped his fingers, and a faint shimmering barrier of sound encapsulated the room, cutting off any possibility of eavesdropping. The air grew heavier, the atmosphere more tense.

Van Dijk leaned back in his chair, his crimson eyes narrowing as he regarded the bishop. “I presume it’s something special, for you to put all this up,” he said, his tone calm but laced with skepticism.

The bishop sighed, his expression weary. “Oh, it’s special alright,” he said, his voice low and heavy.

The paladin, Juaquin, stepped forward, his voice sharp and accusatory. “Your Holiness, is it alright for that boy to listen to this?” he asked, his tone dripping with disdain.

Ludwig couldn’t help but smirk inwardly. ‘Man, sounds like he has a beef with me. Can’t blame him though, he’s easy to rile up.’

The bishop raised a hand, silencing the paladin with a single gesture. “You heard the Tower Master. He’s his one and only disciple. Judging from his current and future status, he’ll probably come to know this before the mundane man anyway. Regardless, yes, this is a very big problem for our faith, to be honest… and he also knows about Mot.”

‘So it was that boy in the vision and from Hoyo’s story…’

Van Dijk’s smirk widened, his amusement evident. “I’m all ears, though I doubt I can be of any help for the servants of Dishana,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm.

The bishop’s expression darkened slightly. “It’s not about Dishana. It’s about something else,” he said, his voice heavy with frustration. “The one she gave us a prophecy about is the same boy your disciple spoke about—the one that serves another deity. Which is quite depressing, to be honest…”

Van Dijk’s eyebrows shot up, his curiosity piqued. “So you’re saying that your own deity is making a saint of another deity’s chosen?” he asked, his tone incredulous.

Ludwig couldn’t help but snort inwardly. ‘Talk about being a cuck…’

The bishop sighed, his expression weary. “Yes, we don’t question her infinite wisdom. That is part of it, and all we can do is oblige.”

Van Dijk relaxed further into his chair, his expression calm but skeptical. “So,” he said, his tone casual, “what do you want me for? I have no relation to such matters.”

The bishop leaned forward, his expression serious. “That’s what I was getting to. Because the one the boy worships… is an Outer God.”

Van Dijk’s eyes widened slightly, his interest clearly piqued. “Oh…” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “Now, that’s very interesting…”

Ludwig frowned, his confusion evident. “What’s an Outer God, Master?” he asked, his tone curious.

Van Dijk turned to Ludwig, his expression calm but serious. “Consider them old gods… from an era long since gone, with very few worshippers.”

Ludwig’s frown deepened. “Then they must be a weak one,” he said, his tone skeptical.

Van Dijk shook his head. “Not necessarily. Some of them are even stronger than all known gods. But let me guess,” he said, turning back to the bishop, “another hero is appearing?”

The bishop’s eyes widened slightly, his surprise evident. “How did you know?” he asked, his tone sharp.

Van Dijk smirked, his amusement evident. “It fits. After all, we all received notice of the last summoned hero dying immediately after being summoned here to Ikos. You’re not the only faction with information.”

Ludwig’s mind raced, pieces of the puzzle falling into place. ‘Yep, definitely me…’

The bishop sighed, his expression weary. “Yes, it was quite strange. The ritual was somehow intercepted. It made Dishana furious, but she couldn’t do much since Necros intervened…”

Van Dijk’s smirk widened. “That’s not my business,” he said, his tone casual. “But I understand how she’d be angry. Still, she wouldn’t dare go against Necros.”

The bishop nodded, his expression grim. “No one does. He is… different. Though he has no worshippers—for who worships death?”

Van Dijk turned to Ludwig, his expression calm but serious. “Necros is also considered an Outer God, but that’s because he just doesn’t really care to make a faction. And whoever builds him a temple or tries to create a fellowship immediately suffers incredible misfortune.”

Ludwig nodded, his expression thoughtful.

Van Dijk turned back to the bishop, his tone calm but probing. “So, when are you expecting this hero to arrive?”

The bishop sighed, his expression weary. “Oh, this one isn’t summoned. Apparently, the door to summoning heroes from another world is closed and will remain closed indefinitely. This was a person chosen by Dishana herself—from Ikos.”

Van Dijk’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I suppose not much is known about them for their protection,” he said, his tone calm but skeptical.

The bishop nodded. “They’re under the protection of the Holy Order, currently receiving their indoctrination.”

Ludwig couldn’t help but smirk. ‘Brainwashing, noted.’

Van Dijk leaned forward, both hands locked together, his expression calm but skeptical. “So, what do you want from me?” he asked, his tone casual.

The bishop’s expression grew serious. “Well, since the new saint will be one of the fellowships of the hero, we need to know as much about him as possible. We’ve allowed him to take control over a few regiments and detachments of our Holy Order before, and he did well in cleaning up any mess…”

Ludwig’s smirk widened. ‘Massacring everyone…’ he corrected inwardly.

Van Dijk’s eyes narrowed slightly. “But now, he’s a fully-fledged saint, protected by Dishana. But you don’t know much about his god, except the name…”

The bishop nodded, his expression grim. “And what is that Outer God’s name?”

The bishop’s voice grew heavy, his tone almost reverent. “Azathoth… The Dream.”