Deus Necros

[You cannot use Inspect here.]

[Complete this trial using your own observation and analysis.]

Ludwig’s nose curled in frustration. Necros was intervening, and he wasn’t a fan of this. The system’s restrictions felt like a slap in the face, stripping him of one of his most reliable tools.

“Fine,” he muttered under his breath.

“Fine,” his doppelgänger echoed, its voice and tone perfectly matching his own.

Ludwig’s jaw tightened. “Ah, this is pissing me off,” he growled, his irritation boiling over.

“Ah, this is pissing me off,” the doppelgänger mimicked, its expression mirroring his frustration.

Ludwig clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He moved forward, weaving through the crowd of students, each of them accompanied by their own duplicates. The room was a cacophony of overlapping voices, all shouting the same words, all mimicking the same actions.

“STOP COPYING ME!”

“STOP COPYING ME!”

The chaos was escalating. Students were shouting at their clones, their voices rising in pitch and desperation. Some were already raising their weapons, their tempers flaring as the tension in the room reached a breaking point.

Ludwig coughed loudly, the sound cutting through the noise like a blade. “I don’t suppose there’s a need to even think about what we’re supposed to do?” he said, his voice calm but laced with authority.

The room fell silent for a moment as the students turned to look at him. Some of the fights defused, the realization dawning on them that they needed to use their heads, not their fists.

“Greetings, students!” Olim’s voice boomed through the room, his projection materializing in the center. The holographic figure of the professor looked down at them with a sly smile.

“It seems that you are all here. Good. Anyway, as you can see, there are doppelgängers mixed in with you,” Olim said, gesturing to the duplicates. “To make it easier, look above you.”

A wide screen appeared, displaying two numbers: 12 in green and 12 in red.

“You can probably figure out what this means,” Olim continued, his smile widening. “Your goal is simple: you must eliminate all the fakes to proceed. But there are a few rules.”

He held up a finger. “A student should only eliminate their own doppelgänger. You’re not allowed to touch another surviving student’s doppelgänger.”

Another finger. “If a student eliminates another student, they will not be disqualified from the trial. But if they eliminate another student’s doppelgänger, it’s immediate disqualification.”

A third finger. “To pass, each student has to eliminate their own doppelgänger.”

Olim’s smile turned sinister. “Also, doppelgängers can eliminate students, so be careful of who is behind you.”

He leaned forward, his holographic face filling the screen. “And finally, don’t trust whatever anyone is telling you and whatever you’re seeing. I hope it’s clear enough. Happy hunting.”

The projection disappeared, leaving the students in stunned silence.

“What the fuck?” Bron shouted, his voice breaking the tension. “What sort of stupid trial is this?” He turned to his doppelgänger, who mimicked his every word and gesture.

“I’m real, this fucker is fake!” Bron roared, pointing at his duplicate.

“I’m real, this fucker is fake!” the doppelgänger echoed, its voice dripping with mockery.

“STOP COPYING ME!” they both screamed in unison.

Ludwig sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Please,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Just calm down for a second.”

But no one listened. The room erupted into chaos as students turned on their duplicates, their frustration boiling over.

Taking a deep breath, Ludwig pulled out his scimitar. He moved swiftly through the crowd, his eyes scanning the room. Without hesitation, he plunged the blade into the chest of another student.

His clone mimicked his actions perfectly, stabbing the other student’s clone in sync.

The stabbed student gasped, their eyes wide with shock as they crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath them. Their doppelgänger mirrored the action, collapsing in perfect sync.

The room fell silent, the students staring at Ludwig in stunned disbelief.

“Why did you do that?” Minerva’s voice broke the silence. She pushed through the crowd, her face pale as she knelt beside the fallen student.

Ludwig was surprised to see her here. He hadn’t realized she had made it this far.

Before he could respond, Bron’s voice cut through the air. “What the hell did you do?” he shouted, his face red with anger. “Are you fucking insane?”

Ludwig turned to face him, his expression calm but his eyes sharp. “Do I have your attention now?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

The numbers above them changed: 12 green and 10 red.

“What the fuck?” Bron cursed, his eyes darting to the screen. “What does that mean?” He turned and did a quick head count. “The numbers don’t match. Also, how did you eliminate them and not get disqualified?”

Everyone’s eyes were on Ludwig now, their expressions a mix of curiosity and fear.

“That guy,” Ludwig said, pointing at the bodies, “I already eliminated him myself back in the earlier trial. So he was bound to be fake.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “As for our numbers, they’re clearly made to screw us over.”

Minerva stood up, her face pale but her voice steady. “He’s right. This isn’t human.” She gestured to the body, which had begun to dissolve into sludge, disappearing before their eyes.

Ludwig flicked the fake blood off his weapon.

“Remember, the teacher clearly said that you shouldn’t trust anyone. And he never mentioned what those numbers are, we all just ‘inferred’ that they’re for the Doppelgangers and students, hell they could be whatever, paying attention to them will only confuse us. Secondly, he specifically mentioned that you ‘Should’ only eliminate our own Doppelgangers, not that we have to. Also he worded students differently in each instance, in one he mentioned Surviving Student, and since this guy was not a surviving student, that means that you can kill it even if it isn’t your own clone.”

“If you do a quick count, you’ll see that there are exactly twenty of us here, even with that guy dead,” Ludwig added.

Bron’s eyes narrowed as he did the math. “So where are the other two?”

Ludwig shrugged. “I don’t know. As I said these numbers can also be fake. But what I do know is that guy was fake, and I took him down. ” He turned to his clone, his expression hardening.

“That’s not gonna help us solve this,” Bron snapped, his frustration boiling over.

“Well, probably not,” Ludwig admitted. “But at least I know how to kill my own clone.”

Minerva stepped forward, her eyes locking onto Ludwig’s. “Do you have a way to tell which is the real clone?”

Ludwig smirked. “Yes, and it’s pretty simple.” he turned to his clone. “You see, regardless of who you are, what you are, there are things you can feign and things you can hide. But some stuff are pure instinct that one cannot overcome.”

Without warning, he plunged his scimitar into his own thigh.

Ludwig’s gaze remained unphased, but the clone that was perfectly mimicking his words and actions made a mistake.

“UGH!”

“Are you mad?” Bron said.

However, Minerva’s eyes widened, “Oh my god, that’s the fake one!” she pointed at the Ludwig that grunted in pain.

“What how would you know that?” Bron asked.

“I just know…” Minerva said as she was trying to deduce some more.

“No! no!” the clone spoke, “It’s just a reaction!” the clone tried to explain himself, “I did this to prove that he’s fake, an unnatural being will have no sense of pain!” he tried to explain as he staggered back.

Ludwig slowly approached him. Though in any other time, his words would have been convincing, since a few other students seemed to be on the cautious side. After all, what kind of human wouldn’t feel the stab of a weapon?

“Yeah, he is right, a human would actually feel pain,” they said as they pointed some of their weapons at Ludwig.

“Stop everyone, you can’t attack him…” Minerva said.

“Why not?” Bron asked.

“Because you’ll be disqualified if you do… even if he is a clone you’ll be attacking a surviving student’s clone…”

They all stopped.

“See, it’s a fake I told you!” the grunting Ludwig said.

“But he is not,” Minerva said as she turned to ludwig, “Bron, remember, in the Lizardman forest…” she said, “Ludwig had an entire arm missing, most of his bones broken and didn’t even utter a single word of complaint or show any pain. He already is unnatural and we know it,” she said as she turned to the clone who was visibly panicking after thinking that he might have survived.

“That thing felt pain, Ludwig had never felt pain before.”

A wide knowing smile appeared on Ludwig’s face. Minerva seemed to have realized his intention he slowly walked up to the clone “How did it feel?” Ludwig asked.

“What are you talking about?” the clone said as he backed away some more until he reached the wall.

“That short-lived hope of yours?” he mocked.

“Are you insane?! PEOPLE HE IS THE FAKE ONE!”

Ludwig pulled the blade from his thigh, his expression calm despite the blood dripping down his leg. “They call me Ludwig the Undead for a reason,” he said, his voice cold and steady.

With a lightning-fast swing, he decapitated his doppelgänger, its head rolling to the ground as its body dissolved into sludge.

The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Ludwig stood tall, his scimitar gleaming in the dim light, his eyes scanning the room for the next threat.

The trial had only just begun.