Deus Necros

The titan’s scream dwindled into a grinding growl, and from every fracture in its armor came a glow, molten and dangerous. The cracks lit like veins of lava, fissures spiderwebbing across its chest and limbs, each one brightening until Ludwig’s eyes stung from the brilliance.

Ludwig wrenched at the chain to gain even more momentum and just as he landed and was about to think of what to do, The Wrathful Death flared outward. From every opening in its armor, from the seams of its helm and the plates of its chest, a torrent of searing force erupted. It wasn’t flame, not in the natural sense; it was heat and rage made manifest, an inferno that expanded in all directions.

Ludwig barely managed to recognize the danger before it struck him.

[You Died!]

The words burned across his sight, then faded as breathless darkness claimed him. He snapped back to the checkpoint in the very same freefall, air screaming around him once more. His jaw tightened as he crushed another soul item, shoving its essence into his lantern, buying himself more time. The taste of ash and iron coated his tongue even though he didn’t need to breathe.

“This fucker is struggling until the end…” he muttered, watching the Wrathful Death’s cracks beginning to glow again. “But I’m not leaving Oathcarver in its skull.”

This time he didn’t hesitate. The chain around his wrist coiled and then shot out, snapping taut as it hooked Oathcarver’s hilt. The sword was still embedded in the titan’s helm, trembling against the red-hot glow. He yanked with every ounce of undead strength, gritting his teeth until his jaw creaked.

The blade came free with a shriek, tearing loose from molten fissures, sparks exploding around its edge. The same scene was almost repeating from last time only this time a kick away from the beast and a twist in the air Ludwig created distance this time, pulling Oathcarver in front of him like a shield, hiding behind the enormous slab of steel as though it were the only thing between him and obliteration.

The Wrathful Death’s blast came.

It wasn’t fire, it was more like standing in the heart of a collapsing star. A shockwave of incandescent heat slammed against Oathcarver’s edge, shoving Ludwig upward like a ragdoll. His arms shuddered violently from the force. He felt the sword vibrate through his bones, like holding the tongue of a bell mid-strike.

The eruption tore the clouds apart, and for a heartbeat Ludwig thought he’d been caught in the blast after all, but when the system didn’t declare him dead, he laughed through scorched lips. The gamble worked. Oathcarver had saved him.

When the flare finally died down, he realized the Wrathful Death had dropped faster. The monster’s aura burned hotter, flames hissing from every fissure as it plummeted like a comet. Ludwig twisted his body, tilting to keep it in his sight. Below them, the jagged spires of the mountain range were no longer distant, they were looming, racing up to meet them with bone-breaking speed.

“Shit… if he survives that fall, I’m paste,” Ludwig muttered, calculating. His undead body could endure much, but terminal velocity into jagged ice and stone would tear even him apart. He needed to slow down.

He unequipped Oathcarver, shoving it back into his inventory before it dragged him down any faster. Then he stretched both arms out, palms wide.

“[Graviol]!”

The orbs burst against his limbs, not heavy but lightened, forcing recoil explosions outward. The blasts slowed his descent slightly, each one kicking against his arms and chest, buying him precious fractions of time. The air clawed at his face, cold and biting, while gravity snarled and dragged him back down again.

“Again,” He detonated another series, shoving himself upward, his mana reserves running extremely low, but still the blast was slowing the plummet.

It wasn’t perfect. He couldn’t stop entirely, not with his limited mana and not with such small bursts. But at least he wasn’t hitting the mountain at full speed.

The Wrathful Death wasn’t slowing at all.

The titan struck the mountainside first. The impact shook the world.

167,447,771

The number scorched across Ludwig’s vision as if written in lightning. The Wrathful Death’s health bar dipped brutally, dropping near a third of its full length. Steam and dust exploded outward in a colossal wave. Jagged stones shattered, avalanches thundered from neighboring peaks, and for a second the entire mountain range seemed to convulse in pain.

Ludwig’s fall brought him into the heart of the aftermath. He slammed into snow first, the powder swallowing him whole, cushioning the impact but still rattling his bones until his body screamed with phantom pain. Buried in an icy tomb, cold pressed against his flesh like a coffin lid.

“Not staying here…” He forced himself to move, muscles groaning.

He ripped Durandal from his inventory, reshaped it into a scythe, and hurled it upward. The blade latched into the icy wall above, biting deep like a climbing pick. Ludwig yanked on the chain, pulling himself free from the suffocating snow. White shards and powder cascaded around him as he burst back into the open air, gasping out of habit.

And there it was.

The Wrathful Death, dented, its armor cracked further, crimson light leaking from every seam. It tore itself out of the crater it had made, looming like a titan resurrected. Snow and stone fell from its frame in great sheets, steam rising where molten light scorched the ice. Its helm turned, and the burning eyes behind the visor fixed on Ludwig.

The two locked gazes, one undead, grinning despite exhaustion, the other an abyssal juggernaut, faceless but seething with fury.

“Sup,” Ludwig said, lips curling into a sharp grin. His voice came out hoarse, but the mockery carried well in the frozen air.

The Wrathful Death raised both massive hands, gauntlets blotting out the sky as it prepared to crush Ludwig into nothing.

But before the blow could fall, a rumble like thunder rolled behind it. The mountain groaned.

Ludwig’s eyes widened.

The highest peak, the same one they had fallen from, seemed to stir like some colossal beast. The slope trembled, split, then collapsed. An avalanche of stone and ice and snow tore free, an unstoppable tide of white and gray. Entire cliffsides crumbled into motion, cascading down in a roar that devoured the battlefield.

The Wrathful Death paused, helm tilting slightly as though the calamity behind it was even worthy of its notice.

Ludwig’s grin sharpened into something feral. “Oh, this is going to get messy…”

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