Deus Necros

At the tower.

“Stop doing that, it’s creepy,” Kassandra muttered, shoving her glasses higher on her nose. Her voice was thin, but the complaint was genuine.

Celine did not flinch. She had seen this too often, and for her, Van Dijk’s sudden appearances had long ceased to disturb.

Van Dijk stepped forward, his eyes narrowing on Ludwig. “Ah, such a good Undead, you seem, huh?” He broke off, his expression shifting.

“Yeah,” Ludwig said flatly. “You noticed.”

“This isn’t the slime…” Van Dijk’s voice carried suspicion.

“Nope,” Ludwig said, spreading his arms a little as if to invite inspection. “This is real flesh and skin…”

“And that heartbeat?” Van Dijk leaned closer, his gaze intent.

“As strong as a dragon’s heart.” Ludwig’s grin had sharp pride in it, though it masked unease.

“Ah, I see. I see. The Heart of Wrath,” Van Dijk murmured, the words heavy with recognition. His gaze sharpened. “Kassandra. Prepare my lab, please. We need to do some… investigative work.”

“Hey, Master,” Ludwig cut in, holding his hands up. “I’m not an Undead anymore, at least not right now. If you start cutting, opening me up might kill me.”

“Oh, I already know that,” Van Dijk said, his smile thin and unreadable. “Do not worry. It’s going to be different this time.” His eyes glinted with a hunger that had little to do with food. Ludwig suppressed a shiver. He had never liked that smile.

***

Inside Van Dijk’s laboratory, time seemed to stretch and fold. Hours, or days, bled together beneath the lamplight, the air choked with the iron tang of blood and the sterile sting of alchemical fumes. Chains and racks gleamed faint in the shadows, glass tubes glowed with strange humors, and the hum of wards set the walls thrumming low.

At last, Van Dijk raised his hands, the gloves drenched scarlet. His voice was calm, almost casual. “Good enough. That’s enough data.”

“Ugh.” Ludwig groaned as Kassandra leaned over him, her hands steady despite the pallor in her face. She tipped a flask of green liquid onto the wound carved across his chest. The fluid hissed, seared, then sealed, knitting flesh together until the yawning gape was nothing more than a faint scar.

“So?” Ludwig pushed himself upright, bare-chested, smudged with drying blood, his hair damp with sweat. “What do you think?” He flexed his fingers as though to test that they still obeyed.

“You’re dying,” Van Dijk said flatly. “Which is frankly a strange notion for someone who should already be dead. You’ve gained something that looks like life, but it isn’t. The Heart of Wrath is acting like a phylactery of sorts, not for your soul, but for your flesh.”

“And I’m somehow alive thanks to it, I suppose.”

“Yes. It’s mimicry. A perfect disguise. Unless someone performed extensive study, with the right knowledge of death and dark magic, they’d never know you’re Undead masquerading as the living. You still have your stamina without limit, but now, you feel pain.”

“Yeah,” Ludwig muttered, rolling his shoulder. “That might be an issue.”

“Still, I don’t know if it’s blessing or curse.” Van Dijk wiped his gloves clean. “The Heart lets you wield Aura, as we’ve tested. But…”

“Time limit,” Ludwig finished.

“Three minutes,” Van Dijk confirmed. “Beyond that, backlash. At five minutes, death.”

Ludwig’s mouth pulled into a crooked smile. “I wonder what would happen to the Heart if I died in this body and returned to Undeath again.”

“It should remain dormant until it reactivates,” Van Dijk mused. “But theory is not proof.”

“We’ll only know when we try,” Ludwig said with a shrug.

“Don’t toy with powers you cannot fully command.” Van Dijk’s voice cut sharper now. He shook his head. “There are consequences.”

“Yeah, well.” Ludwig pulled his shirt back over his shoulders, wincing. “Consequences have been the story of my life… or my Death in this case…”

“Now,” Van Dijk said, ignoring the remark, “more pressing matters. You mentioned a lack of magical prowess.”

“Yeah. Felt it back when I fought the Wrathful Death.” Ludwig rose from the table, fastening his belt, his movements careful but steady. “I couldn’t touch it. Nothing I did mattered, except Graviol.”

“I’m impressed you learned Graviol at all.” Van Dijk adjusted his coat. “But yes. Kinetic magic is different. Low-tier spells collapse against such a being. Graviol survived because its design is… alien.”

“How come? It’s barely a third-circle spell. Why did it hold?”

“Algad Hcil’s methods,” Van Dijk said simply. “He built magic from the foundation upward. His calculations run deeper than ours. That’s why his spells resist unraveling. The Wrathful Death could not so easily unmake their structure. Algad Hcil was no simple man. If a man he ever was…”

“I’d suppose not.” Ludwig lifted his hand, summoning the staff he had carried since Tulmud. The black wood gleamed with a strange luster, heavy with history. “Speaking of alien.”

Van Dijk’s eyes sharpened. “Black Wood. From the World Tree. I never thought I’d see it with my own eyes.” His voice soured. “Whose was it?”

“One of the werewolf’s companions,” Ludwig said, his voice steady.

Van Dijk’s mouth tightened. “Then he is…”

“Dead,” Ludwig said. “And I carry his knowledge. Can’t use most of it. That’s why I’m asking you.”

“Show me,” Van Dijk said after a pause. His tone carried no surprise anymore, only hunger for knowledge. “The grimoire.”

“Don’t have it. But I’ve got this.” Ludwig opened his palm, and the Codex Umbra surfaced into the air with a weight that felt heavier than stone. The pages fluttered open, symbols alive with a complexity Ludwig himself could not unravel. Their ink seemed to crawl, breathing.

Van Dijk leaned close, his eyes narrowing. “I can’t see the words.”

“I’ll copy them into another grimoire,” Ludwig said. “One you can read.”

Van Dijk’s lips curled faintly. “This is the work of a lich. A lifetime’s obsession pressed into ink. Once you walk this path, there’s no turning back. You are certain you’d rather not focus on the sword alone? You’ve made impressive strides there.”

“And waste your time after you taught me this much magic?” Ludwig smirked. “I’d be ungrateful, wouldn’t I?”

Van Dijk studied him for a moment, then gave the barest of smiles. “Fine. Then let us learn some high-level Dark Magic.”