Deus Necros

Without pause or break, the ground underneath Envy tore open. It did not crack politely or split cleanly, but ruptured as if something beneath had finally lost patience with the world above. Soil, stone, and roots were forced aside as hands emerged, fingers clawing through dirt that still clung beneath broken nails. Palms blackened by rot and regret pushed upward, wrists snapping into existence as if remembered rather than formed. These were the hands of those who had died with many things left unsaid, many choices left unmade. They surged out in a writhing mass, grasping and reaching for Envy’s legs like a drowning man reaching for straws, clinging with blind desperation as if her presence alone promised meaning to their return.

Even the demons that Tull and Red had killed moments before did not escape this call. Their remains shuddered and stirred, bones rattling as they were dragged back into motion. Whatever spark once defined them as demons was gone, burned away, leaving behind only skeletons animated by borrowed purpose. They rose unevenly, joints grinding, hollow sockets glowing faintly with a cold, borrowed will. Each of them had taken on a fragment of soul from Necros, just enough to move, to obey, to return to this world for one more task before oblivion reclaimed them.

The river itself seemed to recoil. The slow, eternal flow that carried the souls of the dead faltered, its surface trembling before freezing entirely. Water stilled as if gripped by unseen hands, reflections locking in place. The souls within it pressed upward, drawn to the necromantic pull that Ludwig was no longer restraining. He let it spill freely now, a deliberate release rather than a loss of control. The air thickened with the scent of damp earth and decay, layered with something colder, something that made the skin prickle and the breath feel heavier.

“Futile!” Envy howled. Her voice tore through the stillness, raw and sharp, vibrating with frustration and rage. She stomped down with all the force she could muster, the impact cracking the ground again as arms and skulls shattered beneath her heel. Bones splintered like dry twigs, hands collapsing into fragments as each undead that tried to rise was crushed back into the soil. Still, more reached up, fingers scraping uselessly against her legs.

“Ludwig!” The Knight King howled in return, his voice carrying both command and fury as he brought his sword down once more. The blade cut through the air with a weight that spoke of countless battles, striking toward Envy as she raised her hand to block.

The sword did not stop. It tore cleanly through her hand, severing it in a single, brutal motion. For a brief, almost absurd second, the hand hung in the air, fingers still curled as if trying to grasp something, before it dropped and struck the ground with a wet, hollow sound.

“I know, Dark Bullet!” Ludwig answered, already moving. His words were sharp and eager, carried by a grin that edged toward manic satisfaction. He snapped his fingers, the sound crisp and deliberate, and the Lich’s staff answered his call. It appeared in his grasp as if it had never been elsewhere, its jeweled head pulsing faintly. From its tip, a surge of energy erupted, shooting forward like the hail of a frozen hell unleashed.

The bullets were fast. Too fast for the eye to follow cleanly. Each one struck with a sharp, tearing impact, ripping through Envy’s body again and again. They punched through flesh and bone alike, leaving behind trails of darkened ruin. The force of each impact staggered her, driving her back inch by inch as the staff hummed in Ludwig’s hands.

The numbers that flared into existence this time were different. He noticed it instantly, a flicker of satisfaction tightening his grip.

-18,588

-16,777

-18,165

“Much better! Much more satisfying!” Ludwig howled. He drove the bottom of the staff into the ground with a decisive strike that sent a tremor outward. “Exhaust! Chains of Latvia! Enfeeble.”

The words came rapid and precise, three casts fired in quick succession without hesitation. The magic wrapped around Envy immediately. Invisible weight bore down on her, sapping strength from her limbs. Chains of dull, spectral metal coiled around her body, biting into her form and locking her in place. The air around her seemed to thicken as her defenses crumbled under the layered assault.

With her unable to move, Ludwig did not hesitate. He stepped forward, intent clear in his posture, and resumed the battle in a manner that felt almost ceremonial.

“Bone Spears!”

A dozen spears erupted upward from beneath Envy, formed from the crushed remains of the undead she had just shattered. Bones twisted and fused as they rose, sharpened into cruel points before driving forward. They pierced her body from every angle, punching through limbs, torso, and neck. Flesh tore as if it offered no resistance at all, as though her body were made of butter rather than divine matter.

It was a stark contrast to the Wrathful Death he had faced before, encased in an armor of pure hate that rendered such attacks meaningless. Envy did not have that protection. She could not control Wrath; it was consuming her even now, eating away at her sanity as she struggled to fight and think at the same time. Her breaths came ragged, her movements jerky and unfocused.

Ludwig saw it clearly. He was unwilling to let go of such an opportunity.

“Y-you wretched thing!” she cursed, spitting the words through clenched teeth as her body trembled against the bindings.

“Is that all you can say?” Ludwig replied, his tone almost conversational despite the carnage. “Wretched this, wretched that. It gets boring after a while.” His eyes flicked briefly to the shattered remains around her. “[Detonate Dead!]”

The spell was immediate. There was no buildup, no warning. The targets were the skeletons of the demon undead that had just risen and the broken remnants of those that had tried to pin Envy moments earlier. They ignited all at once.

The echo of the explosion rattled the mind as much as the body. Sound slammed into the air, compressing it, leaving ears ringing and vision momentarily blurred. The blast tore through Envy’s form, and the damage numbers that flared above her were, for lack of a better word, unenviable.

When the smoke and debris cleared, her body was barely recognizable. Shredded flesh hung loose in places, burned and corroded. One arm was gone entirely. Her hair was scorched away in blackened clumps. Her face was torn open and charred, turned to charcoal save for a few patches that had only suffered minimally, marked by deep third degree burns.

“Looks like it’s working… Let’s turn up the heat a notch!” Ludwig’s grin of undeath could make even the dead shiver.