Deus Necros

The lizardman champion moved ahead of the group. Though it was night, thanks to their enhanced vision when its dark, they were easily able to discern the path they needed to take. Akro moved with that amphibious confidence that made darkness feel like home rather than threat; his head tilted in small corrections, nostrils flaring as he tasted wind and soil for direction.

The three other lizardmen kept loose spacing behind him, careful not to bunch up the way prey did, slipping through the grass with minimal sound. With the addition of it being open planes, it wasn’t too difficult for the orcs to follow them.

Ludwig and Gale’s heavier steps would have been noisy in a forest, but in the wide emptiness of the plains it didn’t matter, the wind swallowed most of it, and the night itself hid silhouettes well enough so long as they didn’t crest ridgelines too cleanly.

Gale and Ludwig were walking behind the group of Lizardmen while surveying their surrounding. Gale’s head moved constantly, a soldier’s scan that never truly stopped, left horizon, right horizon, backtrail, then forward again, while Ludwig’s gaze lingered on the darker patches of land where something could be waiting.

He was the only one who looked like he was in deep thought the whole way unlike the stressed lizardmen. The scouts kept glancing back at him the way people glanced at a weapon they didn’t fully understand, expecting an answer just because he existed.

“What is on your mind?” Gale asked as he walked next to Ludwig.

“I’m just thinking of what the skeleton said…” Ludwig sighed as he didn’t come with anything new. The story had gaps, and Ludwig hated gaps. Gaps were where traps hid. Still, holes didn’t automatically mean lies. The skeleton was summoned via necromancy, so he was loyal to boot. And wouldn’t dare lie to Kaiser or Ludwig. That loyalty didn’t guarantee accuracy, memory could be broken without malice, but it did remove deceit from the equation.

“You think we’ll have trouble facing the Ogre tribe?”

“When did we ever have things the easy way?” Ludwig sighed as he walked forward. The answer came out dry, but not dismissive. He knew it well, the Ogres were far stronger than any other tribe, and if they somehow met them, and they refused to cooperate. Then that will guarantee the loss of this floor. Ludwig might have to return by death, and try a different way.

The problem was…

“The nerfs are too hard…” He sighed.

“How come? We are indeed weakened but I don’t think it would be that hard to battle Ogres. I’ve done that before.”

“It’s not about the ogres, Gale,” Ludwig said, “It’s more like, if things go wrong. Even if I return by death, can I change things? I was thinking maybe we could try and ambush the orc tribe after they fought the Black Bear, or even do an alliance with the Yellow mountain to help them… but you saw it yourself.” He kept his voice low, but the frustration was real. In his original body, in his original power, a thousand red orcs would have been a problem of minutes. Here, it was a wall.

“Their army is too strong for a couple orcs to beat,” Gale said.

“Yeah, if I had my original power… I could have torn down the whole floor in a heartbeat.”

“And that is why this tower is limiting us… but,” he said as he turned to Ludwig, “It failed to limit you completely, has it not?” Gale said.

Ludwig smiled as he placed his hand on his chest, “Yes, I suppose it was unable to suppress the Heart of Wrath, and the Eyes of Envy.” The thought steadied him. The Tower had shackled his stats and sealed his weapons, but the usurper shards weren’t ordinary power. They were invasive. They were corruption made into ability. If the Tower couldn’t fully suppress them, then either it lacked the authority, or it needed Ludwig’s authority for something.

“Perhaps, that is why you’re tasked with eliminating pride in this tower. Maybe the tower itself was unable to rid itself from Pride.”

“Good point,” Ludwig said. The logic fit too neatly to ignore. If Pride’s effects have spread even among the Orcs, then the tower might just be annoyed enough that it didn’t remove Ludwig’s powerful Usurper abilities for that reason.

A cleanser brought in to remove a stain the Tower couldn’t scrub out itself.

That made Ludwig less a challenger and more a tool. He didn’t like that thought. Tools got used up.

“Sir, that’s the mountain,” Akro cutoff Ludwig’s thoughts.

Looking up ahead, in the horizon, and under the light of a few stars you could see the cloud covered tip of a far away mountain. It rose darker than the night around it, its outline interrupting the sky like a blunt threat. The upper portion was wrapped in slow-moving clouds that didn’t look like weather so much as breath.

“That’s where the Ogre tribe lives.” He reconfirmed.

“Good, looks like a couple hours march, let’s hurry up then.

“The hell is going on here,” Ludwig couldn’t help but utter as they reached the base of the mountain. The change was immediate and wrong. It wasn’t just the elevation or the smell shifting; it was the way the land near the mountain felt… guarded. The air pressed heavier against the skin, as if even wind needed permission to move here.

It was a forested base, with trees that looked like they were fighting for space. It was packed way too tightly that passing through the trees would feel like a task. Trunks stood shoulder to shoulder, branches interlocked in a knot of shadow, roots bulging and twisting over one another like veins. The spacing was unnatural. Forests didn’t grow this dense by accident, not unless something had forced it.

“Should I break it down?” gale asked.

“No, don’t,” Ludwig said as he approached one of the trees. He didn’t like the idea of announcing themselves with destruction when the entire place already felt like a trap waiting for sound. He placed his palm on it and frowned, “There is magic here… some form of ritual. It’s…” The bark under his hand felt too cool, too still. Not dead, but… held. As if life had been instructed to remain quiet.

He couldn’t finish his words before the trees parted themselves.

More like, bent enough to allow passage.

The trunks didn’t uproot. They didn’t snap. They simply bowed, slow and deliberate, opening a corridor as if a mouth had decided to smile. Leaves didn’t rustle with the movement. Branches didn’t scrape and complain. The silence remained intact, and that was what made it worse: the barrier didn’t behave like nature. It behaved like a mechanism.

“Tsk… I don’t like this,” Ludwig said.

“Do we go in?” Akro asked.

The rest of the Lizardmen felt apprehensive and worried. Their tails tightened, bodies lowering slightly as if trying to make themselves smaller. Even their night-vision confidence had limits. This was the kind of place that didn’t need darkness to be dangerous.

“This is a barrier type magic, it’s stopping anything from… leaving.”

“As for entry,” Gale said as he stepped above the parted trees, “It’s very welcoming.”

“Feels like we’re walking into the jaws of a beast…” Akro said.

“We don’t have much choice, do we?” Ludwig said as he followed after Gale.

The corridor swallowed them. Behind, the trees remained bent, waiting. Ahead, the forest climbed into the mountain’s shadow, and the air felt colder despite the packed growth. Ludwig could feel the lizardmen’s hesitation pressing against his back like a physical weight.

The rest of the lizardmen simply hung their heads down.

“You guys, are you not proud lizardmen? Would you be fine with people knowing that Orcs walked into danger while we shied away?”

That brought enough fighting spirit into the lizardmen that they all shook their heads, “We’ll follow!” The answer came sharp, more pride than courage, but pride still moved bodies. Ludwig didn’t mock it. He used it.

Ludwig smiled, “Good, keep close, don’t get too far away. We don’t know what’s in there, and if they welcome us, that means they expect us.”

The group walked up the mountain range, the trees beyond the perimeter were fewer than before. The forest thinned in odd patches, as if the barrier was only meant to trap and funnel at the entrance.

But there was one thing that kept bugging everyone who was in. Though it was dark, and dreary, the worst part was the fact that it was soundless.

No sound of critters or the occasional owl scream or even a random rustling of leaves. The trees felt dead while they stood. The ground felt dead as they walked. And the wind felt dead while they moved.

Ludwig’s footsteps sounded too loud in his own ears because there was nothing else to compete with them. Every breath became noticeable. Every swallow felt like a betrayal of silence.

“What is that?” one of the lizardmen asked.

Taking note of his words, Ludwig approached to see what he was talking about. At first Ludwig saw only a shape ahead, something upright among trunks, an outline that didn’t sway with the faint air. Then the closer he got the more his form revealed itself. There was what looked like a creature standing with one of his hands extended forward. A gesture frozen mid-warning, mid-reach, mid-flight.

A large creature of flesh and bones. Arms the size of a tree’s trunk, and a dangling belly that showcased how much this creature loved to eat. Large claws, a pointed and crooked long nose with many warts growing on it. large eyes that showed fear and agony mixed in. And a forever painted depiction of horror on its expression.

A troll.

Frozen in place, not by cold, but by sheer terror and something else. From far away one couldn’t see it, but once they got closer. You could notice it. Something was mixed in with the body of this creature.

Vines. Thorny vines were wrapped all over him, preventing him from ever moving, or escaping. They weren’t natural vines either. They looked too deliberate, each coil placed to pin joints, to lock muscles, to force the troll’s body into a permanent posture of helplessness. They bit into flesh but didn’t kill. They held. They threaded through cracks in bark and stone like they were part of the mountain’s will.

Freezing him in the same spot, for time only god knows how long. Unable to run away even while the exit was so close. Unable to close its eyes to rest. Forever frozen in utter terror of whatever horror he saw before it turned to this…