Deus Necros

Back at the staircase, with another portion of his souls gone.

The lantern’s glow dimmed again, visibly this time. Ludwig didn’t need to “inspect” it. The loss was obvious, like someone had punched a hole through the reservoir. The mountain wind hit his face, and he tasted thin air and frustration.

“Motherfucker, how does he do that…” Ludwig didn’t walk in; he simply stood at the door, thinking.

He didn’t even touch the gate. For the first time since entering this floor, he paused not because he was exhausted, but because brute repetition wasn’t buying him anything except fewer souls.

’Something about him simply makes it impossible to dodge… like, what the hell am I supposed to do.’

He sat down on the staircase, thinking.

The stone was cold enough to bite through cloth. The clouds below shifted slowly, indifferent. Somewhere far away, the mountain groaned, wind through cracks, maybe, or something else. Ludwig leaned forward, elbows on knees, staring at the gate like it was a math problem that refused to show its work.

“Authority? Law? Power? the hell was that… that wasn’t a spell or skill, and it was definitely not illusion, I’m an undead, that stuff shouldn’t work on me…”

He replayed the grab in his head, not the feeling, there was barely any feeling, but the sequence. The slow hand. The instant lock. The twist that wasn’t physical force but a decision. It didn’t matter if he was living. It didn’t matter if he was undead. It didn’t matter if he tried to dodge, because the dodge never existed. The world refused to acknowledge his attempt.

For a moment, Ludwig thought of using Noctivex.

The destructive power of that thing will probably bring down the whole palace, not like he’d care.

’It isn’t mine to care if it breaks… but…’ he sighed.

But the “but” was a wall.

Noctivex needed the Wrathful Heart to be active. As in, he needed to be in Living Vessel.

And once he’s in Living Vessel, he falls to Pride’s control. He cannot live.

Even thinking about it made the solution rot in his hand. He could bring a storm, sure. He could shatter marble, split the dome, turn treasure into molten scrap. None of that mattered if Pride could just refuse him before he moved.

Ludwig stood up, “Let’s switch tactics,” he muttered to himself as he pushed the door again.

The gate groaned open like it enjoyed the routine. Heat spilled out. Ludwig stepped into it with his undead form still clinging to him like armor.

Pride was once again standing in the middle.

Unmoved. Unhurried. Like he’d been waiting, not for Ludwig to arrive, but for Ludwig to understand how pointless arriving was.

“You have returned,”

“Dude, you really got nothing else to say? Feels like I’m playing a game with the NPC repeating the same sentence.”

“I do not humor your strange words. Meaningless blabber.” He said as the pressure around Ludwig rose.

The air tightened again, that invisible clamp starting to close. Even undead, Ludwig felt it in a different way, not as lungs compressing, but as space itself turning hostile, like the room was deciding how to erase him neatly.

“Alright, screw it, if you’re that powerful as one of the Usurpers. [Termination]”

He forced it anyway, snapping the state like a chain link. It was petty and practical at the same time. If Pride wanted to play “reject the living,” then Ludwig would keep changing what he was.

Ludwig’s body immediately turned to undeath as he shut down Living Vessel.

“You altered your state.”

Ludwig began getting sick of the repeated sentences.

But he didn’t comment. Pride already informed him that he could avoid the reset by Necros, but he didn’t understand why he was still repeating the same lines over and over. Either Pride didn’t remember, or Pride pretended not to.

Either way, the effect was the same: Ludwig was being treated like an insect hitting the same glass.

“Screw it, how envious!” Ludwig said, “That power of yours, to bring the world to your will and matter!” Ludwig’s eyes turned purple.

He didn’t shout it like a battle cry. He said it like a curse, like an accusation he was forcing into existence. The purple bloom spread from his pupils outward, that familiar cold presence of Envy sliding into place behind his gaze.

[You have used {Baleful Equilibrium}]

[Warning, Baleful Equilibrium has failed to activate!]

The failure hit Ludwig like a slap. Not pain, offense. The world had denied him again, but this time it denied him in the language he understood: system certainty. A clear refusal.

“What foolishness,” Pride said.

Ludwig’s eyes widened, ’Why the fuck is he immune to this? He’s definitely stronger than me!’

The usual logic should have worked. Envy thrived on comparison. It took what it saw, weighed it, and made the world resent the imbalance. Pride was stronger. Pride was higher. Pride was the perfect target.

And yet nothing.

“You think that Envy could beat Pride?”

“Yeah, at least lower your power…” Ludwig spoke; he didn’t go on the offensive.

He didn’t even try to swing. He didn’t try to rush. He knew the grab was coming. He knew the ending was close. He wanted answers more than he wanted another pointless death.

“How can it work when Envy deprives others by comparison, while I am incomparable. I am not something that can be compared to; I am not something that can be envied, I am far above it. I simply refuse to be equated with others. So, how can you envy what you cannot understand?”

The words landed like a hammer.

Not because they were persuasive, but because they were a declaration of rule. Pride wasn’t describing reality. Pride was enforcing it. Refusing comparison, the way he refused Ludwig’s existence. Not logic. Authority.

Both Usurper powers Ludwig had just proved to be completely useless here.

’Fuck’

Pride raised his hand once again.

The slow, careless rise. The same gesture as always. The same certainty sliding into the air like a blade being drawn.

[You died.]