Deus Necros

Ludwig moved first without any signal or declaration that the fight had begun. One moment, he stood with Durandal aimed toward Sloth. The next, the ground cracked beneath his boots as he launched himself across the canyon.

This time, he knows the rule. He could not attack Sloth, harbor the intention of harming him, or think about piercing his flesh, crushing his bones, tearing out his heart, or separating his head from his shoulders. As much he would like to do those things in that exact order.

The Authority would recognize the intent. It would remove momentum from the strike, make the distance impossible to cross, or convince the attack that reaching its target was no longer worth the effort.

So Ludwig did not hate Sloth. He hated the space around him.

The dry stone beneath the Usurper’s feet offended him. The canyon wall behind him deserved to be split. The air surrounding his body needed to be torn apart, and if the violence happened to catch something standing there, that was merely a consequence. Collateral. A side effect.

The plan was simple. It should work. It should have always been this.

Ludwig reached Sloth and swung Durandal through the place where he stood, but the blade never completed the cut.

Sloth moved.

It was barely a motion. One pale finger flicked against the flat of Durandal, and the sword bounced away.

The impact traveled through Ludwig’s wrists, up his arms, and into his shoulders with enough force to wrench his stance open. Before he could recover, Sloth’s other hand closed into a fist.

The punch struck Ludwig in the chest, and his body disappeared from where he stood.

He flew several dozen meters through the canyon, struck the ground once, bounced, and carved a trench through the dry stone before finally dropping onto one knee. Dust rolled around him as he struggled to keep upright.

His chest had collapsed inward. Several ribs had broken beneath the impact, some driven deep enough that he felt them grinding against his organs. Blood filled his mouth before spilling over his lower lip and dripping onto the stone.

He coughed, and more blood followed.

”Didn’t...”

Another cough forced him to brace one hand against the ground.

”Didn’t expect you to react.”

His Living Vessel answered the damage. The crushed bones inside his chest shifted with wet cracks. Torn tissue pulled itself together, and the depression left by Sloth’s fist gradually rose as his ribs returned to their proper shape and the flesh around them sealed.

Ludwig stood. By the time he straightened, little remained of the injury beyond the blood on his lips and a dull ache beneath his breastbone.

Sloth had not pursued him. The pale giant remained where he had struck Ludwig, one hand hanging loosely beside him. Even his fighting posture looked temporary, as though he intended to abandon it the moment action was no longer necessary.

”I thought you were all about futility in motion,” Ludwig said.

”I am.”

Sloth’s crimson eyes remained fixed on him.

”But sometimes action is needed. Even for me.”

His hand opened slowly.

”I must act in order to rest.”

Ludwig took one step forward. ”Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”

”For your mind, it may appear so.”

”He’s calling me stupid...”

”I suppose he is right,” Kaiser said.

Ludwig snapped his head toward Kaiser.

The former lich stood farther back, staff held casually in one hand despite the black creatures watching from the canyon walls.

Ludwig glanced toward him. ”You’re agreeing with him?”

”I’m agreeing with the interpretation.” Kaiser tapped his staff against the ground. ”If he acts today so he can rest tomorrow, the action still serves his Authority.”

”I thought the saying was not to put off today’s work for tomorrow. That should be against Sloth’s entire existence.”

”Yes, but there is also the early bird catching the worm.”

Kaiser took one careful step backward.

”You are the worm in this comparison. Once he eats you, he can return home and relax with a full stomach.”

Ludwig stared at him. ”Helpful.”

”I try.”

Sloth’s gaze shifted, and Kaiser noticed too late.

”Where do you think you’re going, lich?”

Sloth tapped the front of one foot against the ground, causing a small rock to jump into the air. It was barely larger than a thumb. Sloth caught it between two fingers and threw it.

The movement looked painfully slow. There was no snap of the shoulder or violent rotation of the body. His arm extended with the same lazy reluctance he gave to everything else, and the stone left his fingers at a speed that should have been easy to avoid.

Kaiser did not try. His expression changed instantly, and he slammed the base of his staff into the canyon floor.

Magic erupted before him. One barrier appeared, then ten, then dozens. Layers of translucent shields rose between Kaiser and the approaching stone, stacking over one another until they formed a vast magical bastion of overlapping circles, hexagonal plates, and densely woven runes.

The pebble touched the first barrier, and it shattered it. The second collapsed before the fragments of the first had time to fall.

The rock continued.

Barrier after barrier broke beneath it, each one resisting for less than a heartbeat. Magic detonated across the canyon in rapid succession, producing flashes of red, violet, and pale blue light.

Kaiser raised his staff with both hands just as the final barrier broke.

The stone struck him, and his entire left side vanished.

The impact tore through his shoulder, ribs, arm, and hip in a single line. Flesh and bone scattered across the ground while Kaiser spun away and stumbled several paces before driving his staff down to keep himself upright.

”Damn...”

His remaining arm trembled as the red finger attached to it began glowing. Flesh wriggled along the ruin of his body. Strands of muscle crawled from his torn shoulder and ribs, weaving themselves together under the command of the Lich King Ashkar’s severed finger. Bone pushed outward beneath them, growing into the shape of a new arm and rebuilding the missing side of Kaiser’s torso.

The reconstruction began immediately, but it was not fast enough to hide the severity of the wound.

Sloth had thrown a pebble. Kaiser had raised enough protection to stop a siege spell, and it had not mattered.

Cain was already moving.

He vanished from beside Celine and appeared in the air behind Sloth. His body twisted during the transition, one shoulder drawn back and his arm lifted above him. Blood gathered along his fingers, hardening into long crimson claws. Their crystalline edges looked disturbingly similar to the growths that formed across Ludwig’s body whenever Wrath surfaced.

Cain brought them down. The strike carried enough force to rip through the canyon floor, yet Sloth did not turn or raise a hand. He allowed the claws to descend.

They stopped several centimeters from his back.

Cain’s arm strained. The bloody edges trembled against an invisible refusal, unable to cross the final distance no matter how much strength he forced into the attack.

Sloth turned his head. Only his head.

It rotated backward until his face looked directly toward Cain while the rest of his body remained facing Ludwig. Anyone else would have broken their neck, yet Sloth’s movement appeared perfectly natural.

That made it worse.

”You harbor malice toward me.”

Cain cursed and withdrew his claws, but he was not fast enough.

Sloth’s arm snapped backward. The motion remained lazy, but speed had little meaning around him. His fingers barely brushed Cain’s chest, and flesh tore away.

A wide section of skin and muscle disappeared from the vampire’s torso, exposing pale ribs and the dark organs beneath them. Cain tumbled through the air, landed on one hand, and skidded several meters before stopping.

His blood did not pour freely. It twisted in the air around the wound, pulling itself back toward his body while the torn flesh began regenerating.

Cain looked down at the missing portion of his chest. ”Not used to this ’don’t harm him’ rule.”

”The space,” Redd shouted. ”Attack the space!”

His face changed. Skin hardened into mottled scales, and his jaw pushed forward, widening into the head of a lizard-like creature with layered teeth and a swollen throat.

Redd inhaled and spat.

A dense gout of poison erupted from his mouth. The cloud rolled across the canyon, thick enough to hide Sloth’s body within seconds. It hissed as it touched the stone, leaving dark stains across the ground.

Redd had not aimed at Sloth. He had filled the air surrounding him.

Sloth raised one hand and snapped his fingers.

The poison cloud stopped expanding. Its movement ended so completely that individual curls of smoke froze in place. Then the entire cloud hardened.

The gas condensed into countless dark crystalline shards, each preserving the twisting shape of the smoke that had existed a moment earlier. Thousands of brittle pieces fell, struck the canyon floor, and shattered.

Tull stared. ”He can even make smoke lazy.”

He pulled his sword free. Green aura flowed from his body and gathered around the blade, sharpening its edge and reinforcing his limbs. He charged before the poison crystals had finished falling, and Redd followed him.

Thomas erupted from Ludwig’s shoulder in a streak of flame. Cain launched himself forward again despite the wound still closing across his chest, while Kaiser completed enough of his reconstruction to lift his staff.

Everyone joined the fight, with everything they got to try and take down this abomination.

The worst part was, Sloth wasn’t even trying.