Deus Necros

Ludwig kept Nightbreaker resting against his shoulder. ”You’re not that terrible after all.”

For the first time since they had entered the canyon, Sloth looked genuinely displeased. The change was subtle, little more than a slight tightening around the crimson eyes and a hint of tension entering the pale face. With anyone else, Ludwig might have missed it, but Sloth had spent the entire encounter looking as though even changing his expression required more effort than the matter deserved.

Ludwig had apparently found something worth the effort.

”Silence.”

”Ah. There it is.”

Sloth stepped forward, but Ludwig watched him differently now.

The Inspection had not somehow absolved the Usurper of everything he had done. Sloth had killed thousands, probably millions. The Dark Continent surrounding them was practically a graveyard created by his expansion. During another of Ludwig’s restarts, Sloth had marched his army all the way into the Empire and succeeded where countless enemies had failed.

He had conquered it completely. The Empire had fallen beneath the endless advance of those black amalgamations, its cities consumed while Sloth claimed more territory for his strange paradise.

That version of events no longer existed, but Ludwig remembered it anyway.

So no, Sloth was not good. He was monstrously territorial, absurdly powerful, and perfectly willing to massacre anyone standing outside the borders of the world he considered worth preserving.

Compared to the other Usurpers Ludwig had encountered, however, Sloth was different. Wrath wanted destruction because destruction was the only answer rage understood. Envy had been prepared to take everything from anyone simply because they possessed something she lacked. Lust reduced desire into fixation until choice itself became another chain, while Gluttony consumed because enough could never exist.

Pride was stranger. He had isolated himself within his own world because nothing else deserved to stand beside him. He harmed fewer people than most of the others simply because engaging with them implied that they were worth his notice, but even he had refused the death Necros demanded.

Sloth seemed to possess two faces to his Sin.

With death came life, and with stillness came safety.

The people within the White Kingdom were barely living by Ludwig’s standards. They ate because food was placed before them, slept because beds existed, and eventually lost enough of their will that becoming part of a wall no longer seemed like a meaningful difference.

Yet they were alive, fed, and protected.

On a continent where being eaten by something horrible was usually one badly chosen path away, Sloth had created a place where no one needed to fear tomorrow. Taking that protection away from them might actually be cruel.

It was not enough to make Ludwig stop, but it was enough for him to understand how Sloth had convinced himself he was right.

Ludwig lowered Nightbreaker slightly. ”So what were you?”

Sloth’s stare sharpened.

”A guard? Knight? Soldier?” Ludwig continued. ”Someone tasked with doing something grand that nobody else wanted to do?”

”Silence.”

”Did they keep piling shit on you because you were the one person who never said no?”

Sloth moved. His fist came for Ludwig’s head, forcing him to duck as the strike passed overhead and punched into the canyon wall behind him. Stone erupted outward, and an entire section of the wall collapsed beneath the force of the blow.

Ludwig backed away before a second attack could follow, grinning as he regarded the Usurper. ”Oh, I see it.”

Sloth stopped.

”There.” Ludwig pointed Nightbreaker toward his chest. ”Deep down.”

Sloth’s eyes followed the mace.

”Rage? Anger?” Ludwig asked. ”You affected by my heart or something?”

”Anger requires effort.” Sloth’s voice remained calm, but Ludwig noticed that he had answered immediately. ”I use none when unnecessary.”

”Unfortunate for you.” Ludwig tightened both hands around Nightbreaker. ”You’re already doing too much.”

He charged and raised the mace above his head.

Ludwig did not target Sloth. The ground beneath the Usurper deserved to disappear. The air occupying that portion of the canyon needed to be crushed. Everything within the reach of Nightbreaker’s impact could suffer whatever consequences followed.

Ludwig swung, but Sloth moved aside. The mace missed his body and descended toward the earth while Sloth’s fist was already coming.

Ludwig saw it too late. He had committed too much weight to Nightbreaker, and the enormous weapon was still falling. There was no chance of bringing it back quickly enough.

He gritted his teeth. This was going to hurt.

Something black flashed into the space between them.

[You are in a hostile environment!]

Ludwig’s stomach dropped. ”Oh, fuck.”

Celine appeared before him with Noctivex covering her from head to foot. Black plates locked around her body while crimson veins illuminated the spaces between them, and the visor burned with brilliant red light.

Wrath had surfaced again.

Sloth’s fist continued forward, and Celine raised one hand to meet it. She did not use her sword. She reached for him with her open palm.

Her armored hand struck Sloth’s knuckles.

There was actual contact.

Ludwig saw it clearly. Skin touched armored metal without any slowing, invisible gap, or moment in which Celine’s arm forgot why it was moving.

She caught Sloth’s fist.

The collision exploded through the canyon floor beneath them. Cracks raced outward from Celine’s boots, but her arm held. Or at least Noctivex made sure the arm held.

Ludwig’s eyes widened. It was the first deliberate physical contact he had seen anyone make against Sloth while actively intending to oppose him.

Celine twisted, bringing her sword upward. The crimson edge crossed Sloth’s hand, and three fingers flew away as blue blood sprayed across Noctivex’s chest.

Sloth withdrew his mutilated hand, and Celine turned toward Ludwig. The visor opened.

[You are no longer in a hostile environment.]

The crimson glow disappeared from her eyes. Celine inhaled violently, then did so again. She looked like someone dragged from deep water moments before drowning, her lungs fighting to remember how breathing worked. Her sword lowered, and the blood-red crystal coating it immediately began to recede.

”You can control it?” Ludwig asked.

She didn’t have time to answer.

Sloth swung with his other arm before Celine had even recovered enough to notice.

Ludwig reacted first. Soul shackles snapped from his wrist and wrapped around Celine’s waist. He pulled, sending her flying backwards directly into him.

Sloth’s fist missed them and struck the ground. The canyon floor exploded into a vast spiderweb of fractures.

Ludwig and Celine rolled through the dust together. Nightbreaker disappeared from his grip before the weapon could accidentally flatten either of them. They rolled once, then twice, before finally stopping.

Ludwig blinked and found Celine sitting on top of him. Her hands were braced against his chest, and Noctivex’s helmet had retracted enough to expose most of her face. She was still breathing hard, though awareness had fully returned to her eyes.

He stared up at her. ”How are you doing that?”

Celine frowned. ”Doing what?”

”The fighting thing.”

”That explanation was remarkably useful.”

”You can zone in and out of Wrath.”

Celine looked genuinely confused, prompting Ludwig to push himself onto his elbows. ”When Wrath takes over, you can hit him. Not indirectly. Not by destroying the ground or tricking your intent. You actually hit Sloth.”

Celine glanced over her shoulder. Sloth stood among the fractured stone, looking down at his regenerating fingers. ”I don’t know.”

”You don’t know?”

”The moment that energy takes over, I lose rational thought.” Her brow furrowed as she touched one side of Noctivex’s helmet. ”I remember deciding to use it. Then...nothing.”

”Nothing?”

”Nothing coherent. Heat. Anger. An overwhelming urge to tear something apart.”

Ludwig nodded. ”That sounds like Wrath.”

”I cannot remember what I actually did.”

”You cut off his fingers.”

Celine looked toward Sloth’s hand again. ”Oh.”

”And half his arm earlier.”

Her eyes moved toward the blue-stained section of ground where the severed limb had fallen.

”I did that?”

”You also tried to decapitate Kaiser.”

”That sounds less useful.”

”And me.”

Celine looked back down at him. ”That one I find easier to believe.”

Ludwig stared at her before becoming aware of their position again. ”Care to move, though?”

Celine raised an eyebrow. ”You don’t like it?”

Ludwig glanced toward Sloth, the crater beside them, the monsters filling the canyon walls, and the regenerating vampire puddle several meters away. ”Really not the best place for that kind of joke.”

A deliberate cough came from beside them, and both turned toward the enormous pool of blood that had once been Cain.

Streams of crimson crawled toward its center. Bones formed first and pushed upward from the puddle. Muscle wrapped around them, organs assembled inside a rapidly rebuilding torso, and skin spread over the structure shortly afterward.

Cain’s head finished forming last. His eyes opened, and he looked directly at his niece sitting on Ludwig. His expression flattened.

Celine stared back for a moment before standing.

Cain’s body finished reconstructing as he rose from the remaining blood. His clothing had not survived nearly as gracefully, though enough had reformed or remained around him to preserve his dignity.

”How did he even cough when he was a pile of blood...” Ludwig muttered.