Deus Necros

Men screamed while steel struck steel and arrows crossed overhead.

At the center of the chaos stood a man Ludwig did not recognize.

He was human, ordinary, and young. Necros focused the vision on this man.

This was Malakar before he became Sloth.

Blood covered Malakar’s armor while a sword rested in one hand.

The vision shifted and carried Ludwig into another war, then another. Years passed around him within seconds as Malakar rose through the military ranks.

Malakar advanced through relentless service rather than noble blood or political favor. Every responsibility placed upon him was accepted and completed regardless of its difficulty.

Guard this road, and he guarded it. Hold this city, and he held it. Suppress that rebellion, and he went.

He defended the border and returned scarred but victorious. When ordered to command men, he accepted them and led them through battle.

Every duty became another reason to entrust him with a greater one. The cycle continued until Malakar became the greatest commander his kingdom possessed.

Then the earth beneath the capital opened. Ludwig watched the first breach form like a wound carved through reality itself.

It resembled neither a cave nor a dungeon. Something between worlds had torn apart beneath the city, allowing monstrous creatures to emerge.

Malakar was ordered underground, and the king delivered the command personally. ”Contain the breach until we discover how to close it.”

Malakar saluted before asking, ”How long?”

”Temporarily.”

The vision shifted and showed soldiers entering the breach beside him. They died, replacements arrived, and those men died as well while Malakar survived.

The cycle repeated for years. The soldiers beside Malakar became younger as he aged, his hair grayed, and scars multiplied across his body.

His sword changed several times because weapons broke faster than he did. Eventually, the king died and passed both the throne and the breach to his son.

The new king possessed no solution for closing it. Instead, he began searching for a way to prevent its guardian from dying.

Years passed before a man appeared within the royal court.

Ludwig froze when he recognized the impossibly old face, the strange smile, and the eyes that always seemed to know something everyone else did not.

Ludwig had met him five years earlier. This was the same man who had sold him the Mask of The Blind Witness.

He tried to speak, but nothing came from him. This was a memory, and he could only observe what had already happened.

The old man carried a white branch whose surface appeared almost alive. He presented it to the king and said, ”This may preserve your guardian.”

The king stared at it before asking, ”What is it?”

”The White Draught.”

The old man explained that whoever consumed it would cease aging and become extraordinarily difficult to kill. The price would be a gradual separation from human form.

The king summoned Malakar, who had already become an old man. His scar-covered hands trembled faintly as he listened to the explanation.

Malakar asked one question. ”How long?”

”Only until we find another solution.”

Once again, the sacrifice was presented as temporary. Malakar accepted the White Draught and consumed it.

The vision accelerated through decades and then centuries. Kings replaced kings, but the duty to guard remained the same. Temporarily.

Malakar’s body changed beneath the draught’s influence as his frame grew and his skin faded toward white.

His human features gradually disappeared while additional eyes formed, bones stretched, and flesh rearranged itself. Eventually, the man became the pale giant Ludwig had fought.

Duty remained after everything else changed. Malakar continued guarding the breach as kingdoms shifted above him.

Dynasties ended, borders moved, and languages evolved. The city he had once protected eventually disappeared, yet Malakar remained beneath the earth.

Every few decades, someone descended to check upon him. The visits became separated by years, then decades, then centuries before finally stopping altogether.

Malakar continued fighting creatures for people who had forgotten his name. Thousands of years passed before the monsters abruptly stopped coming.

He stood alone inside the tunnel and waited for the next attack. An hour became a day, then days became months while the breach remained silent.

For the first time across a span longer than entire civilizations, Malakar had nothing to fight. He looked upward and began climbing because he believed someone had finally solved the problem.

Perhaps the breach had been sealed from somewhere above, or the people responsible for overseeing him had been too occupied to send word. Perhaps the kingdom still remembered him.

Ludwig watched Malakar create excuses for people he had not seen in centuries. Malakar himself clearly did not believe them.

When he reached the surface, he found another civilization standing over the ruins of his kingdom. The people saw a gigantic pale creature emerging from ancient tunnels beneath their city and immediately raised their weapons.

Malakar stopped before them. ”I am Malakar.”

Nobody knew the name. Malakar continued, ”I guard the breach below.”

No one believed him because history had erased him. The kingdom he served had become an archaeological curiosity remembered by a handful of scholars, while every record of his accomplishments, rank, and king had vanished.

The monster was all that remained. The soldiers attacked him, but Malakar refused to retaliate.

Arrows struck his body, magic burned his skin, and soldiers stabbed at his legs. Malakar endured their attacks before returning underground.

The soldiers followed despite his repeated warnings to leave. Before long, the breach opened again and released another wave of abominations.

The humans behind Malakar panicked when the creatures emerged. He turned toward the monsters and resumed his ancient duty.

The people who had attacked him moments earlier split between those who watched the pale abomination place himself between them and the creatures from the breach. And those who attacked either. Malakar suffered wounds from both directions as the monsters tore at his front and the humans continued attacking his back.

He never struck the humans. Instead, he killed every creature emerging from the breach and saved the people trying to kill him.

Only then did they begin believing part of his story. Whatever else Malakar might be, he truly had guarded the breach.

The rulers came after learning what had been discovered beneath their city. They feared Malakar at first, but that fear changed once they understood what he represented.

He was immortal, powerful, ancient beyond reason, and capable of destroying armies by himself.

Fear gradually transformed into ambition.

Representatives descended into the rift and addressed him. ”The kingdom you served is gone.”

Malakar looked at them. ”Humanity remains.”

”So?”

”If your duty was truly to mankind, then serve mankind as it exists today.”

Maps appeared before him, showing borders, enemy nations, and military targets. They wanted Malakar to march across those borders, destroy armies, break fortresses, and claim territory for them.

Malakar stared at the maps before pushing them away. ”My duty is beneath this land.”

His voice remained calm as he continued, ”I guard the rift.”

The rulers argued that borders had changed while humanity had endured. They claimed that refusing to fight their enemies amounted to refusing humanity itself.

Some accused Malakar of cowardice, while others claimed he clung to an obsolete duty because accepting a greater one frightened him. Malakar ignored every accusation and returned below.

The rulers now knew where to find him, and delegations began arriving constantly. Some praised or worshiped him while others begged for his aid, though many simply demanded it.

Malakar asked them to provide soldiers for the breach. They refused immediately.

”Mortal soldiers die.”

Malakar stared at them. ”Yes.”

”You do not.”

”That is why I require help.”

”Why sacrifice hundreds when one immortal guardian can perform the same duty?”

Malakar asked the rulers to help him seal the breach permanently. They dismissed the undertaking as too expensive, complicated, and demanding upon their resources.

Why should they close something that had already been contained? Malakar requested weapons, researchers, supplies, and anyone capable of studying the rift so that his burden might eventually end.

The requests irritated the rulers. ”You possess strength beyond any mortal.”

Malakar stared at them as they continued, ”What more could you possibly require?”

”My strength does not make this my responsibility alone.”

Their answer came immediately. ”It has been your responsibility for thousands of years.”

Ludwig felt something tighten inside him as he witnessed the moment when sacrifice became expectation. Malakar had performed the duty for so long that everyone stopped considering whether he should ever have been forced to carry it alone.

Then the breach erupted and released hundreds of creatures at once. Malakar fought until the tunnels filled with blood, bodies, black flesh, and broken stone.

He could not abandon the entrance, yet one wounded and powerful creature slipped past him. Malakar sensed it escaping and looked between the path leading to the surface and the hundreds still pouring through the breach.

He had to make a choice, and that was to allow it to go. To stop the immediate and greater threat.