Deus Necros

The connection ended before Ludwig could object to Celine’s description of him.

”You make me sound unreasonable.”

”You were already trying to determine whether Tibari could be reached without its gate.”

”It was a really good option.” Ludwig thought, after all, he hadn’t ’Visited the glutenous death in a long while. And this fuckery that’s happening in The Bastos marquisette is basically an invitation. Rude, but an invitation nonetheless.

The restored gate beyond the southern courtyard activated less than ten minutes later. Its Runic lines darkened instead of taking on the familiar blue light of the Imperial network. Red illumination moved through the carvings, and the air inside the stone frame folded inward until the opening filled with darkness.

Something enormous moved on the other side.

Metal throughout the courtyard reacted to Ludwig’s attention. Noctivex stirred against him while Celine and Misty moved the manor staff farther from the gate.

A massive foot emerged first. The construct that followed possessed the broad shape of the attendants that had once carried Sloth’s palanquin, though Kaiser had altered almost every detail. Its body consisted of enormous interlocking blocks whose matte-black surfaces reflected almost no light. Broad shoulders supported arms long enough to reach its knees, and each hand could have closed around a man’s torso. Two red lights burned deep within its head.

Thomas’s flames contracted. ”Kaiser made that intentionally frightening.”

A second construct stepped through and took position on the opposite side of the gate. Both stood motionless as Kaiser walked between them with his hands clasped behind his back, looking absurdly harmless beside the things he had brought.

Ludwig examined the nearest construct. ”You took Sloth’s carriers and turned them into nightmares.”

”I corrected weaknesses in the original design,” Kaiser said. ”The white surfaces were needlessly visible, the proportions limited their reach, and their appearance failed to discourage anyone from approaching.”

”They discourage me,” Thomas offered.

”Then the design works.”

Celine studied the thick fingers and glowing eyes. ”Did making them look hostile improve their function?”

”Fear delays poor decisions. That gives the construct more time to deal with whoever is making them.”

Kaiser took three steps into Bastos and stopped. His amusement disappeared as his nose wrinkled.

”How are you even able to breath this filth, this region stinks.”

Ludwig looked around the courtyard. ”Of what?”

”You cannot smell it?” Kaiser drew a slow breath, then turned toward Celine and Thomas. Their confusion appeared genuine. ”You’ve all been exposed long enough for your senses to adapt.”

He stepped closer to Ludwig and examined him before leaning toward one shoulder. Ludwig moved back.

”If your mouth comes any closer, I’m throwing you through the gate.”

”I’m smelling the residue clinging to you. Try behaving like an adult for several seconds.”

”You’re sniffing me in my own courtyard.”

Kaiser ignored him and circled once before nodding. ”You’ve spent the most time near the affected fields. Celine and Thomas carry the same trace, though less of it.” He turned his head and squinted at the farmers, and people of the marquisette.

Thomas attempted to smell himself despite lacking a conventional nose. ”I don’t notice anything.”

”It is closer to a spiritual odor than a physical scent,” Kaiser explained. ”The influence has saturated the region gradually enough that everyone living here stopped recognizing it as foreign.”

He turned toward the southern farms and began walking. The two constructs followed, their steps sending faint tremors through the road. People emerged from nearby houses to watch and quickly reconsidered once the red-eyed giants passed. A goblin child pointed excitedly until his mother pulled him behind a wall.

Ludwig and Celine caught up with Kaiser while Misty and several members of the Holy Order followed at a safer distance.

”What are you sensing?” Ludwig asked.

”The signature is artificial.”

Ludwig studied him. ”The symptoms are real.”

”So is the Authority behind them. The pattern carrying it has been cultivated or projected through something else. It contains Gluttony’s nature, but I cannot sense the intent that should accompany an active Usurper.”

Celine moved to Kaiser’s other side. ”Explain the difference.”

”An Authority carries the will of whoever imposes it. Pride’s influence expressed Pride in every part of it. Wrath’s presence could be felt within the anger he created. This carries the principle of Gluttony, As in,consumption without satisfaction... but there is no mind directing it.”

”You think the Gluttonous Death is unaware of Bastos,” Ludwig said.

”I can’t be the judge of that... My best judgment is that he is nowhere near this territory. Someone has borrowed, transferred, or cultivated a fragment of his influence and placed it here.”

”Can an Authority be copied?”

”Not completely. Fragments can be stored in altered flesh, bound to objects, carried by servants, or sustained through ritual. I need to locate the anchor before I can tell you which method was used.”

Kaiser paused where the road divided, breathed in slowly, and turned south. The humor had left his expression entirely.

”The strongest trace is coming from the fields.”

By the time they reached the farms, the wheat had grown again. Stalks that had reached Ludwig’s waist the previous day now climbed toward his chest, with golden heads swollen by grain that contained nothing. The Holy Order had marked the edges of the affected region, but the growth had already crossed several of those lines.

Kaiser walked through one field and entered the next without examining the stalks. His attention remained fixed upon something beneath the ground. Near the center, he stopped and looked from one side of the field to the other.

”Here. The source is below us.”

Ludwig saw only wheat and dry soil. ”How deep?”

”Deep enough to avoid a plow.”

Kaiser snapped his fingers, and both constructs entered the field. Their steps crushed broad paths through the wheat. One farmer cried out and rushed forward until Ludwig caught him by the shoulder.

”My lord, please stop them. That field is everything we planted.”

Kaiser tore a golden head from the nearest stalk and crushed it above his palm. Empty husks and gray powder spilled between his fingers.

”The field has already been lost,” he said, his voice stripped of its earlier humor. ”Its appearance is being maintained by whatever lies underneath. Leaving it untouched only gives the influence more time to spread.”