Deus Necros

Once Ludwig’s vision returned to normal after the teleportation, he found himself in an eerie, unfamiliar landscape. Broken stone walls, cloaked in thick vines and green moss, sprawled around him, remnants of a civilization long lost to time. The air was heavy with the faint scent of damp earth and decay. Debris from shattered pillars, weathered by centuries of neglect, lay scattered across the basin-like structure where they had landed. Massive cliffs rose on all sides, their jagged edges casting long shadows as the last light of the sun struggled to pierce through.

Under their feet, glowing runes—part of the portal’s intricate magic—flickered faintly before fading away, leaving the air colder and heavier than before.

“Where is this?” Ludwig asked, his voice echoing softly in the stillness. “I thought we’d be in a marsh or a quagmire.”

“How do you suppose one can build a teleportation gate in the middle of a swamp?” Van Dijk replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh… true,” Ludwig admitted sheepishly.

Van Dijk handed him the crystal he had purchased earlier. “Take this and stay close.”

Ludwig followed Van Dijk, who moved with purpose through the ruins, his every step deliberate as if retracing paths he had walked before. The crumbled remains of the old outpost surrounded them, whispering of a time when this place thrived. Ludwig couldn’t help but glance back as they approached a narrow ravine leading out of the basin.

“This place… It’s fascinating,” Ludwig mused, walking backward to take in the overgrown structures. “It’s almost beautiful, in a way.”

Van Dijk nodded slightly, his tone becoming more contemplative. “This was once an outpost of the people of Tibari. What you see here was part of a dam that once held vast amounts of water, creating a reservoir that sustained their land. Tibari was a marvel—a rich and prosperous nation, untouched by hunger or strife. Their abundance was their strength.”

“I see, their civilization seemed advanced for the age of these stones,” Ludwig assumed which received a nod from Van Dijk.

“They were, with a land full of resources, the people of Tibari were able to live an almost perfect life. if an enemy were to be greedy and try and takeover, they would be eradicated. A rich country feeds its people and cares for them well. Which helps advance their people, if one needs not to worry about his meals he would be more productive and more desperate in trying to upkeep their peace. The nation that was once here, before Lufondal learned that the hard way when they tried to take over Tibari.” Van Dijk began explaining about nations long since gone.

“They fought and lost miserably so, but the people of Tibari didn’t seek revenge, they continued on with their lives. When a nation is well-fed and its people content, its enemies crumble before its might. Why would a dragon care if a fly were to bite its tail?” he added

Ludwig raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Then how did they fall?”

Van Dijk sighed, taking some time to think, “Internal collapse, perhaps. No one knows for sure. Their entire civilization was wiped out in a single night. No survivors, no records. Expeditions into the bog to uncover the truth have yielded little—most who venture deep either vanish or return empty-handed, or empty-headed…” Van Dijk tapped his temple with a finger. Suggesting that whoever managed to return returned in body only…

Ludwig shuddered inwardly at the thought, though his face betrayed no fear. ‘That doesn’t bode well, doesn’t that mean we too might just die?’ Ludwig thought, though he still had souls he could use to return, he wasn’t too keen on dying randomly.

After some time navigating the rocky terrain of the ravine, they emerged to a sight that was both haunting and mesmerizing. The entrance to the bog stretched out before them, a shadowy expanse of twisted willow trees standing sentinel over the mire. Their gnarled roots dug deep into the murky, stagnant water, which emitted a pungent stench of rot and decay. Thick, cloying mist swirled low to the ground, giving the illusion that the bog itself was breathing.

The sky had fully darkened by now, but neither Ludwig nor Van Dijk was hindered. One was a creature of the night, and the other needed no light to see.

Ludwig wrinkled his nonexistent nose at the pungent odor. “This place reeks. Are we really going in there?”

“For an undead you sure complain a lot,” Van Dijk smirked and snapped his fingers.

[You received the buff, Feline Grace.]

[Your movement speed has increased by 20%. You are immune to slow effects for the duration of the buff or as long as the caster is funneling mana.]

[Feline Grace is in effect; your feet will not sink into the mud nor be soiled with grime.]

Ludwig glanced down, realizing that his boots were gliding effortlessly over the muck. “Let me guess—you just didn’t want to dirty your shoes.”

“You catch on quickly,” Van Dijk replied with a grin as he strode ahead, his movements as graceful as ever.

As they pressed deeper into the bog, Ludwig noticed something odd. One of the willow trees seemed to shudder and twist, its branches swaying unnaturally. He stopped, pointing. “Is it just me, or did that tree move?”

“No, it definitely moved,” Van Dijk replied casually, not even bothering to look. “Remember, this isn’t a natural bog. Think of it as one massive, living organism…”

Ludwig frowned. “Remind me again why we’re here?”

Van Dijk leaped gracefully onto a patch of firmer ground. “The werewolf knew something about the ritualist back in Rima and the ‘immortality’ you claimed he gave to that random nobody was birthed from whatever rules these lands, and if it’s sentient it could answer some of my questions.” His voice grew colder. “Especially about that rabid mutt…”

Ludwig hesitated. “You’ve got… history with it, don’t you?”

“History?” Van Dijk’s laugh was humorless. “Call it a vendetta.” He didn’t feel like spilling out his heart to his student. They weren’t that close yet. “Just trust your teacher. That thing needs not to take another breath. Call it my Raison d’être. Also, be on your guard, we have company,” Van Dijk said

Ludwig didn’t need Van Dijk’s warning, he had an alert of his own.

[You’re in a Hostile Environment.]

The warning flashed in Ludwig’s vision as ripples spread across a stagnant pond ahead of them. The water churned and gurgled, sending small vibrations through the ground beneath their feet. A hulking form emerged, its outline barely visible through the mist.

At first, it seemed to be a crocodile, but as it fully surfaced, Ludwig’s undead heart would have skipped a beat—if he had one.

The creature was a grotesque amalgamation of limbs and appendages. Its three heads snapped at the air, their maws filled with uneven rows of jagged teeth, while dozens of writhing tentacles sprouted from its back, dripping with putrid slime. The smell intensified, stinging Ludwig’s senses.

Van Dijk cracked his neck, his eyes glowing faintly. “Looks like we’ve got company. Care to dance, Ludwig?”

“Doesn’t look like I have another option does it…” Ludwig clenched tight on his ring.