Deus Necros

The two of them took a step through the teleportation gate and, in an instant, found themselves standing before a colossal, open steel gate.

Van Dijk came to an abrupt halt, his eyes narrowing as he took in the immense, eerily pristine sight in front of him.

“Euh…” He stalled, clearly at a loss for words.

It was a city gate, towering fifty meters high, constructed of thick iron-plated steel, its sheer size exuding an almost divine impermeability. Even to someone as powerful as Van Dijk, it looked imposing—a structure built not just to defend but to ensure that whatever lay within would never be breached.

The walls stretched outward beyond their vision, ivory and white, unmarred by time, spotless in a way that shouldn’t be possible. Perfect, too perfect, as if untouched by the passage of time.

Behind them, lush, rolling fields of green stretched out as far as the eye could see. Fields of golden wheat and vibrant grass waved ever so slightly, giving off an illusion of life and abundance. It was pristine, untouched, fertile—the absolute antithesis of the cursed, desolate swamp they had left behind.

And beyond the gate?

An entire city, laid out before them in a circular, layered fashion, rising steadily upward toward a central hilltop, where, at the pinnacle of everything, sat an immaculate grand cathedral—its marble columns and polished white walls gleaming in the dim light. It wasn’t just untouched by time—it defied it.

The streets were paved with black-polished obsidian tiles, so immaculate that Ludwig could almost see his own reflection. The roads stretched in perfect symmetry, leading to districts that seemed eerily well-maintained—housing complexes, markets, even noble estates, all arranged in a way that suggested a society still functioning, still thriving.

But that wasn’t possible.

Because there was no one here.

No people, no animals, no wind to rustle the fields.

Nothing.

Just an unsettling, unnatural silence.

No voices, no laughter, no merchants haggling, no carriages rolling down the streets. Not even the distant caw of a crow.

It was like standing inside a preserved corpse of a kingdom, untouched by decay, yet undeniably dead.

Ludwig took a slow step forward, his foot tapping against the ground, the sound echoing too loudly for a place that was supposed to be a functioning city.

“What… the hell… is this?” Ludwig muttered.

“Beats me.” Van Dijk folded his arms, scanning the eerily pristine surroundings. “You’re the one that fixed the gate.”

Ludwig frowned. “Are we sure this is even the same place?”

Van Dijk exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple.

“The teleportation gate should have taken us closer to the heart of the bog… but this?” He gestured at the pristine city before them. “This wasn’t here before. Not in any records. No expedition has ever spoken of a citadel at the center of the bog—only monsters, corruption, and the thing that rules over them all.

This—” he gestured at the untouched structures, the ghostly, immaculate emptiness—”was never mentioned.”

A cold feeling crept up Ludwig’s spine.

“So, what do we do?” Ludwig asked, already not liking where this was going.

Van Dijk smirked slightly. “Normally? I’d leave immediately and return with a full-fledged war party.”

Ludwig sighed in relief. “Then—”

“But this is too damn interesting to pass up,” Van Dijk said, already stepping forward.

Ludwig groaned internally but followed.

As they crossed the threshold of the towering gate, the sensation was immediate.

[You have entered the Dwelling of Hunger dungeon.]

[You are the first to enter this dungeon in 100 years—All rewards will be enhanced.]

[Soul gain doubled inside this dungeon!]

[This dungeon is ruled by a Usurper of Death: Gluttonous Death.]

[Your Death Point has been set to Dungeon Entrance.]

[Quest Activated: Clear the Dwelling of Hunger]

Rewards: Audience with the Inevitable.

Failing to complete the Dungeon has no punishments.

Quest Difficulty: ☠☠☠☠☠☠☠☠☠☠

Ludwig felt his soul leave his body for a second.

Ten. Skulls.

This was not a dungeon they were supposed to be inside.

His eyes flicked up to Van Dijk, but his master was completely oblivious to the messages flashing before Ludwig’s eyes.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Van Dijk asked.

Ludwig hesitated. How the hell was he supposed to explain any of this?

“…Ah, I was just admiring the sights,” Ludwig lied.

Van Dijk raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment further. He strode forward, stepping into the silent city, and Ludwig had no choice but to follow.

The City of Silence

The deafening stillness followed them as they walked deeper into the streets.

Everything was spotless, perfectly aligned, meticulously placed.

“…Who the hell cleans all this?” Ludwig muttered.

“Good question.” Van Dijk’s gaze flicked around, searching for anything out of place. “No matter how well-kept a city is, this is too clean for there to be no one tending to it.”

And just as the words left his mouth—

Something moved.

A scraping, grating noise echoed from a nearby alleyway.

Van Dijk immediately signaled Ludwig to be silent, motioning for him to stay behind as he stepped ahead. He peered around the corner—

And froze.

Ludwig moved to stand beside him, glancing at what had stopped Van Dijk in his tracks.

There, standing in the alley, was a man.

Or… what was left of one.

Emaciated, lifeless, his skin stretched too tightly over brittle bones. His eyes were hollow, staring ahead with a dead, vacant gaze.

But his clothes…

They were immaculate.

He wore a pressed uniform, a clean hat, and spotless white gloves.

And in his skeletal hands, he clutched a broom, methodically sweeping the already pristine ground—over and over, as if compelled by an unseen force.

The man moved toward them, dragging the broom across the obsidian pavement. Van Dijk’s hand twitched, ready to incinerate whatever this thing was at the first sign of hostility—

But then…

He stopped.

Right in front of them.

And just stood there. Motionless.

Ludwig felt a shiver—not of fear, but of sheer, unnatural wrongness.

“…Master.” His voice was low. “Maybe we should… step back.”

Van Dijk didn’t argue. They both took a few slow steps away—

And the moment they did, the creature simply resumed sweeping.

As if nothing had happened.

Ludwig’s mind raced. Not hostile. Not a monster. Just… mindless.

Another door creaked open from a house nearby.

A second figure emerged, carrying a wooden table, which it methodically carried across the street, setting it down in front of another empty house before disappearing inside.

More and more of them appeared as they walked through the city.

Creatures in spotless uniforms, setting plates onto empty tables, waiting at empty stalls, polishing untouched windows.

They never spoke.

They never acknowledged each other.

They simply worked, their bodies moving through the motions of a society that no longer existed.

Van Dijk’s jaw tightened. “This is… unsettling.”

Ludwig exhaled slowly, gripping his sword.

“This feels like a city of the dead.”

“No, been there—even a city of the dead is livelier than this. Quite ironic,” Van Dijk muttered, though there was no amusement in his voice.

The two of them continued walking through the eerily pristine streets, undisturbed, unhindered, and most notably, untouched by any form of hostility. Not a single attack.

Ludwig found that unsettling. Extremely so…