Deus Necros

“WHOOOOOOOOAAAA!!!”

The arena erupted into a deafening roar of cheers as the clash between Ludwig and Haku finally concluded. The battle had been nothing short of epic, a spectacle of raw power, skill, and determination that left the audience breathless. The finale, with its explosive collision of swords and the shattering of Haku’s blade, was a moment that would be etched into the memories of everyone present. It was a battle for the academy to speak of for many years to come, and the crowd couldn’t contain their excitement.

Ludwig turned to Haku, his sword still in hand, his expression a mix of admiration and respect. “Are you sure you’re done?” he asked, his voice steady despite the chaos around them.

For Ludwig this battle felt too short, he too wanted to have more, fight more, and express his own strength some more.

Haku, his aura now fading, gave a small, satisfied smile. “Yeah,” he said, his tone calm but tinged with a hint of awe. “I feel like I need to go and meditate before some of this… enlightenment escapes me.” He bent down and picked up the broken fragment of his sword, holding it gently as if it were a precious relic. With a final glance at Ludwig, he turned and began to walk away.

As he passed the group of second-year students, he paused for a moment. “I’d guarantee you,” he said, his voice carrying across the arena, “that none of you can beat him. You might as well just give up.” The words hung in the air, heavy with truth, as Haku continued his descent from the arena.

The second-year students exchanged uneasy glances. One of them, a tall, broad-shouldered boy, scoffed. “What is he saying?” he muttered, his voice laced with disbelief. “Ludwig should clearly be exhausted after that.” He turned to look at Ludwig, who stood tall and unwavering in the center of the arena. There wasn’t a single bead of sweat on his body, no sign of fatigue despite the scars and wounds that marred his form. He looked as though he could fight for hours more.

“God damn monster…” one of the second years cursed out.

The teachers, who had intervened briefly during the clash, now smiled at Ludwig and left the arena, their expressions a mix of pride and relief. Olim stepped forward, addressing the audience. “We apologize for the sudden interruption,” he said, his voice booming through the arena. “The display of aura that Haku showed will be recorded in history. Achieving aura at the young age of twenty-one is a remarkable feat. Congratulations, Haku. Despite losing this match, you have gained something even more precious. You brought great honor to your family and to the Black Tower academy that helped nurture you. Please continue on your path, as for the rest of us; the fights are still ongoing! So let the matches continue!”

Joana, who had followed Haku off the arena, seemed to be imparting some wisdom to him. She glanced back at Ludwig occasionally, her smile warm and approving. Haku, now holding the broken pieces of his sword, listened intently, his expression one of deep contemplation. He had found his “Heart,” and the journey ahead would be one of growth and discovery.

Ludwig, meanwhile, stood solemnly in the arena, his sword resting at his side. The weight of the battle still lingered, but there was no time to rest. The next challenger was already stepping forward, emboldened by the belief that Ludwig must be exhausted.

‘God, this feels awkward,’ Ludwig thought as the crowd’s eyes remained fixed on him. He took a moment to glance at the notifications that had popped up earlier.

[Cursed Sword-Scythe of Durandal has been partially unsealed!]

[You have achieved one of the hidden conditions to Unlock some of Durandal’s weight.]

[Condition is as follows… As an Undead, exert the maximum power that your body can release and some more in a sword clash. Weight unsealed. 50Kg.]

[Weight of the World-] Unlocked a portion of Durandal’s power. You’re able to convert your Strength Stat points into additional weight whenever you swing your weapon. Currently, you’re able to convert 10% of your strength into a multiplier to the maximum weight of the Sword shard.]

[Maximum weight per blow: 540Kg]

Ludwig’s mind raced as he processed the information.

‘Since my strength stat is at 108, the math seems to fit. But if I were to swing a half-tonne of weight around, I’d be flung around with my own sword. But since it was only momentarily that my weapon gained that weight, it was the reason Haku’s sword broke.’

He looked down at his weapon, a sense of awe washing over him. ‘The fact that this is broken would make one shudder… what kind of monster was able to use the full weight of this thing?’

He didn’t have time to dwell on it further. The next challenger had already stepped into the arena, his confidence radiating as he introduced himself. “I’m known as the best tank of the second year,” the boy declared, his voice brimming with pride. “They call me Tavi the Wall!” He held up a metallic kite shield and a light longsword, his stance solid and unyielding.

“Sure,” Ludwig replied, his tone calm but laced with a hint of amusement. He waited for Olim to start the match.

“Let the round begin!” Olim called, his voice cutting through the tension.

Tavi wasted no time. “Bulwark! Platinum Defense!” he shouted, his shield glowing with magical infusions and intricate circles. The air around him seemed to solidify, making him appear as immovable as a boulder. With his shield raised, he charged at Ludwig, his movements deliberate and powerful.

Ludwig didn’t dodge. He didn’t use his chains to outmaneuver the shield, nor did he resort to magic to blast Tavi away. Instead, he decided to meet the “Wall” head-on, his sword raised high.

“If an immovable object meets an unstoppable force, who do you think would win?” Ludwig asked, his voice calm as Tavi closed the distance.

“I guess you’ll never know, since you’re not immovable.”