Deus Necros

“Anyone?” Ludwig turned his head slowly as he walked forward, his boots crunching over damp underbrush and broken twigs that snapped with a brittle sound beneath his steps. A faint mist clung low to the ground, curling like pale fingers around his ankles. He cast a wary glance around the stillness.

“Creepy ass shit, for real…” he muttered under his breath, voice barely more than a whisper, as though the dark woods themselves were listening. His tone was casual, but the tension in his posture betrayed the underlying unease threading through him.

There didn’t seem to be any path leading anywhere but forward. All around him, the trees towered with unnaturally long limbs, bark gnarled and mottled with pale fungus, leaves blackened like soot-stained parchment. Nothing stirred, not even a bird or insect. The silence was thick. Too thick.

“Thomas? Knight King?” he called, not stopping his stride.

“Yo,” came the abrupt, lazy reply as Thomas appeared at his side with no warning, his spectral form flickering faintly with blue light, like a reflection on rippling water.

“Oh. Guess you guys aren’t gone,” Ludwig replied with a lopsided smirk, though he didn’t hide the mild relief in his voice.

“Why should we be?” the Knight King asked, his presence manifesting just behind Thomas, regal and severe even in death.

“I mean, this illusion and all,” Ludwig said, waving vaguely at the bizarre landscape, “I thought you two wouldn’t appear.”

“This is no illusion though,” Thomas replied, his voice more serious now.

“Wait, for real?” Ludwig frowned, a faint chill prickling down his spine. Looking around this dreary place didn’t give him the feel that this was real.

“Shouldn’t you be the one in the know?” Thomas asked. “After all, you’re immune to all mental effects… you’re an undead.”

“Oh, right, right…” Ludwig muttered, scratching at the side of his jaw out of habit. “So I guess this is real…” His eyes narrowed, scanning the area more deliberately. “Where did everyone go then? Like the whole carriage is gone, and this path isn’t even the same one I was on two seconds ago…”

“That’s the wrong question,” the Knight King said solemnly, his tone heavier than usual. “The right one is, it’s not where they went, it’s where did you arrive to?”

Ludwig turned around. Slowly. The forest behind him was the same as what lay ahead dense, shadow-drenched, endless. Low bushes choked the ground, their leaves glistening with morning damp, and brambles tangled like barbed wire beneath every tree. The sun, if it was still above, had long since been swallowed by the canopy. Thin shafts of gray light filtered through in skeletal beams, cold and lifeless.

“The forest looks the same,” Ludwig said after a pause. “I suppose we’re still in the same place.”

“Yes,” said the Knight King. “Same area… but different place.”

“Also,” Thomas added, squinting into the gloom, “doesn’t feel like you’re alone.”

“Yeah,” Ludwig said quietly. His grip shifted as he pulled Oathcarver from his ring, the blade’s faint hum resonating as it tasted the air. The greatsword rested against his right shoulder, its weight comforting. Durandal rested reassuringly on his left hand, the steel gleaming in the gloom like a sliver of captured moonlight.

His eyes darted left and right. Shadows were thick, almost congealed in places, and his instincts sharpened. Whatever lay out there, if anything, wasn’t careless. And it wasn’t loud.

“Let’s keep moving,” Ludwig muttered, muscles taut beneath his regalia.

“This… witch, thing,” Thomas said cautiously, “you think she’s really what they said?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Ludwig replied. “We got kidnapped against our will. Can’t imagine someone doing that without some ulterior motive.”

“Most of those called witches…” the Knight King began, his voice slow and cold, “are merely misunderstood mages. Or those branded with the label out of spite… or Envy.”

Ludwig’s mind drifted to Earth. To stories, histories, and centuries of scapegoating. He remembered images of women bound and burned, their only crime being that they’d brewed tea with the wrong herbs or drawn water from the wrong well. Sometimes they’d simply inherited land. Or smiled too kindly at someone else’s husband.

The motivations had always been petty. Jealousy, fear, power And was needed for a life to be snuffed was say the word ‘Witch’ and there would be no trials or justice, simply the stake and the fire. His jaw tensed. If that same ugliness existed in Ikos, then “witch” could mean anything, or nothing.

Just as the thought settled in, a sound broke the silence. A breath. A single, snorting breath, deep, hollow, and too close.

Ludwig’s body stilled. His eyes slid sideways, and there, as if it had always been there, was a beast. A white and gray wolf the size of an elephant, standing beside him like a statue. He hadn’t sensed it. Hadn’t heard it approach. Hadn’t noticed the earth shift beneath its massive paws. It was just… there.

And it wasn’t alone.

Dozens more emerged from the gloom, silent and massive. Their low growls rolled through the air like thunder behind a closed door.

Ludwig’s grip on his blades tightened reflexively.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” the Knight King said softly, voice edged with warning.

“And I agree with this… fascinating spirit,” came a second voice, smooth and laced with amusement. It echoed from the path ahead.

Ludwig turned to face the source, and his eyes locked onto a figure, a woman swathed in blue and gold silks, her body veiled entirely. A transparent film of cloth covered her face, shimmering faintly with every motion. Not an inch of skin was visible. Even her hands were bandaged and gloved.

“Come, dear Undead,” she said. “Follow me.”

Ludwig didn’t move. Instead, he flicked Durandal to full length with a crisp snap, the blade catching what little light there was. He pointed it directly at her.

“That’s not something you should call others,” he said, tone laced with casual menace. “Might get others confused, you see.”

She laughed, a light, clear sound, but one that carried an unsettling weight behind it. She stepped forward.

And reality changed.