Deus Necros

[Your Death Point has been saved! Current Death Point: Adventurer Guild’s HQ.]

A soft chime echoed in Ludwig’s mind as the notification unfurled before his eyes, the blue lines of system text glimmering faintly against the backdrop of chaos growing outside the guild’s thick stone walls. The letters shimmered with unnatural stillness, undisturbed by the tremors rattling the ground beneath his boots.

Eternal Quest Update!

Urgent Quest

Shared Quest

Quest Giver: Necros and The Pantheon of the Holy Order

The screen pulsed once, like a heartbeat, then stretched open into a massive web of cascading lines, wrapping Ludwig’s vision in information, foreboding and strangely reverent, like a choir whispering in the dark.

[The former apostles of Necros, the betrayers, have attacked the Capital City of Tulmud.

The Pantheon of the Holy Order is requesting Necros to use his current apostle to help their believers in surviving the treacherous apostles’ assault.]

Ludwig’s eyes narrowed as the final lines etched themselves across his view.

Main Quest: Descending Wrath

The Treacherous Fanged Apostle has appeared in the city along with an item that can beckon the Wrathful Death’s presence to the Capital.

The Wrathful Death is locked in Solania in his physical form, unable to leave the mountain range. However, the Treacherous Fanged Apostle has found a way to bypass that and manifest him directly.

Quest Objective: Do not allow the Wrath Core in Celine Bastos to go out of control completely.

Optional: Stop the Treacherous Fanged Apostle from reaching 10,000 sacrifices needed to summon the Wrathful Death.

Optional Quest: [Peace and Piety]

Necros is unwilling to force their current apostle into a battle they have no need to fight.

However, the Pantheon of the Holy Order is willing to gift a Shard of Darkness for each defeated former apostle of Necros.

Current Apostles in the Capital of Tulmud:

The Treacherous Fanged Apostle – [The Werewolf]

Sister Gallows – [The Shrike]

Apostle of Soundless Melody – [The Pied Piper]

The Marrow King – [???]

The shimmer faded into silence. Ludwig stood still, breath momentarily caught in his throat. His fingers, cold despite the warmth of the guild’s air, slowly clenched into a fist.

Across the room, the Guildmaster, now standing tall behind his desk, loomed over the papers scattered by the rising vibrations. His thick brows furrowed with concern, lips pressing into a grim line as he squinted through the window. The golden light of day had twisted, muddied by the distant smoke that curled into the sky like accusing fingers.

“What in the name of the Four is going on?” the man muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His tone lacked its usual gravel, it was fraught with something unspoken. A shadow of dread.

Ludwig took one long step forward, the leather of his boots whispering against the polished floor. “They’re here.”

The Guildmaster turned sharply, eyes fixed on him. “They?” The word came sharp, cut with disbelief. “It’s more than just one?”

A faint nod. “Seems like it.”

“I need to go,” Ludwig said, already turning to the door.

“Wait!” The Guildmaster’s voice boomed louder this time, rough with authority, but underneath it, an edge of fear. “You’re too young! If it’s something like the Shrike…You’ll die. This, this isn’t something you should be handling.” His large frame moved behind the desk, hands rummaging hastily through a side drawer until he retrieved a thickly folded piece of parchment.

He slammed it flat on the wood, the map unrolling partially as though unwilling to reveal its secrets. “Here. This is a layout of the city’s evacuation bunkers, fortified shelters from old war days. Go. Hide. Wait for the situation to calm down.”

Ludwig’s gaze drifted to the aged parchment. The ink was old but precise, the kind only military scribes could draw. He stared at it for a heartbeat too long, then raised his eyes to meet the Guildmaster’s.

A tilt of his head. Quiet, unimpressed.

The Guildmaster grunted. “Kid…” he sighed, exasperated. “I told you earlier. Just because you’re S-rank doesn’t mean you’re immortal. Don’t throw yourself into your own grave.”

“This isn’t just about me,” Ludwig replied, a lie… he already had a quest he needed to do. His voice, though level, rang with something heavier, conviction, or perhaps weariness, as he became far more proficient in making himself sound grimmer and more serious. Another boom echoed through the air, shaking dust from the ceiling above them. “The whole city’s in terror. That’s enough reason.”

The older man hesitated. His hands rested heavily on the desk, thick fingers splayed. “I respect your dedication. Then at least… help with the evacuations,” he said, quieter now. “The Holy Order and the Hero should be enough to handle the real threat.”

Ludwig’s lips twitched into a small, humorless smile. “Yeah… I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

After all, if they were capable of handling this, the Four gods of the Holy Church would never ’lower’ themselves to ask a favor from Necros.

He took the map anyway and gave the man a short nod before turning and pushing the door open. A rush of warmer air met him, the heat of fear, panic, fire. The distant smell of burning thatch and wood filtered in faintly.

He descended the stairs swiftly, footfalls joined by Redd’s quickening pace behind him. The bandit’s usual swagger had long since drained, replaced by tight-lipped worry and twitching eyes. Celine followed, calm, but her silence was like a blade, sharp and calculating.

Once outside, the guild doors slammed behind them. The streets were chaos made flesh. Screams pierced the air, echoing between stone walls like wails from a thousand lost souls. Smoke twisted in plumes above buildings now partially alight, the acrid stench of soot and panic thick enough to sting the lungs.

People ran with nowhere to run, bodies crashed against each other like panicked deer trapped in a cage. A mother cried out for her child. An old man stumbled, forgotten by the crowd as it surged like a wave down the street. The world was unraveling at the seams.

Looking at the massive smoke pillars rising from the four directions of the city, the bandit spoke.

“The gates of the city are burning,” his voice low.

“They’re probably locking the exits and entry points,” Ludwig murmured back. His gaze lifted, sharp, calculating. From their vantage point near the upper tiers of the city, they could see beyond the rooftops. Toward the great plaza. Toward the teleportation gate.

It should have shone. Even in daylight, the arcane circle usually pulsed faintly with runic light.

Now, it was dark.

Dead.

“This reminds me of Mira,” Ludwig muttered.

“Mira?” Redd asked, glancing toward him. “The city that was attacked by those Sand Kingdom terrorists? You were there?”

Ludwig nodded once. “Even you heard the news, huh?” His voice tightened. “Yeah. I was there. They sealed that city shut. No way in, no way out.”

“Look up,” Celine said, voice softer, distant but not any less serious.

And so they did.

Above them stretched a dome, a massive barrier of pale lavender light, spanning from horizon to horizon like a sky of mourning glass. It shimmered faintly, distorting the clouds behind it.

Ludwig’s jaw tensed.

Celine spoke “That’s a teleportation block… Even private gates won’t work now. No one in. No one out.”

“They really shut the whole place down…” Redd murmured, brows furrowed. “This is serious.”

Another explosion thundered in the distance, shaking loose more screams and sending birds flying like shattered black glass into the sky.

And then came the worst one yet.

It wasn’t just a bang, it was a roar of annihilation, tearing through the air with such force it rattled the bones in Ludwig’s chest. The earth beneath them shook as debris flew high into the air, stone, metal, bloodied cloth, ejecting like shrapnel from the upper part of the city.

Near the Royal Palace. It was the destruction of the arena.

All of it shuddered, then fractured before their eyes.

Stone cracked. Pillars collapsed. The colosseum, once the centerpiece of Tulmud’s festival, was crumbling into itself. With only god know how many unfortunate people that went to watch the Hero’s companions trying to claim a seat at the hero party. Now it turned to a real nightmare.

A voice echoed then, high-pitched and filled with desperation, carried by the city’s amplification runes.

“To all civilians, this is not a drill! Please head to the nearest shelter centers! I repeat, this is not a drill, please head to the nearest shelter center!”

It then cut off far too abruptly at that too.

And after that silence, too brief to be real, another voice came through.

A soft, wet and skin crawling voice.

It dripped with glee as it spoke. A vile, nauseating glee.

“Please do head there. It is hard enough to herd you one by one. Might as well kill you all at once, gathered together like cattle…”

The voice cracked into laughter.

And then that, too, cut out.

Ludwig stood still. His breath shallow. The hairs along the back of his neck stood upright.

Redd blinked slowly. “The hell is going on in this damned city…”