Deus Necros

The change came violently.

One moment Ludwig stood anchored by death, hollowed out in the precise, merciless way only undeath allowed. His thoughts had been sharp, edges clean and defined, emotions distant enough to be tools rather than burdens. Then the connection snapped, and life came crashing back into him without apology.

His heart lurched, seizing hard before hammering into motion, each beat painfully loud as if his chest were too small to contain it. Breath tore into his lungs in a ragged gasp, air burning as it flooded passages that had not needed it moments before. The sensation was wrong and right at the same time. Like a dried river finally filling again and with it all matter of mud and stone came crashing down. Too full. Too heavy. The world pressed in on him from all sides, weight returning to his limbs, gravity no longer something he ignored but something that demanded to be acknowledged.

Warmth followed. Real warmth. Blood surged through vessels that now mattered again, dragging sensation with it like barbed wire. Pain bloomed where there had been none. Muscles trembled, complaining loudly about strain they had endured without protest seconds earlier. Joints ached, not from injury, but from the simple indignity of being alive and limited again.

The [Living Vessel] had reclaimed him completely.

Ludwig clenched his jaw and flexed his fingers, watching them move with faint irritation. Skin stretched. Tendons pulled. Nerves fired in messy, overlapping signals. Everything worked, rolled his shoulders, feeling balance creep back in, the subtle drag of fatigue already whispering at the edges of his awareness.

“Shit,” he muttered, the word scraping out of his throat as much in frustration as in pain.

The aura that had once clung to him, thick and oppressive, was gone entirely. No pressure weighed down the air around him now. No darkness bent the world in his favor. He stood exposed again, alive in the most inconvenient way possible.

His eyes swept across the battlefield, taking in the aftermath with a detached irritation that barely masked his annoyance. The land itself looked offended. Stone had split and folded like soft clay under a careless hand. The earth was blackened and warped, veins of corrupted energy still faintly visible beneath the surface like bruises that had yet to fade. Even the air felt heavy, as though reality itself was still struggling to settle back into a shape it recognized.

While the river which feared him moment ago seemed to once again crawl with Souls that were washed in filth of vile emotions once more.

Necros had made his choice.

The realization settled into Ludwig with a bitter calm.

’Necros fucked me over.’

The thought came sharp and unfiltered as his mind replayed the plan he had been assembling since the moment Envy had shown herself. It had been clean. Elegant, even. Die deliberately using [Termination]. Reset his position. Remove witnesses. Lure the Usurper away from the Yellow River and kill her properly, without collateral, without politics, without anyone else needing to understand why the act had to be done.

It would have kept the world simpler.

’I was supposed to die,’ he thought grimly. ’Take myself out of the equation before things got messy.’

But Necros had not cared.

One Usurper dead was all that mattered. Reputation, consequence, perception, none of it held weight next to that singular result. Ludwig’s jaw tightened as the implications settled in. There would be no clean exit now. No quiet reset. Whatever came next would have to be handled while standing very much alive in the middle of it.

“This is going to suck,” he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

The voice that answered him did not travel through the air, but in thought and resounded inside Ludwig’s mind.

“Ludwig, what are you planning now?”

The Knight King’s presence brushed against his mind with practiced clarity, the words forming without sound, calm and grounded as ever. There was no alarm in the tone, but there was understanding. He had felt the shift. He knew exactly what the revelation of undeath meant.

“For now,” Ludwig replied mentally, keeping his expression neutral, “go back into the book. I’ll sort this out.”

Notifications clawed at the edges of his awareness, stacking insistently. Rewards. Titles. Skills. Consequences. He shoved them aside without mercy. Information could wait. Survival and damage control could not.

The Knight King did not argue.

His massive form began to unravel, not with weakness, but with intent. Heavy armor fractured into drifting motes of darkness that rose as if pulled by an unseen current. His silhouette broke apart piece by piece, limbs dissolving into black mist that curled and thinned until it scattered entirely. What remained was not absence, but the lingering weight of something immense choosing to withdraw. Only Ludwig’s sword stood where the Knight King was. Durandal void of its Wrathful Aura was all that remained.

Ludwig grabbed it and put it back inside his ring. Hopefully he won’t need to use it to silence unwanted witnesses. It’ll come with worse problems than the fact that his dark magic was exposed.

Reality wasted no time intruding.

Tull straightened abruptly, as if yanked upright by an invisible hand. The emaciation Envy had forced upon him vanished in an instant. Color rushed back into his skin. Muscle surged beneath flesh as stolen vitality snapped back into place, filling him with sudden, violent strength. He drew in a sharp breath, chest expanding fully as his body reasserted itself.

Steel rang out.

His claymore came up in a smooth, practiced motion, blade leveled straight at Ludwig’s chest. He stepped forward without hesitation, placing himself squarely between Ludwig and the prince. His grip was tight, both hands locked around the hilt. His stance was flawless, weight balanced, legs set for immediate movement. There was no fear in his posture, only discipline and intent.

“What?” Ludwig asked, tilting his head slightly.

The mace rested against his shoulder, casual enough to be insulting. He made no effort to raise it or lower it, simply watched Tull with mild curiosity.

“That was dark magic,” Tull said, his voice steady but hard. “You can’t fool me.” He affirmed his knowledge and understanding.

A faint flicker of amusement crossed Ludwig’s face. “Ah. So you saw it.”

“You’re not denying it?” Tull pressed, knuckles whitening as his grip tightened.

“What would be the point?” Ludwig replied evenly. “It was a tool. I used it to kill something that was about to kill all of us.”

The prince’s voice cut in, strained but controlled, urging restraint. “Calm down Tull…”

Tull bristled, ready to argue, “But sir!”

Alex stopped him again, “Remember… this is not the empire” Alex said. reminding him where they stood. Not in the empire. Not under its laws.

What does that mean? “Tull asked.

“Use your head,” Redd jumped in, “There are no rules against using Dark Magic outside the empire, not to mention it saved our asses. Stop being a hypocrite man. You said it yourself remember? You’d use dark magic if you had to save his highness, why the hubris now?”

Redd added his own blunt assessment, pointing out the obvious hypocrisy in condemning the very thing that had kept them breathing.

Tull snapped back “I would have done the same, but still accepted punishment for such an act. That is dark magic for crying out loud!”

Ludwig let out a short, humorless breath at that. “Admirable,” he said flatly. “Unfortunately, I’m not one of your knights. And unless you’ve forgotten, your empire already branded me a traitor. Why exactly should I care about its laws?”

The words landed hard.

Tull had no answer. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, jaw tightening as the reality settled in. If Ludwig chose to turn against the empire with the power he had just demonstrated, it would not be rebellion. It would be annihilation.

“Don’t antagonize him, so far I haven’t seen anything done by Ludwig that threatens the empire.” Prince Alex said. Alex moved quickly to de-escalate, making it clear that Ludwig had not acted against imperial interests. Tull exhaled slowly, tension bleeding from his shoulders.

“Feels like I’m the bad guy here…”

“If you keep being strong headed then yes. You’re complaining about surviving death. I’d be thankful and move on, still, what are you going to do with that?” Redd asked.

Ludwig turned his gaze to the fallen head of Envy. Even in death, it radiated a faint, unpleasant pressure, like a grudge that refused to dissipate. Before he could decide otherwise, a notification forced itself into focus, impossible to ignore.

[Claim the Eyes of Envy!]

“Fine,” Ludwig muttered.

He stepped closer and reached down.

The jeweled eyes vanished instantly, not into his hand, but into him.

Agony detonated behind his eyes. Ludwig staggered half a step as heat flooded his skull, vision exploding into white and violet streaks. It felt like molten glass had been poured directly into his eye sockets, like something ancient and resentful was being hammered into place where his sight lived. He hissed through clenched teeth, bracing one hand against his knee as his body tensed, muscles locking in reflexive response to the pain.

Seconds stretched, the burning sensation relentless before slowly, mercifully beginning to recede.

He drew in a deep breath, then another, forcing his body to steady.

Knowledge followed.

Heavy. Uncomfortable. Dangerous.

***

[You have Obtained Eyes of Envy]

[You have obtained the Passive skill:

Name: {Baleful Equilibrium}

Rating: Mythic

{Baleful Equilibrium}: When Facing an opponent whose total combat capability exceeds yours, the Eyes of Envy imposes a forced balance for a brief duration lasting 120 seconds.

All excess stats, blessing buffs, divine favors, and conceptual advantages are suppressed.

Suppression scales with the disparity.

Cannot activate if you are superior or equal.

Ends immediately if you gain the upper hand in battle.

Lore:

Envy does not desire power. It desires imbalance. It does not want what others have, it wants others to suffer for having it. Envy is not hunger. Envy is resentment given form.

It can only exist where comparison exists, it can neither attack bodies or minds, but only context and reality. It cannot elevate the lesser, it only drags the greater down and corrodes itself in the process.

It was never the desire to rise, but the refusal to let others stand… it does not end suffering but it makes it equal.

***

The meaning of the power settled into him with disturbing clarity, and his expression darkened as he grasped its implications. This was no blunt instrument like Wrath. This was subtle. Contextual. A weapon that did not elevate the weak but dragged the strong down, forcing balance through corrosion rather than growth.

’Looks much simpler than what I got from wrath… but the implication of such a power is a bit…dangerous… this a leveling the playing field ability… no wonder Envy couldn’t abuse it, she was stronger than us, and because of that we won… if she was any weaker and used this to its full potential…” Ludwig didn’t even want to finish the thought.

’Not to mention…She envied wrong… She gave up the Evangelic Exoskeleton, rigidness for Living Vessel which can grow… but the mistake she did… was envying downward in panic. Tull’s body was too weak. And that’s what caused her demise, if it was somewhere else, somewhere where she could have envied something like the hero or Titania… I don’t even want to think about that either…’

The air around him shifted. The world seemed to hesitate, taking on a faint purple hue that bled into the edges of vision. Instinctively, everyone around him took a step back.

“Fuck, did it take over? Those are the same purple eyes!” Tull swore, alarm sharp in his voice as he pointed out the resemblance to Envy’s eyes.

Ludwig closed his own slowly.

The burning sensation faded completely. When he opened them again, the color was gone. The world snapped back into focus, clear and sharp, entirely his own.

“It didn’t take over,” he said quietly, voice steady despite the weight of what he now carried.

He looked at the others, at their unease, at the distance that had already begun to form.

“There’s something we need to talk about,” Ludwig said.

This time, no one interrupted.