Deus Necros

The crescent moon hung heavy over Bastos Manor, Ludwig stood before the boarded-up exit, the ancient wood groaning in the night wind. His enhanced undead vision cut through the darkness easily, revealing every splintered plank and rusted nail holding the manor’s door together.

Thomas’s spectral form flickered into existence beside him. “I don’t think this would be a wise idea,” he warned, his voice echoing strangely in the still night air.

Ludwig flexed his fingers, the newly reinforced bones creaking slightly. “Why so?” His breath formed no fog in the cold air – one of the few reminders that his body no longer functioned as a living man’s.

“Don’t you need this place as a safe spot?” Thomas drifted closer to the decaying wood. “If you tear open the door and monsters come in…” His glow pulsed with unease as distant screeches echoed from somewhere in the March.

Ludwig hesitated, his glowing blue eyes scanning upward along the manor’s ivy-choked stone facade. The red moonlight reflected off patches of slime still clinging to his exposed forearms where the Rat Lord’s claws had torn through his robes. “You’re right,” he conceded after a moment. “But there’s another way.”

With practiced ease, he detached his scythe and clamped its base to the chain coiled around his forearm. The metal links gleamed dully in the crimson light as he activated [Sentient Snake]. The blade shot upward with a metallic hiss, its curved edge biting deep into the wooden windowsill fifteen feet above with a solid thunk that sent a shower of rotted wood fragments drifting down like morbid snow.

Ludwig tugged twice on the chain – once to test its hold, then again to begin his ascent. The links whirred as they reeled him upward, his boots scraping against the manor’s weathered stone.

When he reached the window, he braced one foot against the wall and tore at the planks with his free hand. The ancient wood gave way easily, splintering in his enhanced grip. He made just enough space to squeeze through, careful not to leave an opening large enough for anything substantial to follow.

The drop to the ground outside was short, but Ludwig landed with catlike grace, his enhanced muscles absorbing the impact effortlessly. The familiar scent of dust, dirt and decay filled his nostrils – oddly comforting after the fetid air of the dungeon.

[Death Point Updated]

[Bastos Manor’s Front Yard]

The notification hung in the air for a moment before another appeared, the red text pulsing ominously:

[You’re in a hostile environment]

Ludwig’s undead senses prickled before as he looked around. Something was wrong. The usual quiet of the abandoned manor had been replaced by a subtle, skittering rustle in the yard, low hanging trees, and bushes as tall as a man; they all seemed almost alive. His grip tightened on his weapon as he stared at the garden.

Then he saw them.

At first, just two pinpricks of crimson light between the leaves. Then two more. And two more. Until the entire garden seemed alive with them – dozens of pairs of glowing red eyes, all fixed hungrily on his position. The moonlight caught glimpses of leathery wings and twitching claws as the creatures moved closer.

Ludwig didn’t need to get closer to know what awaited him. He inspected the nearest creature.

[Inspect]

***

[Mutated Werebat]

Level 60

HP: 60,000

Damage: 1200-1300

Tier: Uncommon

Status effects: [Mutation] [Rageful] [Red Moon Curse]

Skills:

[Blood Leech]: If they lock their jaws onto their prey, they’ll absorb 2% of the prey’s HP into their own.

[Eviscerating Claws]: The Werebat’s claws cause evisceration and laceration. Blood from these wounds cannot be stopped by normal means.

[Soundless Destruction]: The Werebat can release a powerful yet silent soundwave that inflicts [Nausea], [Shock], and [Stun].

Lore:

A mutated bat cursed by a mysterious dark power, twisted into a grotesque fusion of man and beast. These creatures emerged when the Red Moon first appeared in the Bastos March. They crave the blood of the living, and though not the strongest predators in the region, they are the most numerous.

***

The nearest Werebat pressed forward its grotesque features now fully visible in the moonlight. Its face was a nightmare fusion of rodent and swine – a rat-like snout ending in a pig’s upturned nostrils, all centered around a circular, lamprey-like mouth lined with concentric rings of needle teeth. The eyes were worst of all: perfectly spherical red orbs that reflected the moonlight with unnatural intensity, seeming to stare directly into Ludwig’s soul.

Its body was awkward on land, the leathery wings stretching from elongated fingers down to its ankles making it look like a flightless abomination. It moved on all fours, the size of a large dog, its claws clicking against the stone path as it shuffled closer.

And there were many of them. Too many. The entire garden writhed with their movements, their numbers impossible to count in the shifting shadows.

“Shit,” Ludwig muttered, backing away from the creatures for a bit “I unsummoned the rats in the dungeon since they were useless against the boss…”

“And you don’t have any usable summons in the Codex,” Thomas added, his glow flickering nervously.

“The Umbral Hound is still silent,” Ludwig said, testing the weight of his scythe. The chain coiled around his forearm felt alive with potential energy. “But I think it’s fine.”

Thomas’s glow dimmed in disbelief. “Fine? How is this fine? That’s an army of bloodsucking monsters out there!”

Ludwig smirked, rolling his newly enhanced shoulders. The muscles there still ached from his recent [Limit Break], but it was a good pain. “Because the Knight King hasn’t said anything yet.”

As if summoned by the challenge, the tiny armored specter materialized, his usual imposing presence somewhat diminished by his current palm-sized form. He surveyed the gathering horde with a bored disdainful gaze “They’re just bats,” he scoffed. “Stop dithering and fight.”

With that vote of confidence, Ludwig moved.

His chain lashed out like a living thing, the links twisting mid-air with a will of their own to wrap around the nearest Werebat’s scrawny neck. A sharp tug sent the creature flapping uselessly as it hurtled toward him. Ludwig’s scythe met it mid-air, the curved blade burying itself deep in the monster’s distended belly with a wet schlick.

-16,000! Critical!

Black ichor sprayed across Ludwig’s face as the Werebat shrieked, its clawed hands scrabbling at the embedded weapon. With a brutal twist, Ludwig transformed the scythe back into a sword mid-wound, then yanked upward with both arms. The chain around the creature’s neck pulled taut as the blade carved through ribs and organs, culminating in a shower of gore as the Werebat split nearly in two.

[Mortal Wound! (Execution)]

[You have slain Werebat (Level 60)]

[Received: Corrupted Soul x1]

[Obtained: Werebat’s Fang]

The remaining creatures reacted instantly. Dozens of grotesque mouths opened in unison, unleashing their [Soundless Destruction]. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the force of their collective scream, a pressure wave that would have liquefied a normal man’s organs and shattered his mind.

[As an Undead, you are immune to: Stun, Daze, Nausea]

Ludwig didn’t even flinch. The psychic assault washed over him like a mild breeze, barely ruffling his tattered robes. He wiped Werebat blood from his face with the back of his hand, the dark fluid streaking across his now-less-decayed features. His grin widened, revealing teeth that were still slightly too sharp to be human.

“My turn.”

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