Deus Necros

The forest around the carriage was quiet now, eerily so. The mist had thinned to a languid drift, and moonlight filtered between the skeletal branches like silver gauze. Ludwig and his companions continued along the broken path, the wheels of the carriage occasionally creaking over uneven roots or scattering loose stones. Inside, the air was heavy with thought.

The interior spatial magic of the carriage still flickered faintly, like a dying hearth trying to stay lit. Every so often, the lighting would blink, an unnatural dimming, followed by a brief hum of correction. But it held, and the vehicle moved forward without major disruption.

Timur sat across from Ludwig, arms folded, head tilted in contemplation. His brows were furrowed, not with anger, but something deeper, worry, perhaps. Or calculation.

Melisande was tending to Gorak in the seat beside her, carefully rolling back his leather chest harness to reveal a massive, angry bruise along the ribs. She pressed her palm against it, whispering something low, and a soft light pulsed from beneath her fingers.

“C’mon, Gorak,” she said gently, tying off the bandage with practiced grace. “No one expected something like that monster to show up. Stop sulking.”

The barbarian looked down at his hands, scarred and calloused. He clenched them once. “It’s…” he hesitated, then spoke in a quieter voice than usual. “I didn’t expect him to be that strong.”

“None of us did,” Ludwig said. His voice was calm, but it carried weight. “Apostles are like that. They’re not normal enemies.”

“Speaking of apostles…” Timur finally said, his gaze sharpening. “He mentioned that you were one too.”

Ludwig didn’t answer right away.

“So you heard it…” he murmured after a moment.

“What does that mean?” Robin’s voice came from the coachman’s window, his face barely visible in the reflection of moonlight on the pane. “If you don’t mind sharing.”

Ludwig drew in a slow breath. The air in the cabin was still, even the wheels beneath them muffled by the moss-laced dirt road.

“What I’m about to tell you,” Ludwig said at last, “might sound a bit crazy.”

The silence that followed wasn’t dismissive, it was full of listening. Every eye was on Ludwig now. Even Robin, though partially obscured behind the wood frame of the window, leaned closer, one gloved hand resting on the edge of the sill, his breath faint against the glass.

“I’m basically,” Ludwig said, his voice slower now, cautious, as though weighing every word against the patience of his companions, “a god’s envoy. Necros, to be exact…”

Timur blinked once. Melisande’s hands froze just as she finished tying off Gorak’s bandages. Even the barbarian, still rubbing the edge of his bruised chest, turned toward Ludwig with a slow, skeptical expression.

“Did you eat something wrong?” Timur asked dryly, a single brow raised in disbelief.

Ludwig exhaled and leaned back slightly, his arms crossed. “I guessed as much. No one would believe it…”

“No, no,” Timur said, shaking his head, “it’s not about believing. It’s that… it’s impossible for that to be a fact.”

Ludwig frowned, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “Why?” he asked. “What do you mean by that?”

Timur’s voice was calm, almost clinical as he answered, “Every god of Ikos has their own circle. You know this. The four main gods of the Holy Order, they have temples, clergy, entire orders. Then there’s the Elven Demon god, the Dwarven Steel Lord, the Barbarian’s Silent Guardian… and a handful of weaker ones clinging to fading bloodlines.”

He looked Ludwig in the eye. “But Necros? He never had followers. Never had churches. Whenever someone claimed to serve him… well, they didn’t last long enough to gather more.”

Melisande shifted in her seat. Her expression was measured, but her voice was quiet, touched with an uneasiness that didn’t quite reach panic. “You don’t mean that Necros doesn’t exist? He was well recorded in the Holy Order’s archives. A true god with almost infinite power.”

“Not at all,” Timur replied. “His name’s known. That’s enough to prove it. But the very idea of a human apostle of Necros? An envoy, like you claim? That doesn’t match with what history tells us. If they ever existed, they didn’t last long. And if they did last, they didn’t stay human. You’re the wrong race, Sir Davon, that’s why I can’t believe it.”

Ludwig tilted his head. “What does race have to do with it?”

At that, Melisande finally spoke more firmly. “Because the power of Necros isn’t meant for humans,” she said, her gaze leveling with his. “It’s too vast. Too corrosive. By the Holy Order’s standards, too… impure.”

“How can death be impure?” Ludwig asked, his voice low but sharp.

Melisande hesitated, her mouth open as if searching for the right answer. “If you say it that way, then no, it’s not. But that’s not what I meant. Necros’ powers are tangled with Dark magic. Necromancy, curses, hexes, things that tap into the soul and unravel it thread by thread. You know how those are regarded in Lufondal.”

She leaned forward slightly, elbows resting against her knees. “That kind of power consumes lifespan like a furnace. A human body isn’t built for it. We’re short-lived enough already. Elves, Drows, even Dwarves and Werebeasts… they can channel it longer. Delay the cost. But they still burn out. We die far too quickly to wield it safely or efficiently.”

“I see…” Ludwig said, and for a moment, his voice grew distant. But then he refocused. “That doesn’t make what I said a lie.”

“Sir Davon,” Melisande said quietly, her tone shifting to something softer. “If it’s true, then you should give it up. Don’t use that power. Don’t draw from it. It leaves a mark, a trace. The Order has its ways. They’ll find it. They’ll follow it like a bloodhound chasing wounded prey.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Ludwig said simply. He leaned forward again, resting his elbows against his knees, the shadows on his face softening. “I’m a bit special in that regard.”

Timur’s hand rose, palm outward. “Stop right there, Davon,” he said, voice clipped.

Ludwig looked up, surprised by the sudden edge.

Timur’s expression was firm, not angry, but resolute. “I understand you may have things you want to keep to yourself. We all do. And I respect that. But being associated with Necros? That’s something else.”

The air in the carriage shifted, growing still.

“If what you’re saying is true,” Timur continued, “then you are something far removed from humanity. And that’s not something we can pretend doesn’t matter.”

Ludwig didn’t speak.

Timur let out a breath. “We’ll respect your privacy. If you don’t want to share, fine. Maybe that monster we saw earlier mistook you for someone else. Maybe it was confused. But don’t try to convince us that you’re an apostle of Necros. Not like that. Not with a straight face. An apostle you may be? That I might believe, but of Necros? Not in a million years. Whatever god you’re intertwining with, be careful if it lied to you about itself being the God of the Eternal silence, then it is a lying god. And might even be a demon one…”

His eyes lingered on Ludwig’s. “You tried to comfort us. I can tell. Maybe you even meant to reassure us. But that attempt had too many holes. Too many weak points. So just… keep your secrets. We won’t pry. We’ll respect your faith, but make sure that you don’t fall to tricks and lies that might be fed to you as truths.”

There was no anger in his voice, but neither was there trust.

It seems that revealing Ludwig’s fellowship was not a good idea.

‘No wonder why most main character keep secrets, well so far thankfully they don’t believe it to be true. And since Necros himself didn’t intervene with his own [Necros Blessing] to stop me from speaking, it should mean that he already knew that no one would believe me… the camouflage of the Soul Letting lantern is truly terrifying…’

The carriage creaked slightly as it hit a dip in the road. Outside, the forest was quiet once more. The moon had shifted behind a veil of clouds, and everything was dim.

Ludwig sat in silence, one hand resting lightly against the curve of Durandal hilt, his thoughts like a river beneath ice. The conversation had ended. But the distance between them had quietly grown.

And no one spoke for a long while.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!