Deus Necros

The tension in the ancient chamber hung thick with the weight of centuries, heavy with the scent of damp stone and something far more metallic…like old blood seeped into the cracks of the world. The runes carved into the circular barrier pulsed with a slow, rhythmic glow, their crimson light painting jagged shadows across the worn stone floor. Each flicker made the carvings seem to twitch, as if the symbols themselves were alive and writhing under their gaze.

The knight shifted his weight, the plates of his armor grinding together with a sound like bones rubbing. His gauntleted fingers flexed around the hilt of his sword, the leather creaking. “I don’t like this,” he muttered, his voice low enough that the words barely carried.

The vampire hunter didn’t look at him. His eyes were locked onto the shifting runes, his breath coming in shallow, excited bursts. “What do you mean?” he snapped, irritation sharpening his tone. He took a step closer to the barrier, his gloved hand outstretched but not quite daring to touch the glowing surface. “This is what our ancestors left us.” The reverence in his voice bordered on obsession, his lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “All we need to do is wait a bit longer. A few hours at most. The runes my people used here are deciphering this construct. Once it’s completely disabled, all the secrets of our vampire hunter clan will be revealed.”

Ludwig said nothing. His gaze remained fixed on the barrier, but his attention was elsewhere on the way the runes moved, not just shifting, but rearranging themselves like pieces of a puzzle sliding into place. On the faint tremors that ran through the stone beneath his boots, subtle but growing stronger with each passing minute. On the notification that had appeared before him moments ago, hovering in his vision like an omen:

[You are in a hostile environment.]

The knight exhaled sharply, his breath fogging in the strangely chilled air. His eyes darted to the corners of the chamber, to the darkness that seemed to press closer with every pulse of the runes. “Are you sure your clan’s secret is here?” His voice was tight. “Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like something bad is kept behind that barrier.”

The hunter whirled on him, his patience snapping like a frayed rope. “Stop spouting nonsense!” His voice echoed off the stone, too loud in the confined space. “This is the old hideout of our ancestors. This…” he jabbed a finger at the glowing runes, the light casting his face in harsh crimson, “…must be the secret to their power. The reason they could defeat the vampires and monsters of old!”

Ludwig finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with something darker. “How long has it been since this place was discovered?”

The hunter hesitated, his fervor momentarily checked. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if itching to reach for the barrier again. “A few months now.”

“And how did you come to uncover it?”

The hunter’s jaw worked. “There were rumors,” he said, his tone defensive. “Whispers that the Old Hunters used this place as an operation base. Our guild searched it dozens of times but never found anything… until recently.” His eyes gleamed in the rune-light. “They must have hidden their greatest weapons here. Their true methods.”

Ludwig’s gaze flicked to the grooves in the floor…faint, almost invisible lines that radiated outward from the barrier like cracks in glass. They weren’t natural wear. They were too precise, too deliberate. And they formed a pattern.

‘A seal, not one, Many.’

“When did these ‘events’ start happening at the Dawn Islands?” Ludwig asked, his voice deceptively mild.

The hunter frowned. “We thought about that. The Red Moon only appeared a few weeks ago. We found this place before then.”

Ludwig’s voice hardened. “I understand that. But when did you start breaking the barriers?”

The hunter stiffened. “Plural? How did you know there was more than one?”

Ludwig didn’t answer. He simply pointed at the grooves again, his expression unreadable.

The hunter’s confidence wavered. His throat worked as he swallowed. “I… don’t know exactly. I was still in Mira when the work began. I only received orders to come here a week ago. The people who knew more about this are all…” He trailed off, his eyes darting to the shadows.

“Dead,” Ludwig finished for him.

The knight, Beal, shifted uneasily. His sword was half-drawn before he realized it, the blade glinting in the rune-light. “Is something wrong, Sir Davon?”

Ludwig’s grip tightened on Oathcarver’s hilt. The weapon hummed faintly in his grasp, as if sensing what he already knew. “I have a feeling this whole situation is directly tied to what’s happening outside on the island.”

“But…”

“No.” Ludwig’s voice cut like steel. “It’s too convenient. The Red Moon didn’t just happen to appear where you were breaking what looks like an ancient seal.” His eyes narrowed. “Regardless…”

He raised Oathcarver, the blade catching the dim light. The runes along its length flared in response, a deep violet against the barrier’s crimson.

The hunter’s eyes widened. “What are you doing? We tried using force…it won’t break!”

Ludwig didn’t look at him. “This isn’t to break the barrier.”

Almost immediately, the chamber shuddered.

A deep, resonant groan echoed through the stone, like the waking sigh of some long-dormant beast. The tunnel behind them…once lit by faint, bioluminescent moss…had gone pitch black. Not just dark. Empty. The kind of black that seemed to swallow sound, to press against the skin like a physical weight.

The knight stumbled back a step. “What in the…?”

“Get ready,” Ludwig said, his voice low. “Incoming.”

The attack came without warning.

A dozen thorned branches erupted from the darkness, lashing toward them like whips. Ludwig’s blade was already in motion, slicing through the first few…but the roots twisted midair, wrapping around Oathcarver’s edge with a vice-like grip.

“What the hell is going on?” the hunter snarled, yanking two curved daggers from his belt. The blades gleamed with a faint, oily sheen…poisoned, likely. “I thought this place was safe!”

Beal didn’t hesitate. His longsword came down in a brutal arc, severing the roots that held Ludwig’s weapon. The severed vines writhed on the ground, oozing black sap that hissed where it touched stone.

“There was never any safety in this place,” the Beal said, “Should have expected much, with all the monsters and creeps all over this god forsaken place!” he added with a groan.

“Enemies are coming,” Ludwig said, raising his free hand. The air around his fingers shimmered, heat distorting the space. “Fireball!”

Three consecutive blasts of flame shot into the tunnel, illuminating the horror within.

Dozens of Perturbants stood motionless in the darkness, their rose-filled eyes reflecting the firelight. Some were humanoid, their forms twisted with bark and thorn. Others were little more than masses of vines given crude shape, their limbs too long, their movements too fluid.

Beal cursed, his grip tightening on his sword. “I thought you said this place was safe!”

“I thought so too!” the hunter snapped, pulling fist-sized crystals from his coat…the same incendiary devices his comrade had used earlier. His fingers trembled slightly as he palmed them.

Ludwig’s voice cut through the chaos. “Don’t throw those!”

“Why not? They’ll burn the bastards to ash!”

“No. The fire will consume all the air in here. You’ll suffocate before they die.”

The hunter bared his teeth. “That didn’t stop you from using fire magic!”

“I used it to see what we’re facing,” Ludwig said, shifting his stance as the first Perturbant stepped into the light, its body still smoldering from the flames. The roses in its eyes were blackened, their petals curled like burned paper. “And I don’t think we can afford to argue right now.”

The creature lunged.

Ludwig met it head-on, Oathcarver cleaving through its torso with a wet crunch. Black sap sprayed across the stone as the creature collapsed…but already, the vines in its body were twitching, knitting themselves back together.

Another Perturbant darted from the side, claws extended. Beal intercepted it, his sword severing its arms at the elbows. The creature didn’t scream. It simply stepped back, the stumps of its limbs already sprouting new, thorned growths.

Ludwig exhaled through his teeth. The barrier behind them pulsed brighter, the runes shifting faster.

“This is going to take a while.”

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