Deus Necros

Chapter 882: Cursed Bliss

The pale giant leaned against the raised back, his immense body supported by cushions and draped fabric. Crimson eyes watched the approaching group without surprise. His white skin remained unmarked by the wound Ludwig had inflicted in Solania, though the memory of that attack seemed to linger in the way his gaze settled upon him.

The palanquin had once been carried by the white giants. Now it rested upon a wide platform built directly into the palace floor.

Sloth did not rise or call his servants forward. He barely moved his head.

"You do too much."

The words passed through the chamber without force, yet they reached every person clearly.

Sloth began sitting upright. The movement was painfully slow. He shifted one arm from the cushion, planted his hand beside himself, and gradually pulled his body forward as though the simple act of changing posture offended him. His elbow eventually rested upon one knee. His chin lowered toward his hand, placing him in a pose similar to a tired imitation of the Thinker.

Even then, he seemed barely willing to support his own weight.

"You’ve come," Sloth said, "to end their bliss."

Ludwig stepped forward. "If you’re calling ’becoming your personal floor and walls’ bliss, then I don’t know where to start."

The featureless giants did not react. There were dozens inside the chamber. Some stood beside the walls, while others waited near Sloth’s palanquin. Any one of them looked capable of crushing a normal soldier with a single hand.

Ludwig’s movement drew nothing from them. No heads turned. No fists closed. They did not consider his approach worth stopping.

Cain came to stand beside him. "Quite arrogant," the vampire said. "They don’t even think you’re a threat."

"Or they aren’t capable of caring," Kaiser replied.

"Fuck," Tull muttered behind them. "It’s happening again."

His legs shuddered. The climb had left sweat across his forehead despite the pleasant temperature. He remained standing through stubbornness alone.

The floor shifted beside him, and another chair assembled. This one was broader than the previous offering, fitted precisely to his height. A cushion formed against its back. The position would allow Tull to sit without losing sight of Ludwig or Sloth.

The palace had learned that he would not accept being removed from the confrontation, so it offered him a way to remain while resting.

"No thanks," Tull said, his voice strained. He stepped away from the chair and nearly fell, but Redd caught him.

Sloth’s crimson eyes moved toward them. "Why do you care so much?"

Ludwig kept Durandal lowered at his side. "Because I have to."

"No one is compelling you." Sloth’s gaze returned to Ludwig. "Not even Necros. He gave you a quest, and the free will to accept it or refuse it. Many others refused before you."

His head tilted by the smallest degree.

"Why do so much?"

Kaiser stroked his chin. "Quite the compelling argument."

Ludwig glanced at him. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours. That does not make his question poor."

Ludwig looked back at Sloth. "Because I need something from him."

"Necros is not so generous as to return what you lost, Ludwig Heart." Sloth spoke.

Ludwig’s grip tightened around Durandal. The leather creaked beneath his fingers.

"How do you know my name?"

Sloth’s expression did not change. "I know much more."

The pale giant shifted his fingers beneath his chin, every movement weighted by reluctance.

"I know why you are here. I know why you were chosen. I know why you wish to return to where you came from."

Silence settled through the chamber. Celine looked toward Ludwig. Kaiser’s amusement vanished. Even Cain’s ancient calm sharpened with interest.

Ludwig took another step. "I don’t like you."

"Many do not share your thoughts."

Sloth turned his head toward the vast window. Even that small movement appeared to require more effort than he wished to spend.

Beyond the glass stretched the territory he ruled. White roads crossed dead forests. Warm gardens filled the spaces surrounding the palace. People moved slowly through courtyards without hunger, fear, or urgency. Nothing hunted them. Nothing demanded payment for their survival.

"They are alive," Sloth said. "Well-fed. Protected. Given all they ever wanted and more."

His eyes returned to Ludwig.

"I can give you that."

The offer held no deception or hidden laughter. Sloth genuinely believed it.

"So why struggle?"

Ludwig looked toward the palace below. "Why don’t you ask that of the ones who keep escaping?"

"They always return," Sloth said, his voice remaining calm. "When they approach death, they remember that this place can save them from it. Delay it. Give them time and joy. Food and shelter. Safety from all the harm your kind brings to this world."

The stronger tribesman standing behind Ludwig went rigid. He had escaped this place, as had others from his people. Yet some had returned willingly when wounds, starvation, winter, or monsters brought death close enough to make the palace seem merciful again.

Even those who understood the cost remembered the warmth, the food, and the years they could purchase by surrendering only a little more of themselves.

"Yeah," Ludwig said. "No wonder Necros wants you gone."

"Necros cannot stop people from wanting to rest."

"His rest is far cleaner. Eternal, even." Ludwig lifted Durandal slightly. "So how about you kill yourself and rest for good? Solves a lot of issues."

Sloth’s crimson eyes settled upon the blade. "There is no reason to rest when the option of action is taken away from you."

Ludwig frowned. "That’s just saying you don’t want to die with extra steps."

Kaiser released a quiet sound that might have been laughter. Sloth ignored him.

"You cannot kill me."

"I almost did. You ran away."

"I chose to retreat and rest."

"Same thing."

"No."

For the first time, a trace of weight entered Sloth’s voice. It was not anger, but certainty.

"If you destroy this place, you will only make existence harder for those within it." He looked toward the floor, where the white cubes beneath them remained flawless. "They will hate you. They will despise you. They will wish you dead for taking away what they possess here."

Ludwig watched the people far below. Many would.

The palace had weakened their bodies and hollowed their wills, but it had also sheltered them from the Dark Continent. It had fed them through famine, protected them from monsters, and preserved lives that should have ended decades or centuries ago.

Destroying it would not produce gratitude. Some would die soon after leaving. Others would crawl back toward the ruins and beg for the comfort Ludwig had taken from them.

Many would curse at him for ruining their rest. And very few would ever be grateful. He will be hated.

"You think that would make me pity them?" Ludwig asked.

"Would it not?" Sloth studied him. "You are a hero. A savior. If you take away their bliss, you will doom them."

Ludwig stared for a moment, then laughed. The sound was short, dry, and completely without humor.

"You know, I always thought that was funny."

Sloth waited.

"Yes," Ludwig continued. "It will piss them off. It will make them angry. Some of them will hate me for it. Some will want my head on a pike."

"Then why do it?"

"Because I’m not a hero. And I don’t give a rat’s ass about their bliss or whatever you call it."

Everyone turned to Ludwig shock clear in their face. They expected him to argue his point, to prove that this rest was merely an escape from reality. They expected Ludwig to find a reason, or a proper argument even a weak one they could stand behind to give themselves a strong proper cause to justify why they would destroy what many here consider heaven.

Wrath stirred inside Ludwig.

He didn’t, he didn’t care, didn’t bother. He was even adamant on not justifying what many would find to be cruelty.

Heat passed through the chamber. It was faint, little more than the movement of something enormous opening one eye, but every featureless giant turned toward him at once.

It was the first reaction they had shown.

Kaiser’s gaze sharpened. Cain smiled faintly.

Ludwig raised Durandal and rested the blade against one shoulder.

"And I’m here to whoop your ass. And no amount of guilt tripping you try will stop it from happening."

"You’re becoming arrogant."

Ludwig shrugged, "Blame your brother, he gave me the crown of Pride." Ludwig took a step forward.

"Then there is only one way forward."

"There has always been one way forward, me taking your head off."

Sloth’s authority spread out in full. Everyone shook, the palace, the guards, and even Ludwig’s companions. Besides Kaiser everyone seemed to shake.

The Vampires were the least affected but Celine only managed to keep standing up by supporting herself with her weapon.

Tull and Redd fell down on their knees, while Thomas flattened fell on Ludwig’s shoulders. Unable to hold his head.

Ludwig stepped forward. His boot struck the flawless floor. The white cubes along his path flickered, caught between their place within Sloth’s Authority and the materials they had once been.

"I told you," Ludwig said. "I’m not here to rest."

He raised Durandal until the blade stood fully between them. "And I’m definitely not here to understand you."

The sword ignited with intent. No flames climbed its edge, yet the air around it warped beneath the certainty of the coming strike. After centuries of perfect silence and uninterrupted stillness, the endless white palace finally remembered what it meant to be in action.

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