Deus Necros

Chapter 895: A Hopeless Creature

Ludwig opened the door and let Wrath in.

For several seconds, nothing happened.

That was almost worse.

He stood alone in the center of the canyon with Nightbreaker resting against one shoulder while everyone else continued putting as much distance as possible between themselves and what was about to happen. Sloth made no attempt to pursue them.

Of course he did not. That was not what Sloth did.

Cain carried Celine toward the edge of the battlefield. Gale moved beside the tribesmen with his tower shield raised, while Redd helped those who could barely walk beneath the crushing influence still lingering throughout Sloth’s territory. Kaiser retreated with Thomas beside him, and Tull followed after them while repeatedly looking back.

Sloth merely watched.

He could have attacked. Ludwig had already seen enough of his speed to know he could have crossed the distance before most of them managed another step. He could have reduced Tull to pulp, shattered the tribesmen, hunted Redd or forced Cain to waste whatever strength remained rebuilding his body again.

He did none of it because doing so served no purpose.

They were leaving. From Sloth’s perspective, the problem was removing itself. Why expend effort pursuing something that had already decided to go away?

That was the nature of Sloth. He did not search for wars, roam the world looking for kingdoms to destroy or torment people for his own amusement. For God only knew how many years, he had remained within the Dark Continent without crossing the Solania mountain range because Wrath existed on the other side.

Wrath had practically held the mountains hostage. Passing through meant confrontation, and confrontation meant effort, so Sloth simply had not bothered.

Only after Wrath disappeared did he finally move.

Then the Empire fell.

Sloth expanded almost without resistance, claiming one region after another until his Authority stretched across lands that had once belonged to countless tribes, beasts, kingdoms and creatures. In another life Ludwig remembered all too well, Sloth had eventually gone farther.

He had reached the Empire and conquered it.

Cities fell, armies disappeared, and black amalgamations flooded across the continent while Sloth continued expanding the White Kingdom behind them. Millions had died, and Ludwig had no intention of pretending otherwise simply because he had learned something sympathetic about the creature standing before him.

Sloth was still a monster by nearly every reasonable definition.

He simply was not a monster in the same way as the others.

Wrath destroyed because rage demanded an outlet. Envy took because the very idea of another possessing something was intolerable. Lust bound desire until obsession replaced choice, while Gluttony consumed because the existence of anything uneaten was reason enough to hunger. Pride stood alone because acknowledging an equal would contradict everything he believed himself to be.

Sloth merely wanted everything to stop.

No struggle, hunger, fear or ambition. No desire, responsibility, want or need. Even the paradise Ludwig had just walked through reflected that wish.

The people living there were fed, protected, warm and safe. They did not need to hunt or work, nor did they need to fear what crawled through the Dark Continent at night. Eventually, they did not need to think. After that, they no longer needed to choose.

Finally, they did not even need to move.

The moment something inside them awakened again, when they began wanting, struggling, resisting or hoping for something beyond the existence Sloth provided, they were compressed into white cubes and used to expand that same paradise.

They became floors, walls, bridges and thrones.

Sloth’s salvation was another kind of death, only slower. Perhaps most disturbingly, some of the people within his kingdom would probably hate Ludwig for taking it away.

Ludwig looked toward the pale giant. Sloth remained perfectly still, and his body was whole again. The wounds Celine had carved through him were gone. Kaiser’s explosions had left nothing behind, and even the damage from Gale’s strike had vanished from his flesh as though none of it had ever mattered.

Ludwig sighed. "Sorry about this. I don’t know what happens from here."

Sloth’s crimson eyes remained fixed upon him, but he offered no answer.

Ludwig rubbed the side of his neck. "And don’t blame me for whatever comes next. I did warn you."

"You chose this. You chose effort."

"Yeah."

Ludwig studied him for several seconds before part of the Inspection returned to his mind. He remembered the lore it had shown him, the man Sloth had once been and the creature that man had eventually become.

"I’ve seen through your eyes."

That finally earned the smallest reaction. Sloth’s gaze sharpened.

"And I’ve yet to see hope," Ludwig continued. "That’s depressing, honestly."

The first traces of crimson aura seeped from his skin and gathered around his boots.

"All creatures hope for something. You can hope tomorrow hurts less or that someone comes home. You can hope you become stronger, hope you get rich or hope the bastard trying to kill you trips over a rock and breaks his neck."

The aura climbed his legs as Ludwig’s fingers tightened around Nightbreaker. A faint smile touched his face.

"It doesn’t have to be noble."

Sloth said nothing.

"But you don’t have any. You want nothing, need nothing and hope for nothing."

The crimson aura reached Ludwig’s chest, and his smile disappeared.

"And frankly? That’s a little disturbing."

The Wrathful Heart beat.

The ground beneath Ludwig cratered, and his entire body jerked. Nothing had struck him. The force came from within.

Wrath moved.

The crimson aura that had been crawling peacefully across Ludwig’s body erupted upward and swallowed him from his feet to the top of his head. His spine snapped straight, and bones shifted beneath his flesh. A wet sequence of cracks came from inside his torso as his ribs separated, thickened and began reforming.

Any living man would have screamed.

Ludwig did not even grunt. His Living Vessel registered the damage and immediately began correcting it.

His shoulders widened while the muscles beneath them tightened until veins rose across his arms. The growth continued, tearing the old flesh apart as new muscle formed beneath it. Fibers wrapped over fibers, compacting into something denser and stronger.

His body was not merely becoming larger. It was rebuilding itself into something capable of carrying more Wrath.

"You..." Ludwig spoke through barely controlled focus. "Who have no hope..."

Sloth’s eyes squinted a fraction.

"Let us awaken it." His voice doubled as multiple voices spoke at once. "Let us see that hope of yours. Only then, can it be crushed!"

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