Deus Necros

Chapter 560: Traitor Once again

Ludwig flew forward with a single long stride, Durandal in hand and struck up. There was no hesitation or delay it was as if his body became an extension of his mind as he moved.

The Hero did not even see it, and only heard the loud impact then felt its aftermath, as the whole cave shuddered and rumbled almost to the point of it falling upon them entirely. Dust shook from seams in the ceiling and sifted like fine ash. A few freed men flinched and covered their heads. Stone groaned in complaint. With the largest threat being some loose rocks falling far too close to a few soldiers.

Two swords had been crossed right in front of the Hero’s face. The space between them was a thin wedge of air that smelled like metal and heat and the breath of three angry people.

“Titania!” Ludwig’s words strained as he realized how monstrously strong she was. It was not news, but reminders sometimes break the wrists even when they are expected.

“Ludwig! You know damn well I’m merely tolerating you right now!” Her eyes did not leave his. Her blade pressed and tested. The hero’s nose almost brushed the flat. He did not breathe. He could only stare at the swords crossed in front of him. His face didn’t turn white but almost blue as if all blood drained from his body at once.

“And you know damn well that killing him will bring nothing but trouble your way!” Ludwig’s jaw locked. His arms sang with the taste of her Aura. He let his weight slide to keep from cracking bone.

“Of all people I thought you’d be the one to care the least for his death!”

“Trust me, I don’t give a rat’s ass if he were to die in some random ditch, someone without humanity like this fucker deserves a fate worse than sand worm excrement, but you on the other hand!” Ludwig could not finish his sentence as he finally pushed Titania’s sword away. The metal rasped. The sound rolled along the wall and died behind the crow statue as if swallowed.

Though it looked like he overpowered her, both he and she knew that she merely relaxed her strength, as if agreeing with his statement wordlessly. The pressure left faster than his push could account for.

“You know dam well that the moment this tool of Clementine is dead, you’ll be used to move throughout the entire damn empire, hell I can even see him sending you to the Dark Continent just for kicks.” Ludwig did not raise his voice. He laid the picture out plain. It was uglier in the head than said aloud.

Her upper lip curled in a rough and angered way, not at Ludwig, but at the reality of his statement. Clementine was using the Hero as a tool for his image. Once he is fully seated as the new Pope, he’ll discard him, but if the Hero were to die before, then Clementine would simply take revenge on Titania. No one in the Holy Order cared about a summoned hero, they came and went like the wind, died in random ditches, trusted their feeble and imaginary powers too much to die to some random primitive traps. Or simply went far beyond their own capabilities and drew the anger of greater beings. Some were foolish enough to challenge dragons even, only to die in seconds later.

And this hero will soon find his own grave.

She cannot be the reason he finds the grave however. It will make her life far too complicated. Titania’s strength gave her freedom, albite a limited freedom it was still far better than those without. If the Hero were to die in her presence with Clementine taking the seat she’ll soon find her limited freedom shackled some more.

Titania sighed, then turned to Ludwig, “Boy, you should leave my sight.” The words did not carry the insult the name boy should carry. They carried the tiredness of a commander who knows the next part is going to be worse no matter what she chooses.

“I don’t have any other intention. Still, I don’t agree with that guy being anywhere close to the guard captain nor the Moon Princess…” Ludwig’s gaze cut to the prisoners. The knight’s hands shook where they had been steadied. The princess’s eyes had that calm that comes when faith and terror share a cup.

“That cannot be arranged, the Holy Order must take them back. They are prisoners of war.” Titania’s mouth flattened around the term. She did not like it. She said it anyway.

“Their imprisonment will cause strife, war will definitely spark.” He did not say perhaps. He said will. The weight of the word settled on the floor like another stone.

Titania looked at Ludwig and back at the two prisoners. The calculation walked across her face. “We can’t give them back and you know it.” She gestured with her face and Ludwig immediately understood. The small tilt was more than signal. It was permission wrapped in denial.

“I see,” Ludwig held Durandal up, “I’ll have to take them off your hands then.” He did not smile to gloat. He smiled because this was the kind of choice that made a clean line out of a tangle. He preferred clean lines.

“You’ll be the enemy of the empire. You do know that the second imperial prince is waiting for your presence in the upcoming war.” Her voice went softer, not kinder. A last check before a cliff.

“It would be a shame,” Ludwig said. He let the words lie flat. No bravado, no bowing. He smelled dust, dried blood, old incense. He heard the wet cough of a man healing too quickly and the thin whisper of prayers that did not think they were heard.

“All your heroic deeds will be expunged and you’ll be declared the enemy of the state and all the kingdoms that live within it, you’ll have an execute on sight the moment you do this.” She watched to see if fear showed up. It did not. Something colder did.

“But it’ll stop the war.”

“At best… it’ll halt it.” She did not lie for comfort. She never had.

“Then isn’t that better than people dying.” There was no poetry in it. He meant the numbers and the names behind them.

“You’re no hero,” she said. It was not insult. It was classification.

Ludwig looked at the hero and smiled, “Thankfully I’m not. I’m sorry but I’ll take them with me.” The apology was real. Not for the act but for the inconvenience of it.

The paladins were confused, so were the soldiers. You could hear the confusion as a thinning of breath, as men who had been given a line now found two and did not know which to stand behind. Ludwig was actively becoming a traitor. The word traitor did not sit well in the mouths of men who had seen him drag death away from their faces minutes ago.

“Where are you taking them you fucker!” the hero, the least informed in the situation howled. He tried to wrench the moment back to him and only succeeded in making himself smaller in it.

“Use your fucking head, back to the Kingdom of the desert, you dumbass.” Ludwig did not even bother turning fully to look at him.

“So you can take that power for yourself? OVER MY DEAD BODY! THE HEART OF THE MOON IS MINE!” the hero howled as he charged at Ludwig. A sword far too good and too beautiful for him drawn from his scabbard. The shout cracked on the last word. His feet were not sure on the torn floor.

Without even batting an eye Ludwig sidestepped the swing and simply grabbed the hero’s face with his opened palm. His fingers covered the eyes and nose. The heel of his hand set on the brow like a cruel blessing.

“Quite the familiar sight?” and slammed him into the ground cratering it. Stone spiderwebbed. Dust jumped. Silence swallowed the little groan that followed. “Only this time the ground isn’t as soft as the snow. Defy me again and I’ll kill you.” The promise was delivered the way one tells a child not to touch a flame. Not loud. Very clear.

The wobbly hero could only stare at Titania. The stare asked for rescue and punishment in the same breath.

Ludwig noticed it and said to Titania “You’re very exhausted from your fight with the hooded man, you think you can stop me?”

Titania was not exhausted, not the least bit. The aura in her shoulders had the slow roll of a sea that can drown fleets.

“I don’t think I can, it’ll risk the death of many soldiers…” she replied. Honest calculation mixed and melded with clear lies. Her eyes slid across the men who would pay for her pride and did not stop on a single one. She knew Ludwig wasn’t going to fight her. Nor was she going to fight him, but she needed clear excuses for herself and for everyone present that she couldn’t stop Ludwig. With so many ears and eyes present the Hero won’t be believed no matter what he said.

“Then I’ll take my leave, tell my master to not wait for me.” Ludwig smiled and went toward the two chained prisoners. The knight tried to stand straight and almost managed. The princess watched him the way one watches a storm pull away from a roof you have already nailed down. “Time to go. Hurry up,” Ludwig said.

The two were confused, but seeing none of the paladins nor soldiers act. They understood that they were actively being let go. The knight glanced once at Titania and got nothing but a hard little nod that said live. The princess gathered the torn edge of her skirt so it would not trip her and moved with the quiet grace of someone used to not being allowed to choose and choosing anyway.

Ludwig led the two prisoners away from the group despite the groaning protests of the hero. The sound chased them a few paces and died when the boy remembered what the ground felt like against his skull.

Once again, once Ludwig leaves this cave, he’ll be branded a traitor. The title would follow like a shadow in bright noon. He knew what it would cost. He also knew what it would buy. He did not look back. He needed a good excuse to go to the heart of the Kingdom of the Sand, and right now he had two of them.

Meeting with the next Usurper of Death was something he expected to happen eventually, but now, he was actively seeking them. Who knows what the future hold after all.