Darkness consumed the sentinels of light.
The Deacons… righteous blades of the Cathars… were reduced to nothing after being submerged in the pitch-black goo that consumed their mortal bodies. The gleaming luster of black energy from their chests—their Souls—warbled slowly, almost like a heartbeat.
And, after a second or two… the righteous ones were reborn—forever tainted by death.
Their pale bodies rose from the darkness, the black energy surrounding them clinging close to their skin as tightly as possible. As a result, it almost seemed like they were wearing tight black robes, with dark hair floating in the air and dull purple eyes that seemed to glow as they regained consciousness.
Immediately they did so, the two fell on their knees and declared the pledge of fealty.
"WE SWEAR OUR UNDYING LOYALTY TO THE LORD OF THE DEAD!"
Their hollow voices echoed, almost as if they were in a vast and empty room. Their small frames were dwarfed even further by Legion standing behind them, and the Lord of the Dead who proudly stood before them.
He stared at them silently, his purple irises moving as he observed their complete visage.
'They look different from the regular Undead I created.' Lucius thought to himself, fighting the urge to rub his chin as he observed the duo before him. 'Their appearance is smaller, but they're definitely stronger than the ones I created before.'
These ones had more darkness clinging to them—enough to form robes that shrouded their nakedness. They also had less grotesque appearances and a more proportioned body—sleek and small, which fit their agile fighting style best.
Why?
'Is it because I got stronger? Does my [Dead Call] evolve with my growing strength?'
No… Lucius didn't think that to be the case.
Instead, he felt it had less to do with him and more to do with them.
'These two were Deacons, right? And they were also pretty strong when they were alive. That means turning them Undead would only make them stronger than my other Undead due to the gap in power.'
He could confirm this by checking his collection of Souls. One of the Souls collected by Lili's quartz ruby was especially potent—and it most likely belonged to the Deacon that Legion had killed on their way back from the Cathars Sanctuary.
'Interesting…' Lucius couldn't help but rub his chin in fascination. 'So, the stronger someone is before they die… the stronger they will be as an Undead.'
So far, he had only been dealing with the Souls of normal people, so he never saw much of a difference. However, with this discovery, he slowly began to get curious about just how far he could go with just [Dead Call].
'If only Legion had brought that Deacon to me—even if it was just her corpse—I could have turned her as well.' He sighed, feeling the hold of greed on his mind. 'It couldn't be helped, though… so I shouldn't think about it too much.'
Besides, he still had her Soul.
He could always attach it to another medium and create another powerful Undead. Perhaps he could even pick one from the many slaughtered soldiers that now desecrated the Camp.
Lucius turned away from the two kneeling before him and looked at the expanse before him—the plains that had now been littered with blood. Not a single cry could be heard from the camp any longer, and he could already see his Undead walking away from the place and returning to him.
'Looks like they're done on their end as well…' He could feel his lips curling up. 'That's good.'
Since the slaughter was done, Lucius decided it was time to reap the rewards for the night.
"All of you…"
With that mere whisper, Lucius could see several warbling lights shining from the several Corpses that littered the battlefield. It almost felt like glowing fireflies in the distance, the way the darkness glowed from each corpse and pulsated with life.
"... Come to me."
Instantly, the lights left the bodies that they hovered around and instead rushed towards him.
~WHOOSH!~
Like fiery arrows that were solely aimed at him, the hundreds of Souls charged at Lucius' still body, his purple eyes gleaming brightly as they entered into him in their dozens and scores.
With every new addition, he could feel something within him grow.
It felt like a fuel meter… or an energy gauge—the kind he was used to in the games he played before dying. There was no System to assist him in measuring his growth in numbers but Lucius knew it very clearly within himself.
—Especially after taking in all five hundred Souls.
"I've grown even stronger."
As he beamed, whispering all of these things to himself, he took in the fresh breeze.
Ignoring the strong stench of blood that the cold winds carried to his nostrils, and numerous corpses that created a canvas of despondency in the chaotic landscape of his creation… Lucius thought the air smelled good.
Great, even!
He had never felt so alive.
He took a moment to grasp this ecstasy, feeling the freedom that came from the new power that—
"Lord Mors… I apologize for interrupting your very important thoughts… but…"
"... There is something you should know."
The two Deacons—turned Undead—were still kneeling as they said this to their new Lord.
A troubled expression played on both their faces, clearly struggling with their decision to speak without being allowed to by their supreme deity. Since they were now his Undead, the two had no choice but to hearken to his will and bend to his authority.
He was the Lord of the Dead.
"Hm?" Lucius turned towards them with a stoic reaction. "What is it?"
In all honesty, he felt a pang of annoyance that they had somehow tainted the silence and stillness of the night, but after taking a good look at their faces—and taking into account their newfound loyalty towards him—he figured they would have a good reason for speaking out of line.
And… indeed they did.
"It's about the plan of attack on the Heresy Cult… the one we were briefed on when we were still on their side."
"The 'wrong' side, of course!"
"Okay…?" He responded with a raised brow. "What about the plan?"
Lucius didn't really understand why they were telling him such a thing at this moment. He had already crushed their forces, and there were no signs of another army around the Heresy Cult, so this had to be the main force.
'Or, is there something else there is to this plan?' He wondered, his gaze resting on the two for the answers he now craved.
"Well… the Bishop himself said he was going to take a visit to the Heresy Cult and give you all a little greeting."
"He told us to remain here on standby, and when he returned we would light the Dry Woods on fire and draw the remaining survivors out for a massacre."
'What?!' Lucius' eyes widened the moment he heard this. 'What did they just say?'
He took a step forward, his previously disinterested facade now transforming into something so unspeakably ugly as he glared deeply.
"The Bishop must have already arrived at the Heresy Cult Headquarters by now." The first of the duo stated.
"He could already be done with what he went there to do." The other added.
Lucius did not even bother asking what the Bishop said he would 'do' to the Heresy Cult as his little greeting. He already had a good idea of what it would be—something not too different from what he had just done to the Cathars force.
'Lili… Luca… everyone!' His eyes flashed with concern and for just a split second he could feel worry claw at his chest.
A bad feeling suddenly assailed him, and he realized there was no need to dawdle any further.
"I have to go now!"