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Black Magus

What kind of realm would you choose to live in after digitizing your mind? For Amun, that was a magical world where he could be free to learn until his end of days. What he got was to become the living god of a vast realm in an odd universe. A being who'd be born with the world. And later stripped of it all. A being of juxtaposition and contradictions. A sinner and a saint. A wise sage and a genius scientist. A loving creator and a baleful explorer. An elf and a devil, living in a world of might and magic. But all is not what it seems. Peace is fleeting. Figures loom in the light. Forms strafe through the trees. And one Amun is woefully ignorant to the ways of a realm so ripe for change. Yet he is one who cannot help but change it. So he devotes himself to forming the greatest guild the Mortal Plane has ever seen, intending to change his world and others for the better. And yet, somewhere along the line of his undying march, Amun evolved into the being all denizens of the Mortal Plane either revered; or feared. The Black Magus. *** This novel’s lore, story, and characters are entirely fictitious. Certain long-standing countries, institutions, organizations, agencies, public offices, etc. are/may be mentioned, but their histories and the characters involved are wholly imaginary. *** This novel’s lore, story, and characters are entirely fictitious. Certain long-standing countries, institutions, organizations, agencies, and public offices are mentioned, but their histories and the characters involved are wholly imaginary. Look for the story on RR. https://www.royalroad.com/profile/202907/fictions

Liden_Snake · ファンタジー
レビュー数が足りません
459 Chs

Undying Croak

Amun.

21st of Quintetas, 1492.

Rear Antechamber, Nydorden Halls. Shujen Kingdom Underground. Depth: 2,000 km.

08:31.

***

I heard the boisterous laughter of the others echoing into the darkness behind me as I fell into my shadow, causing my laughs to echo by their lonesome once the blissful silence came upon me.

No matter how much I wanted to remain there, I wasn't lying. I wanted to get this and the next part over and done with. Thus I reached up with little delay to open four holes in the ether and watched the Undying Fiends plummet into my shadow, chased by the screaming laughter of the others.

"Been a while since I've been in here."

Immediately after my mutterings came a creeping voice chattering in my ear. "H-hellooo, my Liege."

"Diamante!" I groaned at my first devil. "You can't do that! That's fucking creepy, man. You're supposed to creep on mortals and souls. Not me."

"Ah, f- forgive me, my Liege. I've been having so much fun with all these souls you keep sending us."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure. That aside, I need to learn Devil Kenpo to move further down Zefroth's Path. How long would that take?"

"Ah, I- I am not made for such a thing, my Liege. Law is my nature."

"Yes, and the contracts you write for me are amazing." I sighed impatiently. "Just… give me a general idea."

"Ah, a- a year… of endless fighting should do."

"Was that so hard?" I smiled, patting him on the shoulder. He in turn only withdrew into himself and trembled with fear, even after I descended.

A shame.

"A year of fighting!" Leary sighed airily. "Sounds glorious!"

"Sounds like a job for the Owl." I snorted. "I won't have that much time to kill until our work in Maru is done."

"You won't have the time?" Rickley laughed this time. Only to suddenly stop once the thick bramble-like gates of the Under came upon us, opening slowly as we approached.

"Time may be meaningless for the souls and devils that live here. But it runs the same for we who visit it. I cannot change that, for this is not my domain. I am not the God of this realm. Only a Sovereign."

"Welcome to the Underworld. The birthplace of devils and the eternal resting place of souls." Archer bowed from the other side. Rising with a flourish, he gestured to the vast, towering, twisting structures to his right before bringing everyone's eyes to the empty plains of suffering on his left. "Welcome, Undying Fiends, most revered. Care for a tour?"

They all voiced their compliance with differing levels of enthusiasm and ran off into the abyss with Archie, leaving me free to delve into the greater Abyss below.

Much to my surprise, neither the tormented souls nor their tormentors scattered as I approached. It seems some part of my evolution- most likely my brand but I doubt it- superseded their fear of the void, turning angst into malice; trepidatious malice, but malice all the same.

Devil and soul alike watched me land in that great expanse of torment from a distance. They remained silent as I obtained the lotus position, attacking only after I settled into a breathing cycle.

Curious more than anything, I allowed a sliver of my mind to remain aware of the rushing hordes. It was as if I was a victim of my own sorcery, the way the tormentors tore into my flesh; biting and ripping, not to eat, to simply destroy. On the contrary, the tormented seemed to rush into my very bones, aiming for neither salvation nor punishment. Aiming, it seemed, to pull me deeper into the Abyss than what would seem possible.

I knew not if their pull, my concentration, or my prior experiences led me to find that something I resonated with during my meditations. It was a sense of… connectivity; distant, incomplete connections. In one way, it was similar to galaxies and how vast distances separated them, yet were interconnected via gravity and dark matter in ways that created the fantastical filaments and voids seen when looking out at the observable universe.

In another sense, it was like a map interposed on The Tree of Life; not the ones scattered across the Mortal Plane but the sacred geometrical figure. At the base stood the Underworld, linked to the Shadow Realm above via a spindly thread winding through the extra-planar medium- the Astral Plane- like a river. The Mortal Plane sat beyond it, forming the epicenter for four branching paths linking it to what I assumed were the Elemental Planes.

An arc, or rather, a bridge connected the Fire Plane on the top left to the Earth Plane on the top right, with three islands placed between. The first was a place I recognized through Jaimess' 'venture' into the Spirit Realm, as it contained the same energy he now boasted. The following realm was a place I surmised by its appearance and position.

It was directly above the Under, at the top of the tree. The Realm of Light, or whatever it was called. It'd never crossed my mind before, but in hindsight it only made sense for the Lux family to have a realm to themselves, being our mirrors. At the end of the trail, however, was what had to be the Faewoods. An unexplored realm. Much like the others beyond those of my birthright.

Before, I studied the space as an astral projection, allowing my realizations to ingrain themselves on the scroll given me by Abbot Eiriol, thus forming the 'secret art' I would teach mortals in the temple I was to build at the final step. This time, however, my meditations pulled my mind, spirit, skeletonized body, and soul toward the bottommost sphere of that 'realm tree.' Death's Domain.

Into that abyssal sphere, my blackened bones plummeted; satisfying some greedy beast within so much that it belched in satisfaction.

The fog of darkness stood no chance in the wake of that green-black breath. I was not so unfortunate, for I soon found myself floating before a door that stood taller than any cliff I'd ever seen; and I saw Verona Rupes, on Uranus' moon, Miranda. Bigger than me were the grains of umbral wood, secured and latched by black divine chains that glowed a putrid green.

Never in my life had I felt so small. I felt like a molecule had been forcefully made aware of the mountain it was a piece of, for it was that massive in stature: Death's Door.

Rather quickly, it was becoming a recurring theme: the ridiculousness felt when following the most sensible course of action, if not the most logical. It was no different here, standing as an astral projection atop what could have only been a Divine Door, attempting to use ki. Yet, I felt the necrotic fires of my ki release and take hold in my fist as I reeled back to knock with all my might, triggering the activation of [Dead Door Knock].

Six thunderous bangs rapped on the abyssal planks; discharging lightning bolts to spread. To carve through the grains like needles through thread.

Six mighty bangs echoed from the divine chains; shouting curses to the sparks that shocked them to slag, and songs for the damned, accursed, and mad.

Six boisterous booms were returned from the one inside the room; an invitation to the Undying Devil of Void; to inherit a familial role, as of yet unemployed.

The eighteen throes of Death's Door Knock saw Death's Door swing beneath my feet. No longer was it before me, for I found myself in bottomless freefall, suspended in an infinite abyss, accompanied by a familiar stranger of colossal proportions who looked down on me as if I were a curious ant; or an appetizing one.

He appeared before me in ways dissimilar to how my warlocks saw me. Gargantuan, but with a distinctly human likeness to his inhuman visage. A thick layer of sweat or slime coated the parts of his deep brown skin left uncovered by his billowing umbral coattails. He was slim, yet had a prominent beer belly supported by lanky legs balanced on big, almost clown feet. Spindly fingers with bulbous tips tapped at his wide mouth, parted by thin lips as the horizontal slits of his bulbous eyes focused on me. Eyes that boasted horns in place of brows. Horns like that of the Suriname Horned Frog.

The horns of Nergal. The God of Death.

"Who is he who knows all and knows nothing? What is he who intoxicatedly invigorates all he touches? When wilt these many days transition into thy endless nights? Where wilt it arise? How… do you do? Whyyyy… do you do?" Nergal sang and exhaled the word in a ghastly tone, washing a wicked gale over me that rank of carrion marinated in the essence of skatole.

'Ugh.' I groaned in equal parts disgust and annoyance. It seemed my neutrality toward foul smells had been cloyed upon entering this realm, and I still hated riddles. Although, like the one with Azrael's scroll, this one was fairly easy.

"I am he who knows all and knows nothing, the Twenty-Fifth Child of the Nox, Amun. You are he who intoxicatedly invigorates all he touches, Nergal Nox. In two years, comes my Eternal dusk; reborn in the heart of Maru. I can do these things because of Zefroth and all who came after. I do these things for me, and all that existed before, so I may perfect what is to come."

"Geh!" he croaked, though his colossal frame moved not. "You know it not. Death, the Shadow Realm, and the World of Dark; their existence in you is akin to an art. Alongside some dragons, drow, and creatures unknown before this day; Draconic Imps, Devils of the Fae."

"I intend not to claim the Domain of Death for myself. Neither do I wish for the Plane of Shadow, nor the Darkworld. Simultaneously, I do not deny them as my birthright."

To that, his thin lips cramped into a wicked smile "Nor should you, for you misunderstand; all Void Children follow Zefroth's plan. You are he whom I've been abiding, to crown the Nox's Judge; Amun, God of Dying."

Before I could answer with anything other than a bow, his smile widened to reveal not the inky abyss of his innards but to unleash a blinding wave of noxious green light that subsumed me in an instant.

I found myself swirling within a typhoon. Carving through a pit of sickeningly familiar energy. Divine fields of crackling green bolts violently arced and sparked across my clothes, tugging against the similar organ in my spirit with a maddening fervor as it sought the paths and ki ponds I spent the last several months developing.

So violent, it was, and yet so peaceful, that I could hear the croaking laughter of Death more clearly than I could hear my thoughts. "This is goodbye, Amun, until the days get less brighter. I look forward to the meeting between your cloth and the Demon Spider. Not as much as your eminent war, of course; between your Legio Noctis and the Agents of the White Horse."

As his words faded, so too did the torrent of energy, leaving my 3rd necrotic ki pond open and overflowing as I plummeted once again. Down and down toward a pinpoint of sea green amongst the ever-expansive field of darkness.

I saw it not approach. I only experienced a blinding flash of energy before I was returned to my body, still in the lotus position, yet not in the greater Under. Nor did I think it was it my Under, at first glance.

Still, my throne remained. Though it was no longer placed amongst the elements of an expansive umbral jungle. Instead, towering walls of bone bricks sat directly before me, framed neatly with windows that granted picturesque views of the road I spent so many months traversing.

As I turned about, my eyes fell to the dazzling display of gray and sea-green embers dancing off the petrified tiles of flesh and immediately rose to face a screaming chandelier that could have only been described as celestial-sized. In truth, however, it was neither a chandelier nor a celestial body, but the thousands upon thousands of glowing, screaming souls within my Cursed Well.

"Woo! That's quite the collection."

I turned on a dime toward the whistle, yet my eyes brought my attention to the first unfamiliar thing I saw. Doors. Doors and alcoves and corridors that led to places I knew not. Beyond them were more of the tapestries, carvings, and decorations seen on the far side of the room, including windows that gave views of a calmingly familiar expanse of charred trees, black soil, and undead. Then my eyes fell toward the source of the voice. A slim, tall man of darkness and mana, tilting an ostentatious hat back as he craned his neck above.

"It's been a while." I grinned at Captain Darkblood before scanning my eyes across the great floor. Planted in ostentatious chairs of bone and gore sat four fiendish individuals of undying natures staring with mixed expressions at the umbral figures craning their heads above.

"Everyone, this is my grandfather, Azrael Cole; my great-great-grandfather, Telman Cole; my great-great-great grandfather, Henry Cole; and my great-great-great-great grandmother-"

"Corvus Cole!" Reina gasped, finally rushing from her seat to take the legendary druid's hand in hers. "I- it's such an honor to meet you! I- I'm Reina Featherfall of the Feathered Grove. I've spent many years in the Blighted Woods."

"I can see why you are here." Corvus regally smiled before looking at me. "And you made a pact with her?"

"I did. These are the warlocks I made pacts with to step further down Zefroth's path. My Undying Fiends. Wilson Koorb, Rickley Ravenbrook, Reina Featherfall, and Leary, the Faithful."

"I suppose this means you've been to my dungeon?" Corvus asked without brushing off Reina in the slightest. On the contrary, she took Reina into a motherly embrace and seemed to radiate something into her.

"Yes, and I found the hidden Effigy of Ari-Zmon there as well." I nodded, prompting Azrael to bound forward excitedly.

"So you've been to mine as well?"

"Two out of three. That one and one that had an undead chimera inside."

Granny Raven rolled her eyes with a dramatic flair. "Your Great-Grandfather's. He didn't even put anything useful in it."

While she wasn't entirely wrong, I decided to say nothing. Not that I could have said anything, with her being my great-grandfather's great-grandmother.

Thankfully, she continued.

"Not that he could be blamed, I suppose." She sighed. "It was Cole who told me to house that Effigy inside a dungeon. Trying to understand why was an exercise in futility. In the century and a half I knew him, he was an enigma. Regardless, I told your great-grandfather to do the same. You can see how much effort he put into it."

"I believe I made up for it, though." Azrael then said, approaching to shake Reina's hand. "Can't say I spent much time in Redagh, though. I spent most of my time in the Bodhi Peninsula tormenting Rharians."

"As I'm sure we will be." I snorted, hearing Nergal's words replay in my head. Then answered the inquisitive gazes from my ancestors. "Corym sent a party to kill me at the start of the year. Or, if not him then his God did. All for killing a single unicorn."

"Mortals are often zealous in that way," Telman said with a huff, prompting a quick murmur of agreement from Wilson.

Corvus, on the other hand, sneered. "Ugh! Corym." He and his Rharians tried to kill me so many times I lost count. Eventually, I elected to let him despair over the fact that he could not."

"That's a good idea." I snickered. "Although, in light of recent events, I might take it a step beyond that."

"Oh, do tell!" Henry grinned.

"Well, my return here saw me reach the 18th step of my monastic path. As you see around you, I've finally opened Death's Door and stepped through. Before I came here, however, when I opened the door, I met the Death God. Nergal Nox."

If there were any tea being consumed at that moment, it would have been sprayed on every surface of the room alongside the sounds of gasps, pearl-clutching, and broken chinaware. Everyone from Leary to Corvus stared at me as if I just voiced an intention to fight for the light. Awkwardly. For seconds unto minutes until…

"What-did-he-look-like?" Corvus asked so fast it sounded like a single word.

"Frog-like," I said hesitantly, half wondering if he was listening. "Tall, lanky arms and legs, big belly with thin lips and horns for eyebrows. He was wearing our House clothes too."

"Those old things?" Azrael chortled.

"Yeah." I snorted. "He asked me a riddle that amounted to: 'Who are you? What am I? When will I begin spreading darkness across the Mortal Plane? Where will it start? How can I do it and why do I do it?' my answers were: 'The Twenty-Fifth child of the Nox, Amun. Nergal Nox, God of Death. Two years. In Maru. My ancestors. Me and history."

"You and history?" Telman raised his brow.

"My exact words were: 'I do these things for me, and all that existed before, so I may perfect what is to come.' In other words, my biggest motivation is to learn the unbiased truth of this universe and merge it with what I know to create the best future. But that's neither here nor there.

"After, he implied that even though I didn't know it, the Under, the Shadow Realm, and the Darkworld were part of my divinity. As were many creatures. Some of which have never existed before. Like draconic imps and… well, Devils of the Fae. Elven Devils, if you will. I told him I had no intention of usurping his domain but if it was given to me by my ancestors, I wouldn't deny it.

"To that, he said, 'Nor should you, for you misunderstand; all Void Children follow Zefroth's plan. You are he whom I've been abiding, to crown the Nox's Judge; Amun, God of Dying.'"

"God of Dying." Corvus, among many others, echoed. Yet it was Telman who spoke next.

Rather, he murmured. "Misunderstand... Zefroth's plan. Abiding."

"Oh, I love a good song." Henry began clapping, prompting Leary to join in.

"Oh yeah, he spoke in nothing but riddles. It made me think he was a bard, to be honest. And I know he was the power of electricity, as my core resonated with mine."

"Wonderful!" Telman beamed in a downright uncanny way. "I'll have to research what this means, of course."

"Of course." I nodded, then turned back to Corvus. "Now, I don't feel any different. However, no one is dying here so we'll see. At any rate, the title will coincide with one of the perks I'll gain after meditating here and reaching Step Nineteen. Undying Touch.

"In short, I'll be able to temporarily make people undying with my ki. So, when I fight Corym." I wickedly grinned. "He'll die when I say he dies."

"Nice!" Henry grinned madly.

"But before even that, we have a meeting with the Queen Demon Spider's drow".

"I don't foresee that going well." Telman huffed. "Demons never liked our kind, unsurprisingly. Drow, on the rare occasions we have met, love us. We often love them too. When they are not ruled by the webs of mindless chaos in their minds, that is."

"Yeah." I sighed. "Which is exactly why I'm going to bring some much-needed change and order to the drow of Zimysta Falls, and for a great reason too.

"Allow me to tell you a bit about my mother, Eved," I said, withdrawing the spider-shaped brooch she gave me not so long ago, along with a mana sensitivity potion and an arcana well that may have come from a different divine beast than I initially imagined. "Her and a young drow monk named Etan Za'Darmondiel."

——

[The Way of Death's Door, Step 18: Death's Door, Open. Task Complete.]

[Reward: Passive Monastic Death Perk: [Keep the Dead] - Your ki has developed to the point of influencing your undead in ways that transcend your deathly reach. So potent is the ki you imbue into your martial undead that it forms a spirit, creating an Undead Monk with the ki to raise martial undead from those they slay.]

[Reward: Monastic Reactive Death Perk: [Death's Door, Open] - So highly concentrated and invasive is your necrotic ki that the act of unleashing your natural ki results in an explosive burst that forces Death's Door open, causing all who peer inside to lose themselves to fear and madness whilst hexing those within range; and for those who have heard the Dead Door Knock, there is only death.]