[-=Nox=-]

Have I ever told you about bringing back the dead and then murdering them again?

I believe that I have. You see, true necromancy is a complex, long forgotten science. It's forgotten because I had devoured all of Undead Gods and their lich attendants wherever I had found them. Presumably. It’s kind of hard to kill that which does not want to die and can just save their mental pattern in a random shiny rock or a spoon.

Personally, I don’t want to die either. Does that make me a necromantic God? Well, I walked myself right into that one, I suppose… but honestly not a whole lot of things want to die. Life clings to planets across the cosmos, ever changing, shifting, adapting. The very nature of evolution is the struggle of life to adapt to change.

Currently, I was in a bit of a crap situation. I was forced into deep sleep paralysis in a room filled with White magic. This was far worse than washing dishes as a servant.

Why was this such a big deal?

On the positive side there was no longer an obedience collar on me. On the negative side, there was an enormous, incredibly vile White rune above me. It kept my weak-ass body disabled while it tried to fuck with my soul, burning away, carving bits out of it that it didn’t find acceptable. My bits. ME.

Yes, everything has souls, even Goddesses. My soul had been very powerful long ago due to eating a whole bunch of things such as other Gods.

Yes, I was quite potent once… but now… now I was a victim of this dastardly rune and also of my own sad, low level human body which had no defence to resist it. With every breath my body took I felt weaker, less coherent. This horrible place was erasing me. It was made, designed for erasing things like me!

I wanted to scream, wanted to cry, but I could do nothing but fade, burn away. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Measures like… necromancy.

The science of necromancy isn’t about creation. It’s about conjuration of that which had existed once, long ago. It’s about being able to affect the present with the power from the past. It’s about persistence of memory. It's about reaching into the depths of the past and pulling on a thread.

For example, I personally, continuously persisted, conjured myself into existence with my Void mana, therefore I continued to exist.

Not only that, but I’m making you, my followers think about me, wherever you are. See how that works?

I wasn’t sure who I was even addressing. I was doubting that any of my followers were still alive. An unfortunate side effect of being immortal was losing your followers over time.

I only had one reliable follower at this moment - I was anchored into existence, made far more coherent and stable by a very curious foxkin acolyte that couldn't stop thinking about me. She crawled along the back wall, trying to find me. Unfortunately, she wouldn't reach me soon enough because a thick stone wall separated us, but I felt her belief and I was reassured by her thoughts of me. Her existence made me happy. I do wonder who knocked me out, though. That was annoying and unexpected.

Okay, no distractions now, only necromancy.

Souls of mortals, unlike their meaty shells, are basically energy patterns. During a pivotal moment of death or even incredible suffering they can imprint upon the nearby environment. This room of white limestone was a place unchanged for five thousand years. Many humans had passed through here. Many such energy patterns had permanently imprinted themselves into these walls. Many of them had slept upon this very bed where I now laid, dying.

"The Void sees all, the Void records all information within the System and as long as I have a pinhole into the past, I will know what has transpired here, long ago. I am Nox, the Goddess of Eternal Night. I am darkness between the stars. I am that which underpins the fabric of creation." I chanted to myself, reinforcing my being and opening up the aforementioned pinhole.

Looking through it, I tried to reach the strongest soul that had stayed in this room, carving through layers upon layers of imprints. Ghost after ghost flashed all around me, intersecting my soul.

I peered beyond, hundreds of years into the past, seeking power, seeking need and want, desperation and vengeance.

I found exactly what I was looking for!

There was suddenly a twenty year old girl in the room with me, weeping softly. She was here and also wasn’t because she was an echo, a two hundred and forty two year old ghost. I caught onto the thread of her power and started to pull on it. This ghost was strong, far stronger than my own pathetic body. Strong enough to help me, I hoped.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“I am Ingrid Feuerstahl.”

“Why are you here?”

“I am a prisoner of the Triumvirate of Virtue. I had committed the sin of lust!” The ghost stuttered. “Wait, who are you?”

“Where are we?” I pressed on, ignoring her question.

“The Kleinburg Convent of the Light. Whoever you are, fellow prisoner of just my imagination... I implore you, keep my secret, help me remember! I love Castillia! This room. This horrible, awful room, this place… it's making me forget her. I can feel it. I’m losing a part of myself. A very important part. I don't want to forget her! I love her! I love her with my entire heart! They can't take her away from me!!!" The echo wept.

"Ah. That would be the runes. The runes above you in the ceiling are erasing a dark part of your soul, killing a part of what you are."

"I'm not dark!!!"

"You are… or I would not be able to reach out to you. Admit it, accept it."

"Okay…" Ingrid wept. She was quite the distraught, furious, exasperated ghost.

"Tell me what this place is. Who are they? Tell me how you got here." I demanded.

"Castilla and I. We were best friends from when we were just kids. She was always wild, focused, adventurous. She was unbending. We... often stole my father's sailboat to glide above the Edge mountains across the currents of magic. We dreamt of making the world a better place, dreamt of uniting all of the people of every continent in the sky. We joined the church to make the world a better place. We became dedicated acolytes of Virtue. For years we’ve worked for this Convent. Castilla was very clever, determined. She found a way to unlock the heart of the White Tower of the ancients!"

I perked up. The Tower was important. “What had happened in the heart of the Tower?”

"I don’t know. I never went in. When she came out of the Tower... She was different. She was more. The Tower had changed her," the echo stuttered. "The Tower made her impossibly strong, different, beautiful… perfect. That’s when I knew that I loved her, wanted to be hers forever.”

"...and then?" I prompted the weeping ghost.

"The Knights caught us kissing under the fountain of Virtue. They separated us. She was somehow able to fend off the Knights that held her. She ran, left me behind. I've not seen her in so long!" The ghost wept. "I remained a prisoner in this Convent. They told me that she was cursed, evil, broken. They told me that I would forget her, that I would feel better in time from the power of the well. I don't know what to do. With every passing hour I feel like I'm forgetting her more and more!"

"Tell me more of this prison."

"The Convent of the Light. It's the dynamo of the Triumvirate of Virtue. Legate Amadeus is in charge here. He can read my thoughts! I cannot lie to him, cannot trick him. Me and Castilla used to work with dungeon cores beneath the white mountain that the Convent stands on."

"Dungeon cores?"

"Thousands upon thousands of dungeon cores sit deep in the catacombs beneath us. A thousand shelves standing upon the great triskelion rune, interlinked, interconnected, impossible to steal. The rune unites and takes power from the dungeon cores and transmits it to the White Towers across Europa. Castilla had figured it all out, told me all about it.”

“How do the cores get to the catacombs?” I asked.

“Adventurers destroy dungeons, whenever and wherever they appear on our continent. They take the cores and bring them to the Convent, surrender them to the Knights as part of their Quests. The Knights of Virtue deposit the cores into the slot within the courtyard fountain, from where they roll down into the storage area.”

"I see."

"Please help me! Please! I beg of you! I don't want to forget her! I can barely remember her face!!! Her silver hair and purple eyes… uhh..."

"Very well." I said. The ghostly echo and I were separated by centuries, but we were sharing the same bed, sharing the same unchanged space, sharing the same desire to fight, to remember something, to fight. She had no mana and I had no way to wake up my body.

This was the most important, the pivotal moment in my necromancy spell.

"I am where you are. You are where I am. We wish the same thing - the destruction of the rune above us.”

“Yes.” She whispered.

“Good. Take my hand in yours, wield me. Make a pact with me for just a brief moment. Share your power with me and I will guide you. Trust in me. Open up to me."

She did. Her ghost was open to me and I saw her talent and beginnings of a great power that she would one day grow into. I knew her talent - she was a Divider.

"Picture an all dividing line stretching from the fate line on your hand. Put all of your will into it. Point it at the rune above you and say the word... Sunder!"

The ghost raised up her right hand while holding onto me with her left. She was strong. She could do it, I knew. I gave her my Void mana.

"SUNDER!" We spoke in unison as one.

The sleep rune above me cracked in half as our combined power and will cleaved it in twain.

"Thank you." She whispered, fading away, breaking up into stardust with a sad smile. Her mission was done.

It worked! I was incredibly lucky to find such a helpful, cooperative echo in this prison. The ancient ghost had aided me, with passionate vengeance. Alas, she was just a two century old echo that I had pulled into being with a Void spell activated within my soul. Real Ingrid was probably long dead by now. The Convent had broken her while this vile White rune had killed, erased her love for another human.

I would not die here.

I knew enough to defeat this horrible place now.

I was awake. The rune above me was broken in twain by a barely visible line. It no longer functioned.

I was in a tiny room made of white limestone. Looking around I noticed yet another blatant thievery of my rune of devouring on the doorway. It was incrementally leeching energy from me, but not as bad as the now broken rune in the ceiling. I was getting really fed up with this misuse of my work!

I wasn’t going to surrender, wasn’t going to submit. I’ve had enough of observing the sad state of affairs all around me, of being pushed around by the humans of this epoch who had failed to acknowledge my divinity and saw me as a mere, pathetic human. It was time for a miracle, nay a multitude of miracles!

I realised that I didn’t prepare any miracles. Damn it Nox, plan ahead next time!

I looked inside of myself and set a long-term Void spell to work on my blood.

I saw that I was wearing a new white robe. No cape this time. I missed my old cape with pretty holes. I took off the robe. It would do for my first miracle. This place liked dungeon cores? I would give them one. Dungeon cores were simply the controlling element and also the battery that had manifested in the center of one of my dungeons. It was all a part of the amazing System that I set up to train my humans. These humans were ruining my dungeons!

I stuck out my tongue, pointed my hand at the stained glass window and made the tiniest circle possible. It flashed, detonating with a small bang, shattering one of the glass panels. I grabbed the colorful glass shard and cut a line across my hand. Purple, glittering blood started to escape from my arm. I thoroughly soaked the white robe in it.

The cut on my hand slowly sealed itself. I waited until the robe was thoroughly infused with Void-blessed essence. I was sacrificing a lot of myself, giving up a part of myself in order to create something entirely new.

I balled up the wet robe into the approximate shape of a sphere, held the cloth ball next to my mouth and kissed it. I dug my tongue at the Void essence-soaked robe, pouring all of my Void mana into it. Because the blood in the cloth was infused with Void, it did not explode. It was the same as kissing my acolyte. I weaved the mana into a very complex spell with an activator, binding the divine blood and the while robe together, reshaping and changing it into the shape of a dungeon core.

I now had exactly one and a half active Void mana left to work with. I felt woozy.

The door clicked open. I dropped the little shard of glass. A knight clad in white armor entered into the room. I turned towards him, examining his armour with my tongue scanner. He was very high level, too powerful for my pathetic body to defeat. I bowed my head in submission.

“You are awake?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Wait. Is that a dungeon core?!” He froze looking at what I cradled in my arms.

“It is indeed. I have defeated a dungeon.” I lied.

“Uhhh…”

“I’m donating the core to the Convent as is tradition!” I said with a big smile. “No need to thank me. I know that I’m amazing.”

“How?! You didn’t have it on you when we found you.”

“I had to escape from a dungeon full of horrible enemies, so I hid it in my.... you know what.” I whispered at him conspiratorially. “It rolled out of me, while I had a refreshing nap! I feel much better now! I think that the Light of the Convent is healing me! Thank you!”

“Hrmf.” The knight choked. “Very well. Let us take the core to the well.” He grabbed the fake dungeon core from my hands. It looked very dungeony and sphere. I definitely didn’t just make it with a divine miracle. Mwa ha ha ha.

But seriously, though, this thing would pass for one easely. It was very much a dungeon core on the outside, but inside… well that’s a whole different story.

Everything in the Convent was part of a system. All I had to do was act like a little cog that knew what it was doing and everything would fall into place.

“Where is your robe?” He asked as we stepped out of the cramped room.

“Took it off because it was hot.”

“I see.” He said, clearly too lazy to search through the room for a robe that no longer existed. After all, how could a robe just turn into a dungeon core? It definitely couldn't. Such a thing was impossible for a human level zero adventurer like myself. Even stealing a core from a dungeon was a bit pushing it, but maybe I got really lucky when my party died horribly? Yeah, that seemed like a reasonable explanation.

“You are ready for the tests of purity?” He asked.

I nodded. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was sure that I could cheat my way out of their idiotic tests. The big, armoured knight took me to the center of a courtyard and sat me on a bench in front of a huge, white fountain.

He put his hand into the water, whispered something and put the fake dungeon core into a slot that unlocked itself within the side of the fountain. The sphere slid inside with ease, rolling down a great spiral down a well towards the catacombs beneath the mountain. I stuck out my tongue to check how it was doing. I saw it pass through numerous shields, pass through myriads of runes designed to keep out everything but dungeon cores from the slot.

My tongue caught fire. The well was radiating, blasting out White mana. This place was very unhealthy for me. Ow. Ow. Ow. I shut my mouth, letting my tongue heal, hiding inside my human’s aura. The well was pretty dangerous, but it didn’t attack me directly like the thrice-damned sleep rune above the room.

Before my tongue burned out I saw that numerous lines of power transit went out of the well. This was the well from which my gemstone of healing was getting mana. The dungeon cores in the deep were clearly reinforcing, empowering a lot of artifacts for the church of Virtue. So that’s how these sneaky humans stayed in power over thousands of years - they didn’t need an actual God to bless their artifacts, they simply had an absurd number of dungeon cores linked to their weapons, making them all "Divine" level.

There were runes all around the fountain powered by the cores, runes against elementals, against damage, against any sort of a direct magical attack or theft. Every stone within the well made it untouchable. The sneaky Virtuous made the dungeon cores impossible to steal from the catacombs as every new core added to the power of the well's security system.

Clever little humans. Dungeon cores were connected to beast cores! The healing gem that sat inside me was a beast core. There was a beast core within the knight’s sword, powering it from the well.

I smirked. The knight was watching me. The awful well was making me feel bummed out and tired. I started to wobble a little. A female acolyte in a white robe and a red cape wielding a pearl of Inquiry emerged from the convent. Ah, a Searcher. That's what she was called. Thanks, human brain. She was yawning.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, having approached me.

“Much better, thank you!” I lied. I felt awful.

“Good to hear!” The girl smiled.

I smiled back at her. Pretending to be human was getting easier with each day.

“Thank Virtue! Our well is already cleansing your soul! It's working! See, I told you it would work. Only one Void mana now!” She smiled at the knight and looked back at me. “Now we just have to wait till the last Void point is gone and you'll be cured!"

The knight made a grunting noise of agreement.

“We still have to test her Virtue. She managed to stay awake.” The knight said.

“Yeah, okay.” The Searcher nodded.

“Rotate for me, slowly, okay?” The Searcher asked. “I need to see all of your Aura.”

I stood up and started to rotate, presenting all of my human curves to them.

“Hrmmm…” The Searcher muttered. “I don’t understand. The Aura is pure white. I've never seen anyone with an aura this pure. Not a single other color. No dark shades.

No dim spots. How did the Void get in?”

“Maybe it was a spooky, extra... evil curse?” I said meekly. I wasn’t about to tell them that I invaded this pathetic body through the tongue.

“Do you feel different? Evil? Does the curse hurt?”

“I feel great! I think it’s fading away already, thanks to this blessed place!” What a stupid question. These humans were truly morons.

“Sit on the bench and show me your feet?” She asked.

I sat down and pointed my human feet at her.

Her frown deepened. “Lie down?”

I stretched out on the bench. She pointed a hand at my head and said only one word. “Sleep!”

I didn’t have the energy to move quick as the sleep spell struck me in the head. I cursed my fate as her sleep spell overwhelmed my human brain.