The Lord of Ragnarok

The Lord of Ragnarok

Chapter 26: Sins of the Father

Camp Evans - Central Vietnam - Earth - 1968 - Mannulus’ P.O.V.

Everything felt off. I raised my hand to see the body I had become accustomed to still there, but the runes no longer glowed. Slowly I sat up, and as I looked around I noticed that I was on a military cot of some kind. Images of a war I was never part of, in truth I was born after, came to my head. I didn’t know why I was here. I had been hit by the chain lighting from that attack with the girl, but being here was odd. I looked to see several soldiers, all of which seemed to be carrying on as if I was one of them, or more likely as if they couldn’t see me.

“Interesting, isn’t it?”

I looked to my left and saw a woman sitting there. She smiled at me, her head resting in her hands, which were in fact on her lap. My eyes widened as I studied her.

“Yes, I am a dullahan, a reaper as you most likely call us,” she said with a giggle, “And you are here because I am not able to claim you.”

I relaxed, and then looked at the soldiers around me, “So, why here?”

She smiled, “Because I like to come here. All of these soldiers are going to die. Each and everyone of them. But, they aren’t all going to die right away.”

She pointed to a soldier who was shaving, “He’s going to die in about twenty years. Cancer from Agent Orange,” she then pointed to a soldier holding a bible and reading it, “He’s going to die tomorrow, but before he does he will get a radio call out enabling his side to napham the area he’s in resulting in saving hundreds of other lives.”

I looked at them both, “Why not spare him?”

She laughed, “Oh, I do forget that despite the fact you’re more or less immortal you’ve still got a mind of a mortal,” she picked her head up, placed it on her shoulders, and then put on a lacy choker that held it in place, “Think of it like this. While I am able to move through any point of time, where there is death, my purpose isn’t to change history. I have to ensure that certain things happen. If he lives then it displaces death. That means that someone else has to take his place. That person might be someone who would come up with the video game that brought you to where you are now. If that happened, then you wouldn’t be you anymore.”

I shook my head, “Okay, so, you just collect?”

She beamed, “That’s right. Although I’ve already collected, but we had a few minutes, and I wanted to talk to you.”

I studied her, “Why me?”

She neared me, “Because you fascinate me. The world you're in, well your body is on, is new. My duties have spread, and I’ve been forced to recruit more reapers. Of course the old way is to find a fallen warrior, man or woman, offer them the chance to become a dullahan, and then let them take their place. It’s still in practice, but it’s highly ineffective. That’s when I really took notice of your guild. All of you are special, but not cut out for my line of work. Instead I want the chance to have myself, and a few of my trusted associates, to breed with some of the guild members. A new group of reapers, born from this new world, all to travel it and reap as needed.”

I studied her for a moment, and a small part of me almost welcomed the idea of having a potential alliance with death itself, but then I stopped that line of thought. I was a necromancer. Death was my playground, I could raise the dead, create zombies, revive those long dead to full life, and it was all in abilities.

“You do realize that I’m a Necromancer, right?” I asked, “I basically control the dead.”

She laughed, “Sure, you control dead bodies, and you can even cheat and bring someone back, but you don’t control death,” she said her eyes hard like steel, “Death is wild, untamed, and uncontrollable,” she said as she stood.

The barracks of the military camp disappeared and we now stood inside of a tall marble building. It was polished, the walls and floors almost a seamless black, and occasionally there was a wisp of gray that looked as if it was the only baston of color in an otherwise formless void. She walked toward part of the wall, and it separated to show a long hallway, which at the end of it was a throne. She walked toward it, taking off her clothes as she moved. Her skin was alabaster white, her hair was black as night, and done in a French braid. She appeared at the throne and two armor clad skeletons moved toward her, lifting a long Kimoto to her shoulders. She slipped into it, adjusting it, correctly, and then turned to face me as they tied the ribbon around her waist.

“I wanted to speak to you, as an equal, because much like me you simply were thrust into a world, and a job, that you never asked for,” she waved the skeletons away, and I watched as they entered the walls around her, “But make no mistake, I am not controlled by you, or any other Necromancer.”

She closed her eyes and suddenly she transformed into an alicorn. She was shaped like myself, but she was even more regal looking than Solar Flare or Luna. She opened her eyes and I saw two perfectly black orbs. I felt small, pathetic, and uncertain in her gaze. She lifted a hand, and I could see a world I had only seen on the shows. I saw Equestria, and then I saw explosions, so numerous that the entire world seemed to be white for a moment before it turned back and I could see the devastation.

“I am Death there,” she said, and then she waved her hand, making the image disappear. Another image flashed before me.

This time I saw what looked like my own world, only the technology looked as if it was left over from the 1950’s and 60’s. Explosions rocked the streets, blowing away buildings, killing millions in seconds, and then she waved it away, “And I am Death there.”

She studied me for a moment, “You control what I have changed. You can even snatch a soul from its rest and return it to the living. This is something that you are able to do quite easily, but you are unable to control me. I choose when a being leaves its mortal trappings. I choose when worlds end, and I often attempt to do so kindly.”

I looked at her, “Why even ask?”

She laughed, her perfect alabaster coat and black mane looked untouched by the movement. Every single hair remained perfect, and she stood. She was gorgeous, there was no denying that, but I kept my mind from slipping into thoughts and desires that would be unbecoming.

“Because, my dear boy, beings like us are bound to some rules,” she walked toward an empty pitcher, her horn flared for a moment, and suddenly the pitcher was filled with wine.

“Look at this wine. If it was purchased, brought forward, and presented then we would know that somewhere out there a group of individuals went through the trouble of picking the grapes. They then crushed them, they added yeast, sugar, water, and placed it into a container that allowed the yeast to breed and create the wine itself. Of course afterward it is strained, bottled, and chilled. While the process has changed, some, it is still very much the same. Great amounts of work for a little payout.”

She poured me a glass, “But then what if I simply created it, or you did, or someone summoned up a demon and asked for a bottle?” she smiled, “Then this person is cheating the tax man so to speak. They’re removing the delicate balance that should exist.”

I watched as she drank her glass, “They become cheats, and the universe despises cheats. It does all it can in order to right the balance of the world. Because I created that pitcher of wine someone will work double as hard to make half as much. That is the rule of the universe.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

She looked at me, “Because payment is due,” she said simply.

I studied her, “What does that mean?”

She sighed, and I could tell that she was no longer amused. She touched me, and I felt the power she held. It was easily able to rival my own, it was even possible that it could surpass my own, and I couldn’t help but admit that I felt worried.

“Stop being coy. You’ve brought back several individuals, and the world you’ve done so in is practically new. There hasn’t been time for the payment to be made, and yet you’ve upset the balance again, and again. So, I’ve decided to collect my payment. I want to be with child, I have several servants that will be with child, and we will claim your guild, and yourself, as payment.”

She neared me, a predatory look in her eyes, and she leaned forward. I felt a kiss on her cheek, and then a light covered me. For a moment nothing happened, and then the light changed. It moved over to her, covering her, and once it was finished there was a slave collar on her neck. She looked surprised at what had happened. She tried to remove it only to find that it was bound to her.

“What did you do?!” she roared at me.

I smiled, “The runes, that cover my body, are more than decoration. There are numerous spells woven into them, and one of them is a reflection of magic. It keeps any spell that is unwanted from touching me. You tried to cast an enslavement charm on me, and now it seems that you are the slave.”

My moment of arrogance and assumed victory was over quite quickly. I felt something grasp inside of me, and I fell to the ground.

“Yes, I may be the slave, but then you share in the burden, don’t you?”

I felt pain, worse than anything I had ever felt before, surging through me. I looked at her unable to understand what was going on.

“What you feel is death. It is amplified over several billion times, and it will never end. Because of what I am I can endure it, but you, oh, I fear you will lose your mind if we remain like this.”

I looked toward her, and I could understand exactly what she meant now. Whatever had caused her to become Death, and I was no longer convinced that she was otherwise, had changed her in such a way that she could handle massive amounts of pain. Whatever it was that transformed me into Mannulus had basically turned me into Mannulus. He was bound to his body. His very soul was bound to his body. I looked at her. I was here, with her, and that meant that I couldn’t be in two places at once. I hurt so badly because I was feeling this in my soul, not my body. I closed my eyes, finding the gate that separated both my body and soul.

It was there, opened enough to join the two, but closed enough so that one would not completely bleed into the other. I had created an imperfect souljar, and I had to fix it. I opened the gate, allowing my soul to saturate my body, and I could see her smug expression changing. Soon I stood there, my breathing heavy, and I looked at her.

“Perhaps you underestimated me.”

She looked at me, rolled her eyes, and then looked away.

“No, I didn’t,” she looked back at me, “You cheated, but you took the last step. We are one now.”

I looked at her, “Wait, what?”

She neared me, “You’ve taken a step to grant you the power of a lesser god. In essence that is what you are now,” she took my hand, placed it under her kimoto, and I felt the softness of her breast, “And because you have enslaved me, despite that also being a cheat, I accept you as my husband. We are bound.”

I shook my head, “Yeah, that’s not happening. I am already married to five different mares,” I said, “And honestly I don’t see the room for another.”

She laughed, “You don’t understand. It is done. I am bound to your soul, you’ve bound your soul completely to your body, and thus, you’ve forced me to become material. I am every bit as real as any of your other wives. I exist just as any of them do,” she said.

I almost felt panic, but then I calmed myself, “And because you are enslaved to me it means that I have a say over what plans you wish to carry out?”

She studied me, turned from me, and growled, “Yes, you do.”

I felt relief, “Then the idea that you are going to use the guild as breeding stock ends now.”

“You can’t do that!” she shouted as she turned back around.

I looked at her, seeing the way she was distressed, and her solid black eyes were wide with what appeared to be nearly unbridled fury.

“I will not allow you to force any of my guild members, guardians, or other citizens of the Temple into a physical situation they didn’t ask for.”

Her expression began to change, “Then perhaps we may have a compromise,” she said as she neared me. Her hand stretched out, touching my muzzle, “My servants will not force the matter, but should any member of your guild, or citizen of your temple, willingly agree, they will mate.”

I understood her game, but I did have a way to help stack it in my favor, “If they are in a relationship, married, or unable to mentally handle a sexual relationship they are to be left alone.”

She sighed, “Very well, I suppose that means you were supposed to be off limits as well?”

I shook my head, “Obviously there’s a loophole in that our interaction happened before setting down ground rules,” I said as the room we were in turned black. A moment later I found myself on the ground, my robes burned, my chest singed, but alive. The runes had attempted to redirect the wild magic back at the caster, but there was no caster. It was simply an orb thrown, and the magic couldn’t go back to someplace that didn’t exist anymore.

I heard a gasp, and I looked to see my newest bride standing there. Still in her Kimoto she was back to her near human form. Her head in her hands.

“Holy fockin’ hell, what the fock is that?!”

She smiled at Clopmaniac, “So pleased to meet you, all of you, I am Obitus,” she saw the confused looks, “I am Death herself.”

There was a few steps back, “Mannulus, what the fock happened?”

I looked at Clopmaniac, “Ultimately, I took a tour around the afterlife for a bit,” I said as I looked around, “Our business here hasn’t changed. We need to locate the Raiders, the area where the Raider’s Rye is growing, and the person that is responsible for handing it out.”

I felt a hand, and I looked to see Luna, “Beloved, do you not need a moment?”

I shook my head, “I don’t have a moment. We have got to do this,” I breathed out, “How long was I out?”

She smiled, “A few seconds.”

Everything that had happened, all that I had seen and done, and it had transferred over to a few seconds here. It didn’t feel right in the slightest. Regardless, it didn’t matter. I looked at Obitus who seemed to be admiring her physical form.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where the raiders are, would you?”

She looked at me, smiled, and then lifted her head to her shoulders. She then connected it, and put on her choker. She walked toward us, and I watched as she studied me for a moment, “I know where they’ve been, and where most of them are at the moment. After all, they bring death to where they go, and I am Death.”

I gave her a nod, “Okay, where are they?”

She closed her eyes, lifted her finger, and pointed toward the north.

“They are in that direction, not too far, maybe a day, a day and half away. It’s a large village, and they’re fighting, but they don’t stand a chance, do they?”

What she said was true. Normal villagers stood no chance against the raiders. It was possible that the village might have some warriors, but their warriors would tire, become demoralized, and the raiders were so twisted by the Raider’s Rye it was likely they would keep going as long as the promise of food was there. They were killing machines, and there was little that could be done about them other than completely destroy them, or attempt to heal them.

The signs pointed to a group so large that they were effectively an army, and we didn’t have the resources to heal all of them. It was likely we were going to have to kill more than I had originally believed. I had hoped that we would be able to save at least a third of them, but that number was dwindling fast. At the current rate it was likely we would maybe be able to save about a fourth. Even that was possibly an overestimate.

“Solar, I want you, Sombra, Lala, Mira, Stephine, and Mistress Marevelous to search for the one that is distributing the Raider’s Rye. Find them, destroy the Raider’s Rye, and capture them. Bring them to the temple and they would be judged accordingly,” I looked at everyone else, “We need to find the Raiders and stop them. This isn’t to be considered an easily winnable battle. We’re dealing with a large group with massive amounts of numbers on their side. Additionally they aren’t going to break and run from us, and from what we’ve seen they have ways of casting powerful magic.”

I studied them, “We end this now.”

Village of Mors Ignea Cretaea - Twenty - Four hours later - Clopmaniac’s P.O.V.

I used ta love playing Fallout, bloody hell, I loved Ashes of Equestria as well, but neither matched Ragnarok. The only thing I liked more about those two than Ragnarok was the gritty realism. I always thought that was presented better in those games, hell, it was presented better in Fallout Equestria and Project Horizons. Now… Now I felt sick. Before me was an abattoir pure and real. I saw children, most still in single digits, hanging by their intestines, their heads removed.

I could hear shouting, insane giggling, and I felt my blood boil. I rushed forward, Blackjack near me, and Gin Rummy behind both of us. They were in the center of the village, hundreds of them, women and men were strapped down on a makeshift platform, dozens of Raiders gathered around their forms. They didn’t notice us, but I heard every single word. I heard it and I knew those focks were gonna fockin’ die!

“I’m bringin’ the Rape Caravan!” one of them shouted.

“Hold his head still! I want to brain him with axe while you fuck him!”

“MEAT!”

“SO GOOD! MEAT! TASTES SO FUCKING GOOD!”

“MORE! MORE MEAT FOR ME!”

“STRIP THE FLESH! SALT THE WOUND! HEHEHEHEHE!”

I saw a bolt from Blackjack’s crossbow fire, and the moment it hit a Raider she caught fire. She screamed, trying to put it out only to have it burn hotter and faster. I hoped that she would bump into more of them. From behind us came more of us. I understood, maybe for the first time, what Mannulus had been trying ta do with the Theocracy. There wasn’t anything left here ta save. They needed ta be cut away from the healthy society

Gin Rummy’s P.O.V.

I looked at hell. This was hell, and it was exactly what I remembered from Stable 99. I wasn’t going to give them the chance to hurt anyone else. I would make sure that those they were hurting were saved, and I was going to help put these monsters down! I had found that my shackle spell still worked, and I began using it. I didn’t have a ton of material to pull from, but I used the material around me. Iron ore from the ground, bits of metal from the broken weapons, everything and anything I could use for the spell I did.

I watched as dozens were shackled, and then I watched as they broke their own arms to get loose. They didn’t seem to care about the pain. They laughed insanely, and I understood. We couldn't take prisoners. That was my mistake in 99. I tried to take prisoners. I tried to do things the right way, and instead now I had to do what needed to be done.

Obitus P.O.V.

I’m certain that Mannulus believes that I take some twisted pleasure in this. I don’t. These people are being slaughtered needlessly. Granted, all of them are going to die eventually, and regardless if it is Raiders, Bandits, Plague, Floods, or Famine it will happen. But none of them should have died like this. Just being here, in this world, I felt their true ends. Most were meant to live full lives. Several were meant to become grandparents, others were meant to die on quests, but none were meant to be raped, beaten, and eaten to death. As Death I am not supposed to take sides. Death is fair. Often, more often than anything else, it is the only fair thing.

Instead I found myself breaking my own rule. I pulled my scythe, and I began cutting the connections between the reapers and their souls. They dropped, like flies, but the more I cut the more that came to me. I felt their number growing, and I realized that Mannulus had been correct. This was not a simple affair. I had taken well over twenty souls, and easily ten times their number had taken their place.

Mannulus’ P.O.V.

Fighting against the Raiders I pulled my magic and I felt the connection to the dead. There were dozens of bones, hundreds of mutilated bodies, and I began to reach out to them. I felt the dead and I began to raise them. I didn’t connect their souls, because there was no need. I instead directed a well formed hatred toward the Raiders. I sent those bodies toward them, and I watched as the Raiders began to put those bodies down again.

The raiders were exactly what the Raider’s Rye made them into. They were vicious, merciless, and psychotic. They saw the risen bodies not as something to be feared, but more victims to be put down. They fought with the kind of psychotic abandonment that was the embodiment of what they were. They acted like a destructive force, and I knew that the bodies I had raised weren't a match for them. They were never meant to be a match for them. They were a distraction while we destroyed their numbers.

The battle wasn’t over in an hour, or a few hours, or even a day. It was six days of fighting, six days of keeping the magic going, and six days of rescuing those uninfected. Finally, after all of the death, and all of the violence, we stood victorious. But it was a hollow victory. A village that had been on the cusp of becoming a small city, was reduced down to sixteen people. They had been double that number, but the others began showing signs of infection. I had them bound to return with us. So small a number to be saved, and in truth I felt as if I had failed.

The uninfected villagers were brought with us as well, and I hoped that they would thrive inside of Oppidum Village.