Deus Necros - Chapter 290: Standoff

Riven's life turns upside down when Elysium's Multiverse absorbs planet Earth. On the fringes of a newly growing galaxy where magic and fantasy are both very real, the inhabitants of three merged worlds must find a way to survive the trials Elysium sets out for them. Riven finds himself thrust into a whirlwind of chaotic events just trying to make it out in one piece, learning how to craft the dark arts to do his bidding as he strives to keep his loved ones safe.But the powers of this new multiverse have other plans for Riven's tiny planet, and Elysium's worldwide trials are just the beginning.*A mixture of brutal violence, the darker aspects of humanity, and comedy. Centered around a blood mage / warlock and his demonic summons. This story is full of gory fight scenes, you have been warned.**Inspired by 'Defiance of the Fall', 'Primal Hunter', 'The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound', and 'Infinite Realm' series. I hope I do them justice.*

Liora was a pampered royal princess, with loving parents at the forefront and eleven royal brothers at her back. Always adorned with the finest silk and served with exquisite dishes while lounging in her palace.Her biggest concerns? Which dress to wear for a banquet and how many more hours she could nap before her royal duties caught up to her.But fate (or some seriously bad karma) had other plans. One moment, she was sipping fine wine and but the next moment-boom!—she wakes up in a world where people are eating each other, the sky is covered with ominous veils that look like it wants to swallow the world, and worse, her royal status means absolutely nothing.What she can tell more about her poor condition is that she has no servants, no food, and no idea how to fight off the disgusting zombies, who are trying to take a bite out of her.Just when she’s ready to scream at the heavens for an explanation, a cold mechanical voice rings in her head:[Welcome, Host. You have activated the Overlord System.]Overlord? That sounds powerful, right? Wrong. Turns out, she starts at the bottom of the food chain with no powers, no weapons, and zombies that see her as their next snack.While others awaken abilities like fire manipulation or super strength, she gets... a system that gives missions with questionable rewards and always tries to drown her in a huge debt.Fight a Level 2 Zombie with her bare hands? Sure, why not? Survive hordes of zombies while the system nags her? Classic. But as she battles to level up and gathers allies (some willing, some just too scared to say no). She realizes—maybe she isn’t as weak as she thought.Because when the world falls into chaos, only the strongest can rule. And if the system insists on calling her an Overlord, well… she might as well live up to the name.Power, danger, and a system that may or may not be trying to get her killed—welcome to the apocalypse.

I am a what, and where is my little friend? No, give it back right now!

What, back in a lab again? What a load of bull.

Finally, I’m dying... No, I got revived again.

Becoming a weapon for a kingdom? Meh, they can try and control me.

Medieval weapons? I like that. Give me all of them.

An Angle cult? Let’s destroy that.

Pure Dragons? I want one for myself.

Once upon a time, there was a makeup artist who possessed outstanding skills and top-notch aesthetic judgement. When he did makeup for various stars, he could embellish sharpness onto the smooth vases that lacked edges, and he could make models who exceeded the boundaries of aesthetics to appear delicate and soft, more approachable to people.

Male stars loved to request him, for he had a thorough understanding of masculine charm in particular, and the makeup he did was never garishly slathered in oils or powders, instead exuding a natural, dashing air of elegance.

Female stars loved to request him, because not only was he excellent in his skills, he was also everyone’s closest confidant; when they chatted, he could easily hold any conversation, and his mouth would be tightly sealed, never allowing anyone’s privacy to slip out.

Although this person was quite young, after getting by in the makeup industry the past few years, he was virtually considered as a distinguished personality in his profession, and would be referred to as a ‘master’ wherever he went.

But he had a terrifying secret. He needed to carefully tread on thin ice and couldn’t expose even the slightest traces; otherwise, nobody would invite him to work ever again, and nobody would apply to the classes he led anymore.

—He was a straight man.

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