Necros did not speak immediately. For a being who had existed for longer than Ludwig could properly comprehend, silence probably meant very little. Seconds, minutes, and centuries might have carried the same weight to Death, yet watching him hesitate still felt strange.
The white soul of Malakar remained suspended within his skeletal hand. Wrath, Envy, and Pride had received no such consideration when they returned to his domain.
Necros had known exactly what to do with each of them. There had been a deliberate cruelty to their placement, with every punishment designed specifically for what its Usurper represented.
Pride had been placed beneath his feet. Wrath had been forced to serve as support, while Envy remained beside a power it could never covet or take.
