Warhammer Fanfic: Starting with a Core Cabin

Under the pale moonlight, the forest was eerily silent.

Duanmu Huai strode through the dark woods, his Thunder Warhammer in hand. The headlamp of his power armor cut through the gloom, illuminating the twisted vines and crumbling stone pillars ahead.

This is the place.

His gaze fixed on the pillars, his expression turning grim.

The Elf Scout, being more experienced in intelligence gathering than Alisa, had provided Duanmu Huai with several haunted locations near Silver City—even if she didn't understand his purpose. Among them was this very forest, Moonfall.

According to her, this forest had once been the lair of a vile necromancer, long ago slain by soldiers. Afterward, rumors of hauntings began—not just whispers, either. Mercenaries, merchants, and even patrols had reported hearing terrifying wails and screams, with some claiming to have seen eerie lights and music deep within the trees.

The local lord had sent investigators, but none returned. Eventually, the place was abandoned.

Duanmu Huai hadn't come here out of mere curiosity or for some side quest. No, he was searching for a weapon—one capable of striking down the God of Decay.

Among the Chaos Gods, the God of Decay was one of the most troublesome. While all were formidable, Duanmu Huai ranked it second in sheer difficulty to oppose.

The reason lay in its nature.

Most assumed the God of Decay symbolized death and destruction, given its association with plagues and pestilence. But that wasn't the case at all. While it lacked the raw power of the God of Tyranny or the esoteric magic of the God of Trickery, its mastery over unseen pathogens was unparalleled. Some even claimed every virus—from the common cold to apocalyptic plagues—was its handiwork.

Worse, the God of Decay was inclusive. Unlike other Chaos Gods, which demanded trials of blood and fire, it welcomed all—beggars, kings, nobles, warriors—with open, rotting arms. To its followers, spreading disease wasn't evil. No, it was an invitation—a way to bring others into their "loving, egalitarian family." Even the dead weren't discarded; their decaying bodies nourished new life, perpetuating the cycle.

Life, unending.

Players often joked that the God of Decay was the "Benevolent Father" or the "God of Life and Hope" (tongue firmly in cheek).

And in a way, it was true. From a purely biological standpoint, the God of Decay was a nurturing force—just one whose values clashed violently with most people's.

It was like keeping pets. Most preferred cats or dogs, but some chose maggots. And not only that—they insisted everyone else should too.

That was the problem.

As the "God of Life," the God of Decay couldn't be repelled by conventional means. Even holy magic and divine light had limited effect. Its followers might be pustulent, reeking abominations, but they were still living beings—like maggots, flies, or mosquitoes. And you couldn't smite a mosquito with holy fire.

So, to truly eradicate the God of Decay's forces, only two methods worked.

First: Burn everything. Reduce them to ash, and the problem vanished.

After slaying the Plague Apostle, Duanmu Huai had the Elf Scout light a bonfire just to sterilize his power armor, standing in the flames until he was certain every trace of contamination was gone.

The second method? Death magic.

The power of undeath struck at the soul, extinguishing the flame of life itself. Not even viruses or bacteria could resist—true death left no survivors.

In short, death was the perfect weapon against the God of Decay. No matter how vile or resilient its followers were, they were still alive—and all life bowed before the final wind.

Of course, dealing with the undead wasn't easy. Taming them—or vampire factions—was risky. Physical attacks were useless; only elemental or magical weapons could harm them. Otherwise, you were just walking into a slaughterhouse.

Duanmu Huai only had one psychic skill—Psychic Shock—but his Thunder Warhammer's lightning damage and the puppet cards (counted as magical) gave him an edge.

The question was—what lurked here? Undead? Or vampires?

In some ways, vampires were worse. But there was a silver lining: if a player got turned, they'd gain immunity to the God of Decay's plagues. Many players deliberately sought vampirism before invading its domain, then cured themselves afterward.

Too bad that's not an option in reality.

Duanmu Huai didn't doubt the Elf Scout's intel. After all, when she mentioned this place, he'd triggered a quest: [Investigate Moonfall Forest].

Where there was a quest, there was something worth finding.

With that in mind, he pressed forward. Olgis followed silently, as always—a shadow at his back. Since her summoning, the puppet girl hadn't spoken a word, giving him the impression of an automaton.

Then again, she basically is one.

Past the collapsed pillars, a ruined mansion came into view—a four-story stone structure, charred black by fire, its walls half-collapsed. The silence here was absolute. No birds, no insects, not even wind. As if sound itself had been erased.

"Doesn't seem like much…"

Duanmu Huai stepped to the entrance, scanning the hollowed-out interior. The mansion was a skeleton, its rooms choked with vines and weeds.

Then—

A faint sob.

His brow furrowed. He glanced at Olgis.

"Did you hear that?"

She shook her head.

The crying came again—wavering, almost illusory. But Duanmu Huai knew better.

Looks like we're in the right place.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he raised his hand.

Activate—Soul Resonance!

In the next instant, the scene before Duanmu Huai's eyes twisted violently.

The dark, dilapidated mansion transformed into a brightly lit estate. Light spilled from its windows, illuminating the entire structure. The overgrown courtyard was gone—replaced by a well-kept garden. Nearby, a gaunt-faced man stood before a gravestone, staring silently at the inscription.

Neither Duanmu Huai nor Olgis drew his attention—unsurprising, as the man was merely a remnant of this space, like the puppeteer in the dollhouse. Visible, but untouchable.

Then the man did something shocking.

He seized a nearby pickaxe and began smashing the tombstone apart.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

With frenzied swings, he shattered the grave, tore open the coffin, and clutched the lifeless girl inside.

"My daughter... You won't die. I won't let you!"

Cradling the corpse, he carried it into the mansion.

Curious, Duanmu Huai followed. But the moment he stepped inside, the scene shifted again.

In the parlor, a beautiful girl with long purple hair nestled in the man's arms by the fireplace, reading a picture book. She looked identical to the exhumed corpse—save for a massive bolt protruding from her skull. The man spoke softly, narrating the story.

"...In the end, the monster wandered eternally, searching for another like itself..."

"That's... so sad," the girl murmured.

The man smiled, patting her head. "It is. But understanding sadness is a step toward perfection. I'll make you flawless..."

"Okay!" She beamed. "Father, will you read another?"

"Tomorrow. It's bedtime now."

"Goodnight, Father."

As she left, the man's smile vanished. He hurled the book aside and clutched his head.

"This is wrong! She's not—!"

Gone was his gentleness. Now he snarled like a caged beast.

"She's not my daughter! Just a new soul wearing her skin! I KNOW THIS! Damn it... DAMN IT!"

His form flickered, then dissolved into the air.

Duanmu Huai narrowed his eyes. Then Olgis spoke—her first unprompted question.

"Master, I don't understand. Why did he deny her? Their physical data matches."

"Humans don't judge by flesh alone, Olgis. It's the soul that binds them."

"Soul?" Her head tilted.

"Personality. Emotions. The intangible things."

"I... don't comprehend."

"Keep watching." He patted her head and moved deeper into the mansion.

BANG BANG BANG!

Someone hammered at the front door. The purple-haired girl, now in pajamas, hurried downstairs.

"Father? What's happening?"

"Hide! Now!" The man paled, shoving her toward a basement door before answering.

Soldiers stormed in, weapons drawn.

"We've found you, necromancer!"

"You're mistaken—"

"Liar!" The captain spat. "Witnesses saw your dead daughter walking! Burn this plague-den to the ground!"

The man lunged to block them—

—and the captain's sword punched through his chest.

Thud.

He collapsed. The mansion itself began to tremble.

(End of Chapter)