Chapter 65 - 66: The Law of Silence - God of Death: Rise of the NPC Overlord - NovelsTime

God of Death: Rise of the NPC Overlord

Chapter 65 - 66: The Law of Silence

Author: Bri\_ght8491
updatedAt: 2025-07-25

CHAPTER 65: CHAPTER 66: THE LAW OF SILENCE

The skies above Darius’s dominion dimmed—not with shadow, but with stillness. A silence that bled into the bones of every creature under his rule. It was not natural, not a pause of fear or reverence. It was divine law.

A glowing sigil carved itself across the heavens—pulsing with runes of Origin.

"Let no voice name the aberration. Let no tongue utter what defies the Source. Let his name be severed from sound."

The decree from Origin was irreversible, etched into the very structure of concept and sound. Across Darius’s vast dominion, his people tried to speak his name—and found only breathless agony in response. Scribes who penned it found their words decayed, voices stripped. A holy silence consumed the world.

Even his strongest generals fell to their knees, unable to call to him. Loyalty now felt like chains of isolation.

Within the Black Citadel...

Celestia stood before Darius, her hand trembling slightly as she clutched a divine shard pulsing with pale light. Her expression was unreadable—half fury, half sorrow.

"I can fix this," she said softly. "But I’ll have to... give up something."

He narrowed his eyes, stepping down from his obsidian throne. "What?"

Her voice faltered. "My voice."

The silence deepened between them. Even Nyx, standing at the shadows behind them, shifted uncomfortably.

Celestia took a step closer, placing the shard into Darius’s palm. "You built all this from nothing. You ascended through agony, betrayal, and love. But if your people can’t even cry your name... you will become forgotten."

She smiled faintly. "Let me be your voice—without needing one."

The Ritual

By the altar of forgotten gods, Celestia knelt. Darius stood over her, his power flaring like black fire. Runes swirled in the air—binding, eternal.

The shard glowed with a terrible purity as she pressed it to her throat. A scream—never voiced—ripped through her soul as the light surged, searing into her essence.

Her mouth opened.

No sound came.

But her eyes glowed with radiant defiance and devotion.

Darius stepped back, trembling in a rare moment of broken calm. "You didn’t have to..."

She touched her lips with one finger, then placed it over his heart.

I chose to.

And with that, she faded into the shadows at his side, now truly his High Priestess—wordless, yet more powerful than ever.

The Cracks Begin to Show

The dominion struggled under the divine gag. Whispers of rebellion stirred—not out of hatred, but desperation. Some saw the law as proof that Darius had gone too far. Others believed he was a martyr, suffering in silence for them all.

Darius walked his realm with his head high, but inside, something broke.

He couldn’t even hear his own name.

Not from Nyx. Not from Celestia. Not even from the echoes of the void that once revered him.

The Ashen Courtyard

Darius stood atop a tower, staring into the shifting void beyond the Realm of Origin. The stars blinked like distant eyes.

Behind him, Nyx approached, bowing silently. She carried a token from one of his worshipers—a child who had cut out their own tongue in devotion.

He took it, staring at the bloodstained cloth.

"How many more will bleed... just to remember me?"

Celestia appeared beside him, silent, radiant.

She touched his hand.

No words. Just warmth.

And in that silence, he resolved to break the law itself—not just to reclaim his name, but to engrave it into eternity.

Nightfall in the Citadel

The silence stretched beyond mere sound. It touched the heart of every structure in Darius’s empire. Bells that once rang to mark his victories were mute. Priests knelt at altars with sealed lips, mouthing hymns that dissolved into nothing. The dominion had become a mausoleum of quiet reverence.

Yet in the heart of it all, Darius stood still—towering, regal, and cold. But something inside him was unraveling.

He passed through the Grand Hall, once vibrant with war councils and revelry. Now, even footsteps felt sacrilegious.

Nyx joined him without a word. Her lips pressed tightly together as she walked beside him. But her silence wasn’t submission—it was fury. Her blades whispered in their sheaths, hungry for violence.

She flicked her gaze toward him. We need to respond.

He nodded. "And we will."

His voice echoed unnaturally in the stillness. It no longer felt like it belonged here. Even the air recoiled from his name.

The Whispering Chamber – Celestia’s Transformation

Celestia lay atop the altar of glass, her body glowing with residual runes from the Voice-Severance Rite. Though she could not speak, her presence was overwhelming—divine, sharpened by sacrifice.

Darius sat beside her, his palm resting over her chest where her heartbeat pulsed strongly. Her lips moved slowly, forming invisible words.

You are still you.

But he wasn’t sure.

He whispered, "They’re trying to erase me, not kill me. That’s worse."

Celestia shook her head softly. She traced a symbol onto his palm—the symbol for Remembrance. It glowed for a moment, then faded, sinking into his skin like a brand.

She believed. Even without voice, she had etched his legacy onto her soul.

That was power. Not domination. Not fear. Loyalty born of choice.

Across the Outer Realms

Rebels, zealots, and warlords felt the weight of the divine silence. Some used it as proof that Darius had fallen from grace. Others twisted it—claiming they now held the true authority.

But in dark places, an opposite reaction festered.

A silent order formed, cloaked in black cloth, communicating only through blood-written scrolls and branded tongues. They worshipped him as The Unspoken God, believing the law of silence proved he transcended the limitations of the gods.

They began executing anyone who dared try to speak his name aloud, seeing it as blasphemy.

Balance was collapsing. His absence of voice created echoes that twisted into fanaticism.

Breaking the Sky

Darius stood on the peak of the Wailing Spire, surrounded by Celestia and Nyx. Below them, a hundred thousand loyalists gathered—silent, kneeling, hands raised in a voiceless chant.

He raised his hand to the sky.

Power crackled around him—distorted, unstable. A storm of paradoxes.

His voice, when it came, defied the law itself.

"I AM."

Reality split.

The runes of silence cracked. Thunder roared for the first time in days. The heavens bled fragments of law like shattered glass, falling upon the crowd below.

He looked toward Celestia, whose mouth trembled—yet no sound came.

She smiled through the tears in her eyes.

And in that instant, the Law of Silence knew fear.

Because Darius had not been erased.

He had been reborn.

As something far worse than the gods anticipated.

Novel