The Hundred Reigns 176: Lux Vult (6) (Patreon)

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The last family dinner Simon attended was the one where he impersonated Balzam, and that one ended with Euphemia spitting at his face.

Simon had few hopes that this one would go any better as he stepped into the dining hall. Euphemia’s side of the family was already present, with Thalas glaring at him the moment he entered the room, Euphemia greeting him respectfully, and Norbelle immediately walked up to him. 

“Hello sister,” Simon greeted her, “it’s been a whi–”

She slapped him in the face before he could finish.

It didn’t hurt due to Simon’s invulnerability to non-magical weapons—manicured nails weren’t dragon claws—but it did surprise him and everyone else in the room. 

“Simon!” Norbelle cried as her fists hit his chest. “How dare you do this to me! How dare you!” 

“Calm down, daughter!” Euphemia ordered imperiously. 

“Is this about my marriage to your mother?” Simon asked as he gently pushed his sister back.

“Of course it is!” Norbelle snapped at him, though her reasoning proved different than what Simon expected. “If you wanted an incestuous union, you could have wed me! That way you would have saved me from an abusive marriage!” 

“Young lady, not another word!” Euphemia chided her. “This is not an incestuous union!”

“And Prince Verdis doesn’t abuse you,” Simon replied. 

“He’s boring,” Norbelle countered after calming down. “He’s so boring, I would prefer solitary confinement. How is that not abuse?”

What else did he expect from Norbelle again? “Verdis will grow on you, sister,” Simon said. “I promise you that.”

“With what, that black, invisible miasma eye in the middle of your forehead?” Norbelle put a finger on her lips, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I don’t remember the last Fatherlord having a third eye in the middle of his forehead.”

Thalas frowned at her. “Don’t you mean the Overlord?” 

“I know what I said, Tham-Tham.” From the way Thalas grunted, he didn’t like the nickname in the slightest. “Silly Simon, are you trying to imitate your dear sister?”

“You could say that,” Simon replied evasively, right as the doors opened. Lauriane walked into the room, followed by Dassein, Maublanc… and her. 

Anna had been a charred corpse and then a reconstituted body in a coffin the last time Simon saw her, so seeing her alive and whole again briefly spooked Simon into silence. Guilt for her murder overwhelmed him, even though the rational part of his mind kept telling him this was a different version of the Anna he had failed to save. He didn’t think he would ever fully get used to the cognitive dissonance. 

“What’s wrong, Simon?” Anna put her hands on her waist and smiled at him upon noticing his unease. “Has my beauty left you speechless?”

Simon quickly recomposed himself. “You could say that,” he said, ignoring the looks Euphemia and Maublanc sent him. “It’s… good to see you again, Anna.”

“Of course it is. I figured you would need someone lively in the castle, with your father’s death and all.” Anna grinned upon spotting the other gremlin in the room. “Norbelle, you’re back!”

“Anna, how have you been!” Norbelle rushed to her honorary cousin’s side and took her hands. “Have you crushed any Academy boys’ hearts yet?” 

“I was planning to, but then the regicide happened,” Anna replied with a laugh akin to a waterfall. “Would I have had that much success?”

“Oh yes, a few students would have killed each other for your hand. I was looking forward to it.” Norbelle rolled her eyes. “Thank Louis for ruining everything.”

“Where is he?” Thalas asked with a gruff look. “Too scared to show his face, the kinslaying bastard?”

“Louis is in his quarters with Isabelle,” Lauriane replied coldly. “He cannot leave the area without violating your mother’s judgment.”

“And I still say it is less than he deserves for his crime,” Maublanc declared. He seemed to be the only one slightly saddened by his blood-brother’s death, besides Thalas. 

“I still can’t believe you’re the new Overlord, Simon,” Anna said, biting her lips. “Could you…”

Simon put on his armor to satisfy her curiosity, with Anna whistling and Norbelle smirking from ear to ear. “Not too shabby,” the latter commented. “Not too shabby at all…”

“Seeing you in father’s armor is unsightly, bastard,” Thalas commented bitterly. 

“Thalas, be quiet,” Euphemia chided him. 

“Yes, Tham-Tham, that’s rude!” Norbelle said, smirking. “How can you talk that way to your new dad?!”

Anna and Dassein burst out laughing, while Thalas’ face turned so red that Simon wondered if he would die from shame on the spot. Euphemia’s patience wore thin, too. “Norbelle…”

“What?” Norbelle put her hands behind her back. “He’s not the father Thalas wanted, but he is the one that stepped up!”

Even the usually straight-laced Lauriane had to cover her mouth at the jab, and Thalas, in an act Simon felt incredible sympathy for, lunged at Norbelle to strangle her. His sister bravely hid behind her new stepfather. “Daddy, Mommy, Thalas is picking on me!”

“Enough!” Euphemia snapped once at her wit’s hand, waving her hand at her children. “Restraining Order!” 

Her magic enveloped Thalas and though it didn’t freeze him in place, he suddenly became incapable of actually reaching Simon and Norbelle. He walked towards them, putting one foot ahead of the other, yet the space separating him from his siblings had become an impossible barrier to cross. It just wouldn’t shrink.

“Ah, Norbelle.” Dassein gave his sister a pat on the back. “Still too feisty by half.”

“It’s what I do,” Norbelle replied with a smirk once her older brother gave up on trying to strangle her. “Anyway, what’s for dinner?”

Simon had the feeling this would be a looooong evening. 

Predictably, everyone took seats based on their loyalties, with Dassein and Lauriane sitting away from Norbelle and Thalas, while Maublanc moved next to Euphemia. Simon found himself between his future wife and Anna, to his disquiet. He did his best to avoid talking or looking at the latter, which he could tell she noticed. 

Thankfully, the food was good—a grilled leviathan on a bed of vegetables—and so was the spectacle. Simon’s forces had imported Grimm and Gregory from Magvolia along with Odette Kano, and the two demons had joined Gourmand to form a small troupe. Having a Jester, Acrobat, and Juggler performing together did open up new acts. Simon especially found their knife-throwing contest rather entertaining. 

“So… what happened to Rust Valley, by the way?” Anna asked as she tried to ease the atmosphere and catch Simon’s attention. “I flew over it on my way here, and it was full of lava, fire, and smoke.”

“Our new Overlord destroyed it with a spell,” Euphemia replied, almost casually. 

Anna’s head snapped in Simon’s direction. “What, really?”

“Yes.” Simon avoided Anna’s gaze and looked at his future wife instead. “Were you watching?”

Euphemia looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “You are the Overlord. Everyone is always watching you.”

“I admit I can scarcely believe the reports myself,” Lauriane admitted, steepling her fingers. “From what I gathered, your spell devastated the entire region. Could you cast it on Lore or Illusea?”

“This ‘Edict’ is an Overlord ability whose limits I am currently investigating,” Simon replied evasively. “Did Father ever use one, stepmother?”

“Once,” Euphemia admitted. “He raised storms that destroyed Bujan’s fleet early during the Reformation. The chaos raged on for days until every single ship had plummeted to the bottom of the sea.”

“Yes, I remember that,” Maublanc said. “I recall asking him why he didn’t cast it more often, and he replied that he had no wish to rule an empire of the dead. I assume there must be a heavy cost to that particular power.” 

“There is,” Simon admitted. “I’m still considering the tactical limitations.”

“We could use it in Telluria,” Dassein suggested. “The most problematic beastmen tribes usually retreat back to difficult mountainous terrain to avoid fighting us on even terms. Destroying their lairs and hideouts would help us pacify the region.”

“We can discuss the Tellurian campaign after the coronation,” Lauriane said. Simon noticed she always avoided mentioning the wedding when they talked about the event. “Will you return to the Academy then, Anna?” 

“I’m not sure,” Anna replied as she sipped from her wine. “Father wanted to discuss my marriage prospects.”

“Indeed,” Euphemia said as she cut her leviathan fillet. “We have an excellent match in mind for you, my child.”

Maublanc looked at the empress, but his gaze soon wandered to Simon and Anna. “I will consider it,” he said evasively. “We are in no rush.”

His answer caused Euphemia to frown in displeasure and surprised Simon. He knew from experience that Maublanc usually went along with her plot to marry Thalas to his daughter in previous reigns, so why was he still on the fence? Did Thalas lose value as a prospect in his eyes now that someone else sat on the Crimson Throne?

“Speaking of weddings…” Norbelle smirked. “When can I expect a new sibling, Fatherlord?”

The awkward silence that followed was almost oppressive. 

And of course, Gourmand immediately poured salt on the wound. “If Her Grace and His Majesty have a son, would that be the princess’ brother, or her nephew?”

“The genealogical tree will soon look like a perfect circle!” Grimm added. 

“Good for them,” Gregory concluded. “Tangled roots make for a hearty tree!” 

An enraged Thalas summoned his Berserker axe and threw it at the trio, who dodged while cackling. No doubt this was all part of the show to them. 

“That is not on the agenda, my daughter,” Euphemia said while trying very, very hard to keep her imperial dignity. 

“Yes, Norbelle, one of you was enough,” Lauriane said icily. 

“I agree, sister. Without false modesty, I have no equal.” Norbelle looked at her nails. “Alas, no sibling, no Summoner Crestone.”

“Norbelle!” Euphemia angrily snapped at her spoiled daughter, the empress now at her wits’ end. “Enough of your nonsense!”

“But Mother, first Simon steals you from us, and now he wants to take his beloved sister’s birthright,” Norbelle replied with fake innocence. “I need a sacrifice from him, or he will cross another line next time. Like kissing Thalas.”

Her brother was clearly suppressing the increasingly strong urge to activate Primal Regression and teach his sister a lesson, and Simon wasn’t sure he would stop him. Still, one civil war at the dinner table was one too many, and he had an idea how to deal with Norbelle; the only thing she couldn’t resist. 

Novelty. 

“How about I show you something else in return for borrowing your Crestone, sister?” Simon said as he grabbed a Uyoan potato and ate it. “A secret summoning technique even you haven’t unlocked?”

Now he had caught her undivided attention, and that of his audience. 

“A secret summoning technique?” Norbelle stroked her hair. “Are you suggesting that I, a genius Summoner and Visionary the likes of which the world has never known–”

“And too modest to boast,” Anna quipped.

“–doesn’t know everything there is to learn about the practice yet?” Norbelle smiled at Simon. “I invented that kind of teasing, brother. It’s not going to work on me.”

“And yet it’s true,” Simon replied calmly. He knew his sister had a hypercompetitive streak only matched by her arrogance. She took great pride in her abilities. “I know a way to summon an abyssal eidolon.”

Euphemia scowled. “There’s no such thing in this world.”

“There shouldn’t, no…” Norbelle said, though unlike her mother, she kept an open mind. “Are you sure you didn’t summon a demon or a qlippoth, brother? Those are very different things than eidolons.”

“I’m sure of it, and I can prove it.” Simon returned her smile. “If you let me borrow your Summoner Crestone so I can consume one of its Perks.”

“It’s too early,” Euphemia immediately argued. “We cannot yet recreate the Crestone.”

“Don’t worry, Mother,” Norbelle reassured her. “I’ve learned how to cast Noble Refinement.”

That took Simon by surprise. “You have?” he asked in disbelief. “I thought that was a Tier VIII spell.”

“Yes, it is,” Norbelle replied smugly.

Lauriane squinted at her. “Aren’t you only level 68?”

“That’s old news, sister. Old news.” Norbelle chuckled to herself. “Your spies have been slacking on the job.”

Did binding the Phoenix put her at level seventy? Simon wondered. He would keep that in mind for the future, since it made his younger sister all the more dangerous. And here I thought I had caught up to her…

“Anyway, I’ll bite,” Norbelle decided. “Impress me and I’ll lend you my Crestone, brother.”

“Suit yourself.” Simon finished his plate, put on his Overlord armor, and waved his hand over the table. “When the curtain of darkness falls on a world devoid of light, the black mirror shall show your true self! Reveal thyself, Carbuncle the Devil-Mirror!”

Based on his experience in the Abyss, Simon had expected Carbuncle’s demonic counterpart to appear, since he hadn’t formed a contract with his current version in this reign… and yet when his magic chant reached its conclusion, it was the normal, gem-finding eidolon that materialized in the dining hall. 

“Huh?” Carbuncle looked around in confusion. “Where… where am I?” 

“Aww, it’s so cute,” Norbelle commented while Euphemia watched on in confusion. “Can I mount him on my–” Norbelle frowned all of a sudden, her enhanced Visionary senses no doubt picking up something unusual. “–wall?”

“What’s going on?” Carbuncle stared at Simon, right as miasma began to pour out of his tiny frame like black fire rising from the depths of his soul. “I… I don’t remember forming a contract with you…”

Miasma consumed him whole, and shadows darker than night engulfed the entire hall. 

Another vision of reality briefly overlapped with this one, and Simon found himself sitting at a rotten table whose plates were full of worm-infested meat, bones, and ashes; the drinks were replaced with rancid milk and blood. The three demons juggled skulls and freshly severed heads, laughing and cackling. At his sides were burning corpses and skeletons resting on broken chairs. 

“Simon?” 

A chill traveled down Simon’s spine as he dared look at Anna. She alone wasn’t burning, but it somehow made her more horrifying to look at. Her skin was chalky grey, her dress drenched in ashes, and her eyes two black pits oozing blood. 

“Aren’t I beautiful, my love?” the specter asked, smoke pouring out of her mouth as the sounds of airships thundered in the distance. “I love you.”

Simon blinked, and he returned back to reality. 

“Simon?” Anna—the living Anna—was staring at him with concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“Everything!” Euphemia snapped angrily. “What is this abomination!”

Simon silently turned away from Anna to stare at Carbuncle, only to find himself facing a floating mirror blacker than night. Norbelle had bolted out of her seat to study the creature closely, while the rest of his audience stared at him in confusion.  

“What is thy bidding, my master?” asked Carbuncle, the Devil Mirror. “Your will is my command.”

“I can’t believe it…” Norbelle licked her lips as she walked around the eidolon, her eyes wide with fascination. “You channel abyssal miasma into your summon through the bond you share to power it up.”

Whatever Norbelle was, none could deny her magical genius. It had only taken her a minute to figure out how dark eidolons worked. 

“This is a twisted mockery of a true summoning rite,” Euphemia all but hissed, her fiery glare focusing on Simon. “How did you even form a contract with this creature?” 

“I told you,” Simon replied, trying to anchor himself in the present and forget that awful vision. “I contracted him in a past life.”

“That’s not how…”  Euphemia’s anger turned to unease, as doubt crept into her mind. “That’s not how it should work…”

“Your heart is clouded by pain, Milady,” Carbuncle said upon floating closer to her, his mirror’s surface undulating. “See the truth within you. See the reality you deny.”

Euphemia was close enough to Simon that he could see what the mirror reflected: a portrait of herself in a village, surrounded by dozens of people he did not recognize, but who shared traits similar to the saintess herself. At her side were Thalas and Norbelle… or so Simon thought, until he noticed Thalas’ hair was the same dark honey as Anna's, and his facial features slightly different than Balzam’s family traits. A handsome man held hands with Euphemia, his face younger than the hardened Commander he had grown into…

“Expel,” Norbelle said before Maublanc could glimpse his reflection in the mirror.

Simon felt an invisible wave hitting him in the face. His connection to Carbuncle was abruptly cut, as if he had dismissed the eidolon himself. Carbuncle vanished in a cloud of miasma without leaving a trace, his original self having likely teleported back to the Sanctuary with no idea of what just happened.

Your dark eidolon has been forcefully dismissed. 

What the… Simon blinked as he struggled to focus. Whatever Norbelle did gave him a headache. She… can unsummon other people’s eidolons? 

“You should learn to control your pets better, Simon,” Norbelle chastised him. “A dog that barks without authorization gets the rod.”

Euphemia had grown deathly quiet, her nails sinking into her armrests, her gaze vacant the same way Simon and Eole had been shaken after seeing their ugliest truths laid bare.

“Your Grace?” Maublanc asked in concern, though unlike his reflection, he dared not breach professional boundaries to grab her hand.

“Mother?” Thalas rushed to Euphemia’s side, and clenched his fists when she failed to answer. “What did you do to her, bastard?!”

“I’m… fine, Thalas,” Euphemia replied after quickly regaining her composure. She avoided Simon’s gaze, but they both knew the truth she tried to hide from others and herself. “I’m fine.”

It was a lie, but Simon quickly changed the subject to avoid a messy discussion. “From the look on your face, Norbelle, I guess I won our bet.”

“You have… you have piqued my interest indeed…” she licked her lips in anticipation. “You want to consume my Crestone so you can summon two of these creatures at once, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Simon confirmed. “I want to explore the limits of my power.”

“So do I… it’s never been done before…” And Norbelle couldn’t resist that lure. “Fine, you win. I’ll lend you my Crestone.”

Although Simon had worked hard for this power and long craved it, a dreadful feeling washed over him at the prospect of actually using it. Summoning a single dark eidolon had violated causality in a way that caused some sort of terrible abyssal vision to manifest, like the times he had been struck by the Mana Sword. 

What would summoning two of them at once do?

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