The Hundred Reigns 187: Lux Vult (17) (Patreon)

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Those bastards!

The very first thing Simon did was to animate a mostly intact guard’s corpse as a mindless undead and then put Hector’s Crestone-embedded helmet on it. The Executioner immediately reactivated his Class outfit, and then confirmed what his Overlord suspected. “They took my sister… and Lady Anna.”

“What happened?” Shabram inquired as she observed the carnage. “These were imperial elites trained for such a scenario. They should have teleported Lady Paimon away at the first sign of danger.”

“Lady Anna’s tea party was going well when a faceless demon, a mummy, and a horde of assassins fell upon the estate,” Hector explained. “Half of our people began to panic and fight each other all of a sudden… it was like they couldn’t tell friend from foe anymore.” 

“Verney,” Simon guessed, his grip on Balefire tightening. The Zodiac Fiend of wrongness, madness, and betrayal no doubt had ways of inducing extreme paranoia in others. 

Even Duchar, who had always been one of Simon’s strongest retainers and had only ever been slain by Louis, proved to be no match for their enemies. This saddened Simon, who had grown to like and respect the man. His retainers needed his support if they were to survive the coming disasters.

All in all, this was very bad. The plan had been for Shabram, Belzemine, and other reinforcements to move to Anna’s location once Operation Closed Door began, but Simon didn’t expect the elves’ interference. Valravn and the Oracle would both pay for this treachery. 

Hector glanced at his father’s corpse, his undead eyes full of hatred and concern. “My sister…”

“Cassandra and Anna are still alive,” Simon reassured him. He could still feel a connection to the former through her Devil Brands, though she didn’t answer his telepathic queries, and the latter’s Party System entry showed her as being inside the Attic. They had to be unconscious and held somewhere, to later be used as host for their respective Zodiac Fiend. There might still be a way to track these two down…

Simon immediately conjured an imp. “Hey!” the critter said, looking around. “Is this for corpse disposal, or dinner? Both?”

“Go to Hell,” Simon ordered as he pressed his hand on the imp’s skull. His crown wouldn’t release its prisoner without another taking its place. 

“But I just got here—” The imp didn’t have time to finish his sentence as a hellish maw opened right beneath him and swallowed him all, to the curiosity of Louis and everybody else’s horror. 

The monstrous gullet then spat out Velvet in separate pieces. 

Simon blinked in surprise when he saw her. Her final expression was one of pure terror, and her skin showed hints of laceration, acid exposure, and bloody bites in her intimate parts. Her head had also been torn away from her shoulders. 

Did… did the demiplane kill her? Torture her to death? Simon wondered before he realized what had happened after confirming her fatal wound matched Silk’s. According to Valravn, the sisters used to be one person before the Twins split them in two somehow. They must have retained a metaphysical link of some kind. Killing one slew the other. 

“Wasn’t this the Prince of Spiders’ retainer?” Louis mused. “She looks unusable.”

“I thought I could interrogate her,” Simon admitted with rising annoyance as he stored Balefire and replaced it with the Rogue Crestone. “But I still have one card left to play.”

He immediately activated it, switching his Overlord outfit for the Rogue one. While it neither rejected him nor embraced his presence like the Paladin and Adventurer respectively, Simon could sense its distaste in the way his new clothes itched on his skin. 

The Rogue: The prince of thieves, the faceless spy, the outlaw who obeys no law but their own conscience, and who reminds the arrogant and the powerful to watch their backs.

Strength B, Vitality D, Agility S, Perception A, Magic D, Intelligence B, Charisma C, Luck S. 

Skeleton Key (Passive): All magical wards, barriers, and defenses treat you as if you had proper authorization to cross them, regardless of conditions. You count as invited into any dwelling and do not trigger alarms unless you wish to.

Urban Legend (Passive): You are a myth that leaves no trace. You have no scent, leave no footprints or physical evidence behind, and make no noise when moving. You gain resistance to Divinations and gain a bonus to camouflage when sticking to shadows or when using a disguise. 

Lockpick (Passive): You have an intuitive understanding of locks, security systems, and traps, allowing you to either craft or disable them. 

Sneak Attack (Active): When you strike a foe with a slashing weapon in which you have proficiency in, your chance of inflicting a critical hit increases with each AGI point you have over them; if you land a Critical Hit, you can choose to inflict Instadeath on the target.

Level 1 Rogue Perk: Steal I (Active): You can attempt to steal an object from a target within sight. This ability has a chance of failure. Your odds of success depend on various factors like the difference in Luck and Level with your target, how close you are to them, and if they are affected by Ailments. You need to know which item you’re trying to steal. 

Skeleton Key… Simon’s annoyance grew as he read its description. This Perk was likely the reason Silk managed to slip past teleportation wards, and would have been extremely useful if not for a single issue: he had no Devour Crestone slots left. But this should at least work.

“Which door did they use to run away?” Simon immediately asked Hector, who pointed at the one in the privy. He slammed it open to find a chamber pot on the other side. Valravn must have destroyed that passage after escaping, which left only a few possibilities… “Which door did you use to get into Frightwall, Louis?”

“The dungeon’s private chapel,” Louis said. “I suspect I have been left stranded after going my own way, however.”

“There may still be a chance to catch up to them, if Valravn has yet to learn of your treachery,” Simon said as he teleported the group back to Frightwall into a small chamber adorned with a single statue of Saintess Pharis. Priests often used this room to give some prisoners their last rites before their demise. 

Simon gathered his breath, closed his eyes, and focused on Skeleton Key. Touching the doorknob sent a chill through his hand as he detected a hidden passageway beyond sight; a gate hidden within the gate, like a double-floored chest. He seized that phantom lock and forced it open to find himself staring at a corridor of doors.

“Only Prince Louis should be here,” said the smiling fetch on the other side. “I must ask the rest of you–”

While Simon knew how to destroy the Attic, the issue lay in capturing a fetch capable of opening the doors and compelling it to do so; a process complicated by the fact that Valravn had become a lot more paranoid about them once Simon inherited his throne and put bounties on most of the Weavers. Their lack of soul and life also made them impossible to brand. 

Refusing to let the opportunity go, he quickly grabbed Hector’s helmet with Devil’s Arm, removed it from his current host, and then slammed it on the fetch’s head before it could finish its sentence. 

“Open all the doors and find Verney,” Simon ordered his allies as they stepped inside. “Hector, extract a map of these passages from the fetch’s mind.”

“It’s resisting…” Hector warned him through the fetch’s lips. “It will take me time to… sort things out.”

“Be quick–” A tremor shook the corridor, and Simon sensed a shift in the Attic’s metaphysical weight following in its wake. “What the–”

“Your Majesty, the doors…” Odette frowned as she opened one after another, only to reveal cracking walls of bricks behind each and every one of them. “They lead nowhere!”

“This place…” her eidolon bodyguard, Xenophon, tensed up. “We gotta leave, now!”

He was right, as much as Simon hated it. Cracks were appearing everywhere, from the walls to the ceiling and floor. Miasma oozed from them as space began to shrink and contort. Valravn would rather destroy his own Attic rather than let Simon pursue him. 

Simon grit his teeth in impotent fury. “Evacuate!”

They ran towards the door as the corridor collapsed behind them, leaving them stranded in his castle and their friends far out of his reach. 

—--

The invading elves were lucky to be all dead, for an Overlord’s wrath was a fearsome storm indeed. 

According to eyewitnesses, the elves attempted to free House Malphas’ members during the chaos, who clearly hadn’t been informed of the operation—likely to prevent Simon from accidentally learning of the plot. They would have likely escaped successfully without Simon’s reshaping of the castle and activation of his Dreadful Aura, which had decimated their numbers and allowed High Confessor Mastemo to intercept them. 

While Justine Eligos wisely surrendered rather than fight the Cleric, her sister Anselma had quickly taken the side of her elven brethren and perished during the fighting. Elaine herself accidentally died from his Dreadful Aura alongside Patriate, though their souls had at least been bound to gems unlike the elven invaders.

“I suspect they used a variation of Contingency, a Tier VII Divination that triggers another spell when certain circumstances are met,” Mastemo suggested during the debriefing. “Illusea’s seers are fond of it.”

Whatever the spell used, it had prevented Simon from extracting any information from his victims, and none of the captives were taken alive except for Justine Eligos. Simon at least took satisfaction in the knowledge that they had utterly failed to meet any of their objectives. 

Perhaps I should ingest Elaine’s or Patriate’s soul gem and infiltrate Illusea, then stab the Oracle in her treacherous heart one reign, Simon mulled on his Crimson Throne. Would that treacherous snake see it coming? 

Hector’s possession of the fetch at least allowed Simon to map out all the Attic backdoors inside Frightwall. This at least explained how Silk and the Cobweb learned of the Overlord’s demise so quickly; they could literally eavesdrop on Louis, the local priests, and guests. He would be sure to either condemn those passages in future reigns or use them to teach Verney a lesson. 

Meanwhile, Anna’s location had changed to Lore, and the Party System proved accurate enough to track her movements in real time, showing the roads and streets she was moving through. Simon assumed Verney was carrying her somewhere on foot now that the Attic was down.

His frustration was all the more bitter because Anna had apparently tried to activate her necklace and summon Simon to her side during the chaos according to Hector’s testimony, only for the device to fail. Lotan’s Crushing Loneliness must have prevented the call from going through. 

She had called out for help, and he had failed to answer. 

The High Confessor’s insight on the matter at least proved enlightening. “They appear to be taking the road to the Holy City of Serras.”

“The site where the Light Megalith is worshiped,” Simon said as he recalled the lessons he learned in the Lighthouse. “Is a Zodiac Fiend’s crystal sealed under it, the same way the Water-Carrier was trapped beneath the Water Megalith?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Mastemo admitted, shifting in place. “You believe that is what the demon is after?”

“My father believed a demonbarrow was located in Lore, and my visions confirmed he was right.” Alcyone had said as much in the Sanctuary. “Considering Anna’s birth sign, the Light Megalith must assuredly suppress the Maiden.”

“That would make sense, considering she was said to be the most powerful of their vile lot…” The High Confessor sounded troubled. “However, I know of no hidden Dungeon or tomb beneath the Light Megalith. Most puzzling.”

“The demonbarrow must have been hidden by the elves long before the prophet Pharis received her visions, to ensure the Maiden’s allies couldn’t free her,” Simon guessed. Whatever divine power Verney noticed in Anna was probably required to unlock the seal. “We must urgently send magical messages to the Lorean Orthodoxy and warn them of the threat. We must recover Anna and prevent Verney from completing his mad quest.”

“I will send out messages immediately,” Shabram promised.

“It will be a futile gesture, brother,” Louis said. “They will not listen. We’d be better off preparing ourselves for battle.”

“Who asked for your counsel, kinslayer?” Mastemo asked with disdain. The sight of the crown-prince walking about freely unnerved him to his core. “How did you even violate Her Grace’s House Arrest?”

“I fear Verney’s magic proved stronger than your saintess’ Laws, Your Excellency,” Louis replied mockingly. This didn’t surprise Simon all that much, since Valravn attempted to undo his brands in a previous reign and would have succeeded without his Deceitful Title. He could probably cancel out all contracts. “Besides, I only left my quarters to obtain information on our enemies. Surely that ought to count as community service and good behavior.”

“I will not return the Warrior Crestone to you,” Simon warned him. While Louis had helped them, he knew better than to trust the madman with his Noble Class. 

Louis took it in stride with casual confidence. “I will wait for you to change your mind, then.”

And I very well might, Simon admitted to himself, his mind consumed with bitterness. A question burned on his lips, which he hoped to see answered. 

Guards brought in Justine Eligos, the only survivor among the elves, before the Crimson Throne. The diabolist held her head high in spite of her terrible situation and tried to keep her dignity. 

“Your Majesty,” she said with a polite bow. “I assure you neither my niece nor I had any idea of what would happen.”

“I hold your niece’s soul in the palm of my hand, and I pray for the both of you that you are telling me the truth,” Simon replied, the shadow of sorrow passing over Justine’s face. “Why?”

“Why the attack?” Justine asked with a frown. “I would not be so bold as to guess what our infallible Oracle thinks–” The words oozed with disdain, “–but I assume she saw your peace overtures as a trick to delay hostilities so you could level-up and consolidate power.”

“It would make sense to strike now, during the transition of power,” Shabram conceded. 

“That wasn’t what I asked,” Simon said, his hands gripping his throne’s armrests. “I can understand mistaking my diplomatic overtures for weakness or a trick, however foolish an assumption that might have been, but allying with the Cobweb? With slavers and demon worshippers?” He seethed with fury and bitterness. “Why? Why does she hate me so much that she would rather risk freeing the Zodiac Fiends than give the new Overlord a chance? Is it because of Agnes?”

“I do not understand why Illusea wants Lady Firewand back so fervently, besides her status as a living martyr for the elven people, but the reason behind their hostility to House Magnos is clear enough.” Justine gathered her breath. “The Oracle believes, with every fiber of her being, that you will destroy the world.”

Simon’s head perked up in shock. “What?”

“You know, a flood of darkness that consumes the world, Hell on Brimir, everyone screaming, a graveyard of screaming corpses, the Overlord laughing from his Crimson Throne and all that nonsense…” Lady Eligos rolled her eyes. “That’s the same apocalyptic prophecy she had been peddling since Mardok first appeared: that the Overlord will destroy Brimir and kill everyone, because somehow that makes more sense than simply ruling the world. Gargauth and your father both had their fill of doomsday sermons too.”

Simon remained quiet as he processed this information. He would be lying if he said Justine’s words didn’t ring a few bells.

Could it be that the Oracle saw whatever visions Simon experienced when he violated causality or perished from the Mana Sword? Had she seen the miasma, the burning corpses, that surreal hellscape? 

Maybe she can see the end of the reigns rippling through time, and misunderstood them for the Overlord destroying the world… which I might be technically doing when I turn back time, Simon thought. For all he knew, a discarded timeline simply ceased to exist through abyssal magic as if it had never existed. And the weaker I am, the closer the end must seem to her since I am more likely to die early. 

Justine frowned when he failed to speak up. “Is Your Majesty planning to destroy the world?”

“Of course not!” Simon protested with a grunt. “But the Oracle believes that I will bring an end to Brimir?”

“Yes, she does, without the shadow of a doubt,” Justine confirmed. “In her mind, there is no price too small to neutralize you and your Class.”

“Even allying with archdemons?” Simon inquired in disbelief. 

“Why not?” Justine shrugged. “Most demons want the world to be around so they can feast on mortals’ sins and fear. A living hell is still living.” 

Louis smiled at her. “Yet you do not believe her.”

“We are on our fourth Overlord, and the world has yet to end,” Lady Justine pointed out. “Either her visions are faulty, or she is lying to ensure we elves keep waging a hopeless war we cannot possibly win. Many in the White Unicorn share my doubts on the matter.”

“But not the elves in Illusea, whose faith in their Oracle is absolute,” Louis concluded, his gaze settling on Simon. “Do you understand your mistake now, brother?”

Simon grit his teeth. “I am asking a civilization built on fearing the future to be brave and take a risk.”

“Exactly,” Louis confirmed. “Illusea is such a coddled society that they need seers to spare them from any hardship so they can maintain their indolence. They dread anything with the slightest chance of failure; and what could be riskier than giving you a chance? They are unfit to live in our world.” The crown-prince shrugged his shoulders. “Your peace can only be purchased with blood.”

Is that so? Simon steepled his fingers and meditated on this information. There had to be a way to convince the Oracle she was mistaken and that he was no bringer of calamity, but he kept drawing blanks. Mardok famously betrayed all diplomatic entreaties, Gargauth had been planning a global genocide, and while Balzam Magnos probably didn’t plan to destroy the world, he was set on wiping Illusea off the map. The elves would assume he was cut from the same cloth so long as the Oracle kept receiving her visions. 

Would freeing Belzemine even suffice to earn their trust? Or would the Oracle and the Mana Goddess simply see it as a trick or weakness? Louis might be right, diplomacy invited attack. 

What should he do now? Illusea had launched a terrorist attack inside his own castle, slew many of his servants, and indirectly assisted a crime ring in kidnapping the Lady of the Berwick Islands. No one would respect his authority if he simply let it slide. There had to be consequences, or the empire’s elites would turn against him. Maublanc himself would demand that they march on Lore as soon as he learned of Anna’s abduction.

He offered the elves their first chance of peace in four centuries, and those fools had chosen war instead. 

Simon sensed an attempt at telepathic contact through his Devil Brands; one of his servants in Euphemia’s retinue was trying to make contact. 

“Your Majesty, I bring good news,” he said. “The dragon queen is dead.”

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