The Hundred Reigns 221: The Land of the Warlords (1) (Patreon)

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The truth shook Lauriane to the core.

“You slew our father with an elven weapon?!” Her hands clenched into fists as she looked over Balzam’s body. “Why?!”

“Because he was a fool who would have led us to defeat,” Louis replied calmly, before adding almost as an afterthought, “And he slew our mother too.”

“Mine as well,” Simon added. “That much is true.”

After his meeting with Louis, Simon had teleported him, Lauriane, Shabram, and Balzam’s corpse to a walled-off room of his own creation in order to discuss the succession. They had two hours to prepare before the rest of the castle woke up, so that should be plenty of time to arrange a peaceful transition of power. 

“But… how…” Lauriane’s eyes darted from their father’s corpse to Simon. “If Louis did the deed, then… Why do you have the Overlord Class, Simon?”

“Because we were wrong.” Simon’s eyes burned with hellfire for emphasis. “The Overlord Class doesn’t go to whoever killed the last holder, but to the one most fitting to rule.”

“So it is no different from other Noble Classes,” Louis guessed.

“It is, in that every Overlord inherits some of their predecessors’ power. I have obtained some of our father’s memories, alongside those of Gargauth and Mardok.” Simon glared at Balzam’s remains. “He did murder Eleanor, Lauriane, and walled up her corpse in Castle Carcass’ walls. You can confirm for yourself after we settle our affairs.”

While Lauriane remained silent as she pondered this information, Louis frowned at Simon. “I must ask, though: why you over me, brother?”

“If you even have to ask, then that’s all the answer you need.” Simon had come to realize that the best way to keep Louis on edge and prudent was to leave him wondering. “Besides, do you truly care who holds the Crimson Throne so long as your dreams are realized?”

“No, the Warrior fits me well.” Something which his Crestone would agree with. 

“So you saw our father’s demise, but let it happen?” Lauriane inquired. Her eyes assessed Simon with wariness and incomprehension. “How long…”

“I’ve never lied to you, Lauriane.” Simon didn’t want her to nurse a grudge against him or reach the wrong conclusions. “I simply kept my head down and my mouth shut to avoid trouble until the time was right for me to fulfill my destiny. I foresaw this day would come, and what I have to do to preserve our empire.”

“Is that connected to your choice of meeting place?” Louis glanced at the walls around them. “A doorless and windowless room is a suspicious choice of location.”

“Yes, some of Frightwall’s doors are compromised and can serve as magical portals,” Simon replied, much to everyone’s surprise. “This is but one of the many threats we will have to purge if we are to survive the transition.”

Simon provided a brief description of the enemies who plotted against House Magnos at the moment, from the Cobweb and their true demonic allegiances, to the Zodiac Parade and Vouivre, and finally the Oracle’s plan to bombard Frightwall a month from now. He kept quiet about the elves’ plan to flee to the moons and the Light Megalith’s true nature for now since they already had many shorter-term threats to deal with, but he would broach the subject in time after securing the throne. 

Thankfully, Lauriane and Louis already believed he had latent foresight abilities even before the reigns started, and the highly detailed intel he provided was sufficient to convince them easily enough. 

“Patriate is an elven infiltrator?” That was the part that shocked Lauriane the most. “How could he avoid detection?”

“With his Changeling Class,” Simon replied. “I’ll move to capture him as soon as we conclude our meeting. You can check it then.”

“I knew of his treacherous nature, but not his true allegiances,” Louis noted, his expression blank. The crown-prince was a master of hiding his emotions, but he seemed on edge. “Is anyone else on the High Council compromised?”

“No, but Patriate’s family are all elves and they have other agents across the continent, as do the Cobweb.” Simon glanced at Shabram. “We will need to arrest them all swiftly and destroy the Attic, to ensure they cannot use it against us.”

“If Frightwall’s doorways are compromised, then this Cobweb will likely spread word of His Majesty’s death to the highest-bidder within hours,” Shabram pointed out. “Would it be possible to use the Attic against our enemies?”

“Not for long. Verney—or rather, Valravn—will quickly notice unexpected intrusions, and he would rather collapse the Attic than let us track him down.” Simon only truly managed to take him off guard by attacking his base of operation in Lore after staying beneath his notice for days. “I cannot say how he will react to our alliance’s ascendency either.”

Moreover, Simon’s plan to stabilize the empire would likely require him to bring Anna to the capital, and allowing the Cobweb to access her in any way would spell disaster. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. 

“I doubt the poor count is well-disposed towards me after I failed to bury him properly,” Louis mused. “We can correct that mistake another time. Leaving those doors open is too much of a vulnerability.”

“Publicly revealing Count Verney’s true identity would also cause a rift in the White Unicorn, Your Majesty, and unveiling the elven infiltration plot would let us justify a purge,” Shabram added. “We could remove more political enemies than just those associated with the conspiracy by putting them under investigation.”

“Same as with the dragons,” Lauriane stated. “We should strike at those who helped Gargauth’s brood infiltrate our ranks. We need to collect those Zodiac Crystals for study at the earliest opportunity, too.”

Simon nodded sharply. He had been wary of entrusting the crystals to his family in the past reigns, but at this point, they were better off weaponizing them against their enemies until they could safely dispose of them during the Parade. Ensuring Asterion wouldn’t be in position to cause damage was paramount. 

No more holding back. 

“An issue remains, however,” Shabram said, her gaze set on Louis. “His Highness slew His Majesty, and many are unlikely to take it kindly.” 

“Please, as if any of us wouldn’t have done the same had the opportunity presented itself.” Louis shrugged his shoulders. “I doubt anyone would mourn our father if I confessed to the crime. I have nothing to hide nor apologize for.”

Lauriane frowned. “Euphemia will not stand to work with a kinslayer, Louis, and neither will Thalas.”

“They will have no choice but to go along should the Overlord stand with us.”

“There is an easier solution,” Shabram suggested. “His Majesty was slain with an elven weapon with the assistance of Illusean infiltrators. No one outside this room knows His Highness did it, nor has the means to prove it.” 

“Indeed,” Simon confirmed. No one had done so in timelines where the civil war happened, and even Patriate had no idea who picked up the sword he left in Frightwall’s chapel. The Oracle’s obsession with information security could be turned against her, because none of her agents understood the full picture of her plot. “We can easily frame a Cobweb assassin for the deed and justify escalation against them and Illusea alike. The presence of Attic doors would lend credence to the lie.”

“Even so, Euphemia will cause us trouble,” Lauriane argued. “She distrusts us too much not to oppose us politically.”

“I will deal with Euphemia,” Simon replied. He had literally been in bed with her for months, and he knew what she sought. “I have a settlement she can get behind in mind. As for Maublanc, there is a very easy way to pull him into our camp.”

“You speak of marrying Anna?” Lauriane stroked her chin. “Yes, that would work. The prospect of having his grandchild on the Crimson Throne will solidly bring Maublanc into the fold and secure your own succession. Mastemo will submit so long as we do not repeal our father’s religious laws.”

This didn’t sit well with Louis. “Some must be. Pointless tribal discriminations against shifters and goblinoids cripple our military strength.”

“His Excellency will give us leeway so long as we do not remove the Church of the Light’s state religion status,” Shabram argued. “We have means of pressuring him.”

“Then it is settled,” Simon declared, his finger pointing at Balzam. “We lay the blame for this at the Oracle’s feet.” 

Lauriane looked a bit displeased by this, likely due to her conflicted feelings on the matter, but she went along with a nod to preserve Louis’ position. The crown-prince stared at Simon with that sharp gaze of his. 

“You expect a conflict with the Oracle before the year is done,” Louis stated. It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes, I do.” Simon wasn’t yet certain if it would stay a cold war or evolve into a hot one depending on the circumstances, but he had abandoned the idea of making peace with the Oracle anytime soon. He would not allow her to sabotage his plans again. “Can I count on you in this struggle?”

“That depends on your choices, Simon. I slew our father because I disagreed with his strategy on the matter. I would prefer if you reconsidered following in his footsteps.”

Louis’ tone never wavered, but there was a dire warning to his words. “You slew our father because he wished to attack Illusea,” Simon recalled. “Why?”

“It was simply too risky,” Louis replied calmly. “Illusea has spent four hundred years fortifying for an inevitable Overlord attack. The elves have a natural advantage when near manatrees, which all of Illusea is covered by, and they will have access to near-limitless reserves of manaliths accumulated since the Worldtree first bloomed. We can expect a long and gruesome siege at best, and allied nations like Lore would rise to exploit our weakness.”

“Leaving the western continent unsecure would allow our foes to cross the Dragonsea while our army is bogged down in Illusea,” Lauriane agreed. “We should at least conquer Valne before we can consider cutting off the elven snake’s head.”

“Our father was convinced he could succeed,” Simon pointed out. He was certain Balzam Magnos had a plan to conquer Illusea, though he suspected the only hints were held in his Abyssal Chronicle. “The very reason why the Oracle took the risk of using the Mana Sword was because she had foreseen Illusea’s fall.”

“It might have been possible to conquer the elven homeland had our father led us, considering his immense strength and tactical acumen,” Louis conceded. “However, it would be too risky to try our luck while you have yet to reach his heights. We need to sharpen our claws and strengthen our armies on easier targets.”

“We have other options than pointless war crimes, Louis. I have learned secrets that could drive a wedge between the White Unicorn and Illusea, and I know that the latter would inevitably betray any of our attempts at negotiating a peace settlement. If we let them do so in order to justify a war—”

“It would be a waste of time, brother.” Louis smiled thinly. “The likes of Lore and Muse may complain about the elves and their lies, but they will swiftly forget their enmities once they see our ships sail towards Illusea to conquer more lands. They know this tale can only end in their future conquest or our present annihilation.”

He’s not wrong. While Simon could sow distrust between Illusea and the White Unicorn, there was no way the latter’s nations would stay neutral or support Endymion as it gobbled up yet another piece of Brimir. But still, I know we can drive a wedge between them… 

“What’s your plan, then?” Simon inquired. “Cross the Dragonsea as soon as we’re finished with Telluria?”

“That would be the most sensible option,” Louis replied. “We have the forces to seize Valne in short order and secure the straits before Lore can mobilize.”

“But it will, as will Muse and Illusea.” Simon had seen it for himself in a previous reign.

“In which case, we’ll fight on the western continent rather than ours. Other nations on foreign soil will bear the brunt of the damage.”

Are you so determined to rule the world, Louis? The prince’s wishes and desires had always been impenetrable, but not anymore. Heart’s Desire.

Simon’s will expanded from his body and insidiously delved deep into Louis’ mind while he least expected it. The crown-prince’s spirit was strong like steel, with spear walls to protect itself, but Heart’s Desire was no ram striking at the gates for an all-out assault; it was a snake crawling through the holes to take a harmless sneak peek. 

A vision formed in Simon’s mind. He found himself staring at a vast field of blooming flowers, a garden of a world that stretched as far as the eye could see under a clean, pure sky. Marthrone loomed in the distance, a prosperous town on a hill, smaller and yet shinier and more radiant than the dirty metropolis it used to be. It all looked so pristine and beautiful, but when Simon’s otherworldly gaze wandered, he spotted skulls hidden beneath the blooming flowers. 

The vision ended there as Louis’ heart closed itself and Simon pulled back rather than risk being identified. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. Did Louis hope to create a better world after decimating his way through the current one?

“These are all hypotheticals,” Lauriane intervened to put an end to the argument. “Let us ensure we avoid coming to blows with Euphemia now, then draw up plans for the future once the dust settles.”

“Agreed.” Louis smiled at Simon. “Shall we go, brother?”

“Yes.” Simon extended his hand to his sibling. “After you give me the Mana Sword.”

“You do not trust me to keep it?” Louis chuckled at his brazenness, though there was a dash of steel in his gaze. “And if I say no?”

“Then we fight, and you will find your hopes waylaid at every turn.” Simon knew Louis would be an extremely dangerous foe, but Frightwall was his seat of power. He was fully willing to teleport over to Euphemia and ally with her to put him in the ground if he didn’t behave. “There is no victory without me, Louis. There is only victory through me.”

The air grew heavier for a second as Louis pondered what to do. Shabram pointedly moved closer to Simon to show she would support him no matter what, while Lauriane’s gaze darted from one sibling to the other. 

“Very well,” Louis eventually decided. He pulled out the Mana Sword from his Infinite Armory. “Accept this as a token of good faith.”

It’s the real one. Simon could tell from the radiance his Dark Visionary senses noticed coming from the blade. He nodded in satisfaction as he placed it in his Inventory. He thinks he won’t need it to win should we come to blows.

Louis might be correct in that assessment, but at least Simon wouldn’t lose an extra reign should their alliance fall through; and he would adapt accordingly. 

“Simon…” Lauriane cleared her throat. “Are you all there?”

“I am fully in control, yes,” Simon reassured her. “I may have changed a little from what I’ve learned, but it is still me.”

Louis raised an eyebrow, his lips stretching with amusement. “Have you changed, brother, or simply been revealed for who you truly are?”

“I have become who I chose to be.” And what others forced him to become. “Let us proceed.”

—------

What followed was akin to both a reflection and a rehearsal. 

Simon teleported into Patriate’s room to enslave him and petrified his daughter, then greeted the High Council of Endymion and its generals while atop his father’s throne. A few obviously took issue with this arrangement. 

“What are you doing on Father’s throne, bastard?” Thalas asked the moment he walked into the room, his axe materializing in his hand. 

“Assuming my birthright, Thalas.” Simon put on his Overlord armor for good measure, the sight of his true self—and the aura of malice radiating from him—leaving his brother and most of the crowd speechless. “My Crimson Throne.”

While her son was too shocked to react, Euphemia quickly caught on to the situation and put on her Judge outfit. “Is this a coup?”

“No, this is my succession,” Simon replied, nodding at guards at the edge of the room. “I haven’t slain our father: they did.”

Belzemine and soldiers walked into the room. Balzam’s corpse lay on a folding table with the Mana Sword embedded in his chest, with a chained Malphas being forced back into his true form in front of the court. Quite the theatrical setup. 

“Lord Malphas?” Mastemo inquired upon recognizing the man. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Indeed,” Simon said, “Go on, confess your crimes.”

“Crimes?” Patriate grit his teeth as the Brand of Pride burned his skin. “I have committed no crime, because you are not legitimate, and neither was your cursed father! Contributing to his demise was a righteous act of which I am truly proud!”

“As you can see, our dear treasurer hid many secrets from us,” Louis said. “He has already confessed to smuggling this weapon inside our walls.”

“The elves hoped this enchanted sword would disrupt the inheritance cycle, but the Class chose to remain in our family,” Lauriane added. “Simon came to us as soon as he received it.”

“Why would he get the Overlord Class?!” Thalas snapped at Simon, his axe pointed at him.

“Because I deserve it, Thalas.” Simon waved his hand. “Observe the power I command.”

He materialized his dracozombie in the middle of the room, miasma swirling in the form of a great rotting wyrm whose stench filled the entire chamber. Euphemia’s party tightened ranks at the sight of the creature. 

“But if you are not so certain, then behold the Abyss’ strength!” Simon pointed at his own creature. “Darkflare!” 

His mighty spell erupted at his fingertip, devouring his own dragon in a swirling blast of darkness that shook the entire throne room. Louis smiled gleefully, while Euphemia protectively moved in front of a shocked Thalas. 

The court now realized he was no level 1 Overlord, and they had spent enough time around Balzam to see him pull new tricks out of nowhere. They didn’t fully understand what his Class was capable of, and men feared the unknown and the uncertain above everything else. 

If he was capable and willing to destroy his own slave dragon as a demonstration, what else could he do?

“Is that fear I see in your eyes, Malphas?” Simon taunted the elf. “You have changed nothing.”

The brand forced him to confess his weakness, though he remained defiant. “I am afraid, yes… but I know your rotten empire will fall one day.” 

“If so, it will not be by elven hands,” Simon boasted as he stood up and stared at Euphemia. “You have nothing to fear, Euphemia. I will not pursue a childish grudge when our true enemies threaten us.”

Euphemia scoffed. “I do not believe you.”

“And yet, it is the truth. Our enemies all expect us to tear each other apart, and I would rather disappoint them.” The only thing that could tear down this family was its own disputes. “House Magnos must unite if it is to survive.” 

“So you can dispose of us as soon as you no longer need us,” Euphemia accused, her hand clutching her Judge hammer. “You want complete control.”

Mastemo cleared his throat and tried to deescalate things. “Your Grace, mayhaps we should listen…” 

“There is nothing to listen to!” Thalas snapped back as he took a step forward, only to find Louis blocking his path. “You’re siding with him, traitor?”

“Do not make things any more difficult than they have to be, Thalas,” Louis warned his sibling. Such was his confidence that he didn’t even bother to draw his sword or put on his Warrior outfit. “This is a new dawn for Endymion.”

“The crimson kind,” Euphemia said with disdain, but she only had to take a look around the room to tell this would be a battle she couldn’t win. The generals were bound to obey Simon, as was Belzemine. The empress warily met Simon’s gaze. “What terms do you offer?”

“You will be confirmed in your status of empress-dowager and granted control over a duchy encompassing Agares, to do as you see fit with,” Simon replied. “Thalas and Norbelle will retain their titles. You will also wed Uncle Maublanc, and I his daughter.”

Euphemia’s eyes widened slightly. “Marry Maublanc?”

As Simon suspected, her unrequited feelings for the Commander proved a vulnerability to exploit. He felt a bit guilty about exploiting her insecurities after they grew to somewhat respect each other in a previous reign, but it was for her own good and that of the empire. She would feel much happier in this marriage than the previous one. 

“It is not good to have an empress stay widowed for long.” And Simon hoped it would be the first step towards reconciliation. “We will all become one house, united by blood under the auspices of the Light.”

Mastemo didn’t miss the obvious bribe. “I take it Your Highness will follow his predecessor’s wisdom and retain the Church of the Light as its state religion?” 

For now, at least. Simon knew for certain that Helel couldn’t escape without Anna, so he had no incentive to oppose the Church in the short term.

Lauriane glared at the High Confessor. “Your Excellency forgets himself. It is ‘Your Majesty,’ not ‘Your Highness.’”

“I will preserve our religious institutions, Lord Mastemo.” So long as he refused to call Simon by his title, then he would return the courtesy. “If you are wise enough to bend the knee, that is.” 

Mastemo pondered his answer and glanced at Euphemia. Simon didn’t need Heart’s Desire to realize he had already won. Her thoughts—and desire to salvage her branch of the family from a potentially disastrous situation—took precedence over everything else. She was no fool willing to risk a dangerous battle when offered such a sweet olive branch. 

“I will investigate the matter of your father’s death personally,” Euphemia said as she assessed Patriate. “I want to interrogate him, as is my purview.”

“Of course,” Simon replied, knowing how to guide her gaze where he wanted. “We have already taken measures to arrest and detain all suspected conspirators, but I will trust them in your capable care.”

His purge had only just begun.

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A/N: as usual, here's the link to Simon's updated stats: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_C2-2rQ9tlIe8Jef8mlQpcd_bAVK6FLBbdeB6DLhX9E/edit?usp=sharing