The Hundred Reigns 223: The Land of the Warlords (3) (Patreon)

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While Simon had grown strong, his Party’s current members showed he still had a long way to go.

Maublanc’s stat screen confirmed he was a level eighty Commander with a secondary level of fifty-two in the Warmaster Vassal Class, which probably made him the third strongest person in Endymion behind Louis and Euphemia. He had the perfect combination of Perks to command others from afar and to fight in melee. 

As for Lauriane…

Lauriane Magnos

Level 71 Spellblade/Level 64 Alchemist

Darkblood

Humanoid

Elemental Affinities:

Very Strong: Corrosion, Life, Ailments.

Strong: Physical, Mind, Metal, Support, Water, Lightning.

Neutral: Fire, Earth, Wind, Frost, Darkness, Mythic.

Weak: Soul, Light.

Very weak: Wood.

It still amused Simon that his sister had more levels in Spellblade than Alchemist. She should spend less time on the battlefield and more in a lab. 

However, the more Simon looked at House Magnos’ stats and those of Maublanc, the more convinced he became that his father had spent multiple reigns optimizing their progression. They each possessed equipment or secondary Classes that compensated for their Noble one’s weaknesses and made them deadlier than their raw levels suggested. Balzam Magnos had clearly been attempting to create a new generation of Noble Heroes loyal to him alone.

It fell on Simon to pick up where he left. 

Otherwise, Simon met with Eole and released her from her bindings—though he had to fight off a rush of emotions when he saw her in her captive dress again—and offered her the same deal he did during his last open Overlord reign: he would allow her to plead her case to Euphemia, Mastemo, and even Louis so long as she advised them on the campaign against Vouivre. 

That meeting actually went slightly better than the last one, since Simon avoided stroking her hair when he met her and informed her his newest decree would abolish Shifter slavery across the empire. He wouldn’t say she was exactly enthusiastic, but his offer to help mend the bonds between their Tribes must have appeared more genuine. 

Simon had plans for the Sanctuary, but it was still a bit too early to act on them. He would let Eole win over his empire’s top echelons with her natural charm until Vouivre was firmly in the ground. 

He also freed Lorimor and took him into his service, mostly to experiment with Memory Snatcher on him. Simon was considering using the spell for therapeutic purposes on Belzemine by eradicating some of the many, many atrocities the previous Overlords put her through in order to improve her recovery. He hoped to take just enough away to ease her pain and help her regain her confidence without causing permanent damage. 

Of course, he would never use the spell to brainwash someone the way Helel controlled others, and he couldn’t take everything away without destroying Belzemine as a person, but surely she wouldn’t object to forgetting the times Balzam raped her or Mardok forced her to shower in the blood of elven gladiators. He wouldn’t proceed with anything without her full consent anyway. 

Lorimor would make the perfect test subject. He had been brainwashed into slavish devotion by a demon to the point not even Belzemine could cure his mind. Destroying a few key memories the way a surgeon cut out infected flesh was a promising venue of mental health. 

Although Simon disliked Lorimor and the mad cultist caused him a few issues in the past, he had served well in multiple other reigns. Freeing him from the Muse’s influence and helping him rebuild his life was the least Simon could do. 

Who knew? He and Odette might even patch things up once he had recovered his sanity. 

Let’s hope this new meeting will go as well as the last, Simon thought as he walked into a room that used to be part of his father’s seraglio with Belzemine in tow. Though I have my doubts. 

The next chamber was a study of opulence, as befitting a place where his father used to house his concubines. The floors were polished with inlays, the curtains were made from the most delicate kind of threadwork, and the cushioned divans costlier than most nobles’ wardrobe. It even included a luxurious bathing pool, though only one of the three prisoners made much use of it. 

With their crestones confiscated, Justine Eligos and Anselma Flauros had been forced to retake their natural elven forms. The former swam in the pool as if she owned the place, while the latter sat with her niece Elaine near the divan. 

“My apologies for the unfortunate accommodations, miladies,” Simon said. “The guest wing isn’t as secure a prison as I’d hoped, and I’m sure you’d all agree this place beats our dungeons.”

“I must say, I’ve seen better golden cages, Your Majesty,” Justine replied as her head peeked out of the water with absolute confidence. One might have mistaken her for an actual guest rather than a prisoner from her tone. “I will not spit on Frightwall’s brutal charm, but you should visit my own palace one day.”

“I will keep that in mind, Sebile.” 

Using Justine’s true elven name caused the women to frown, with Elaine glaring at him. She had tried the same begging route she did in a previous reign, but gave up upon realizing no words would save her father from death.

“I am truly sorry, Lady Firewand,” Anselma said upon spotting the archmage. “We failed to save you.”

“Have you come to gloat, or to rape us?” Elaine spat at Simon’s feet. “I would rather have your sword in me than the worm between your legs.”

Belzemine remained as emotionless as ever, though Simon did catch a look of guilt in her eyes. Simon swiftly put an end to it. “You never had a chance to succeed in the first place. Your Oracle deceived you and sent you all on a suicide mission.”

“Is that Your Majesty’s grand plan?” Elaine asked with utter disdain. “To sow distrust and turn us against Illusea?”

“Distrust? I’ve never lied to you.” Simon met her gaze. “Do you even know why the Oracle wants Belzemine in the first place?”

“The question did cross my mind,” Justine admitted, while the others scowled. They knew nothing. “Pray, will you enlighten us?”

“Belzemine here is the key to a cataclysmic ritual that will allow all manatrees in the world to flee Brimir for greener pastures, leaving the rest of this world to decay.” Simon smiled at their disbelief. “Yes, indeed. The Oracle does not seek to defeat the Overlord. She wants to escape him with her fellow elves and followers, then leave everyone else to suffer under my and my successors’ rule.”

“As far as lies go, I’ve heard better,” Elaine replied with seething disdain. “The Oracle would never abandon Brimir to you.”

“Please, if she cared that much, why does she hide on her island with her chosen few and send others to do her dirty work? Pointless work, I might add.” Simon waved a hand at Belzemine. “Go on. Use your oathbreaking dagger.” A tense silence fell upon the room. “Yes, I know all about your little scheme… and I know the Oracle knows that it won’t work. This is why I didn’t confiscate them. My brands cannot be removed.”  

Justine scowled and exchanged a glance with her sister Anselma, who then warily approached Belzemine. A silver dagger flashed in her hand in a blink, which she pressed against their elven savior’s hand. 

Nothing happened.

The Devil Brands would not break, and hope abandoned the elves. 

“Do you see now?” It had pained Simon to reapply Belzemine’s brands after removing Gargauth’s old ones, but he put his faith in Memory Snatcher to help her. “It was a fool’s hope from the start.”

“I exist to serve His Majesty,” Belzemine added on her own, which only twisted the knife. “My place is at his side.”

Now that he had shaken their resolve, Simon quickly cast Heart’s Desire on them all to catch a glimpse of their true wishes; though he already had a good idea of what he would find there. Elaine’s wish was the strongest and rawest in its impossibility: a picture of herself with her living father and mother watching the smoking ruins of Endymion. Simon had expected as much, but noticed her desire for revenge stemmed entirely from what happened to her family; remove the root of the feud, and the hatred would peter out. 

Anselma’s wish was comparatively simpler, and showed her living happily with her human husband and adoptive son… without having to hide her true elven nature from the world. Quite the charming sight, and her desire would be the easiest to satisfy.

But it was Justine’s wish that gave Simon the most to ponder. He saw a flash of her ruling the Eligos domain, with familiar pale white skin and red eyes. The sunlight shone upon her as she surveyed her singer-boys and wealth, absolute, eternal, and untouched. 

Interesting. Simon now understood why she invested so much in Darkblood research. She wanted to pursue and complete the mad dream of those who had first brought vampirism to the world. She wants eternal life and the luxuries her position affords her, without the baggage of requiring manaliths to survive. 

Simon had the means to satisfy all of their fantasies, or at least provide a fool’s hope. 

“Considering you’ve all been clearly deceived, I’ve come to make you a proposition.” Simon extended a hand at them. “Will you not entertain joining my service instead of the Oracle’s?”

“Serve you?” Elaine’s shaken confidence was nothing compared to her wrath and bitterness. “After your rotten empire slew my mother and you plot to murder my father next?! Never!”

“I had no hand in your mother’s death, and your father helped murder mine. By your own logic, I would be justified to wipe out your entire family.” Simon sighed when Elaine continued to glare at him. “Your father’s spirit will continue to serve as long as I wish him to… but there might come a day when I will return him to you, alongside your mother.”

Elaine paled. “What are you talking about?”

“Observe.” Simon waved a hand. “Soul Calling.”

He called upon the spirit of faithful goats and materialized them into the room. Their bleating startled the elves with the exception of Justine, whose eyes burned with interest when she realized he had indeed called upon true souls rather than illusions.  

“The spirits of men and beasts are mine to manipulate as I see fit,” Simon boasted. “Your father and mother are no different, Elaine. I can return them to you.”

Well, he could do it with Patriate for sure due to branding his soul, but surely there had to be a necromancy spell that could do the same for Elaine’s mother. Voltobauta could summon ghosts after all. He could fulfill his vow eventually. 

Nothing was beyond him, given time. 

“This…” Elaine grit her teeth. “This is a lie. All your kind does is lie.”

“He isn’t lying,” Justine said as she appraised the phantom goats. “Those are genuine souls.”

“The Oracle and the dryads hoard the souls of the dead too,” Simon said, as his slave goats bleated their shepherd’s praise. “They could have easily returned her to you, instead of forcing her to endure an unnecessary round of reincarnation.”

Anselma Flauros scowled at him. “You sound like the cursed Chrom Cruak.”

“So what? What is wrong about wishing for a loved one’s return, or to seek eternal life?” Simon didn’t fail to catch the glint in Justine’s eyes. “I am the Lord of Dark. I can pull out miracles beyond the Oracle’s power.”

While Elaine remained silent, Justine immediately pounced on the opportunity. “Will we receive a pardon if we swear loyalty to Your Majesty?”

“Yes. You will regain your duchy, and be granted facilities you could only dream of once… alongside eternal youth.” Simon turned to Anselma. “As for you, I can spare your husband and adoptive son. You’ll be allowed to live with them as you are. No more secrets, no more hiding, no more looking over your shoulder. Doesn’t that life appeal to you?”

The duchess held his gaze with skepticism. “You speak of sweet promises, but a demon’s price always outweighs the rewards they offer. You would trade our eternal souls for fleeting promises.”

“I already own your souls. The three of you were damned the moment you set foot into my castle.” Simon could have easily put all three of them under a Brand of Pride, but he would rather have them serve out of their own free will. “What I want is for this pointless conflict to end and for us to work together towards saving Brimir from the real threats.”

“There is no greater threat to Brimir than you and Endymion,” Elaine replied icily. “Your empire is a cancer that won’t stop spreading terror to all corners of the world.”

“I won’t say my empire is blameless, but at least we’re fighting to preserve the world rather than abandon it to demons.” Simon guessed he should have started with that. “I will send you a memo so you can make your own opinions, but I am sincere. I’m willing to make concessions if you’ll agree to drop this feud and work with me.”

Anselma squinted at him. “What guarantee do we have that you won’t betray us?”

“The fact that I could have simply killed or enslaved you? I also have a Judge capable of creating unbreakable contracts.”

“But it’s not obedience or contractual obligations that you want, it is trust,” Justine Eligos guessed shrewdly as she moved out of the pool, droplets dripping down her naked skin. “What do you have in mind? You wouldn’t offer this deal if you didn’t want our magical expertise and contacts.”

“In your case, I will require your diabolism expertise to pursue a certain… project, in partnership with another esteemed scholar of sin.” Simon met her gaze. “Interested?”

“Yes,” Justine replied with hesitation, which invited outraged looks from her family members. She simply shrugged. “We bet on the wrong horse, sister. Why not jump on the better stallion?” 

“My aunt, you can’t possibly believe he will hold up his end of the bargain!” Elaine protested. “He’s the Overlord! Lies and deceit are his weapons!”

“So is our blind prophetess who sent my brother to die and got us into this mess. I will take the party that offers more tangible benefits than the promise of a better world someday never.” Justine smiled at Simon. “Who’s this other scholar I will partner with?”

“A demoness of esteemed renown.” One he would securely brand into obedience this time around. “Agrat of the Night.” 

—-------

Justine earned herself a few brands and a pardon, and Simon had the feeling the others might follow suit soon. Elaine would be the hardest nut to crack, since she had been willing to blow herself up for the cause, but he hoped to win her over in time. He sympathized with her situation, and it would be such a terrible waste for them to stay enemies. 

Mayhaps he should recommend her to join Anna’s retinue as a handmaid under close supervision? Making true friends among Endymion’s aristocracy and showing her she would have an easier time doing good by influencing political figures rather than killing them might dull her edge. 

All in all, convincing elves to jump ship sounded more difficult than expected. They knew nothing of the Oracle’s true plan to flee Brimir, nor of the threat the Zodiac Fiends presented, and they had every reason to distrust the Overlord. He would need to provide strong evidence, and even then he wasn’t sure the likes of Elaine would put their hatred for Endymion aside.

Getting everyone to work together for the greater good was such a headache.

Once he was done with the Malphases, Simon moved on to deal with another family of retainers. 

“Here you go, Hector,” Simon said as he finished placing Hector’s soul into a helmet and then put him atop a golem body for him to inhabit. “We will find you a better body soon enough.”

“Your Majesty is… most kind.” Hector studied his new arm and moved it around with ease, to the joy of his father and sister. “My mind is clearer than it has ever been before.”

“The Overlord’s power is truly a marvel to behold,” Cassandra commented. 

“We will reintroduce you to Lauriane in no time,” Simon concluded. “She will be most happy to see you again.”

“I…” Hector shifted uncomfortably. “I do not feel ready for that…”

“I doubt Her Highness will be pleased to see us either,” Duchar said. “We did not part on the best of terms.”

“Fair enough,” Simon replied. They had time to ensure Hector could be… presentable. “On another note, I would like to commission a special spellcrafting project from you, Duchar.”

“What is Your Majesty’s bidding?”

“I have been researching a way to combine multiple buffs into a single spell. I will be too busy with other matters to pursue my research in the short term, but I would like you to explore the subject in my stead. You will have unlimited resources and funding to pursue it, alongside any more… personal research.”

One separate from Agrat and Justine, to ensure there wouldn’t be any incidents. He also had a certain plan in mind for Cassandra in order to contain Asterion, but the idea of proceeding with it still gave Simon pause. He didn’t wish to endanger her that way unless she consented to it one-hundred percent.

“Your Majesty is most generous, for which I am grateful.” Duchar cleared his throat as he presented Simon with a certain book. “Still, I wonder… why did you insist I bring this book out of the archive out of all of them?”

Simon sighed. “It might hold one of my father’s secrets.”

He could tell from Duchar’s expression that he didn’t believe him, but he was wise enough not to comment. Simon dismissed the Honorius family afterwards and retired to his room to check his father’s awful black book of conquests.

Merely reading the first few pages and seeing naked images of Shabram and his mother with assigned ratings sickened him already. His father had not-so-subtly implied that this book might be his Abyssal Chronicle in disguise, but Simon already doubted it. The traces of miasma on it were too faint, and some of his retainers could read its contents without the pages turning white. His Invert spell didn’t undo any illusion disguising this loathsome journal either. 

Still, Simon forced himself to study the drawings and notes in case he had missed anything. The sight of some of his past lovers’ naked bodies disgusted him to his core, but he swiftly noticed a tiny symbol marked on Shabram’s leg. 

An ‘M’. 

Doubt grew in Simon’s heart as he flipped through pages. Moving to Isabelle Barbatos’ entry let him spot a barely visible ‘Y’ on her skin, but Belzemine had no such mark. He turned to reach Euphemia’s entry to find a new letter, a ‘C’. 

It didn’t take long for Simon to see the pattern. Only ‘conquests’ rated seven and above had such letters. The others like Belzemine or his own mother simply weren’t ‘worthy’ of the honor. Simon promised himself to do worse than stab his father’s eyes when the Serpent-Bearer next shone in the sky. 

He forced himself to dutifully study the entries and write down the letters until the start of a sentence began to appear. 

MYCHRO

MY CHRO

A secret message, Simon thought as he flipped through the pages further than before. The newest entry caused him to pause. It was a middle-aged and mature woman, with red hair, and a face so similar to Anna. Simon briefly feared his father had cuckolded his own blood-brother—which he certainly would have—when he read the caption. 

Maublanc Paimon, 8/10. Made me… made me question myself.

Huh?

Simon blinked a few times, then studied the drawing closer until he noticed a handful of Devil Brands on the woman’s skin… including the shapeshifting Brand of Envy. 

No way… Horror settled in Simon’s heart as he flipped to the next entry and found himself staring at a female clone of a certain treasurer bearing the very same brand. 

Patriate Malphas, 7/10, he sucked me like his taxes. 

No, no, no… Simon struggled not to vomit when he reached the next ‘conquest.’ The woman drawn there had brown hair, a familiar aquiline nose, and scars. She bore a black eye and whip leashes that made it clear Balzam Magnos did not claim her consensually, and she glared at the viewer from atop a bloody wolf’s pelt used as a makeshift bed. The sheer amount of details trumped all other entries, as did the horror of its associated caption. By the Light…

Filip of Cocagne, 9/10, I showed him real kingship, and he gave me fleas.

Simon was thankful for his many ailment immunities, or else he would have vomited on the spot. 

He powered through his disgust and the entries, which included the likes of Knight-Commander Beatrice—rated 8—next to a female twin of Leonard—rated 6—until he mercifully reached the end. No Abyssal Chronicle rewarded his efforts, and Simon would rather fight all Zodiac Fiends at once than read this cursed book again.

He looked at the letters he had gathered, then painfully assembled them into a message from his father; one last hint and jab from beyond the grave.

MY CHRONICLE IS IN ANOTHER ARCHIVE

Simon threw the book at the nearest wall in his fury. 

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