The Hundred Reigns 228: The Land of the Warlords (8) (Patreon)

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The sniper—or at least one of them—was caught and brought before the Crimson Throne. 

“Clive, is it?” Simon inquired as he looked down on his attempted killer, a blonde, stern man with a cold look in his green eyes. “It was brave of you to take a shot at me… and foolish. You were sent to die.”

This man was apparently a respectable level 52 Sniper according to his seers, a Vassal of the Ranger that specialized in instantly lethal long-range attacks. He had used an extremely advanced handheld cannon—so advanced that it exploded when Simon’s crafters tried to disassemble and study it—equipped with highly customized runic manalith projectiles blessed by priests of the Lorean Orthodoxy and optimized to target demonic weaknesses. 

In short, Simon had been shot with the best anti-Overlord weapon since the Mana Sword by someone with a Class optimized to use it. The headshot might have been enough to inflict a lethal wound on him without his buffs, or at least knock him out cold and humiliate him during his coronation. 

Could this be the Musan sniper who had caused his father so much trouble? Simon doubted it. He wouldn’t have survived contact with someone so deadly that Balzam Magnos plotted to destroy the Crafter’s tower rather than directly confront its defender. 

Besides, he had been caught after being put in Stasis by Euphemia before he could flee. Simon couldn’t imagine an elite soldier defending the Crafter having such a vulnerability. 

The man spat on the floor—which earned him a slap from one of Simon’s demotaur guards—and replied with a Musan accent, “Spare me your drivel and just kill me already.”

“If you insist.” Simon glanced at his chief interrogator. “Gourmand.”

“With pleasure, Your Majesty!” The jester happily brought his scythe down on the sniper’s head and consumed his soul. “So much steel for so young a spirit… it has been so long since the good Gourmand could feast on Musan flavors.”

“Get to the point, Gourmand,” Lauriane snapped at him angrily. The coronation’s assassination attempt had put her on edge. “Was he working alone? How did he slip into the capital?”

“The same way everyone did, Your Highness: through the gates,” Gourmand replied. “Poor Clive belonged to a Musan Guild holding a jealous monopoly on those handheld cannons. Alas, when the embassy evacuated, he and two of his comrades were asked to stay in the city with one single, suicidal order: to assassinate the Overlord and any other high-ranked official during the coronation ceremony.”

“So he did have accomplices.” Lauriane clenched her fist. “We’ll track them down, wherever they are.”

“The other snipers teleported away to safety before Her Grace’s Stasis could affect them, but the good Gourmand will be happy to point fingers at those who helped them stay unnoticed till now…” 

“They won’t run far, especially now that we have locked down the city’s exits,” Shabram said before bowing to Simon. “I am truly sorry, Your Majesty. I take full responsibility for this incident.”

“It’s alright, fully securing a million-strong metropolis was always an impossible task,” Simon replied. “Moreover, this failed plot plays into our hands. I’m told Marthrone’s recruitment centers are drowning in submissions.”

“Your speech and display of power certainly lifted everyone’s spirits,” Anna mused. 

“Was it smart to unveil that Frightwall can fly so soon, brother?” Dassein asked. “The surprise is ruined now.”

“I will gladly trade surprise for intimidation,” Simon replied. “I will be moving Frightwall towards Magvolia and then the Dragonsea for an immediate assault on the League of Valne.” 

Louis smiled with glee. “You will lead the charge yourself?”

“Yes, I shall.”

The truth was that Simon had hoped to unveil Frightwall’s flying abilities a bit later, but he would roll with it. Besides inspiring fear in the hearts of their enemies and granting their airships access to a mobile base where they could resupply from, the fortress would occupy everyone’s attention and thus allow other forces to operate with less enemy scrutiny. The Oracle and her followers couldn’t possibly monitor all of Simon’s troops at all times.

“Anna, once we’re wed, I’ll leave you in charge of Marthrone and the empire while I lead our troops. You will speak with my voice, and an order from you will be an order from me.” Simon let out a small sigh. “I know you had hoped for a more elaborate ceremony, but time is of the essence.”

“No worries, a wedding atop a floating castle is sure to be the highlight of the year,” Anna quipped. “Airship-invitation only.”

“Then let us proceed. Maublanc, Dassein, Shabram, Louis, Lauriane, stay with me a little longer.” Once the rest of the council left the throne room, Simon clasped his fingers and faced his remaining advisors. “Have you finished reviewing the files on Operation Meteor?”

“Isabelle believes we can proceed with it within months, maybe less if the local dryad cooperates,” Louis confirmed. His tone implied she wouldn’t, and Simon agreed. “It is a half-measure, brother. You know that.”

Of course he would say that. Worse, Lauriane appeared to agree. “Illusea is shielded by an extremely potent magical barrier. Smaller projectiles might not be enough to punch through it.”

“I have no interest in accidentally damaging the Worldtree and causing a global ecological collapse,” Simon replied. “A more limited bombardment for deterrence ought to put Illusea in its place. We can always threaten to unleash a more potent one if Illusea won’t surrender.”

“Besides, as Louis said, it will be months before it’s even ready,” Dassein pointed out. “We need to move our armies across the Dragonsea soon, or the White Unicorn will land on our shores. Not to mention we aren’t done fully securing eastern Telluria or the Zodiac crystals yet.”

“Our troops will soon be ready for a coastal offensive against Valne, Dassein,” Maublanc reassured him. “As much as I agree with your assessment, I believe our greatest threat in the short-term will be Muse. Their industrial capacity matches ours, and the Crafter gives them a technological edge. They can turn their entire nation into an arsenal, and produce more weapons capable of harming even the Overlord.”

Simon nodded in agreement. He knew from a previous reign that a united House Magnos could quickly conquer Valne, only to be pinned down by Muse’s mana cannons and artillery. Lore and Illusea would use that delay to regroup and turn the war into a stalemate. 

He had to ensure their enemies could never concentrate their forces in one place. 

“Leave that to me, Uncle,” Simon reassured him, a smile stretching on his lips as he enjoyed a private joke the others wouldn’t understand for some time. “I have a plan to take out Muse, or at least confine their troops to their own borders.” 

The Commander squinted at him. “Another secret weapon?”

“We will pick it up in Magvolia on our way to the Dragonsea.” Simon turned to his siblings. “Lauriane, Dassein, you will take Eole to the Sanctuary and prepare the area for Operation Meteor as soon as we complete adapting our airships to travel through its barrier. Lauriane will be in charge.” She was the only one he trusted with something so utterly sensitive, and Simon knew Louis would go overboard. “We only need the Forbidden Keep and uninhabited islands, so I want you to deal with the archipelago's inhabitants fairly.” 

“What about the Adventurer?” Lauriane inquired. “She should be on the islands according to your visions.”

“Alcyone is a skeptic when it comes to the Oracle… but she is a Lorean noble at the end of the day. She will not side against her nation in an open war, and she extracted a promise from Voltobauta to support the White Unicorn.” Considering how fast things were evolving, Simon feared it might already be too late on that front. “Take her alive for interrogation and seize her Crestone if possible.”

“The Adventurer’s teleportation will make that prospect difficult,” Louis said. “She slipped through my fingers in Magvolia once before.”

“The barrier will interfere with her ability,” Simon replied, albeit conceding there were loopholes. “While she can return to Lore if she crosses it, she will have no reliable way of returning to the Sanctuary without her custom airship. We should have time to fortify our position then.”

“She should still be vulnerable to the Anchor status and other anti-teleportation measures,” Lauriane replied. “We have developed anti-Adventurer protocols to deal with her.”

“If taking her alive proves impossible or too risky, then…” Simon took a deep breath. “Then I will understand.” 

He liked Alcyone, Alphonse, and their respective parties, but this was a fight to the death now and the White Unicorn had firmly taken a side. There might be a future where they could ally against the true threats, but it was beyond his reach for this reign. 

No matter. He still had seventy more lifetimes to find the perfect solution. 

—-------

Simon’s second wedding was more modest than the one he held with Euphemia. 

Due to the war on the horizon, they actually decided to officialize Louis’ and Euphemia’s respective marriages right after in order to fully bind House Magnos together. They held all three in Frightwall’s chapel—which Simon considered darkly ironic since Louis murdered their father with a weapon smuggled inside it—with fewer than a hundred guests, most of them being members of House Magnos, the High Council, and the greatest nobles in the land who earned the privilege to board an airship to attend; including Justine, who alone among her family received a pardon. 

Queen Remedia sent her ambassador in her place, being unwilling to set foot in Frightwall and pretending she had to return to Cocagne to prepare Norbelle’s and Verdis’ own wedding to officialize her nation’s alliance with Endymion. This suited Simon just fine, since he could focus on his wife alone without distractions. 

“You know,” Simon noted to Anna on his way to the altar, where Mastemo awaited to officiate their union. “I expected to see more sparks between your father and Euphemia. They’ll be wed right after us, and they look like soldiers marching to battle.”

“Her Grace will never replace my mother in his heart,” Anna said with a hint of sympathy. “There’s a reason why Dad never remarried after she died. She was the best mom in the world.”

Simon scowled. “You think their future marriage is bound to fail?”

Anna hesitated. “Father will be a dutiful husband. He will never cheat on her and do his best to make her happy… but he’ll never love her, no.”

“A shame,” Simon replied sincerely. “She deserves better.”

Anna gave him a strange look. “Didn’t she try to have you executed?”

“It’s… complicated.” As much as Simon still resented Euphemia a bit for that, he had also seen her at her best. “My father twisted her into what she became.”

“That doesn’t excuse everything, though I guess I can’t spit on my future stepmother.” Anna gave Simon a worried look. “Don’t get killed out there, Simon. I’m too young to be a widow, and Mastemo would love to put me in a Megalith convent.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll slip back into your bed before long.”

“Is that so? Then I’ll give you an incentive to come back soon.” She moved her lips closer to his. “I’ll let you put one of your brands on me each time you come back to me.”

She always knew how to motivate him. 

Thus Mastemo celebrated their union to thunderous applause, with Euphemia and Maublanc following suit. The High Confessor had refused to marry Louis and Isabelle due to his personal distaste for the Marshal’s blasphemous ways, however, so Simon had the Keeper serve in his stead. The ball that followed was nice, but nothing to write home about besides the torrid night he spent with Anna right after. Giving someone the Brand of Sloth had never felt so arousing, and ensured he could stay in contact with her no matter the distance.

No more kidnappings. 

The High Council split up on the morning after, with Anna remaining in the capital with Shabram, Mastemo, Odette, and Euphemia to both manage the homeland and ensure the new empress received certain training related to her Light Megalith affinity. The rest remained in Frightwall as Simon began to move his seat west. 

Lord of the Demon Castle required him to sit on the Crimson Throne itself to direct his flying fortress’ movements, and Lauriane had measured Frightwall’s speed to be roughly thirty miles per hour. This was a much slower pace than an airship, but his fortress didn’t need to refuel and could ignore the weather. Its mere movement through the sky whipped up a whirlwind in its wake.  

Simon also used his Perks to reshape many tunnels into airship platforms and hangars so it could serve as a mobile base for their air force. Many of the lower depths remained inaccessible because they were either flooded or dangerous, but this might prove to be the reign where he could finally start cleaning up his basement. 

He wished his encounter with Eole went as well as his military operations. 

“You wish to claim some of my home’s islands?” she asked once he explained some details of his plan, pale with horror. 

“I would like to take the Forbidden Keep off your hands and fortify some of the unused celestial stairway islands, yes,” Simon confirmed. He didn’t tell her his reasons, since it would worry her. “This will protect your Sanctuary from the Goatfish eventual reemergence. I have no desire to bother the rest of your islands, though of course we can arrange a protectorate agreement if they want to integrate into our empire.”

Eole’s hands tightened into fists. “You plan to use the archdemon against your enemies, don’t you?”

Her anger saddened Simon. “You saw me being shot in public, Eole.”

“After you promised to slay all of your empire’s enemies.”

“After they declared war on me. They forced my hand, Eole.” Simon locked eyes with her. “Have I not held up to my promise and abolished shifter slavery? Have I not kicked Vouivre out of Telluria?” 

Eole bit her lips. “Your empire moved in right after that.”

“But the situation is still far better than it was before we arrived. We have put an end to the region’s constant warfare, and shifters are flocking to join my armies for wealth and glory. Have I not earned the benefit of the doubt?” 

Eole hesitated for a moment, but then her gaze turned into a glare that felt like daggers to the heart. “You’re going to take what you want no matter what I say… so why are you even asking?”

“Because I want to avoid pointless bloodshed.” Simon sighed. “But you’re right. I know where your Sanctuary is, and I have the means to take it by force anytime I want. Do you want me to do so, or would you rather settle this with words?” Her silence was an answer in itself. “I do what I must to save the world, Eole. No more, no less. I promise you that.”

Simon didn’t need Heart’s Desire to tell him she didn’t believe his words, and it hurt worse than that bullet had. 

—--

They reached Magvolia on the 1st of Pluviose, one night after the Oracle should have bombarded Frightwall. No Goddess’s Judgment fell on Frightwall or Marthrone, either because the former had left the latter or the Oracle couldn’t tell where Belzemine was. Simon always kept her close. 

Simon ‘parked’ his floating castle near Whispermire, at which point he flew down with a small crew including Louis, Maublanc, and Gourmand into the Halls of the Minotaur. 

“There are a few creatures here you should get along with, and with Classes you will find most… compatible with your own talents,” Simon informed the jester. Moreover, poor Clive had left them with a new Sniper Crestone to make use of. “I want you to recruit a demonic troupe dedicated to my entertainment and protection.”

Gourmand’s grin never failed to unnerve. “The bloody kind, Your Majesty?”

“Yes. You’ll be deployed to the western continent, so put them through an intense training regimen.” Grimm and Gregory should prove rather useful with access to his current resources. “You may select recruits from my personal flock and herd too.” 

“You should have been a farmer, Simon,” Louis commented with a hint of amusement. “You would have thrived.”

“Is that a joke, brother?”

“Not at all. It is a hard life worthy of respect, and whose labor benefits all.” Louis scoffed. “I would rather have more countryside farmhands and less Marthrone paupers.”

“Why are we here, Your Majesty?” Maublanc asked with a hint of impatience as they walked inside the ancient temple. “Is this where your secret weapon is located?”

“In a manner of speaking.” They walked into the Muse’s sanctum, at which point Simon stepped in front of the sealed dryad. “Stone Muse of the Darkwood, I have come for you.”

“Greetings, my beloved Lord of Dark,” the dryad replied with servility. “Have you come to trade my freedom for your love?”

“I hear her words in my mind,” Maublanc commented. His blood-bond with Balzam had left its mark. 

“So do I,” Louis commented, his gaze turning to the crystal. “I didn’t know a fiend could possess a dryad. Interesting.”

“I’m afraid I already have an empress, but your freedom is indeed within reach.” Simon materialized multiple Devil Brands in the palm of his hand. “Swear allegiance to me, become my vassal, and accept these marks of fealty on your soul. Do so, and I will free you from your seal and grant you a vast portion of Brimir to rule as you see fit.”

Long gone were the days when her power eclipsed his own, and Unquestionable Ruler now enforced her submission. “An offer most generous, oh master most foul. I gladly accept this covenant, mine service for power and freedom.”

“Thus I claim you and your seeds to come into my service.” Simon placed his brands on the Stone Muse’s soul and claimed her as his minion. “You are now the Duchess of the Darkwood, and all that your roots touch.”

“Then free me,” the Stone Muse demanded immediately. “Hold up your end of the bargain, and unleash my roots on these rotten lands!”

“Patience.” Simon couldn’t afford to break the seal yet, since it would cause her roots to overrun Magvolia. He created a dark crystal and swiftly claimed the Halls of the Minotaur as his Dungeon. “I will break the seal once we have planted you in your future duchy.”

Maublanc wasn’t impressed. “A dryad is a potent asset, but an inflexible one. Her usefulness will be limited to defending Magvolia, unless…” His eyes lit up. “You mentioned seeds.”

“She can reproduce?” Louis caught on swiftly. “You plan to use her fruits as weapons, brother?”

“It would take years for new Darkwoods to sprout and—” Maublanc froze in place and stared at the Dungeon crystal. “Could it be…”

“You have guessed right, Uncle,” Simon said. It felt weird to call him that now that he was his father-in-law. “I can channel any Lord of the Demon Castle Perk through any of my Dungeons…”

The ground trembled beneath their feet as Simon unleashed his power.

“Including the one keeping Frightwall afloat.” 

A quake seized the Halls of the Minotaur as the Darkwood began to split off from Magvolia.

Although his Dungeon only covered the building itself, the Stone Muse was merged with it and her roots—including her manalith—reached all across the forest. A process similar to the one that lifted the Sanctuary in the sky took place, with tremors mighty enough to reach Whispermire shaking the sundering land. Their noise was soon drowned by Gourmand’s roaring laughter, and a sinister, proud smile stretched across Louis’ lips. 

Simon took his fellow Noble Class users for a swift ride atop his dracozombie to witness the process. They watched a ravine split off the entire Darkwood from Whispermire and the surrounding regions, carrying the cursed island to the heavens the Oracle believed to be the purview of manatrees alone. The forest’s shroud of miasma followed it in its ascent towards Frightwall, leaving a trail of purple clouds in its wake. 

A rush coursed through Simon, born of this triumph and a new level. All of his acts as Overlord and tough decisions were finally being rewarded. 

Level 77 Overlord Perk: Unquestionable Ruler VI (Active): Your subjects can no longer escape their master. You can envelop any patch of land you rule over—including your Dungeons—in a sinister fog. The mist acts as an ethereal border preventing people trapped inside from escaping, and bars entry to outsiders without the use of magic unless you allow them in. Anyone dying in the fog is immediately affected by your Deathmastery Perks and raised as an undead. You can lift the fog at any time. You also learn the Edict of Eerie Storms. 

Edict of Eerie Storms: Even the weather bends to your malevolent will. You cause unrest in the sky by summoning a perpetual storm of your choice. The element of the storm can be chosen from any of your Strong or Very Strong affinities, which will result in various effects.

“Do you see it now, Uncle?” Simon boasted. “Our trump card?”

“We could transport so many troops and monsters with this,” Maublanc muttered under his breath in genuine awe. “Your father would be so proud...”

His comment annoyed Simon, yet gave him pause. Odd that his father had never used this power over his many campaigns, unless… unless he was hoping to keep as many of his strongest abilities a secret until he finally attacked Illusea itself. The Oracle would find a way around any Overlord Perk given time, and he was on his final reign.

It fell on Simon to finish what his father started.  

The Stone Muse swiftly interrupted his thoughts. “What is to be my dominion, Lord of Dark?”

“A wealthy but untamed land.” Simon smiled ear to ear. “An island that already bears your name.”

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