The Hundred Reigns 229: The Land of the Warlords (9) (Patreon)

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“Soul Sacrifice.”

Screams echoed throughout the throne hall as Simon’s prisoner—one of the people who helped the Musan snipers stay undercover in Marthrone—shrieked in agony, his flesh and lifeforce devoured by invisible abyssal spirits until naught remained but bones. Power flowed through his Devil Brands and into Simon when the soul was torn asunder, filling him with Hell’s blessing. 

Hasten, Mirage, Rampart, and Barrier status applied for ten minutes!

“The spell will last for one minute per estimated level of the sacrifice, to a minimum of one,” Duchar explained. He sounded rather pleased with their field test. “Each additional sacrifice will prolong that duration, so Your Majesty won’t waste time renewing it.”

It also had the unfortunate price of damning the target’s soul to Hell beyond Deathmastery’s ability to recover, so Simon would have to limit it to enemy prisoners. 

“Couldn’t you incorporate stat buffs in the spell, Duchar?” Simon inquired from atop his Crimson Throne. “Or Regen?”

“Unfortunately not,” Duchar admitted. “Although Diabolism spells can allow for more potent effects than usual for their Tier through sacrifices, there is a limit to how many I can incorporate at once. A spell incorporating many beneficial status effects on top of statistical improvements would be Tier VIII, if not IX.”

Saddening, but hardly unexpected. Soul Sacrifice would still be a welcome addition to Simon’s arsenal, since it combined the effects of Shadowshield and Moonlight Mirage in a single spell with increased duration. 

“You’ve done well, Duchar,” Simon congratulated him. “I will see to it that you receive better materials for your experiments.”

“Your Majesty is most generous. The knowledge and equipment you and Lady Lauriane have already provided proved very helpful to my research.” 

It amused Simon that a lot of the intel he shared with Duchar were discoveries the Warlock had achieved in previous reigns. “I have more work for you. You are aware I have contracted and branded Agrat, yes?”

The dark scowl on Duchar’s face was a rare sight, since the necromancer rarely showed displeasure at anything. “Yes, I am.”

“I have transferred her and Justine Eligos’ division over to the Darkwood fortress to continue their experiments there. I am especially interested in the effects of mutagens on fostering a miasma tree’s growth.” Causing the Muse’s seeds to bloom the moment they were planted would turn them into useful weapons. “I was considering transferring you over there to assist them with the project, but I know of your… animosity for Agrat. I will not blame you if you would rather opt out of it.” 

Duchar stroked his beard, seemingly torn between scientific curiosity and his personal dislike of his ex-wife. “I have no issues collaborating with Agrat again. Her knowledge and dedication to research surpasses even my own.” Which was hardly a good thing coming from someone like him. “However, I do not wish her anywhere near my daughter.”

“The brands I put on her should prevent her from trying anything.” And Simon would have no remorse eliminating her should she disobey. “If she oversteps or tries to approach Cassandra, inform me through the Brand of Sloth and I will end her life with a snap of my fingers.”

Duchar nodded in appreciation. “I am most grateful.”

“Otherwise, has Cassandra given thought to my… special request?”

“My daughter is most eager to bond with the Minotaur if it allows the Muse to free herself. She has… empathy for the creature.” As she always did. “I am wary of this plan, as is my son.” 

“I understand. Proceeding with this will be your family’s choice first and foremost.” 

Simon needed to bind Asterion ahead of his escape under the comet’s glow. Allowing him to merge with Cassandra seemed to be the best solution after much consideration, since he could put Devil Brands on her ahead of time and thus hopefully keep control of the fusion. Asterion wouldn’t remember past reigns until Abraxas returned, which opened up… possibilities.

Still, he was rather leery of endangering Cassandra this way. They wouldn’t go through the operation unless she was a hundred percent certain. 

“Simon,” Maublanc mentally contacted him from his own airship. Simon had branded him alongside a limited cadre of generals and messengers to facilitate coordination. “We will be in sight of Valne’s coast within hours. I have received confirmation from Louis’ fleet that Portempête will soon be within attack range.”

“Then all the pieces are in place. I will soon give the command.” Simon focused back on Duchar. “Gather your family for immediate teleportation. We will soon split off from the Darkwood base.”

It had been days since their armies began crossing the Dragonsea, which allowed Simon to learn more about his new abilities. While he could have two flying bases at once, it turned out he still had to sit on the Crimson Throne to direct his flying island’s flight. His Perks treated the Darkwood as an extension of Frightwall, which it might very well be. Simon was starting to wonder if Dungeons weren’t simply a larval form of his Wicked God form’s ability to incorporate the entire world into his castle. 

Muse was many miles north of the western continent, so Simon would have to direct both of his flying bases to split off soon so the Darkwood could take the quickest flight path towards the republic. Maublanc believed speed mattered more than concentration of force for the initial stage of the campaign, and that forcing Muse to waste time and resources defending its own territory was necessary to secure Valne. 

I currently have one Devour Crestone spot available. I could take the Rogue’s ability to slip past teleportation wards, or seek the Crafter… Simon’s crafting had hit something of a wall due to Devil Forgemaster’s focus on miasmic items, the same way he struggled with his spellcasting until he devoured the Mage Crestone. Vouivre told me Gargauth believed he could build anything should he get his claws on it, and I’m only three levels away from mastering teleportation. It might make the Rogue’s Perk redundant.

Then again, his leveling had slowed down to a crawl now that he was in his high seventies and places like the Chest of Worlds, Chrom Cruak’s pyramid, or even Illusea would require a Rogue Perk to infiltrate. 

Simon had to assess how difficult acquiring the Crafter Crestone would be before reaching a decision. He had unlocked a Devour Crestone Perk every ten levels or so, and it might take multiple reigns before he gained enough experience to access another. 

After teleporting the Honorius family to the Darkwood, Simon mentally directed it to drift northwest while Frightwall continued on its course to Rosanne. He then summoned his key assets for the upcoming battle: Air Commander Ronah Andras, Thalas, and Antonine. 

Lord Andras and Antonine knelt as expected, but Thalas would rather glare at Simon with resentment. It took his fiancée silently pulling his sleeve for him to submit. 

His attitude might prove a problem, Simon thought before he addressed them. “Our attack on Rosanne will begin in a few hours. Our other forces are already in position.”

This attack was only a third of a three-pronged assault on Valne’s coastline. Louis’ airship fleet and General Leraje would besiege Portempête to the south and blast that undead nest to smithereens. Voltobauta was likely to run rather than confront the Warrior head-on, though there was a chance they could capture him and his Necromancer Crestone. Maublanc, Admiral Mizuko, and Queen Melusine would seize the third strategic port of Antillia to the north, cutting off a key sea route and opening the path to Muse proper. 

A pity Simon had to send Norbelle back to Cocagne in order to put a lid on its pro-White Unicorn faction and secure their homeland’s southern flank, since her eidolons could have proved useful. Helel had successfully attacked them through the Queendom once, so he couldn’t exclude the possibility of an Oracle-sponsored attack in that direction. He would recall her to the western continent once they had secured a foothold in Valne. 

Moreover, Simon could always deploy Vayan should things go wrong, now that he had grown powerful enough to command his dark eidolon form. He would rather avoid it out of respect for his friend and to avoid alienating the Sanctuary, but it remained a card to play.

“Lord Andras will initiate our attack with an aerial bombardment of strategic positions. Prince Thalas—” Simon caught a scowl from his half-brother when he said that. “—will lead our ground forces. You will be dropped into the port, and you will secure it so our naval force can make landfall. Afterwards, you will move to take the Monoceros Guild’s headquarters. It is a White Unicorn base so you can expect stiff resistance, but its records may prove useful to our advance.”

Thalas and Antonine made quite the pair when working together. Her Courtesan Class was a pale shadow of the Dancer she fielded against him in Magvolia, but she could still support him in battle well enough. He would fatten them on easy experience until they could catch up in levels.

“Thalas, you will join my Party like our sister before you so that I can track your movements—” Thalas’ expression turned almost murderous, much to Simon’s annoyance. “Are there questions on your mind about this operation, Prince Thalas?”

“I don’t need your handouts!” Thalas replied dryly, while Antonine tried to silently tell him to drop it. Resentment simmering beneath the surface boiled over as Thalas dared to look up and glare at Simon, with no Empress Euphemia around to calm him down. “You don’t deserve your throne, Bastard!”

The word rang out into the throne room and turned Simon’s veins to ice. Antonine’s face twisted in fear, and Lord Andras raised an eyebrow. Simon could have let it slide had Thalas’ little outburst happened in private, but he couldn’t back down from such a challenge in front of his guards and captains. 

Not responding with a display of authority meant losing face. Balzam Magnos would have likely murdered his son in his place, but Simon would rather avoid that outcome; both to spare his sibling and avoid inviting Euphemia’s wrath.

He could only think of one solution.

“You think you deserve the throne?” Simon slouched on his throne. “Take your best shot.”

The words hung in the air for a long time, making it grow cold and tense. 

“What are you waiting for? All you have to do to claim my Crimson Throne is to kill me as you always wanted to.” Simon locked eyes with his brother. “If you can shoulder the consequences.”

No one could blame him for defending himself when so openly challenged.

Thalas hesitated, as his survival instinct caught up to his bravado. A wiser man would have swallowed his pride and apologized, but his arrogance and need to prove himself would not allow him to back down after issuing his challenge.

Thalas put on his Berserker outfit, and Simon blasted him with Hellfire Gaze.

The flames struck him before he could raise his axe and bathed him in terror. His screams echoed loud and clear across the hall, with Lord Andras and Antonine stepping away to avoid the flames. Thalas attempted to summon his axe to his hand to defend himself, but the pain soon became so atrocious he dropped it and writhed on the floor. 

Frightwall and Simon’s own buffs strengthened his Hellfire Gaze to the point the Berserker himself could only yield to its malice.

“This is why I lead, Thalas: because I deserve to.” Simon turned up the pressure until his brother held his own head to banish terrible visions haunting his mind. “If I were like father, you would be dead for daring to defy me, and your Crestone would have gone to someone else already.”

“Please…” Antonine covered her mouth in genuine horror and concern for her fiancé. “Please, Your Majesty!”

“Your only merit was being born a Magnos, Thalas.” Simon stopped his Hellfire Gaze, allowing his smoking sibling a reprieve from his torment. “You are a living pit of insecurity cloaked in empty arrogance… but at the end of the day, you’re still my kin.” 

Antonine moved to Thalas’ side as he gasped for air, holding him. It astonished Simon that she seemed to at least have some concern for him in spite of her self-interested ways. 

“I have inherited our father’s memories, Thalas. A part of him lives through me.” Whether or not Simon liked it. “He never loved you since the day you were born, Thalas, or your mother for that matter. He died thoroughly disappointed in you, and looked down on you to his last breath. Deep down, you know that too.”

Thalas clenched his fists in anger and humiliation, but he couldn’t deny the truth, no more than he did back in Telluria all those reigns ago. He had already reached the same conclusions deep down, and only needed for someone to shatter his pride with force and spell out the truth. 

Hopefully, it would be the start of a good period of self-reflection. 

“Our father hoped we would kill each other, so that the loser would fuel the winner’s growth. Is that what you want, brother? I will give you a chance to live and meditate on that.” He should have the capacity for that, at least. “But challenge me again, and I will not be so merciful. Do you understand me, Thalas?”

“Y-yes,” Thalas muttered, his bravado replaced with delicious fear. 

Simon’s eyes shone again. “Yes, whom?”

Thalas lowered his head in submission and avoided his burning gaze. “Yes… Your Majesty.”

Finally, they were ready to begin again on healthier foundations. 

—---

He came, he saw, he conquered. 

Simon couldn’t really call the takeover of Rosanne a battle, because what could a port with galleys do against a flying fortress backed by an airship fleet? Rosanne’s strength came from its wealth and naval forces. It could mobilize the local Monoceros Guild and field many hundreds of warships to defend itself, but Frightwall’s mere advance whipped up a watery whirlwind that splintered Rosanne’s fleet when it flew over them, at which point Ronah Andras’s air force bombarded them to oblivion. Shabram’s spies had also cultivated good relationships with some local merchants and nobles who gladly shared information on Rosanne’s defenses in return for safety guarantees and a piece of the pie once the dust settled. 

It was a one-sided slaughter. Most low-level spells and arrows couldn’t even reach airships, and unlike Lore’s pegasi knights, Valne was never famous for its air force. Their rare few wyvern riders were shot down and cast into the sea. 

Simon directed everything from his Crimson Throne, using a combination of Brand of Sloth-powered telepathy and old-fashioned long-range communications to coordinate the attack. Thalas had taken over the harbor within less than an hour of his descent, which allowed Endymion’s naval troop carriers to dock and unload their soldiers. Rosanne’s authorities swiftly surrendered after that, though pockets of resistance located around the Monoceros Guild building continued to vex them for some time. Gourmand’s new troupe eventually stormed the place and slaughtered everyone inside, bringing the Siege of Rosanne to a close. 

All in all, the battle had lasted slightly less than three hours, and Endymion didn’t lose a single vessel. They had only forty-eight casualties to report, almost all of them the result of the Monoceros Guild takeover. Thousands of dead sailors' corpses would wash up on the shore for days afterwards, but the city hadn’t taken that much damage. 

The opera house in particular remained intact, which pleased Simon. He had good memories of the place, and was loath to see it ruined. 

“The Monoceros Guild destroyed most of its records during the siege,” Air Commander Ronah informed Simon through telepathy. “Our Scholars are attempting to reconstruct them from burned remains as we speak.”

“No sign of the Paladin or high-level Class users among the dead?” Simon had half-expected Alphonse's party to hold the line in Rosanne considering their association with the city, but he also doubted Lore would be willing to endanger their Paladin trump card before he could catch up in levels. 

“No. Preliminary investigations show the Guild evacuated most of its personnel west, likely to the walled city of Casmene.” Simon recalled it was one of Valne’s most populous inland settlements near the border with Lore, home to a lesser elemental Megalith, and the next target of Maublanc’s strategy once they took the coast. “Cobweb safehouses were mostly emptied when we came, as was the city’s treasury. Most of its elites fled.”

“So the rats saw how the wind turned.” It didn’t surprise Simon all that much. Unlike Endymion’s landbound aristocracy, Valne’s rulers were mostly merchants rich in liquid assets that could be moved around. They didn’t have the same incentive to defend places. 

“Your Majesty’s castle can be seen from miles away. It inspires awe in the wise and fear in the craven.” 

True, any seer could have noticed the enormous armada crossing the Dragonsea. Retreating to regroup with Lore’s and Muse’s reinforcements was the most strategic solution. 

“Keep me informed of any information you can gather from the Monoceros Guild’s records, and gather Imperial Intelligence’s list of collaborators. We will leave them in charge of the city to smooth over the transition.” Simon cut that telepathic line and opened another with his father-in-law. “Report.”

“Our strategy is working perfectly, my liege,” Maublanc replied. “Antillia is ours, and Louis put Portempête to the torch. The smoke reaches all the way to the sky.”

Then Valne’s coast was theirs. “What of the Necromancer?”

“He fled with most of his fleet. I anticipate he will splinter it into smaller groups that will harass our naval forces in a continuous guerrilla campaign across the Dragonsea. Pirates are better at logistic disruptions and hit-and-run tactics than full-scale engagements, and the League of Valne would benefit from delaying our reinforcements.”

“They have little hope of defeating our air force without flyers.” Airships were truly the dominant military force of this age. 

“True, but Valne is not entirely devoid of them. Many of its mercenary companies have long-range capabilities and flyers, and they might locally turn the tide by focusing their troops against one of our three forces.” 

“What are your recommendations then? That our three forces converge onto Casmene as soon as we secure the ports?”

“Yes. Controlling Casmene will block the main road to Lore. If your plan for Muse works, then this will leave Valne entirely at our mercy. This should give us time to crush local pockets of resistance and consolidate our holdings. Lore’s mountains are a formidable natural defense that even our airships will struggle to fly over, so we will need a secure Valne as a forward base before we can consider attacking the Holy Kingdom.”

“Very well. I will leave a small garrison in control of Rosanne and move Frightwall inland.” Simon expected stiffer resistance in Casmene, unless the Oracle wrote it off as a lost cause. “Proceed as planned.”

He wished the next telepathic connection carried as much good news. 

Due to the Sanctuary’s barrier interfering with communications, Simon had assigned a set of winged mephisgoats to serve as his liaisons with Lauriane’s group. His minions could simply fly out of the barrier to relay messages and then return as needed. The one that contacted him soon after his forces entered the Sanctuary had mixed news to offer. 

“You’ve lost the Adventurer?” Simon inquired, his fingers gripping his armrests. 

“She clashed with Lord Dassein, but he was unable to catch her. She fled with a handful of allies past the barrier, though we successfully captured her airship and most of the crew. Lady Lauriane is especially interested in plundering its technology.”

Not optimal, but not too bad either. Alcyone had no way of easily finding her way back to the Sanctuary without her Freedom Bird, and they could use her crew as hostages. “And the locals?”

“Lady Eole is negotiating a settlement with their council as we speak. I am not privy to the details yet.”

Simon doubted Lady Junon and Vayan would be mad enough to resist after Alcyone fled, so Lauriane would begin fortifying the Forbidden Keep soon. However, the Adventurer was now their enemy and the Oracle would soon learn that they had taken the Sanctuary. 

Illusea was threatened on multiple fronts and couldn’t afford to send its limited forces everywhere. Studying where the Oracle would focus her forces and what kind of hidden assets she would bring to bear would provide Simon with intel on what strategy would threaten her most in future reigns. He would then adapt. 

Endymion was at war with the entire world, and it would win handily. 

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