The Hundred Reigns 233: The Land of the Warlords (13) (Patreon)

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Besides mutagenic plants, the “Dark Warrior” Program had yielded a few fruits.

Led by Justine’s department, the program centered around merging a handful of experienced soldiers with contracted archfiends, similar to Simon’s success with Lorimor and the demodragons during his brief alliance with Vouivre. Demonic hosts could use Vassal Classes well enough, so this opened the door to powerful combinations. Simon also saw fit to equip them with soulforged equipment to bolster their effectiveness further.

However, Justine had also experimented with a revolutionary new approach: binding demons not to a living host, but to a Vassal Crestone. Mana and miasma could empower each other, so this idea might pave a way to eventually develop new Classes similar to the Overlord. 

Two volunteers had come forward to demonstrate the results in front of Simon, spears and swords clashing in blows resounding across his throne room. 

Leonard’s Dreadnought Crestone had been merged with Ygnolark, the same Lord of Runes who had merged with Borsh in that reign of ruins. Besides his Class outfit making him grow over eight feet tall, his armor had turned pitch black and its steel now glowed with otherworldly symbols bolstering his strength. Runic buffs covered his Dreadnought Class’ vulnerability to magic and channeled elemental energies into a soulforged claymore he wielded with ease. 

Opposing him was Meredith, who too had undergone a fearsome change. Wolfish pelts grew out of her Valkyrie armor, wings of light summoned by her diadem allowed her to fly, and a demonic lupine spirit guided her ferocious spear. Agrat had contracted the archfiend Fenris—a lesser archfiend of moonlight and carnage—to merge with her Crestone, granting her the ability to inflict crippling debuffs with every strike. 

Simon’s Dark Visionary sight allowed him to see the reason for those changes easily enough: using the possessed Crestones caused the wielders to channel both its archetype and the demon all at once. Justine believed the fiends’ natural abilities partly ‘filled’ the gap in Perks that separated a Vassal from a Noble Class. 

A mighty offense and a near-perfect defense, Simon noted. The possessed Crestones, extensive dracozombie-fueled experience increases, and training should have given them enough might to rival the likes of Thalas in battle. A Judge-backed marriage contract might also improve their skills even further. They’ll make fine bodyguards once more. 

“What do you think?” Simon asked Louis and Maublanc, whom he had invited to watch with him.

“It’s a fascinating breakthrough, though a bit too experimental at this stage for us to rely on,” Maublanc replied. “However, such enhanced Class users will make for effective shock troops if Your Majesty can keep them under control. I recall your father had a similar plan to merge demons with goblinoids. We can pick up where he left off.”

Louis was less enthusiastic. “I have a mixed opinion on the matter. On one hand, I cannot deny those two have gained great strength; on the other hand, I do not believe in power coming at the cost of free will. The channeled demons clearly influence them.”

They do. While Simon’s Dark Visionary sight told him neither of his retainers had truly merged with the demons inside their Crestones, he recognized the not-so-subtle changes in their behavior. Meredith was aggressive and relentless, almost savage, whereas there was a newfound arrogance to Leonard’s defense; a laziness in his parries that betrayed his belief that nothing could harm him. “I take it that you don’t believe in winning at any cost, brother?”

“I believe that power loaned is no power at all. Should those two prevail, whose victory will it be? The men, or the demons guiding their arms?” Louis shook his head. “As much as I dislike Mastemo, those two should aspire to follow his example and dominate their guests rather than give them a foothold in their minds. Demons exist to serve man, not to rule over him.”

“And serve they shall,” Maublanc countered. “We do not have the luxury of being picky with our weapons if we are to win your war, Louis. These shock troops will do just fine once properly tested and mass-produced.” 

Simon was beginning to get a better grasp on his brother’s values over time. He might very well be the Warrior incarnate, putting more importance on the individual struggle than overall practicality in stark contrast with the Commander’s willingness to use any tool available to win. 

“Enough,” Simon declared, both of his retainers freezing in an instant. “I have seen enough. Cancel your Class outfits.” They swiftly obeyed, with Leonard shrinking in size and Meredith looking a little paler than usual. “Are you both well?”

“This is… I am not sure what to think of this Crestone, Your Majesty,” Leonard admitted. “I could hear whispers in my head. My thoughts were not entirely my own anymore.” 

“Mine neither,” Meredith said, sounding a little shaken. “I craved blood.” 

“Yes, I can see that.” This might cause problems. Simon had no wish to see these two accidentally possessed. “You’ll use normal Crestones during deployments until we’ve ironed out the kinks of these new weapons, and you will be duly rewarded as promised.” 

“Words cannot define my gratitude, Your Majesty,” Meredith said with a deep bow. Simon had granted her a higher noble title of Countess and a demesne taken from the elven conspirators, transforming the D’Ose family into a mighty noble house. “I swear on my honor I shall prove worthy of your trust in me.”

Leonard nodded as well. He had volunteered to join the program out of gratitude for Simon sparing Tiella from the fallout of her previous fiancé’s arrest during the purges. 

A telepathic message from Duchar intruded upon Simon’s mind. “The Musan coast is within sight of our scouts, Your Majesty.”

At last. Simon had spent the better part of several weeks following Casmene’s conquest splitting his time between training and sitting on the Crimson Throne to guide the Darkwood to Muse. His mind had grown so used to it that he could hold an audience while doing so, but being forced to sit on the Crimson Throne for so long was such a pain. He had to find a way around his Perk’s limitation to make the process easier in the future. 

If you three ghosts are listening, then please give me a Title for it next time, Simon thought before answering out loud. “Prepare for deployment. The Darkwood will reach Muse within hours.”

“At last.” Louis didn’t hide his joy. “I have longed to put Muse’s ingenuity to the test for many years.” 

“The Vernal Equinox will soon be upon us,” Maublanc noted. “Knocking Muse out of the war before then would help us consolidate our gains.”

“Indeed,” Simon confirmed. Frightwall should have fully recovered by then. “Lord Commander, I leave Frightwall and Valne in your capable hands until Louis and I return in case our foes attempt something. We will keep in touch during the assault.”  

“It would be wiser if Your Majesty stayed here and let me manage the attack on Muse,” Maublanc warned him. “A floating island moving at barely thirty miles an hour is hardly subtle, and no doubt Muse is aware of our movements. Exposing yourself is risky.”

“Most of the troops engaged in this particular assault will only obey my direct commands, and I need more combat experience.” Simon summoned Deathmace to his hand. “Worry not, I shall follow your strategy to the letter.”

After teleporting Louis, Meredith, and Leonard to the Darkwood, Simon returned on his Crimson Throne and focused his full attention on the floating island. His senses spread to the floating Dungeon the same way his Perks let him watch events through Frightwall’s windows and let him see Muse’s rocky coast on the horizon. 

As per Maublanc’s suggestion, Simon had sent the Darkwood on a crash course with the republic’s main exportation port of Lampwick. Its vast harbor was located in a lagoon protected by two mountainous cliffs leaving a single strait where ships could pass through. Simon could see a glimpse of many warships hiding in wait there, ready to defend the shining city beyond. The Crafter’s Tower was hardly visible in the far distance, like a faraway peak. 

However, the fleet didn’t bother Simon as much as the gargantuan colossus keeping watch over the strait. The famous Golden Champion was one of Muse’s architectural wonders, a massive, bulky armored statue of gold nearly one hundred and fifty feet tall. Wrapped in heavy lacquered armor radiating a warm light and bearing a crowned helmet shaped like the sun, the titan raised a massive lighthouse-torch scepter that gave the port its name with its left hand. Its face was a prismatic mirror reflecting the sunlight into multiple colors. 

Although it had yet to see use since its creation over fifty years ago, Imperial Intelligence believed the Champion was an automaton armed and designed to stop invasions of Muse. The city had moreover prepared for an attack by placing cannons on the cliffs and warships at the strait’s entrance. Simon also spotted a mix of flying hot air balloons and five airships similar to the Freedom Bird hovering over the strait. It appeared the Crafter had begun mass-producing those vehicles as soon as the republic declared war on Endymion. 

Still, the fleet remained small, so Simon guessed they had arrived before the republic could fully mobilize its industry for war. Lampwick’s shipyards could produce warships at an incredible pace and represented one of the republic’s core economic centers. Destroying it would be a crippling blow to Muse’s ability to supply its allies overseas. 

Simon would rather have visited this city under a banner of peace, but its people had brought their destruction upon themselves. 

“At long last, a worthy land in sight,” he heard the Muse rejoice through their telepathic link. “Cast those metal trees down, for my roots to fester and spread!”

Simon caused the floating island to speed up as fast as his magic would allow, so the people of Lampwick were welcomed to the sight of a floating miasma tree speeding up towards their shores. The cannons on the cliffs opened fire the moment the Darkwood came within range, unleashing manalith projectiles surging across the air in devastating volleys. They struck the Darkwood’s edges and blasted apart blackened trees alongside some pieces of land. Some blasts hit the Muse’s miasma tree enough to shave some bark off its surface, with the Muse shrieking in fury from inside her prison. 

However, while their impressive firepower might have been enough to tear warships apart or bring down a castle, it was little in the face of a floating island; especially one that could fight back. Endymion had transferred cannons seized from the Freedom Bird to the Darkwood and used them to retaliate, blasting the cliffs as airborne monsters, wyvern knights, and aeromages flew out of the forest to harass the enemy. The latter unleashed spells at the Musan artillery until the sky became a lightshow of bright flashes and explosions. 

Simon remained relatively confident until some of those blasts began to echo beneath the Darkwood, damaging the tips of the Muse’s roots. He could feel the explosions ripple through his Dungeon’s stony skin. 

“What’s going on?” he inquired telepathically. Had invisible units managed to slip past their notice?

“Bugs gnaw at my roots!” the Stone Muse complained. 

“Beneath the water, sir!” one of his fiendish minions explained. “Machines! Machines underwater!”

What the? Simon focused his attention on the Darkwood’s bottom, his stony eyes gazing into the sea below. He quickly spotted bulky, nautiloid-shaped forms beneath the waves; mechanical vessels roughly the size of warships and capable of throwing frost-manalith projectiles at the island floating above them. Ice spread where they struck, weighing down the island and bringing down chunks of its stone into the water. 

The enemy’s plan became clearer when more of the underwater vessels used chainbound harpoons to pull the Muse’s exposed roots, much to her fury. Was the Crafter hoping to drag the Darkwood into the sea before it could reach the shore, or to simply break the island into smaller pieces by striking at key areas? 

An ingenious weapon, but a futile effort nonetheless, Simon thought before relaying orders to his troops. “Unleash the amphibious force.”

Although Queen Melusine’s mermaids were mostly occupied blockading coasts closer to Valne and the navy was busy ferrying troops to the western continent, the imperial army had brought some other assets: rahab-type fiends eager to tear apart sailors, crustaceous warbeasts, and even Classed Fishermen riding mutant sharks into battle. They were swiftly dropped into the water to wage war on Muse’s amphibious machines and ships alike. Demonic sea serpents and other creatures swarmed the underwater vessels and pulled them down into a watery grave. 

The bombardment from the shores slowed down, likely due to a temporary shortage of manalith projectiles or overheating. Muse’s few airships and hot air balloons advanced towards the Darkwood and engaged the imperial air force in battle. They fielded fewer spellcasters than Endymion’s army, but compensated with Classed Crossbowmen and those annoying gun-wielding Snipers. 

Endymion had phased out hot air balloons for airships because the fragile devices were only one projectile away from being brought down, and their wyvern riders quickly proved it by taking them out with javelins. The Musan airships, however, quickly blasted a path to the Darkwood with their own cannons and then began to drop bombs from their cargo holds onto the forest below. Incendiary explosives quickly set chunks of the forest ablaze in a tide of greenish flames. 

Alchemical bombs. The Darkwood’s moist atmosphere and marshlands should have prevented any fire from spreading, but the substance used by Muse managed to burn on through mud and water alike. 

No doubt they planned to burn their way to the miasma tree, but horrors welcomed them from the depths of its toxic atmosphere: flying chimeras assembled in the depths of the Goetia Research Facility, many-eyed watchers, gargantuan undead abominations Duchar had raised from hundreds of dead beasts that once called Magvolia home, and one foe more fearsome than all of them combined. 

Louis announced his presence by bringing down the first airship with a well-placed volley of enchanted swords tearing its hull apart.

The Warrior repeated the same tactic he had pulled on Helel in a previous reign, constantly summoning shields beneath his feet to climb a stairway into the sky. He reached the second airship in record time and smashed through its front windows to slaughter the crew inside with cruel bloodthirst. 

At least one of us is enjoying himself here. Simon didn’t entirely share his enthusiasm, since the damage to the Darkwood was causing chunks of it to fall into the sea. Moreover, the Golden Champion had begun to glow, its gilded cuirass heating up until flames danced around it. “Troops, prepare for landing.”

The Darkwood had approached the cliffs enough for Simon to direct the floating island to begin its descent. The massive flying fortress slowly fell into the shallow waters below, crushing ships and unlucky troops unable to flee in time. Great tides swept away rocky beaches and reefs for miles from the point of impact and rippled further into Lampwick’s harbor. 

The Darkwood had plugged the strait, and the Muse’s roots reached the cliffs surrounding Lampwick. The lagoon had now become a lake cut off from the sea, trapping its remaining vessels inside. 

True to its reputation, the Golden Champion animated to defend its home. The enormous machine began to lumber off of the strait and stepped onto the Darkwood. Its mighty feet crushed dozens of trees with each step, the intense heat radiating from its body causing the air to shimmer around it. It waved its torch-scepter with both hands and poured its flames onto the woods to worsen the inferno started by the alchemical bombs. 

A volley of spells from the Darkwood’s defenders ought to have struck the Golden Champion by now, yet none materialized. Only alarmed telepathic messages—and the feedback of deaths rippling through his Devil Brands—followed the giant’s assault. 

“Sir, we cannot cast spells anymore!” one imp messenger complained. “The Golden Champion negates our magic!” 

An anti-magic ability? Indeed, Simon could see that a bubble of pure air surrounded the Champion in a hundred-foot radius or so from the machine. The very miasma in the air dissipated thanks to a strange, invisible force. Still, it can’t negate my brands, and it is too little too late. 

It was time for the Overlord to make his entrance. 

Since he no longer needed to stay on the Crimson Throne to move the Darkwood around, Simon teleported into the Halls of the Minotaur’s sanctum. Duchar, Agrat, Cassandra, and many others had taken refuge there, watching the battle from afar. The airships’ bombardments could be heard from here as Louis and the air force continued to harass Muse’s forces, whereas the Golden Champion strode across a sea of flames in the distance. 

“It is time for the world to feel our might,” Simon declared as he summoned his Crown of the Minotaur from his Inventory. “A fitting diadem for our new duchess.”

He placed the iron crown upon the Stone Muse’s head and let the artifact work its magic. The miasma crystal holding Asterion moved into its central hole, splitting it off its host and transferring the elven seal keeping the Minotaur imprisoned while at it. The petrification spell holding the dryad prisoner faded away, allowing her to burst out of her prison. Waves of poisonous spores filled the room alongside her dark cackle. 

Being split off from Asterion did not purify the Muse of centuries of miasmic exposure. Although she lacked the bull horns of her demonic guest, she emerged from her prison as the same fungal horror Simon had once unleashed with his Seasonal Key Ritual many reigns ago. 

“I live!” Leanan the Muse roared with glee at her newfound freedom. 

“Yes, you do,” Simon confirmed. He moved to a window to watch the result of the Stone Muse’s escape. The entire Darkwood shook and trembled as energies accumulated from centuries of harvested souls suddenly burst free in a mighty pulse of miasma. 

The burning forest grew anew, with new mushrooms and lichen sprouting in an instant to smother the flames through sheer weight of numbers. The miasma tree bloomed with poisonous flowers and its toxic cloud spread into the sealed lagoon. The dryad’s roots erupted from her dominion to dig into Lampwick’s cliffs, spreading across Muse’s coast and quickly reaching the city itself. A tide of wood would soon engulf it all. 

And this was only the beginning of Lampwick’s troubles. 

“It is my desire as Overlord that this land learn the peace of power!” Simon chanted, weaving the strands of his will into the tapestry of reality. “Let the eerie storm of my wrath blow until Muse ceases its hostilities against our land of Endymion and walks the path of peace! Let the sky rain poison until the flames of war are forever doused!” 

He cast his Edict of Eerie Storms and bathed the world in Ailments. 

The very weather bent to the Overlord Class’ malevolent will as its magic warped the skies. Sickening green clouds appeared out of nowhere in a seventy-seven mile radius centered around the Darkwood’s crystal-heart, shrouding the dawn for an enormous chunk of Muse’s coastline. Dreadful winds lashed Lampwick while violet lightning made of ionized miasma danced upon its metal towers. 

And then it snowed death.

Large globs of viscous multicolored slimes fell down from the sky in a sinister downpour that stretched across the entire horizon. They exploded upon impact with the ground into puddles of viscous ooze, paving the land and poisoning all that they touched. Those that shattered onto the land would burn unprotected flesh with acidic hunger, whereas those that reached the water quickly contaminated it. Lampwick’s lake and water sources would fester with disease and poison, leaving the land rotting and barren.  

To Muse’s inhabitants, it would be an ecological disaster never before seen; to the Darkwood’s inhabitants, it was merely a rainy day. 

The Republic knows what to do to end their plight. Simon’s Edict would end should Muse agree to a ceasefire. As much as he disliked the death toll it would likely inflict on the civilian population, it would be a relatively small price to pay if it managed to force the nation to sign a peace treaty. This world only understands force. 

The rush of experience coursing through his veins was almost enough to assuage his guilty conscience. 

“I have given them despair,” Simon said, his baleful gaze turning onto the Golden Champion, whose untarnished gold would not yield to his poison. “And now, I shall crush their hope.”

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