The Hundred Reigns 279: King of Spiders (21) (Patreon)

Previous Chapter

Simon spent the week after the Weaver council meeting mostly exploring the power and limits of Artisan of Wonders in detail. His plan was rather simple: have Granny Radhag develop a vaccine for the elven Fleshplague and then distribute it into the atmosphere with a smaller variant of Chrom Cruak’s pyramid. 

On one hand, the Perk worked as advertised and offered him an incredibly comprehensive understanding of how to create his own flying pyramid. Simon wrote down detailed blueprints in minutes, detailing how to strengthen the foundations so the whole thing wouldn’t collapse when taking flight, which materials would be best to withstand atmospheric conditions, and the mechanism allowing the structure to take off and land safely. 

On the other hand, Simon was starting to see why Jym Coil considered the Crafter inherently limited, and why the Godmind went around abducting thinkers: its knowledge had glaring holes. 

In this case, while Simon’s Perk let him create a blueprint of the pyramid itself, it had holes in critical areas. He could theorize about how to create replica megaliths like Chrom Cruak did, but he couldn’t know for certain. The floating system Artisan of Wonders provided was also relatively inefficient, and Simon was convinced he could vastly improve it by adapting his Darkflight spell. 

The explanation behind these oddities sounded rather simple: not only was Artisan of Wonders limited by the Worldsoul’s knowledge, but by the limitations of the Crafter Class itself. Intimate understanding of spellcasting was the Mage’s purview, the same way the Alchemist held dominion over potions and life-related sciences. Knowledge of how to create artificial megalith replicas was also under the sole purview of an ancient mummy king whose memories never passed on into the Worldsoul. 

The secrets of the undead and immortals were thus safely locked away, especially those of Elios Magnos. 

I won’t create a Crimson Throne replica anytime soon, Simon thought. And while my Perk can come up with instructions on how to build almost anything, it may not be the best one possible. 

It provided foundations, but it would fall on Simon to further build upon them. 

At least Devil Forgemaster worked in tandem to fill in Artisan of Wonders’ holes, suggesting quick and horrifying improvements. Simon might have been better off never knowing that using children as living pillars would greatly improve the miasma circulation flow in buildings, but other suggestions—like using engines harnessing the power of sealed demons recycled into mana—were tolerable.  

And of course, knowing how to build something didn’t provide the materials or workers required to actually make it. Raising an actual flying pyramid would take vast amounts of resources.

However, Simon did see potential synergies with Skillbooks. Pouring all of his knowledge, understanding, and comprehension about creating a flying pyramid into a book and then distributing it to his cattle-warriors would let him create experts from nothing. Having them build the device would obviously take longer than doing it himself with Instant Crafting, but it would allow for the creation of an industrial base that didn’t completely rely on him.  

All in all, he had barely scratched the surface of his newfound crafting potential. His mind swirled with ideas he only needed time to bring into the world. 

Simon was rather happy with the result of all of his compromises: a twenty-five foot tall miniature replica of Chrom’s flying pyramid that used the Orb of Lungwang as a power source and could float indefinitely by its own power. He had improved upon the original design by incorporating Darkflight into the mechanism, increasing the speed and maneuverability for a fraction of the miasma cost.

It’s still insufficient to spray the quantities of our new vaccine required to inoculate Brimir’s elven population, but it’s a start, Simon thought. He could always build upon this by creating new floors below the original until he had a fully functional medical base. If we’re allowed to distribute it, that is.

He had first attempted to spray Valnean population centers with miniature replicas of airships copied from the Crafter’s designs, only for archers and pegasus riders to shoot them down. Information about how Chrom Cruak spread his new Fleshplague had already spread, and people weren’t willing to extend the benefit of the doubt to any unidentified objects in their airspace. Simon was now considering mechanical bird golems capable of passing for real animals as an alternative.

Progress on the cure wasn’t going well either. Granny Radhag had reached level 68 in Alchemist thanks to all of her experience buffs and the work Simon piled on her, but her research into the two Fleshplague strains yielded little results so far. 

On the first Merchday of Brumaire, roughly a month and a half before the Zodiac Parade reared its ugly head, Vouivre and Dassein finally agreed to a meeting with Simon to ‘set things straight.’ The situation had gotten so bad in Magvolia that the White Unicorn had completely abandoned plans to retake the region, and the likes of Cocagne, Bujan, and Fablan had completely closed their borders. Refugees were either repelled or sometimes shot on sight rather than risk them spreading the infection. 

All in all, it was an unmitigated disaster. Elven communities on the western continent were decimated, with the monsters they turned into further ravaging the countryside. Valendre had become a devastated, infected buffer zone between Vouivre’s Tellurian holdings and the imperial heartland Euphemia still retained control over. Global trade routes were in shambles, all countries had turned inwards, and resources were stretched thin. 

The world would face the incoming Zodiac Parade in the worst possible starting position.

At least Chrom Cruak seemed rather inactive. Simon had had Elsa put him under close surveillance since the new Fleshplague strain debacle, and the mummy king mostly kept to his flying pyramid in the upper atmosphere. 

He’s likely gathering resources to rule whatever ashes remain of the world after the Zodiac Parade runs its course, Simon thought as he Attic-walked to Verney’s castle to both see his family and get a report from the Honorius coven. Most of the basement had been converted into a laboratory where Duchar’s group studied the effects of the Fleshplague on captured specimens trapped in dark cells. I might have to prepare for a potential double-cross if we somehow reach the Serpent-Bearer.

“Your Majesty,” Duchar greeted him in the main chamber, a dead mass of flesh that used to be an infected elf strapped to an operation table nearby. Granny, meanwhile, cooked a greenish potion in her cauldron. “We expected you. Your princely brother is upstairs.”

“I’ll be on my way there soon, but I wanted to take a look at your progress first.” Simon glanced at the dead mutant and spotted far too many legs on its surface. These creatures tended to congregate and merge into larger ones, so this one had likely assimilated one or two of its fellows before being captured. “Not too well, I would assume.”

“Results are disappointing so far,” Duchar admitted. “We are working day and night—”

“Vigorously!” Granny Radhag said with a dirty grin that annoyed Simon to his core. It was obvious these two had gotten romantically involved somewhere along the line. 

“—running many experiments—”

“With strenuous assiduity!”

“But more often than not, our treatments destroy the subjects rather than revert them back to their original state,” Duchar confessed as he pointed to their test subject. “Your lady sister outdid herself. People in advanced stages of infection are so warped that they need it to survive, if such a term is even correct anymore. The disease is puppeteering their corpses.”

“So there’s no helping them,” Simon concluded. Or at least, not within their tight timeframe with the Zodiac Parade on the way. “An anti-virus capable of quickly killing the infected will have to suffice, then.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Duchar stroked his beard. “At this point, killing the infected population to prevent it from spreading and mutating any further would be our safest bet to preserve everyone else.”

Granny nodded vigorously. “Granny put the two strains in the same cooking pot as a test, and they started having babies within hours. Yes, hardy little viruses she had to burn to cinders!”

So there was a non-negligible risk the two Fleshplagues may mutate into a third variant should they end up sharing a host. Simon couldn’t allow it. 

“Immediately begin mass-production of the ‘cure,’” he ordered. Most of their drug chemists were out of a job with the loss of their supply lines to Valne and Lore anyway, so they might as well put them to use. “We’ll have it delivered everywhere we can.”

“I cannot bear the thought of raising my dear sweet Cassandra in such a cruel world,” Granny concluded, speaking of her soon-to-be stepdaughter as if she were her own flesh and blood. “A clean, empty plate is better than a buffet of rotten meat, I always say!”

It deeply frustrated Simon that he couldn’t help all the infected since he and his family were directly responsible for their suffering, but necessity called. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time on the matter when the likes of Algozoa threatened to destroy the world anyway.

Afterwards, Simon walked to the castle’s upper levels and its main hall, where Hector hosted a trio of guests waiting for his arrival. Vouivre stood next to the fireplace and watched the inferno, her arms crossed; Dassein stared at Hector with suspicion, perhaps because he had clashed with Verney in the past; and Casval sat without a word, his eyes darting from his sister to the Rider. 

“Simon?” Dassein immediately rose from his seat upon recognizing his sibling. “Is that you?”

“We meet again, brother,” Simon greeted him. “Did you enjoy my funeral? I must say, it warmed my heart that you attended it.”

“You’re… you’re alive? But we thought Euphemia had…” Dassein’s eyes widened as he put two and two together. “From the beginning?”

“I knew there was something different about you when we last met,” Vouivre said, her fist clenching. “You spun a very large and complex web of treachery, Overlord Belias.”

“I take it you’ve figured out my true identity. Very well then.” Simon put on his Overlord armor, Dassein palling at the sight while Vouivre’s scowl deepened even further. “Here is the truth.”

“You…” Dassein immediately put on his Rider’s outfit, a furious scowl on his face. “Did you kill our father and frame Louis for the deed?”

“No. Louis did murder Father, but the Overlord Class deemed him unfit for it and passed over to me instead.” Simon pulled out a grimoire holding the Goatfish crystal. “Since I lacked strength back then, I decided to disappear rather than to involve myself in our family’s petty squabbles and focus on the true threat my Class’ foresight had shown me.”

“You were after the Zodiac Fiends from the start.” Vouivre’s scowl turned into a smirk of amusement. “You think you loaned me the Two-Tailed Fish, and that you could eventually recover it in your supreme arrogance once you had no more use for us.”

“You’re half-right,” Simon admitted. “I helped you obtain the crystal in order to establish trust.”

“You dare speak of trust after deceiving us all into thinking you were dead?!” Dassein smashed the dining table with such strength that it shattered. “Your message said Lauriane lived! Was that another of your tricks?!”

“No, Prince Dassein,” Hector replied calmly. “Milady is alive, though unwell.”

“I had no intention of involving myself in the civil war,” Simon added, besides indirect support. “I only intervened to save Lauriane’s life.”

“She wouldn’t even have been in danger if you had told us the truth!” Dassein snapped angrily at him. “Why, Simon?! If you had told us you were the Overlord from the beginning, we could have seated you on the Crimson Throne!”

“For what purpose? Allow Louis to backstab me as he did our father? Assist you in pointless wars and a sterile conflict with Euphemia?” Simon glared at his brother. “Where did that lead our family, Dassein?” 

Dassein recoiled as if he had been slapped, and he fell back into his seat with a thoughtful look on his face. Casval appeared somewhat concerned about him, but didn’t dare speak up in his sister’s presence. 

“You still benefited from this conflict by supporting us from the shadows,” Vouivre said, assessing Simon warily. She had made no move to attack him in spite of wielding the Beast Class’ overwhelming power, which meant she was far from certain about her odds of defeating him. “You said you sought to establish trust. You hoped to use my power to claim and devour the Crafter Crestone from the very beginning.”

“I did,” Simon confirmed. “And I hope to continue this alliance against the Zodiac Fiends. The Archer will soon gain its full power, and I am gathering Noble Heroes to destroy it.”

His suggestion amused the dragon queen. “And why would I do that?”

“Because unlike your demented egotist of a father, you actually want a world to rule over once the dust settles,” Simon pointed out. “The Zodiac Parade won’t leave much for us to conquer should we allow these fiends to run rampant.”

“You want us to ally until we destroy our common foes, and then you intend to eliminate me,” Vouivre guessed, unimpressed. “Why would I bother with you rather than reclaiming my birthright on the spot?”

“You can try,” Simon replied, smiling smugly. “But if you can’t defeat Euphemia in your current state, what hope do you have of defeating me? You yet lack the strength to claim your own sire’s hoard, or his Horoscopic Sword.”

“Watch your tongue, Magnos, lest you lose it.” A flash of anger passed over Vouivre’s eyes. For all of her power and cunning, she remained a dragon at her core. She couldn’t conquer her greed, nor her pride. “My power knows no limits.” 

“You would have already struck me if that were true, or claimed the Mechanical Tower’s ruins for yourself rather than flee from its defenders. With the Crafter’s and the Rogue’s powers at my fingertips, I could unlock the Chest of Worlds’ secrets for you… not to mention the levels you would gain from helping slay the Zodiac Fiends.” Simon channeled miasma through his hand. “Still, if you would rather fight and add yet another enemy to your list… then I shall indulge you too.”

Vouivre studied him for a moment as she weighed her odds, her body tenser than a bowstring. Her ego had only bloated after obtaining the Beast Crestone, but her inability to fully conquer Endymion yet and to prevail over Muse’s defenses on her own had reminded her she still had some way to go before she could live up to her lofty aspirations.  

“Your arrogance will cost you,” she warned him. “You will regret letting me grow stronger.”

“That entirely depends on you,” Simon replied, though he knew she was probably right. Let’s hope I’m not miscalculating here. 

Simon had grown somewhat convinced that only a powerful team of Noble Heroes could help him overcome the stronger Zodiac Fiends, and Vouivre was simply the best candidate for the Beast available at the moment. The fight with Algozoa would serve as a good test for multiple candidates.

“What about you, Dassein?” Simon inquired. “Will you lend us your strength?” 

Dassein scowled. “I must see Lauriane first,” he said, glancing at Vouivre and Casval. “This is a family matter.”

Simon half-expected Vouivre to blow him off, but she assented to his wish with a nod. “Suit yourself,” she said, before stepping towards the Attic door without sparing her brother a glance. “Casval.”

“Yes, sister,” Casval replied meekly. Simon watched him leave with some sorrow. While Dassein and Casval usually got along, the latter never got the chance to get out of his sister’s shadow this time around. He was still the same subservient dragon he had been at the start of the reigns. 

I miss my friend. Simon’s relationship with Casval had been built on lies and manipulation, but a part of him wondered if he couldn’t recreate it on healthier foundations. One day.

“Vouivre seems to respect you, to trust you to speak with me without her oversight,” Simon noted upon Hector leading him and Dassein to their sister’s quarters. 

“I’m not interested in small talk with you, Simon,” Dassein replied icily. The deceit on his brother’s end had burned much goodwill between them. “You killed Louis, didn’t you?”

“Euphemia landed the fatal blow,” Simon replied. “You were there, if I recall.”

“I also recall that he fell into a trap.” Dassein wasn’t fooled in the slightest. “Shabram took the credit for that one, but it was you, wasn’t it?”

Simon didn’t deny it. “Yes, I laid the snare.”

Dassein’s hands tightened into fists, yet they lacked the overwhelming fury Simon would have expected. “He was our brother, Simon.”

“He was a deranged madman willing to murder his own father for power, alongside an innocent woman who just happened to be there.” Simon held his brother’s gaze. “Would you have let him get away with his kinslaying? Or would you have buried your head in the sand and pretended nothing was wrong, as you usually do?”

Dassein looked away, which was an answer in itself. “Why wasn’t Lauriane with us earlier?”

“She’s… unwell,” Simon admitted once they reached the doors to her quarters. He removed his Overlord armor to avoid spooking his sister. “I must warn you, it might be quite the shock.” 

Hector touched a ring Simon had provided him with to appear as he did in life, then opened the door. The fortress’ guest wing had been redecorated into a replica of the old Magnos family’s ancestral home of Castle Carcass, with Lauriane resting near a window under the care of Pallian and Cassandra. The former was singing her a low tune in his bat form, which soothed her. 

The sight of his sister left Simon’s heart aching with guilt. Not only did she seem to have aged a few years, with her hair having started to grey, but she almost never left her room nowadays. 

“Milady?” Cassandra whispered in her ear. “You have visitors.”

Lauriane turned to her siblings, and the hollowness in her gaze felt like a morning star to the face. “Hector? Simon?” She smiled faintly upon spotting her trueblood sibling. “Dassein? You’re back?”

“Lauriane… I’m so relieved to see you alive.” Dassein took a step forward to hug her, then reminded himself she was sick and instead knelt to her side. His enormous hands seized his sister’s own. “Have they treated you kindly?”

“Who, our servants? Of course they have.” Lauriane chuckled to herself. “You have grown so much since we last met.”

“Have I?” It was then that Dassein finally realized something was very, very wrong. “Lauriane, are you well?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” It was a lie, but she believed it utterly. “I do miss Mother, though. Do you know when she’ll return?”

Dassein’s frown deepened. “Mother?”

“I haven’t seen her or Father in a while,” Lauriane replied calmly, the enormity of her statement dawning on Dassein. “Are they still visiting Uncle Maublanc?”

Dassein was too stunned to answer, leaving that duty to Simon. “Anna’s birth is taking all of their time,” he said. “They’ll be busy doting on her for quite some time.”

“I see… they shouldn’t overwork our castellan like that.”

“I do not mind,” Cassandra replied calmly. “Your happiness brings me joy.”

“Would you like us to take a tour of the gardens, Milady?” Hector asked kindly. “We’ve brought new flowers for you from Fablan.”

“Yes… yes, I wouldn’t mind.” Lauriane touched her forehead. “My mind… the smell will help clear it.”

Her brothers watched on as Cassandra and Hector gently took Lauriane for a walk into the gardens below, then observed them from the window. 

“She’s been like that for a month,” Simon admitted, much to his sorrow. “We started playing along with her delusions after a particularly violent episode. She even mistakes me for our father when I wear the Overlord armor.” 

“What happened?” Dassein muttered quietly. 

“My medics believe she has… regressed, for lack of a better word. Retreated into a fantasy to deal with the stress of her situation.” An inner world where Simon, Hector, and her late mother Eleanor somehow coexisted. “I’m still not sure how to cure her, especially without Firewand’s expertise. Maybe your presence will help.”

Dassein’s fists clenched so hard Simon could hear his bones creak from there. He kept silent for a moment, slowly processing the situation. 

“You’re right,” Dassein said out of the blue.

Simon blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“It was pointless, all of it.” Dassein shook his head. “Not just our conflict with Euphemia, Thalas, and Norbelle. This endless conquest with no tomorrow. I thought we were fighting for Endymion’s glory, to bring order to a divided world, yet whenever I looked back, all I could see were the bodies of the soldiers I had led to their deaths. I’ve had my doubts for many years.”

“Yet you pushed on,” Simon pointed out. His brother’s moment of self-reflection had taken him slightly aback, considering his follower’s mindset.

“I guess it was easier to persist into madness than stand up for what I knew was right.” Dassein stared at his sister with deep remorse. “Now, when I ride across the ruins of our empire to battle my own countrymen, all I can wonder is… How did we let things get this far? The best answer I can come up with is ‘one mistake at a time.’” 

“We are what our father made of us,” Simon said. “He twisted Lauriane by exploiting her grief until the burden broke her, and molded Louis into a maniac… he bears much of the blame for our family’s issues.”

“Even so, it doesn’t absolve us of our own choices,” Dassein replied, not arguing with the point. “He’s been dead for a year, and we ruined ourselves fine on our own.”

“Yes… I feel the same way you do.” A lot of his blunders had snowballed into an outright disaster. “I keep telling myself I should have let you in much earlier.”

“We can’t undo the past, so all we can do is act now,” Dassein replied, unaware of the irony of the situation. “I kept telling myself I had to keep pushing for victory so Louis and my dead men wouldn’t have perished for nothing, but my responsibility is to the living.” He shook his head. “Enough is enough. I’ll let Euphemia hold Endymion’s grave, for what it’s worth.”

“You would abandon the fight?” Simon was somewhat relieved that at least one of his siblings could become mature enough to set aside the family vendetta, but he saw one big issue with it. “Vouivre won’t let you.”

“To the Abyss with her, then. I’ve had enough with redrawing lines on a map with my soldiers’ blood.” Dassein motioned at their sister with his hand. “She’s the only cause worth fighting for.”

“I agree… but I fear there won’t be much of a world for her to enjoy if we don’t act now.” Simon summoned a map from his Inventory and showed it to Dassein. “This is the so-called Dead Island in the Dragonsea. Valne has been using it as a dumping ground for its infected population, but we’ll sterilize it soon.”

“I’ve heard of it.” Dassein crossed his arms. “Isn’t it one of the Pirate King’s dominions?”

“Since I am his lord by oath, I have been able to shroud it in impenetrable mists. Nobody can enter or escape the prison without my permission.” Simon pointed at its center. “And this is where we’ll execute the Archer.”

A/N: heya, a new loop poll is available there if you haven't received the notification: https://www.patreon.com/VoidHerald/posts/hr-poll-which-do-172946445 ; as always, it will conclude with the current reign ;)