The Hundred Reigns 287: The Five Sovereigns (4) (Patreon)

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Simon looked upon his work with satisfaction.

After spending the last few reigns experimenting with patsies, Artisan of Wonders had allowed Simon to perfect his fakelord idea to its logical conclusion: a purely functional Overbot automaton capable of fully impersonating him. 

His resulting creation took the form of a hulking, nine-foot tall improved turk replicating his Overlord armor. This colossus of angled metal radiated an unsettling, miasma-powered presence fueled by a demon-infused manalith core. 

It had fire eye-beams, paralyzing waves, spike-projectiles, a murderous aura powered by a weaker version of Nodens’ Apocalypse Song, the ability to reanimate corpses as undead with a miasmic pulse, foot-propellers granting it limited flight, and pre-recorded Techniques like Underworld Hammer.

It was mighty. 

It was perfect.

It was alive!

“Truly a great display of engineering, Your Majesty,” Shabram commented. She had set up a safehouse for Simon to work in peace within after procuring the raw materials he needed. 

“I estimate it to be roughly the equivalent of a level 63 Classed individual, which should be more than enough to slaughter almost anyone in its way, with integrated teleportation gems that will let it retreat to safehouses in a pinch too,” Simon boasted as he finally activated his creation. “Now, my Overbot, awaken!”

His creation came to life in an instant. Its fire-rune eyes glowed with malevolence, and the mighty morning star mace in its hand stomped the workshop’s floor. “I hear you, my master.”

“Who are you?” Simon inquired. 

“I am Laurent Linconnu, Fourth Overlord, and rightful ruler of Endymion,” the machine said with a deep, reverberating voice. “The shepherd of all!”

Excellent. Although Indomitable Crown prevented Simon from copying his own memories, he had managed to use Mindflayer and runic scripts to partly ‘emulate’ his own personality, though he had been careful not to give his creation a soul. It remained an automaton capable of mimicking humanity rather than a fully sentient creature like Bert, with multiple self-destruct failsafes. 

I will not, under any circumstance, build something smarter than I am. Simon didn’t want another Godmind situation. That won’t end well.

The lack of a soul prevented Simon from adding the Overbot to his Party, so he had come up with a clever way to imbue it with Anathemic Secrecy: equipping it with a soulforged ring infused with a branded spirit directly connected to Simon. The entity within shrouded the Overbot in its anti-divination aura and could relay orders directly from the true Overlord to its impersonator. 

Still, this machine should hopefully work on its own without too much oversight. Simon intended to assign it a crew of demotaur and mephisgoat, then unleash his creation onto Telluria to act as a warlord keeping everyone’s attention. Its abilities and pre-recorded personality would let it act on its own initiative more effectively than the likes of Hector or Bert could.

And if the first test was successful, then Simon would begin mass production. 

However, many of his hopes were dashed once ‘Laurent’ spotted Shabram. “Woman, back to the harem with you,” it said. “Wait for your assignment in the correct lovemaking position.”

“What the—” Simon choked while Shabram raised an eyebrow. “Where did that come from?”

“Women deserve a better man; Laurent is the best man there is; Laurent will create a perfect world where everybody is happy,” his automaton answered as if it were stating facts. “Ergo, utopia for Brimir’s women will be achieved once they all join Laurent’s harem, because he is the ideal partner. Laurent’s logic is flawless.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Didn’t Your Majesty say this construct emulates their personality?” Shabram asked with a hint of amusement. 

“Something has clearly gone wrong.” Simon had exaggerated a few of his Overbot’s traits in order to ensure it would act like a proper Overlord, but this… this wasn’t supposed to happen! “Protocol update: cancel all libido-related patterns.”

“Protocol update… reassessing priorities.” Laurent Linconnu nodded, but somehow its new conclusion wasn’t any better. “All men and women must now join Laurent’s flock, for he is their shepherd, knows best, and deserves their mindless adoration.”

“Eh, close enough,” Simon decided, though he did wrestle with doubt. “Shabram, do I truly sound like that?”

“I must say, Your Majesty’s insistence on turning cows and goats into demons did give me pause for a moment.”

“It’s not my fault if they’re the most loyal and competent minions I’ve had besides you.” Simon let out a sigh. Perhaps he should pursue that demon chicken idea of his in order to add some variety to his followers… “Anyway, any new developments to report before I deploy Laurent into the field?”

“I have taken steps to ensure Prince Dassein will capture and arrest Casval Ashmodai before any harm comes to Lady Anna, as you wished,” Shabram replied. “Lady Firewand will be officially summoned back to Frightwall on the eve of the planned bombardment as part of the ‘investigation’ into His Late Majesty’s demise.”

“Good, good.” Even if his Overbot plan failed, this would at least delay any civil war for a few months. “I must say, Shabram, you’ve been the best helper I could have ever hoped for. You’ve honored me where others fell short.”

“I live to serve.” Shabram’s eyes darted from him to the Overbot, a strange smile forming on her face. “I shall satisfy any of Your Majesty’s requests to the best of my ability.”

Definitively stripping all Overbots of anything libido-related in the future to avoid future embarrassment, Simon thought as he crushed a teleportation gem and returned back to an empty house in Cocagne. This location served as his fallpoint with Endymion until he could complete the Dark Door spell. Onward to the next issue at hand. 

His next stop was Cocagne’s Grand Library, which Remedia had been gracious enough to grant him limited access to; most likely to observe his abilities. Simon had done his best to hint—without ever confirming—that he wielded the lost Librarian Class, so the queen likely had an interest in watching him use his Perks in an attempt to reverse-engineer Libromancy. 

The library unfortunately lacked much information when it came to advanced magic, since the queendom’s noble houses jealously guarded their secrets, which made Simon wonder if he shouldn’t spend a reign robbing them of their archives in the future. However, the information he was looking for should at least be mentioned somewhere, especially in a country with a syncretic Phoenix-Church of the Light cult for a main religion. 

Eidolith, eidolith… It took Simon a while, but he eventually found a mention of it in Stones of Legend. This obscure book compiled most forms of magical stones, from manaliths to dynaliths. “It has been found that some eidolons, to avoid destruction or save mana, will revert into a state akin to a manalith; coalescing their essence into their core and entering a deep slumber. Pre-System shamans and Visionaries would use these stones as catalysts to manifest their gods in times of need.”

Interesting… Simon guessed it made sense. Eidolons were like elves in that they required a constant flux of mana to maintain their lifeforce, with the former receiving it from faith rather than the environment. Something as powerful as the Phoenix likely wouldn’t be able to sustain an avatar at full power at all times outside of a manatree’s environment. 

Eidolons losing too many worshipers or overtaxing themselves might thus degrade until only a core of crystallized mana remained, or willingly assume such a shape to economize mana. Simon wondered if the elves got the idea for Crestones by observing this phenomenon. 

Come to think of it, the Phoenix took the form of a shining egg the size of a small house in its sleeping form. Could that be its eidolith form?

So that’s what Norbelle suggested: that I summon an eidolon in a crystal form, which wouldn’t cost as much miasma as manifesting them at full power, but let me channel their Auspices all the same, Simon thought. Still, how do I do that? I could order the dark eidolon I summon to forcefully transform into an eidolith, but that will be difficult to do in the thick of battle… not to mention I would have to summon the full avatar first.

Norbelle wouldn’t hint at this method if it were so unwieldy to use. More likely than not, there was a way to directly summon the eidolon in its eidolith form. Something he could achieve with practice.

Simon had the feeling he and Norbelle would be quite busy during their world trip. 

Otherwise, visiting the Grand Library also let Simon explore another longstanding theory of his.

“This is the original manuscript of The World Before the End, a founding monument of historical research on antiquity and pre-Doom civilizations,” one of the librarians told Simon upon presenting him with a thick, dusty book heavier than stone. “I must warn you that it is written in ancient Elvish rather than more modern languages, Your Highness.”

“It doesn’t concern me,” Simon replied as he slowly browsed the ancient pages. The contents—which he had already read from more recently translated editions—didn’t interest him as much as the book itself. It’s a mana-aligned Grimoire, I’m sure of it. Magda was right, the faith and fame go back to the original manuscript. 

While Simon’s Dark Visionary sight mostly focused on detecting miasma, combining it with various buffs let him detect faint traces of mana on its pages. It could serve as a focus to cast a Libromancy spell; albeit one Simon wouldn’t be able to use himself due to its mana affinity. He still recorded The World Before the End in his Abyssal Chronicle for further research. 

“Would the Grand Library happen to host more… controversial books?” Simon asked. “Like maddening documents written by suicidal mad poets, or cooking recipes written on human skin? Anything of the sort?”

The librarian stared at him for a very, very long time before answering with a firm, “No.”

“Not even a Diabolism grimoire? Surely one of your spellcasters tried to write a novel in virgin blood at some point or another?” 

“If a noble house of Cocagne wrote something so specific—which we would condemn in the strongest of possible terms—they must have kept it in their personal libraries rather than surrender it to the public.”

“A shame.” Simon truly needed to go on a robbing spree in the future. All that knowledge belonged in his arsenal, not some dusty noble’s attic. 

With no miasmic Grimoire worth his while to find in the Grand Library, Simon changed his approach and instead took a moment to visit Cocagne’s Fire Megalith. The authorities kept it in a cathedral northeast of Fabliau, at a spot that used to house the Phoenix until the royal castle took flight centuries back; and much like its kindred, it bore a faint stain of miasma for Simon to study. This should let him create a new Tier VII fire spell given time, the same way he came up with Chaos Wind after observing the Wind Megalith.

Simon was still a long way from overhauling his elemental spell arsenal, and Norbelle’s world tour could be the best opportunity to complete that homework. Moreover, his Artisan of Wonders Perk provided him with the schematics of the same machines Muse used to harness power from their Megalith. While he knew the long-term impact of using this technology would be disastrous for Brimir, it could fuel powerful machinery like flying fortresses or Champions that could come in handy during the Zodiac Parade, or help him forge better gear.  

The Crafter’s knowledge had opened up many doors, but he needed more time and specific resources to fully explore its applications. For example, while Simon had come up with blueprints of a new variant of elemental ring capable of protecting him from multiple elements at once, actually smithing it required rare materials like a manalith infused with multiple forms of magic, fairy gold, miasmic obsidian, and dragon blood for the forging. 

In short, he was unlikely to be able to make it without Endymion’s wealth unless he dedicated a full reign to gathering the necessary ingredients, which he would lose on the next reign either way. Yet another hassle that the Dark Door spell would help him with. 

So many new paths would open once he unlocked that spell. 

—--------

The night of the ball eventually arrived, and Simon caused an uproar the moment he stepped into the room with a woman on each arm.

On his right was Shabram herself, freshly disembarked from an airship for the occasion. Whereas many noble ladies would wear jewels and the finest of silks to show off their status, the spymistress simply showed up in her Dancer outfit; a subtler and yet mightier show of power. 

And on Simon’s left was Agrat, who wore a dazzling and lascivious black silk dress showcasing her demonic wings, tail, and other assets. A cadre of lesser succubi handmaidens followed after them in regimented order, drawing whispers, shocked gasps, and Norbelle’s laughter.

“My, my, what a rascal you are Simon,” she teased him upon greeting him with Verdis, who looked torn between glancing at his fiancée’s rather revealing dress, or keeping a watchful gaze on the demon present. “I know Mother asked Shabram to keep an eye on you, but I didn’t think she would take the assignment so seriously.”

“Your brother asked very nicely,” Shabram replied with amusement. “Besides, where could the Dancer be more at home than in a ballroom?”

“Indeed,” Simon replied. Inviting Shabram to the occasion was his way of providing her with as many leveling opportunities as he could. “Otherwise, Norbelle, let me introduce you to Agrat Bat Mahlat, nightqueen and archdemoness of Hell.”

“A pleasure, Lady Summoner,” Agrat introduced herself by kissing Norbelle on her cheeks, to the muffled horror of many. It said something when the shifter spymistress might be the least scandalous pick among his dates. “Tales of your prowess have reached even my ears.”

“Of course they did. I like my demons safely bound and chained.” Norbelle squeezed her fiancé’s arm. “You will protect me if anything happens, won’t you, my dear?”

“Y-yes, of course Norbelle.” Verdis remembered the basic rules of courtesy and kissed both of Shabram’s and Agrat’s hands, though he barely touched the latter’s skin. “A pleasure, Lady Shabram. I am pleased to see Endymion allows shifters to rise as high as you.”

“Few people call us by the name of shifters rather than the beastmen slur,” Shabram noted. “Then again, I hear your father lobbied extensively against the Tellurian slave trade in Cocagne.”

“It is a plague,” Verdis agreed earnestly. His father must have enlightened him on these particular social issues, though Simon knew his mother slowed down reforms to preserve political stability. “We intend to pick shifters to replace any empty seat in the Wildguard, to show our citizens that they are people like us.”

“You are so progressive, Verdis,” Norbelle said, though she clearly didn’t believe any of it. “You would get along so well with my brother Dassein.”

Simon wasn’t sure how to take that remark, and his gaze instead wandered to the royal couple as they entered the room. Remedia was dazzling as always, and Filip managed to look kingly for once, though Simon could sense the invisible gulf between them in the way they held each other’s arms. They must have argued right before entering the room. 

Joining forces in the political arena clearly hadn’t been enough to mend their marriage. 

“Father, Mother, you look so lovely tonight,” Norbelle complimented them. “I hope Verdis and I will match as well as you do.”

“Thank you, Norbelle,” Remedia replied with a strained smile, before blinking upon noticing Simon’s companions. “Agrat? Lady Shabram?”

“Greetings, Your Majesty.” Shabram nodded politely. “Their Highnesses both invited me to perform tonight, as a show of friendship between our nations.”

While Filip scowled angrily at this, Remedia went along for decorum. “A spectacle from the Dancer ought to be suitably pleasant. Would you like to perform as the ball’s opening?”

“It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty.”

“Is it common for Endymian princes to bring demonesses to balls?” Filip asked harshly, glaring at Agrat. 

Unfortunately, this only caused Agrat to pay closer attention to him. “Is that jealousy I sense in your heart, beneath the disgust?” she inquired, her eyes lighting up in recognition. “Ah, are you the person Her Majesty—”

“Careful, Agrat,” Remedia warned her, her tone imperious. “I would appreciate it if you kept our dealings to yourself.”

“You know each other?” Simon inquired. 

“Her Majesty summoned me in the past to question me on a matter of curses,” Agrat replied, smiling at Remedia. “I am disappointed you did not call me again afterwards. You breathe the lust of knowledge that sustains me, and I have many secrets to share.”

“I have found that the price demons extract for their knowledge outweighs any benefits.” Remedia assessed Simon warily. “I confess I am curious though. How did you bind her?”

“Even demons must tread warily when contracting Simon Magnos,” Simon replied evasively. 

“I will keep that in mind.” Remedia appeared torn between fascination and wariness at his answer. “Either way, the dances shall begin soon. Lady Shabram can take the stage, after which Norbelle and Verdis will have the first dance.” 

The ballroom’s floor emptied for Shabram’s sake. The Dancer immediately put her skills to use by beginning an elaborate Performance. Her hands and feet summoned streams of water that hung in the air as she moved, to the amazement of all. Her voice intoned a song as she twirled and swirled like a whirlpool, the streams she summoned forming draconic shapes. It was soothing, even rejuvenating, though Agrat appeared to grow ill at ease. 

Shabram’s Oceanic Ballet removed all Ailments! 

As much as he enjoyed the spectacle, Simon mostly focused on the crowd of onlookers rather than Shabram herself. Belzemine had been allowed to attend the ball with a safely branded Lorimor for a companion, though Simon ordered Meredith and Leonard to keep a close eye on them both. His elven friend acted aloof, but she had already caught the attention of a few important people. 

As he suspected, he did spot Satine and a disguised Alphonse among the crowd of nobles. It appeared that the former had been invited alongside Valnean dignitaries in spite of Filip agreeing to cut ties with the White Unicorn, or maybe the Ranger was still keeping his options open for now. Simon had only agreed to cure him after his son’s wedding, after all.

Will they be foolish enough to approach Belzemine, or challenge me to a duel like last time? Simon wondered. He didn’t think they would do anything stupid here unless he provoked them, but he wasn’t sure how events would unfold exactly. Let’s see how this goes.

“You don’t look well, Agrat,” Simon said.

“This Performance was originally used to lift demonic possessions and quell berserk spirits,” Agrat replied. “While this Dancer is too weak to banish me back to the Abyss with it, I still find it… uncomfortable.”

“I see.” Simon folded that information into a corner of his mind for future use. “Well, she’s almost done either way.”

Shabram completed her dance to thunderous applause, with Simon confirming she had gained a level out of it from his Party System. Remedia thanked her for the honor and then publicly raised a toast to her son’s engagement. Norbelle summoned a tiny version of the Phoenix to the delight of the crowd.

“To celebrate their union and the newfound era of friendship between our Queendom and the Endymian Empire, my son and his fiancée will embark on a great tour of Endymion and allied nations,” Remedia announced. While she did her best to sound regal, Simon knew her well enough to see the strain at the edge of her smile. “They will share the splendor of our united nations and build new friendships across Brimir.”

The news immediately caused quite the ruckus among the crowd. Simon suspected a lot of Cocagnian nobles and dignitaries would soon fight for a spot on the airship in the coming days. The opportunity of staying close to a future royal couple and meeting important foreign dignitaries would be worth a few bribes.

However, Simon’s amusement turned to unease when he noticed Remedia glancing at Filip. He saw the silent plea in her gaze, which her husband answered with stone-cold resolve. Remedia gave way after that, though she suppressed a sigh.

“To ensure their safety and represent our nation’s interests, my husband and King-Consort will join them on their adventure,” Remedia concluded. “May they all bring honor and glory to Cocagne.”

Simon’s head perked up right as an uproar seized the room. Only a single word came out of his lips to qualify this outcome.

“What?”