Simon finally realized why Balzam had been so fond of Gourmand.
His father didn’t just use the jester to extract information from his enemies; he also served as a living repository and instructor. The demon had consumed the souls of countless warriors, magicians, and other would-be heroes who had the misfortune of daring to resist Endymion’s conquest of the eastern continent. He knew the Ninja’s Kawarimi among multiple other Techniques, various spells that reached as high as Tier VIII—though he couldn’t cast most of them himself—and other tricks.
“Bloody Razor is a blade Technique that always inflicts the Bleed and Terror ailments on the victim from multiple, deep cuts,” Gourmand explained, demonstrating the Technique with a wild flurry of scythe moves as graceful as they were deadly. Never had butchering meat looked so artistic. “An inheritance from Marthrone’s most notorious and prolific murderer! It was meant to work with small blades for intimate encounters, but what is a sword other than a fancy butcher’s knife?”
“Do you know any morning star Techniques?” Simon asked. “Blades are well and good, but I’m fond of maces.”
“Alas, the good Gourmand hasn’t learned many of those, but he knows where to find them! Fablan’s Makai region is full of ogres and weapon lovers!” Gourmand put his hand on his chest. “One afternoon’s all-you-can-eat buffet, and I can teach you all the ways to bash in someone’s head!”
Gourmand opened up a new avenue of gaining power that Simon hadn’t considered: killing a potential teacher, harvesting their soul gem, and then feeding it to the demon so that he could teach him their secrets. The idea disturbed him a bit in its ruthlessness, but he couldn’t deny the potential. Alternatively, Gourmand’s ability to harvest memories from Crestones meant he could simply feed him those in the hopes he could recover past wielders’ skills.
The only real issue was that there was a difference between intellectually understanding something and mastering it. Gourmand was no perfect copycat. While he could absorb stolen memories, he lacked the stats, spellcasting prowess, and physical training required to fully emulate his victims’ skills. He would always be an inferior tutor compared to the original ‘donor.’
“But the good Gourmand can teach His Majesty the Underworld Hammer Technique,” Gourmand boasted. “It was invented by the largest ogre to ever live, who struck the ground so hard with his mighty club that it opened a fire pit into the earth.”
“That would suit me well,” Simon replied. Come to think of it, he hadn’t yet tested out his new size-altering Perk. Maybe the two could mesh well together… “The Tier VI Soul Bite spell of yours interests me too, since I could create a miasmic Mind-aligned version of it.”
The jester chuckled darkly. “The good Gourmand is useful, is he not?”
“Yes… you are,” Simon conceded. Not enough for him to forget the jester’s consumption of his mother’s soul, but Simon leaned towards letting him atone through service… for now. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Simon spent the next few days after that alternating between High Council meetings, following reports of the Tellurian conflict and other matters, and nightly training. Gourmand’s Soul Bite was a mana spell that involved attacking the target’s soul to inflict spiritual damage, but Simon started adapting it into a miasmic, Mind-aligned variant he hoped could eventually replicate Gourmand’s memory-theft ability.
As for the Siege of Beleth, it went swimmingly.
Teleporting strike teams relieved the siege of Beleth’s defenders to help them last until Euphemia’s forces arrived, at which point things went as Simon expected them to. Vouivre’s troops fought well, with the dragon queen downing a few airships, but they couldn’t match the overwhelming firepower arrayed against them. Euphemia apparently crushed Vouivre so severely that she had to teleport away to avoid being killed on the spot, and her demoralized followers were soundly routed. The city returned back into Endymian hands, and Dassein even managed to capture Casval during the fighting. The dragon was now in the Rider’s custody.
Simon also discovered that Party System automatically notified him when one of its members gained a level after Thalas killed his way to level 67. Good thing to know.
According to the reports, it would seem that Vouivre hadn’t actually unified Telluria’s shifter tribes. She had plenty of slaves and scalefolk, but her army was a fraction of what she and Simon mustered against Beleth in a previous reign. This begged the question of how she unlocked the Beast Crestone. Was there a loophole in the prophecy that allowed for a quicker and easier fulfillment of it? Curses and Judge Laws were all about wordplay, so the Oracle’s spells might follow the same conditions.
But then, who informed Vouivre of it? She couldn’t reach that conclusion on her own. The Oracle was the obvious suspect, having created the prophecy in the first place and having a vested interest in sabotaging Endymion, but Simon had no evidence to support it. Moreover, their agents indicated they were extremely well-equipped with potent magical weapons, armor, and Vassal Crestones.
Euphemia informed him that she intended to give pursuit right after she restored Beleth’s logistical capacities in order to prepare their armies for incursions deep into Vouivre’s territory, which shouldn’t take all that long. All in all, the dragon queen had lost this round and should find herself on the backfoot for the rest of the campaign. Everything was going well so far, and that rang alarm bells.
Simon was never that lucky.
—------------
It was the thirtieth of Nivose, and the night the Oracle was supposed to destroy Frightwall.
The High Council had shrunk quite a bit with most of its key members deployed far away, leaving Simon to hold court with Shabram, Mastemo, Odette, and Belzemine. The atmosphere was a lot quieter and more cordial without so many members of feuding factions attending it. Simon might almost get used to it.
“Her Grace informs us that she intends to push eastward towards the Kish Palace,” Mastemo said. “She will bombard it, then have young Eole open the gate to immediately secure the crystal.”
“Vouivre will run again if she feels she cannot win, but she will likely fight rather than let us take the crystal without resistance,” Simon observed. “This will give us an opportunity to crush her and her army’s remnants.”
“Is it wise to send the kish there?” Odette asked. “I have seen what a demon did to my husband. It will trick her into freeing it.”
“That possibility has already been taken into account, and Beatrice dispatched her best templars to keep an eye on young Eole,” Mastemo replied. “Her Grace’s message says she has been most helpful as a translator with the beastmen tribes so far. I pray obtaining the Two-Tailed Fish will soon let us cure them of their affliction.”
Simon didn’t miss the scowl on Shabram’s face when the High Confessor uttered those words, but she was too much of a professional to comment on it. “Otherwise, House Malphas is currently securely held in the western wing,” she said. “We confiscated their Crestones and they have been model guests so far.”
“Shouldn’t we evacuate the castle?” Odette asked. “The deadline is upon us.”
“The Oracle will not try to cast the spell so long as we hold Firewand,” Simon reassured her. “Evacuating the castle now would make us look weak and inform Illusea that we fear them.”
“Your Majesty is wise to stay,” Mastemo commented. “An emperor who runs is quick to lose his throne.”
“I would still feel safer if we could confirm we found all the Cobweb’s backdoors,” Odette admitted. “I know what the Prince of Spiders does to operatives who leave his web. I am in no hurry to join them in some pervert’s dungeon.”
If she’s more afraid of the Rogue than of me, then I might have a public image issue, Simon thought. Even if her brands compelled her loyalty, she should still dread him for what he was and could do. Still, she’s right. The enemy will make a move soon.
He had smelled a trap as soon as Vouivre started causing trouble in the east. The obvious thing for the Overlord to do would be to take the bait and go after her, leaving Frightwall and overstretching the empire’s supply lines. The timing would fit if the Oracle still intended to recover Belzemine and bombard the castle. The close proximity to Louis’ escape was also cause for concern.
Could they all be working together, or at least collaborating? The Oracle had been willing to leave Zodiac Fiend crystals in imperial territory as bombs set to explode during the Parade, but she never provided active assistance to Verney’s faction at any point. Did she hate the Overlord enough to do so, in spite of a historical chance at reconciliation?
If so, then Her Omniscience would have eternity to regret her shortsightedness.
The session concluded with Mastemo and Odette returning to their quarters. Simon closed his eyes and did a telepathic round of checkups of his thralls spread across the continent, from his troops in Telluria, to the demons he sent to escort Lauriane, and his retainers keeping watch over Anna.
“How are things on your end, Leonard?” Simon inquired through the Brand of Sloth.
“Perfectly fine, Your Majesty. Lady Anna is spending a splendid evening with my sister, Meredith, Cassandra, and her brother Hector.” Simon had moved Anna and the Honorius family to one of Shabram’s safehouse estates, since Frightwall’s doors could be Attic-compromised. “May I ask why he refuses to take off his helmet?”
“You wouldn’t like what you see beneath. Inform me if anything happens, and keep running the shapeshifter identification test every hour.” Simon opened his eyes and returned to reality. “My branded subjects in Beleth tell me that Aegio seems to be enjoying his new squiring duties, Shabram.”
“He is. Prince Dassein awed him very much, and he spent most of his latest letter praising his new mentor.” Shabram chuckled to herself. “Especially his work ethic. It is rare for a general to work so late at night with his officers… especially the shifters among them.”
Simon smiled at the not-so-subtle allusion. “My brother is an open-minded man.”
“Unlike a certain High Confessor.” It was quite rare for Shabram to express her opinion so openly. “Will Your Majesty go through with his plan?”
“No, not unless there are shifters who wish to take his elixir of their own free-will.” A chill traveled down Simon’s spine all of a sudden. He sensed a presence in the room, almost imperceptible. A presence he hadn’t sensed since… Clear Eyes.
He silently activated the spell, which let him pierce through Tier V illusions and below, and immediately confirmed his suspicions. A chill traveled down his spine.
She was there, in the room.
“Your Majesty?” Shabram asked with a slight frown.
“Clear the room, and shut the door on your way out,” he ordered her and Belzemine out loud, before telepathically broadcasting a message to her and his closest allies. “Go reinforce Anna’s group and execute Operation Closed Door.”
They had bugs to squash.
Belzemine and Shabram exchanged a quiet glance, then silently followed the order. The door clicked behind them, perhaps because it had been transformed to allow for enemy reinforcements to step through it. It didn’t matter either way.
Silk lunged at him from the shadows while still invisible, her blade aiming straight for his throat.
Quickdraw.
Summoning the sheathed Balefire, Simon triggered his Technique and rushed at her. The Rogue was as fast as the wind, but his lumbering body moved like lightning, and his strength surpassed that of golems. When their swords clashed, Simon’s sheer power threw her across the room and then through the window into the courtyard outside. The blow dispelled her invisibility, revealing her Rogue outfit.
However, a notification quickly soured his mood.
The Rogue stole your Warrior Crestone!
What?! Simon immediately checked his Inventory to find it gone. That sneaky thief’s Perks can access stored items?!
The enraged Simon quickly shattered the High Council room’s door with Chaos Wave to cut off Silk’s escape route and potential reinforcements, then jumped into the courtyard after his foe. His iron feet stomped the earth on impact like a meteor. His mind was set on murder.
He had trained so many times in this place, surrounded by the castle’s dizzying towers, the great double doors leading to its various wings, and the gallows where his father delighted in publicly executing prisoners. Silk had landed on the latter and found herself surrounded by armored guards and gargoyles, while undead archers on the walls pointed at her with their bows.
Silk proved quicker than any of them and raised a teleportation gem in an attempt to escape, only for the item to shatter in her hand, much to her shock. All her feeble escape attempt did was cause a strident noise to echo out from the courtyard, alerting everyone to her presence.
“We have Laws against teleportation gems in the castle, Prince of Vermin,” Simon warned her, his eyes burning with hellfire. He had expected a hit-and-run and prepared accordingly. “Challenging me on my own turf was the mistake of your life, Silk. There is no escape.”
“Fighting me would be foolish,” Silk said, once again trying to betray her way out of a doomed fight. “I’m just a distraction.”
“Ah, but I’m sure your Weaver friends will be quite surprised when they find our elites waiting for them at the Paimon residence,” Simon replied. He had been looking forward to the day he could exterminate this infestation. “Your plot to lure me away from Marthrone by propping up Vouivre was painfully transparent. Verney will have quite the fight on his hands.”
Silk scoffed. “So will you.”
He sensed the doors opening.
While annoying, the fact Silk infiltrated Frightwall without triggering his Lord of the Demon Castle Perk didn’t surprise Simon all that much. The Rogue could likely slip past any security measure undetected.
The intrusions he detected were nowhere near as subtle. He sensed intruders pouring into the castle through two entrances, one in the guest wing where House Malphas was located, and another in the inner keep near Belzemine and Shabram. Telepathic warnings came from Shabram and House Malphas’ keepers; all reporting the same thing.
“Your Majesty, we are under attack–”
All the pieces fell into place as Simon glanced at the weapon Silk tried to skewer him with.
A replica of the Mana Sword itself.
“--by elves!”
“Yes,” Silk said, “they hate you that much.”
Illusea would rather ally with the Cobweb against him rather give peace a chance.
Madness, pure madness. Simon’s heart swelled with anger and disappointment, his rage further inflamed when Leonard informed him someone was trying to break into the safehouse. He expected Verney to be leading that part of the assault. Doesn’t the Oracle realize who she has allied with? Would she go that far?
“Vouivre is likely attacking your trophy wife at this point, or the White Unicorn, or whatever patsy Illusea sent to cut you off from reinforcements,” Silk taunted him. “So what is it gonna be, Overlord? You can’t be everywhere at once. Are you going to go save the Paimon girl, or keep your pet elf hostage?”
The trap was plain and simple, as were the various factions’ plans. Verney no doubt hoped he would go after Belzemine to secure her and prevent Frightwall’s bombardment; the Oracle hoped he would go after the Cobweb to prevent them from grabbing Anna and using her for whatever Maiden-related purpose they had in mind; and Silk no doubt thought she could abscond with her stolen Crestone while getting rid of her rivals.
But there was an option none of those fools had considered.
“You all die,” Simon said, his voice colder than the abyssal void.
Silk’s eyes widened slightly, a dash of fear finally coursing through her as she realized he had made up his mind, and that things would not go to plan.
“You don’t get to escape this time, Silk. This time, you die. I will slaughter each and every last one of you.” He materialized the Crown of Pain over his head, to ensure the maximum number of casualties. “Lord of the Demon Castle!”
Frightwall shuddered at his command, its layout rearranging itself into a twisted, jumbled form. All rooms with windows and doors moved to form a ring around the courtyard to ensure most people inside the castle could see him; to ensure that his aura would slay and reanimate all those who weren’t protected.
“Darkbound.”
Simon called upon the powers of Hell, and let it flow through him.
He roared as the might of the Abyss imbued him with a torrent of miasma, filling his limbs with so much power that they began to stretch. His flesh and bones became shadows swirling in an ever-expanding armored shell. He grew, and grew, and grew taller than his castle’s towers, his shadow cast over the courtyard. Silk and his men shrank around him, becoming like children and then smaller still. The Prince of Spiders looked up in fear, for it dawned upon her that for all of her bravado, she was no more than a cockroach in an Overlord’s eyes. His malicious aura erupted from him in waves of death and ill intent, his crown a fiery cloud in the sky.
His foot fell on Silk with the weight of a falling mountain.