His foot crushed the courtyard’s gallows with a thunderous impact.
The blow sent a cloud of dust and splinters flying in all directions, alongside unlucky guards who had the misfortune of not running away fast enough. Silk herself managed to run for her life with immense speed, though Simon could smell her fear from above. The thought of fighting him never even entered her mind, and rightfully so. Simon had grown taller than even Vouivre in her true draconic form, becoming akin to a living castle which had uprooted itself and decided to go for a walk. His own equipment had grown to match his titanic frame, at least so long as he remained in contact with his gear.
Silk’s false Mana Sword looked no more threatening than a toothpick in her hands.
Lord of the Demon Castle’s stat boost sustained Simon, and he could tell he might be able to keep his transformation going for some time so long as he remained within Frightwall’s confines. His malicious Dreadful Aura instantly snuffed out hundreds of lives in seconds; mostly intruders lacking protection against Instadeath or not strong enough to withstand his terrifying presence.
Simon immediately activated Frightwall’s Phantasmal Curse, suppressed all Prayer and teleportation effects—he was sure Mastemo could power through it—and then immediately used Deathmastery to ensure the dead would rise to fight for him with a single, simple order on their mind.
“Kill!” Simon mentally ordered his thralls as he lumbered after Silk across the courtyard. The Rogue had summoned her Crab grimoire to her freehand while he raised his sword for the kill. “Kill anyone who doesn’t serve me!”
His demonic castle shuddered like a crocodile roused from its slumber. Its stones began to radiate an overwhelming sense of dread and hopelessness into the air. Screaming faces and visages of walled saints grew out of the walls to shed tears of blood and howl in despair. Specters and demons rejoiced at the coming slaughter.
Leaving his minions to clean the castle of its filth, Simon brought down Balefire onto Silk. On its own, the greatsword burned with hellfire, inflicted additional Physical damage, and slowly healed its wielder’s wounds; now it had become a fiery bridge of metal whose swing was like a bolt of thunder. He cleaved the air and surrounding fortifications, then split the courtyard asunder in his fury. Most of it collapsed into the basement below, dragging a handful of soldiers too close to the point of impact into Frightwall’s depths.
Yet Silk did not die.
However fast she was, she couldn’t escape Simon’s reach. She had instead summoned Lotan the Isolator, the Crab Zodiac Fiend, who manifested between her and Simon’s Balefire. He stopped the latter cold.
There was no barrier, or at least none Simon could pierce. His sword simply couldn’t cross the foot-long space separating its edge and Lotan’s insectoid visage. The effect immediately reminded Simon of his wife’s Restraining Order.
Thankfully, Simon had access to spells that didn’t require contact. “Ruin.”
His curse surged from the depths of his soul and seized Silk with all of his malice. The Rogue had come prepared, but there were cracks in her protections still. Her eyes went white and black spots appeared over her skin as a virulent disease took hold of her flesh. She lost her balance and cut herself on her own sword, the wound on her arm bleeding profusely from Simon’s Crown of Pain.
“Disable his magic!” Silk ordered Lotan.
The Zodiac Fiend retaliated by staring at Simon with ill-intent. He immediately sensed an invisible weight fall on him through the monster’s alien gaze; a crushing sense of being alone in the world.
Lotan’s Crushing Loneliness has cut you off from all others!
And it did cut him off from everyone.
His brands’ telepathic whispers grew silent, the flow of mana he stole from them came to a screeching halt, and his contract with Euphemia was temporarily suppressed. The connections weren’t gone or broken, but muffled and unavailable.
He had no time to punish the fiend, as shining bolts and arrows of light struck him in the face. They were small compared to his titanic size, but they hurt like wasp stings and left him reeling in pain.
Light damage! Mythic damage!
Simon turned his baleful glare on his opponents atop the walls: a group of elven soldiers clad in Archer and Sniper Vassal Classes of the Ranger, Sages, along with a handful of winged, silver and gold golems. Most of them were busy fighting Simon’s minions, but a few had managed to regroup to strike at him directly.
He simply glared at those insects.
“Hellfire Gaze.”
His eyes glowed like two baleful stars in the night and issued forth beams of malicious flames. His colossal size turned them into an inferno that melted glass and stone, pulverized fortifications, and incinerated the elves in an instant. Their souls were left naked before his lidless gaze and reduced to black gemstones atop piles of ashes… for about a second before they mysteriously disappeared in flashes of light. An anti-capture measure perhaps?
The display of power left Simon exhausted. He feared growing to colossal size would weaken his magic, but he realized he had the opposite problem: the miasma cost of his spells and abilities automatically scaled with his size, so something as mundane as Hellfire Gaze now demanded over twenty times its usual energy cost since it covered a much wider area.
The golems resisted his fiery glare, having no doubt been designed to withstand it. Designed in the image of winged silvery elves clad in golden armor, they flew at him in a small swarm of five. He swatted two aside in a swing that also sliced one of his towers in half, but the rest stung him in multiple places with their blades. Though they were small, they cut through his armor like butter and drew smoking blood.
Supereffective damage. Anti-Heal, Sap, Slow!
The surprise wasn’t the ailments affecting him, but the fact that they didn’t transfer through Lovestuck. Lotan’s power could affect even Overlord Titles. Worse, Simon sensed some of his brand connections shattering with the loss of their holders. He had to finish this quickly.
Thankfully, he could still bark orders.
“Dispose of these annoyances and leave the Rogue to me!” Simon ordered his soldiers as he focused back on Silk and Lotan. His demons tackled the golems at his command while undead archers supported them.
To his surprise, he found Velvet had appeared next to her sister, having apparently stepped out of her shadow. She whispered words to Silk while pouring a potion down her throat that lifted the Blind and Disease ailments off her, though it failed to heal her wounds or stop the bleeding. Could one sister summon the other at will?
Realizing that his colossal size would do him no good if he couldn’t reach those two by getting past Lotan, Simon cancelled his transformation and swiftly shrank back to his normal height. He put on his Strength for Speed Ring, cast Moonlight Mirage to hasten himself—cancelling the Slow ailment while he was at it—then used Darkflight to circle around his foe. He bombarded them with quick Hellthunder bolts in an attempt to gauge the range of Lotan’s protection.
The Sap ailment slowly drained the target of mana, and Simon was no exception. His training with Norbelle had improved his miasma control enough that he was confident he could last for some time, but he wasn’t looking forward to a battle of attrition. Analyzing the trajectory of the bolts confirmed Lotan’s protection extended a few feet away from him in a circular radius, and him alone.
Silk was within range, but her sister was a step out of the radius.
Exploiting the opportunity, Simon flew straight at her and fire at them with Hellfire Gaze. Velvet, being a swift Assassin, dodged by leaping aside. Simon anticipated it and extended his hand with Devil’s Arm.
He grabbed her by the shoulder, his claws sinking into her flesh.
“Go to Hell,” Simon said, and she did.
His Crown of Pain flared with hatred and tore a rift into a demiplane of terror right beneath Velvet. The ground collapsed into a gnarly maw whose gullet was covered in razor-sharp blades drooling with acid. Chain-tongues sprung from its fiery insides, grabbed Velvet by her ankles, and dragged her screaming into the depths.
The maw closed as if it had never been there.
Silk, who had recovered her sight, turned pale from horror. She rose to her feet with a rare hint of murderous anger in her gaze, her Mana Sword copy in one hand and her grimoire in the other.
“Release my sister,” Silk hissed at him while Lotan threateningly loomed behind her. Her arm continued to bleed from her earlier wound.
“Only if you take her place,” Simon taunted her as he attempted to summon a pet of his own to even the odds. “When silence offers no respite, death’s trumpets shall herald your end! Sing my praise, Cul–”
Silk struck him before he could finish his sentence.
With any thought of escape snuffed out of her mind now that he held her sister, she lunged at Simon with speed rivaling that of the Quickdraw Technique. Simon had trained enough with Lauriane to block the sword strike with a parry of his own and completed his incantation… only for a disappointing message to show up.
Lotan’s Crushing Loneliness cancelled your summoning!
Moreover, Silk used the clash to strip him of his cursebuffs like she did during their last encounter, but this cost her: her movements slowed down as she absorbed the negative effects she wasn’t immune to, allowing Simon to bring his sword upon her. She somehow managed to merge with his shadow before his sword could cut her down.
Simon sensed her presence behind him, followed by the pain of a sword striking his back.
Supereffective damage reduced by the Betrayed Title.
Simon swirled and attempted to cut her down, but Silk deftly lowered herself to dodge the strike and breathed a cloud of noxious poison in his face.
Corrosion damage! Poison ailment negated by Unyielding Essence!
Exploiting the cover her poisonous cloud provided, Silk tossed the fake Mana Sword aside to free one of her hands and then used her Rogue ability to steal Balefire. She magically disarmed Simon and the greatsword appeared in her palm as she lunged forward for another attack. She might have struck him had her blood loss, wounded arm, and debuffs not slowed her down.
It cost her dearly.
Having already danced with the likes of Renal and Bert before, who had a similar fighting style, Simon quickly acted by blasting her with Mindflayer. The psychic attack threw Silk off him for a second, which he exploited by using Devil’s Arm to grab her by the throat.
“Lot–” Silk tried to bark an order to her bound demon, but Simon squeezed her throat before she could form his name. He then slammed her onto the ground so hard she dropped both her book and Balefire. Blood poured out of her head and throat from the sheer impact.
Simon glanced at Lotan, expecting the Crab to act in defense of its mistress, yet it did no such thing.
The monster just stared at the two fighters with equal contempt.
“The book compels you to obey the orders of whoever carries it, but only so long as they can touch it,” Simon guessed as he switched his Strength for Speed Ring for his soul-protecting one to regain his might. No wonder Silk never let the book out of her grasp. “You have no loyalty to your captors or Valravn.”
Lotan’s hateful silence was an answer in itself. This fiend loathed all of his siblings equally.
Compelled loyalty was always such a fickle and fragile thing.
This suited Simon just fine, and he began to strangle Silk to death. She attempted to teleport away and reach out for the grimoire–it seemed she couldn’t teleport it to her hand, likely because a Rogue could only steal somebody else’s stuff–but Simon pulled her away and crushed her windpipe. She produced a dagger and stabbed him in the arm in an attempt to free herself, but Simon’s delight was quite effective at dulling the pain.
“You are no Overlord of the criminal world, Prince of Nothing.” Simon’s other hand grabbed the upper part of her skull, and he smiled upon seeing the look of fear in the Rogue’s eyes. “You’re just a spider who avoided the boot for too long.”
He tore Silk’s head off her shoulders with his bare hands.
Her sweet blood splattered him whole and painted his black armor red. The delight he felt at finally, finally killing the traitor was almost matched by the rush of pleasure of not one, but two new level-ups.
Level 70 Overlord Level: Miasmic Archmage VII (Passive): You can learn and cast spells up to Tier VII, but only those fueled by miasma.
Level 71 Overlord Level: Warmonger VIII (Passive): You gain Perfect Proficiency with all weapons (x3 damage, 30% Crit).
Lotan began to disintegrate back into miasma with the death of his master and returned to his crystal, putting an end to the fight. However, Simon’s joy turned to annoyance when a new message popped up.
Deathmastery negated by the Rogue’s Sealed Lips Perk.
Simon growled as he realized no soul gem dropped from Silk’s corpse, though he did spot three other very valuable treasures: the Warrior Crestone rolling out of her pocket and towards the castle; the Rogue Crestone; and Lotan’s grimoire. He quickly stored the first two in his Inventory, grabbed the book since he couldn’t do the same with a Zodiac Fiend crystal, and quickly reconnected with his allies.
“What’s going on?” Simon telepathically asked his thralls. Lotan’s disappearance had restored his brand connections. “Report!”
A cacophony of answers came up, warning him of dead elves in the corridors and fires in the guest wing, but it was the silence from Leonard, Meredith, Cassandra, and Hector that bothered him the most; though Shabram’s message left him stone cold.
“We are fine, Your Majesty,” his spymistress replied. “Lady Odette and the prince saved us.”
The princ–
Simon immediately used Lord of the Demon Castle to teleport to Belzemine and Shabram’s side atop an eastern betterment’s parapet. He found them both wearing their Class outfits and surrounded by undead corpses, with Belzemine clearly shaken from having to kill her own countrymen. Odette stood alongside the eidolon Xenophon, whom she had no doubt summoned to protect herself.
However, there was another figure present, tall and regal; a dark knight clad in the black armor of the Hellblade and wielding a longsword wreathed in black flames. A helmet’s visor covered the upper half of his face, but the confident smile on his lips and red hair flowing on his shoulder made his identity clear.
“Hello, brother,” Louis said while holding a severed elf’s head in his free hand. His current Class outfit did not suit him as well as the Warrior's did, but it did not diminish the aura of menace radiating from him. “I figured you were in need of assistance.”
Simon tensed up and raised Balefire at him. On one hand, Louis shouldn’t be as dangerous with a stolen Hellblade Crestone as he would be with the Warrior, but on the other hand, he was still Louis Magnos.
“What are you doing here, Louis?” Simon asked threateningly. “Did Verney send you to parlay?”
Louis laughed at the suggestion. “Yes, the fool gave me a whole speech about merging with some demon to become a god of war, as if I needed any help for that.” He shrugged his shoulders dismissively. “Did you really expect me to fight with the rabble against House Magnos, Simon? I told you I would not betray you, and I am a man of my word.”
“Why?” Simon asked in disbelief. “Why escape house arrest to ally with the Cobweb, and then betray them for us?”
“You told me I shouldn’t be predictable, and I took your advice to heart. Besides…” Louis glanced at the undead elves as if they were mere animals. “I told you it was only a matter of time before you reached the same conclusion Lauriane and I reached long ago. You know what this attack means for us, yes?”
Yes, Simon admitted, to his utter frustration and disappointment. Yes, I do.
“His Highness did save us,” Shabram admitted. “The elves might have defeated us and abducted Lady Firewand without his assistance.”
“We can continue this conversation later, Simon,” Louis suggested. “Although he didn’t tell me what he was planning, I am certain Verney is still afoot somewhere in the city.”
He was right, the bastard. Although Simon didn’t trust him in the slightest, Leonard’s silence did not bode well for Anna’s current situation. He glanced at the severed elf’s head, hesitated a moment, and then gave in.
“You try anything, I’ll kill you,” Simon warned Louis as he summoned teleportation gems from his Inventory, cancelled his castle’s anti-teleportation effect, and moved the group to Anna’s safehouse.
They found only carnage.
Simon had assigned an elite bodyguard unit to Anna’s protection alongside a handful of templars. All of them were at level forty at the bare minimum and trained to deal with assassins.
It hadn’t been enough.
So much blood had been shed and so many body parts split apart that the safehouse resembled a slaughterhouse’s killing floor. Meredith, Leonard, and all the elite guards were dead and torn apart, alongside dozens of Cobweb Fang assassins and the smoking remains of summoned demons. Simon’s stomach turned when he spotted Tiella’s gutted body among the remains, and a headless mess whose brain-stained robes were obviously Duchar’s. The whole room reeked of bestial savagery.
He also noticed Renal’s head chopped off his shoulders near Hector’s remains. The Executioner was surrounded by corpses and piles of snow that probably used to be fetches, his body desiccated but his soulbound helmet was thankfully intact. They had a ‘living’ witness to the attack.
“Mummy’s rot,” Belzemine said upon examining Hector’s husk.
Crom Cruak’s doing, Simon realized as he observed the scene, a terrible feeling sinking in his gut when he noticed one was missing. Cassandra should be here too, but I don’t see her.
He opened the Party System screen and immediately checked a certain entry.
Anna Paimon
Level 39 Lord
Human
Current Location: Attic.
Fuck.