Vouivre was dead.
The news came as a shock to Simon. Yes, he had seen Euphemia overwhelm the dragon queen once before in a previous reign, but she had never been defeated so soon nor so thoroughly. Considering her habit of surviving impossible odds, he even thought it might have been a trick up until his wife teleported back to Frightwall and dropped Vouivre’s dragon head in the courtyard, the Beast Crestone proudly kept as a trophy.
The sight of the enormous golden head filled Simon with mixed feelings. On one hand, the world would be better off without Vouivre in it, especially Telluria. She had only ever brought death, destruction, and misery to everyone she encountered. Confirming that she could indeed be slain within a month of the reigns starting in the right circumstances opened up many more options to Simon.
But on the other hand, her death didn’t make Simon happy for some reason. Maybe it was because he had fought at her side not too long ago, but he didn’t rejoice over her demise in spite of all the pain she had caused him and others.
Was he… sad?
No, that was absurd! He hadn’t even befriended Vouivre like he did Casval. She was a demented warlord whose death had made the world a better place after refusing to use her considerable gifts for good. That was what he was mourning: the fact that her talents had gone to waste out of misplaced pride.
Either way, Simon finally seized the Beast Crestone and checked out its abilities. His Overlord armor changed into his usual tunic once he triggered it, but this was just an illusion. An invisible skin of mana had covered him and waited to change into a new form that fit its user.
Simon immediately noticed that the Beast suited him as well as the Adventurer. The Overlord Class within him resented having to share a host and simmered beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed again, but the Beast did not reject Simon on the spot. It called out to his talent for deception, his mutable nature, and his affinity for monsters.
The Beast: The shapeshifter of mutable form, the creature in the woods confronting the lost with trials and wisdom, the trickster that guides and misleads.
Strength S, Agility B, Vitality S, Perception S, Magic C, Intelligence C, Charisma B, Luck B.
Karmic Form (Active): Transforms the wielder into their truest form, reflecting their heart and inner nature.
Shapechange (Active): You can transform into any kind of natural creature you have touched, mimicking their type, abilities, strengths, and weaknesses. You cannot copy Class levels, supernatural abilities, gear, or extraplanar entities.
Trickster (Passive): When using a polymorphing or shapeshifting effect, divinations and similar effects identify you as your chosen form unless the caster has more levels than your Beast ones. You can learn and understand any language too, even those of animals.
Evolutionary Pressure (Passive): You can adapt to any kind of natural environment. You take no penalty from terrain or weather, and your body will adapt to survive in any environment you are in, except other planes.
Level 1 Beast Perk: Natural Fighter I (Passive): You gain medium proficiency with all natural and unarmed weapons (x1.5 damage).
All in all, it was quite an impressive Class, with no obvious weaknesses and a focus on shapeshifting. While Trickster and Evolutionary Pressure were either redundant with existing abilities or highly situational, Shapechange was incredibly powerful and Simon had seen what Karmic Form could achieve for Vouivre. It was such a pity he had no Devour Crestone slots left to consume either of them.
I wonder what Karmic Form would turn me into—Simon froze as a chill traveled down his spine. A cloud of doom and gloom had fallen over him, turning his blood to ice. What… What's this?
He couldn’t exactly put it into words. An instinct from the very depths of his soul recoiled with dread at the mere thought of using Karmic Form. He searched inside himself before he realized this sensation came from the Overlord Class itself.
Its spirit warned him not to use Karmic Form.
But… why? Would it negatively affect the Overlord Class somehow?
‘You cannot put on your human outfit here.’ Simon’s heartbeat quickened as he recalled those words from the void. If my Class treats my human self as a disguise then… what lurks beneath?
Simon decided he wasn’t willing to take the risk of trying it out if his own Class warned him against it, so he stored the Beast Crestone in his Inventory and put his Overlord armor back on. There was no point in testing it if he couldn’t devour the Perk anyway.
In any case, Vouivre was dead, her army broken, and her followers decimated. Telluria belonged to Endymion now, and while they had yet to find where Vouivre stashed the Chest of Worlds, they could seek it at their leisure. The northeast was finally secured.
However, no one on the High Council was in the mood to celebrate this victory.
“They have my daughter,” Maublanc rasped at the table, his fists shaking with rage and worry. The Chancellor had returned in a hurry to the castle with the empress upon learning of Anna’s abduction alongside Marshal Beatrice, leaving Dassein temporarily in charge of the Tellurian front. “They have my daughter.”
“Not for long,” Simon reassured him. “I am tracking down their every move. Our spies and agents abroad are already on the case–”
“This is not enough!” Maublanc slammed the table in a rare fit of anger. “I will not allow my daughter to be held by demon worshippers!”
“Watch your tongue, Chancellor,” Mastemo warned him. “I understand your grief and concern, but it does not give you the right to disrespect His Majesty. We are doing everything in our power to recover her.”
“We are not! There is an asset we can still mobilize!” Maublanc tightened his fists. “Cocagne!”
Simon immediately put two and two together. “Remedia and Norbelle can cast advanced teleportation spells, and I have a direct connection to Anna’s current location.”
“And they can transport many people at once,” Maublanc argued. “Remedia is bound by our alliance’s terms to assist us. It is time she proved those weren’t empty promises. Allow me to organize the operation, Your Majesty. I will lead our troops and recover my daughter myself.”
Maublanc was quite the fearsome force to behold when enraged. Simon wondered if he gave a similar speech after learning of what happened to Anna in Telluria during the last reign.
However, Shabram pointed out the obvious issue with the plan. “Teleporting a strike team into Lore will be seen as an act of war, especially if Your Majesty goes himself.”
“They already started one when the elves teleported into Frightwall,” Odette pointed out.
“There was no Paladin or the like among the attack force, so Illusea likely acted without Lore’s consent,” Simon noted. “But this does provide us with an excuse. Verney is a Lorean count.”
“Indeed,” Mastemo said, “Lore cannot complain about us recovering an innocent hostage taken by a disguised archdemon in their midst with the assistance of their elven allies. This might even let us create a rift in the White Unicorn.”
Simon nodded in assent before he realized one council member had been strangely silent so far. Euphemia seemed lost in her thoughts, a grim scowl on her face.
“Do you agree with this plan?” Simon asked her.
Euphemia cautiously nodded. “I have means of contacting Norbelle in emergencies. I can pass along the message.”
That took Simon by surprise. Euphemia was usually the voice of diplomacy at the table, and not one to act rashly. Did she care for Anna and Maublanc enough to go along with the plan, or did the whole situation spook her to her core?
“What of that cur, Louis?” Lady Beatrice inquired. “Shall we dispose of him before he runs off again?”
“No,” Simon decided. “As much as I distrust him, he has gathered valuable information on Verney, and our interests align when it comes to Illusea. I will grant him a respite for now.”
Maublanc quickly caught on. “It’s war with Illusea, then?”
He asked that with such eagerness too. His daughter’s kidnapping had single-handedly changed his political affiliation.
“Yes,” Simon confirmed. He had hoped for another outcome, but he would rather be on the offense than on the backfoot. The Oracle had her chance for peace and she blew it. “We will repay the elves for their treachery once we’ve finished incorporating Telluria and recovered Anna.”
Weakness invited attack, and he couldn’t let the assault on his castle slide. Moreover, he now had the perfect excuse to strike back at Illusea. Other nations could hardly take the elves’ side after they betrayed his overtures.
Still, Euphemia’s silence was starting to bother Simon. She hadn’t even argued about what to do with Louis.
The rest of the discussion moved on to their next operations, from recovering the Two-Tailed Fish from Telluria with Eole’s help to how to best use the Beast and Rogue Crestone. There was unfortunately no clear candidate for it, since its schematics had been long lost and no one in the imperial army made much use of its Vassal Classes. Simon guessed Casval could serve as his sister’s replacement once properly reformed. He was still in Dassein’s custody according to reports, and Simon hoped to visit him soon. Until then, he would forward the Crestones to Lauriane to at least extract their blueprints.
The High Council dispersed afterwards, though Euphemia finally spoke up again. “Your Excellency, could you stay with us a moment more?”
Simon frowned as only the three of them remained behind. “What’s on your mind, Euphemia?”
“I…” Euphemia cleared her throat. “I had a vision after my battle with Vouivre.”
Mastemo’s head perked up with interest. “A Visionary vision?”
“Yes,” Euphemia confirmed. She sounded quieter, almost subdued. “I haven't had such a clear and vivid one since I married Balzam.”
That was new, as far as Simon knew. If Euphemia had such a vision in a past reign, she never shared it with the High Council. He would have learned of it through Shabram otherwise.
Simon didn’t fully understand Visionary visions since he wasn’t a Light-aligned one himself. He knew Euphemia learned she was destined to inherit the Judge Class and lead the war against Gargauth through lucid trances, and that she had often glimpsed the future in her dreams, but he had enough experience with the Oracle’s paranoia to distrust them a fair bit.
“What did you see?” Simon asked.
“I…” Euphemia gulped and straightened up. “I saw the Prophetess Pharis reborn descending upon Agares in a flash of radiant light and asking me to wield the Judge Crestone in the service of the Light.”
Mastemo remained eerily quiet, while Simon frowned in disbelief. “Mardok murdered Pharis,” he pointed out the obvious. “Are you sure it wasn’t a metaphor of some kind?”
“No,” Euphemia insisted. “It was clear and vivid like never before.”
“Mardok indeed slew the Prophetess in his blasphemous fury, but wise Pharis famously promised that she would one day return to lead the faithful by the will of the Light,” Mastemo said, his voice rising with excitement. He had taken Euphemia’s words at face value. “It is no doubt a message from the highest of heavens that a golden age will soon be upon us.”
I doubt that. Simon knew from experience no prophet would come to save the world from the Zodiac Parade, though it struck him as odd that Euphemia would receive this vision in a reign when Anna ended up abducted. Pharis received a revelation from the Light Megalith, which likely seals the Maiden somehow… could it be some sort of failsafe triggering?
“This vision felt… imminent,” Euphemia admitted. “I felt I had to go to Agares as soon as possible. That I am being called there.”
“Then there is no time to waste,” Mastemo said hurriedly. “We must depart at once to witness this miracle.”
Simon didn’t share the High Confessor’s enthusiasm, but while rescuing Anna was their priority, he admitted he was curious. This was an unheard of deviation from the previous reigns as far as he could tell. Euphemia herself appeared indecisive on the matter, if not outright shaken. Returning to her lost home probably filled her with conflicting feelings.
This was all a rather strange setup either way. Helel was sealed by the Light Megalith and about to receive her ideal host, not to mention Simon’s Prayers interacted strangely with Miasmic Archmage. Could this be a trap? The Church of the Light insisted that Visionary visions couldn’t be falsified or altered, but there were too many strange occurrences at work…
Still, he had to investigate. This might provide a lead on what was truly going on with the Light Megalith and whatever divine power Verney had been after. And if the bastard dared to set a trap for him again, then he would suffer for it.
“I suppose it doesn’t hurt to check,” Simon decided.
—--
Agares was roughly half a day’s travel away from Marthrone on an airship.
Owing to having been the birthplace of a Saint, the village’s ruins had become a holy site to the Church of the Light and which pilgrims could visit. Templars had protected the site for years and left it untouched.
Mastemo was so confident in Euphemia’s vision that he proposed they make the trip on his own personal airship, bringing Beatrice and his personal guard along. Louis went along with them, largely because Euphemia didn’t trust him not to try and escape the moment she left.
Simon himself remained in contact with Shabram through her brand to remain informed of Maublanc’s plans and a certain investigation.
“All the Attic passages located inside the castle had doorknobs of more recent manufacture than the doors themselves, which suggests they were replaced at a later date,” Shabram said. “A craftsman could have replaced them during a routine interior redecoration project.”
“So that’s what happened… Valravn didn’t transform existing doors himself, he slipped us marked doorknobs.” The clever bastard. “This suggests he doesn’t need to mark an entire door for his ability to function.”
“I am currently investigating who could have installed them. We are also checking every passage Ser Hector indicated, and Lady Lauriane’s studies indicate we could craft ‘keys’ capable of opening them, but the Attic’s collapse put a damper on that project.”
“Keep looking. There’s always a chance that Valravn might recreate his Attic and reactivate existing portals.” Simon cut off the communication and focused on Euphemia, who had spent their entire ride looking through the porthole. “You look uneasy.”
Euphemia didn’t spare him a glance. “I haven’t returned home since the Reformation.”
“Home,” Simon noted. “Even after all these years, you don’t consider Frightwall your home.”
His wife scowled, but she didn’t deny it. “No, I do not.” She rested her head on her fist. “I am questioning many assumptions I took for granted.”
Like Maublanc’s affection for you? Simon knew better than to voice this out loud and instead asked, “Such as?”
“I slew Gargauth’s spawn, as I killed her father, and crushed her beastmen army underfoot as I set out to do… yet it brought me no satisfaction, no more than watching the lands I fought so hard to unify from on high.”
“Are you proud of what you have achieved?”
“It doesn’t matter. Bringing peace to Endymion is my duty.”
“A duty to whom? The gods? My father?” Simon shrugged his shoulders. “If living for others doesn’t make you happy, then you should reconsider your life choices.”
Euphemia glared at him. “Don’t you dare lecture me.”
“I’m being sincere,” Simon replied. He genuinely wanted this alliance to work and helping his new wife resolve her issues would help out greatly. “When was the last time you were truly happy, without reservations or afterthoughts?”
It should have been an easy question, but it took Euphemia a full minute to come up with an answer.
“When Norbelle was born,” she said, though that realization brought no smile to her lips. “Her pregnancy was difficult, but she and Thalas were the only good things to come out of my first marriage.”
At least she loved her kids, unlike Balzam. That alone made her the better person of the two in Simon’s mind, without even taking all of his father’s atrocities into account.
“Go on, say it.” Euphemia met his gaze with a cold frown. “Say I wasted half my life.”
“You’re only halfway through your thirties,” Simon countered. “You can look forward to many more decades, assuming we survive through the Zodiac Parade. It’s not too late for you to take another path in life.”
Euphemia remained silent a moment, her gaze softening a bit.
“What?” Simon asked.
“I never had these conversations with your father. He never let me consider an idea he didn’t have first.” Euphemia cracked a small, precious smile. “You and he differ more than I thought.”
“A kind compliment.” Simon returned her smile. “I told you I would make this union work, if that’s what you ask of me.”
“This wasn’t what I had in mind when I insisted we share damage in the marriage contract.” Euphemia’s smile faded away. “The fact that our enemies can bypass my Laws bothers me. Even I cannot break them.”
“How do they even work?” Simon inquired. “They sound rather similar to my Edicts.”
He half-expected Euphemia to keep the information to herself in case he might try to exploit a loophole, but he seemed to have earned enough of her trust for her to open up a bit. “Laws differ from contracts in that they don’t have to be agreed upon, though they have a range limit,” she explained. “I must set the condition and then the punishment. Anyone who violates the former in the area of effect immediately suffers the latter, without fail.”
“Including yourself?”
Euphemia gave him a bemused look. “It is a poor judge who is above their own laws. I can only have a set number of Laws active in a single overlapping space, but they continue to apply even if I leave their perimeter.”
“Interesting…” Simon stroked his chin. “My Edicts work in reverse. Everyone in the area is targeted by an effect, but I must include an exit clause.”
“They differ in another area too,” Euphemia pointed. “My Law’s punishment is something I can do with a Perk or a spell, like trapping someone in Stasis or smiting them, but I doubt you could destroy an entire valley on your lonesome in one attack.”
“Not in a single attack, but I could incinerate an area as large as Rust Valley if I spent days casting Hellfire.” Come to think of it, he could also cloak himself in shadows with Nightveil and darkness was among the Overlord’s strongest affinity. Maybe he could darken an area with miasma like the Edict of the Endless Night on a smaller scale?
“Summoning flames is one thing, setting the earth on fire and forcing it to vomit lava is another,” Euphemia countered. “My Laws punish transgressions, but your Edicts alter the very fabric of reality.”
“Still, I feel these similarities are worth exploring.” Simon locked eyes with his wife. “Would you mind helping me research this? I wonder if I could create more Edicts with your guidance.”
“Why not.” Euphemia glanced back through the porthole. “It’s still a few hours away from home.”