“A hole?” Simon struggled to believe the message. “You found a six-hundred foot deep hole in the desert?”
“A freshly excavated hole,” Shabram clarified. “According to the Geologists and Archeologists dispatched to the location you indicated to us earlier, early analysis indicates a large structure used to be buried there three days ago.”
Three days ago, so soon after the Attic’s collapse and Verney’s demise. Simon would bet half his empire that they had found the former location of Chrom Cruak’s tomb, or at the very least a site very important to him.
“We are yet unsure if this event was the result of teleportation or dimensional magic, though my men detected the presence of pre-Doom enchantments in the foundations.”
“And there are no witnesses?” Simon inquired.
“Unfortunately not. The site Your Majesty indicated is in the middle of the Navarran desert, far away from the nearest oasis.”
“Begin an excavation at once. Find anything you can. I want to learn what kind of structure used to be there, where it went, and how it disappeared.”
“I will begin an investigation immediately, Your Majesty.” Shabram changed the subject to another report that didn’t surprise Simon in the slightest. “Following the so-called ‘Miracle of Serras,’ I have received word that all Light Megalith Prayers have been strengthened across our empire.”
Of course the effect wouldn’t be limited to Serras’ surroundings. “Word of it has already reached your ears?”
“Our spies in Serras reported the event, although I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Lady Euphemia received a vision of the Light Megalith as well.”
Simon questioned her on the details, and to his surprise, Euphemia had received a flash of the Maiden’s imprisonment and of the Mana Goddess transforming into leaves after completing the sealing. High Confessor Mastemo had taken it as a sign that the ‘Mana Mother’ would soon fall before the supremacy of the Light, and had begun to push for more radical actions against the elves. The Serras Orthodoxy had reached the opposite conclusion and called for believers to rally against the heathens in the east.
Most importantly, it appeared Euphemia had not lost access to her Prayers, nor saw them weakened. The Light Megalith continued to bless her even without Helel’s influence.
She was indeed a true Saint.
“I assume these events are connected to Your Majesty’s quest?” Shabram guessed. “May I ask when you shall return? The deadline for the Oracle’s prophesied bombardment approaches.”
Simon remained silent. The truth was that he had no way of stopping it without Belzemine, and he feared he wouldn’t be able to recover her by then. Shabram could mitigate the damage by ordering an evacuation as she did in previous reigns, but the Overlord’s absence would be exposed to the entire country and precipitate its civil war.
If Simon couldn’t recover Belzemine in time, then he would have no choice but to return to Frightwall in order to unify his family before they could fight each other. Maybe he could justify his absence by having ‘investigated’ the bombardment and thus portray himself as a savior… though it would still force him into escalating hostilities with Illusea. The empire couldn’t stand idle while an enemy nation destroyed their seat of government in front of the entire world.
What a mess.
“I will return before the deadline… one way or another,” Simon promised his spymistress. “I have made great headway in alienating key White Unicorn members from the Oracle, including the Paladin and Adventurer, and I should be able to prevent an invasion from the western continent.”
“This is all good, Your Majesty, but I fear solving an issue abroad will do us little good if we cannot end the conflicts festering at home.”
“I’m aware. Keep me informed of any new developments until my return. The situation may change soon.”
Simon cut the telepathic connection and returned to physical reality, where the group was done setting up camp for the night near a stony pond. The moon was high, and the nearby hills silent. A huge sycamore manatree loomed in the distance over a forest clouded in mist.
The Proving Grounds had so far proved to be somewhat less dangerous than Simon expected, though the group had to fend off a handful of orcs, goblinoids, and even a giant antlion that burst out of the ground to assault them at midday. It appeared quite a few of these creatures had settled in the region by receiving the dragons’ relative protection in exchange for tribute.
None of the enemies that they faced were a match for the party, to the point Simon didn’t receive any experience from pecking out a goblin’s eyes. No dragon had yet to attack them either, though Mel was convinced an assault was inevitable. The Stalker was off on another round of scouting while Frea taught Satine a defensive, elemental-reflecting spell.
Alphonse, meanwhile, was practicing Paladin Techniques near the pond. Simon recognized some of the abilities Beatrice and her Templars used against Exodeos, like Thunderslash and Judgment Blade, alongside a few he had never encountered.
“Northstar Strike!” Alphonse swung his sword and pointed it at a boulder near the water. A crux-shaped burst of light ten feet wide erupted from the ground beneath the stone and vaporized it utterly. The sheer power and radiance of the attack illuminated the night and left a burning scar in the earth when the holy energies died out.
“What did that stone ever do to you?” Simon mused, though he was quite interested. Alphonse had used none of those Techniques in previous reigns, and his Armsmaster Perk told him he could mimic at least a few of them. That Northstar Strike would cause me quite a bit of supereffective damage if it ever hit.
The Paladin was indeed growing stronger faster with each passing reign. This did not bode well should they end up on opposing sides again.
“I’ve unfortunately run out of orcs to practice on,” Alphonse replied with the same deadpan tone. Simon had begun to notice he liked his humor dry. “So?”
“So the good news is that we found the location of Cruak’s lair. The bad news is that it’s now gone.”
Alphonse blinked. “You mean it was destroyed?”
“No, it’s just gone. Poof.”
“That is… unfortunate…” Alphonse cleared his throat. “Alcyone informed me through Party messages that they located Bert’s mansion based on your intel, and will raid it tomorrow. Mayhaps they will find more clues there.”
“Or they will find it empty,” Simon replied with cynicism. He had the distinct impression the Weavers had collectively decided to go into hiding as soon as the Attic collapsed. The rats had abandoned anything related to the sinking ship. “I’m not optimistic, but we can always hope.”
“I could use a partner to practice Bladebreaker, if you want a distraction.”
“If you so insist.” Since there were no outsiders to watch them and they were still miles away from the local manatree, Simon returned back to his human form and summoned his Overlord scepter in the form of a claymore. “Have at you, Alphonse!”
The two of them proceeded to train together, with both of them breaking each other’s Class outfit swords. It was good their weapons were channeled from their very mana rather than real items, or learning the Technique would come with a terrible price attached.
Overall, Bladebreaker worked by using a powerful slash aimed at the very middle of the enemy’s blade; it had to strike this exact point, or else the Technique would fail to work. The only real difficulty lay in the timing and hitting the right spot.
Simon eventually grew familiar enough with the Technique that he decided to experiment and switched out his sword for a morningstar when it was his turn to practice with it, and successfully shattered Alphonse’s blade all the same.
“The Technique doesn’t require a sword,” Simon noted as he studied his mace. “Any melee weapon will do so long as you strike the right spot at the right time.”
“Yes, Bladebreaker is a weapon Technique rather than strictly a sword one,” Alphonse confirmed as he restored his sword with mana. “It is so versatile that others adapted it to break axes, spears, helms, and even armor.”
Interesting. Simon wondered if he could adapt the Technique to break any melee weapon. It would be a significant time investment he would rather focus on spells instead, but at least Bladebreaker should prove helpful against the likes of Louis.
Either way, they continued practicing until Alphonse could reliably shatter Simon’s sword and then follow through with a swift strike the Overlord barely dodged. Applause echoed the martial display, and the two looked to the side to find their teammates were observing them near the pond.
Alphonse smiled at them. “Have you been watching us for a while?”
“We didn’t want to interrupt,” Mel reassured him with a wide grin. She had clearly taken some delight in watching her Paladin crush hold his own against Simon. “You’re doing great, Al.”
“Is it wise to train the Overlord, though?” Satine inquired. She hadn’t warmed up to Simon in the slightest, unlike her comrades. “He may use the skills he learns against us in the future.”
“I’m wounded by the lack of trust,” Simon admitted. “And here I was considering how we could peacefully negotiate your nation’s autonomy should I ever retake the Crimson Throne.”
“My nation’s autonomy.” Satine held his gaze. “Your words betray your true feelings on the matter. Your House invaded my homeland, and now you expect us to negotiate for a pity handout.”
“I never fought against Magvolia, and its independence will never be possible without a bloody war.” His father had seen to that when he divided the Magvolian duchies and handed a few to imperial loyalists. They would never agree to leaving the empire or surrendering their hard-won lands without a fight. “Besides, why would it be necessary? We have viceroys with near-complete autonomy. Unless you would rather bleed out your own countrymen rather than find an acceptable compromise?”
His words gave Satine pause, while Mel scratched the back of her head. “Should we truly talk about politics right now? It doesn’t feel like the right time or place.”
“It is never the right time or place for such things,” Alphonse replied calmly. “Did you find anything, Mel?”
“I caught sight of the Magefalls to the north, so we should be able to reach it by tomorrow at the earliest.” She didn’t sound all that enthusiastic about it, however. “However, the quickest path will take us through Marraco’s territory, and he’s sure to ambush us.”
“Marraco?” Simon inquired.
“A red dragon of poor character and renown,” Frea explained. Her hands held a drained manalith she had emptied of power to sustain herself. Much like Belzemine, keeping their elf teammate healthy away from a manatree’s surroundings took up a sizable chunk of the party’s budget. “I recently fought him before with a previous Paladin.”
“That happened well over twenty years ago,” Satine reminded her. “We weren’t even born then.”
“Oh?” Frea put a finger on her cheek and looked up as if trying to remember. “He must have grown bigger since then…”
“You think he will want revenge?” Alphonse asked Mel. “I thought dragons and scalefolk didn’t carry grudges.”
Mel simply pointed her thumb at Satine, and then Simon instantly understood. Oh yes, a dragon attack was indeed inevitable.
“What?” Satine frowned in incomprehension. “What is the problem with me?”
“You are a princess, Satine,” Frea said bluntly. “You are living bait for dragons. A status symbol.”
“But how could they know I am a princess?”
“They just will,” Mel insisted. “They have a strange sixth sense for such things.”
“Truthfully, I’m surprised we haven’t been attacked yet,” Simon admitted.
“Dragons are all sedentary and lazy beasts at heart,” Mel explained. “Most are content to stay inside their territory unless threatened, chased off by a rival, or truly hungry.”
Which hammered home how much Vouivre and Casval differed from their kind in their ambition and eagerness to expand their territory. Lore’s inhabitants didn’t share the Tellurian tribes’ fear at living near a dragon clan’s hunting ground.
“Avoiding Marraco’s territory would delay our trip for too long,” Frea said. “Moreover, he seized it by devouring the local lord and chasing away its original inhabitants. Slaying him would allow people to resettle the area, and I recall that he had a precious magical sword in his hoard. Alphonse could offer it to Shura as proof of our valor.”
“Or the dragon’s dracolith,” Simon pointed out, his curiosity flaring up. This could finally be his opportunity to study one up close.
The group agreed to follow this course of action and discussed battle plans. Alphonse’s formation already had a well-oiled strategy that Simon had experienced back in Magvolia a number of reigns back: the Paladin served as the frontliner, Mel was the scout and flanker, Frea blasted the opposition with powerful spells, while Satine focused on buffs and healing. Since he would have to stay in bird form so as not to arouse suspicion, Simon would only intervene with attacks that couldn’t be traced back to him. His Devious Title would ensure his targets received no notifications.
“You spoke of compromise,” Satine said once they took the first guard shift. “What did you mean by that?”
Had she reconsidered? “The nicest of my brothers, Dassein, is unwed… and so are you.”
Satine scowled in distaste. “You want to wed me into your house to legitimize your conquest?”
“Does it matter? Dassein is utterly uninterested in politics, and it would be easy to grant Magvolia a tributary state status under those circumstances. Your home could self-govern as it did prior to its conquest.”
“So long as we pay tribute and lip service to your empire.”
“It beats a bloody war you’re not sure to win, does it not?” Simon could see the hesitation written all over her face. “Endymion will never surrender Magvolia peacefully. Too many power-players are entrenched there, not to mention the Goetia Research Facility is located there as well. Sorry, but I’m not going to bring war to my home to please yours.”
“All I hear is that you are only different from your predecessor in that you would rather not fight to get your way,” Satine replied sternly. “You offer no compensation for what your empire took by force.”
“Because the Oracle’s plans will work any better?” Simon scoffed. “Did Frea tell you about the Minotaur Zodiac Fiend sealed there? Your elven sponsor left it there as a weapon that will harm both your subjects and mine.”
Satine’s face betrayed no emotion. “I hold no illusions that Illusea will always have my home's best interests at heart, but I trust them more than the very empire who invaded my home. How can I be certain you would even honor this agreement, or that your successor won’t repeal it?”
Was an Overlord’s word worth so little nowadays? “Well, if my brother does not satisfy you, you could always marry me.”
Simon was half-joking when he suggested that, but his words took Satine aback enough that she began to consider it, albeit with skepticism. “Would your nobles even allow the match?”
“A princess from a conquered land would be a relatively neutral pick as far as imperial factions are concerned, especially since it will legitimize our rule over Magvolia.” Euphemia certainly wouldn’t like the risk of a rival dynasty appearing, so it would lock Simon into an alliance with Louis or Lauriane, but he was confident he could manage a settlement. “You could become empress of all of Endymion and ensure your subjects’ interests are well-represented at court.”
“All while the White Unicorn loses its main source of supporters beyond the Dragonsea, making further attacks and revolts unlikely,” Satine pointed out sharply. “Is that how you intend to defeat all of Endymion’s enemies? By bedding and marrying them?”
An image of Vouivre kissing him briefly crossed Simon’s mind, but he successfully buried and suppressed the memory. “It would be easier than killing them, no?”
To his surprise, Satine actually smiled thinly at the quip. “I cannot argue with that.”
“I do not expect an answer now, but… think on it.” Simon sensed an opportunity and would rather not let it pass. “I’m open to any other solution you can come up with. We can talk away our issues rather than fight over them.”
Satine studied him for a very long moment, her face unreadable.
“I have the feeling you will be the worst Overlord yet,” she admitted as she turned back to observe the fire, “but I cannot tell whether that will be a good or bad thing yet.”
A/N: next chap, twists and dragons ;)