Chương 135: Vouivre Delenda Est (1)

Simon slept for two more hours before his sister woke him up.

"Put on your pants and come with me, we don't have much time," Lauriane ordered as she shook him from under his blankets, only to pause.

"Simon, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he lied, his feeble voice betraying him. He turned in his bed and blinked, his eyelids heavier than usual. There was something… something odd about his sister, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"You are not." Lauriane immediately put on her Alchemist outfit and checked on him.

"You are pale and sick."

"I just… I didn't sleep well." Which wasn't a lie. He had struggled with nausea, fatigue, and drowsiness since the reign began, and collapsed right into his bed rather than fight it.

"I had a nightmare about our father's death."

"I'm afraid it is no longer a dream." Lauriane examined him for a moment, then pulled out a medicinal concoction from her outfit's bandoliers and placed it on his bedside table.

"Take this and come with me as soon as you can walk. The entire family must gather in our father's chambers."

"I'll come soon…" Simon promised, even as his headache worsened. Lauriane clearly debated between staying at his side and leaving, before duty compelled her to exit his room. His hand reached out for the potion, and though it tasted sweet, it did little to alleviate the chills coursing through his body. Not that he expected it to work. Simon had already cast Cleanse, Megaheal, and every other spell he knew with a chance of lifting whatever sickness had taken root in him.

All of them had failed, which led him to draw a very simple conclusion. It wasn't his body that was wounded, but his soul. And why wouldn't it be? Simon had opened up a metaphorical third eye in his spirit. He needed time for his essence to adapt to the new change, even across reigns. The fact that the pain seemed to radiate from his forehead at least pointed that way. He could tell he needed a rest period of some kind to recover from the Dark Visionary ritual.

To take it easy for however long his essence required to adapt. The… the Academy, Simon decided. Those reigns were mostly peaceful at the start, and it would let him keep an eye on Anna. Make sure the Cobweb couldn't get to her, and find out why they wanted her. And… it would let me get to Vouivre.

Simon wasn't particularly keen on taking advice from Mardok the Bloodthirsty after all the horrible things the archdemon had done—least of all to Belzemine—but if there was any truth to their words that Gargauth had researched Eidolons and Dark Visionaries, then it might provide a lead towards refining his power. He still had little idea what it could do. Did Hector come back too? Simon wondered as he opened up his Inventory, only to find it utterly empty.

His helmet had probably remained stuck in a previous reign, especially since the ritual burned through two of them. Alone again… unless Asterion somehow remembered. I should visit Magvolia again when I'm feeling better. At least consuming the crystal hadn't wasted a Devour Crestone slot. Simon still had two of those left to fill. It might be a good idea to use this reign to find out which one was the worthiest of being assimilated.

With little time to waste, Simon summoned the Keeper and edited the will to put a new name forward. He disliked leaving Casval alive, but the dragon remained Simon's easiest way into Vouivre's inner circle and his new scapegoat deserved all the pain he would get. He would probably leave Belzemine behind for the time being to delay the civil war. The edited will would also include slaves as usual, to ensure a repeat of the reign where he first joined her in Telluria.

"So you don't know about the Overlord souls inside the Crimson Throne… even though you are its keeper?" Simon groaned in both annoyance and pain from his headache.

"What use are you?"

"Your Dark Majesty's predecessors mostly used me to announce their decisions and decrees to the population," the Keeper replied without emotion. Its presence felt… heavier than before, somehow, though that might have been Simon's soul sickness affecting his perception.

"Their decrees…" Simon coughed.

"Can you utter Edicts on an Overlord's behalf?"

"It is within my purview, yes. His Majesty Mardok preferred Frightwall shrouded in darkness." Interesting… Simon briefly considered having the Keeper utter an Edict here to test it out, before deciding against it for now. Everyone would be informed of the curse and its exit clause, on top of the magic extending to his secondary Dungeon and thus giving its location away. He had nothing to gain from casting the Edict of Endless Night, so it would wait for a reign when he didn't need to stay discreet.

He would just focus on harming his foes instead. Simon forced himself to walk to his father's chambers—fighting against his soul weakness along the way—and quickly noticed something wrong with many of the people present. A slight… he couldn't call it aura, not exactly, but a near-imperceptible shroud hovered over all the Magnos siblings, from Thalas to Louis and Lauriane. The same darkness seemed to surround Mastemo, Shabram, and the generals present. Could this be a Darkblood's aura? Simon wondered.

All the Magnos siblings had the potential due to their father, Mastemo was a Zodiac host, and Shabram's shifter heritage meant she had some trace of the Dark woven in her ancestry. By contrast, Simon also spotted a faint halo of light around Euphemia and Belzemine, though the latter was far brighter than the former. Was it a hint to whatever destiny Mardok deprived her of? Or a hidden ability of hers? She did empower the Mana Sword merely by touching it.

"Please tell her… That I would give everything to do it all over again." Mardok's words echoed in Simon's head, and a wave of disgust washed over him when he saw Belzemine's lifeless expression. She was Mardok's trophy, a monument to the first Overlord's cruelty. Just the fact that he knew the bastard was somehow observing them through the Crimson Throne filled him with revulsion. I've changed my mind, I'll claim her as my slave this time too, Simon thought.

We both need a break from this cursed place, and she's the empire's best healer. She should help me recover from… whatever's happening to me. I can temporarily send her back to Frightwall in a few weeks to delay the attack. Either way, it was with great pleasure that Simon watched the Keeper call the hounds on one of his most hated foes.

"I do hereby bequeath my Class, throne, and titles to my best and most wicked agent," the Keeper read to the imperial court, "Count Thomas Verney of Lore, secret master of the Cobweb, Prince of Spiders, and traitor to the White Unicorn." Silk called the Prince the Overlord of the underworld, Simon thought as the audience erupted into whispers and gasps. Let's put that boast to the test.

Simon had briefly entertained the idea of going after Silk to take her Rogue Crestone to consume whatever Perk let her slip past anti-teleportation wards, but he was so tired he doubted he could even catch her in his current state. He was better off focusing on Verney and screwing the Cobweb over by framing him.

Besides the fact that the distance meant the War and Church Party would waste valuable time investigating the lead, Patriate Malphas was in the room and he would immediately report this to the Oracle, which meant the White Unicorn would most likely investigate Verney and hopefully notice the aura of Dark he reeked of. Simon had no doubt the bastard had prepared dozens of hideouts to crawl into for such a scenario, but it would greatly impair his plots.

Investigations might even uncover his connection to the Zodiac Fiends and ensure the Paladin finally did his job against the right target. No secret conspiracy could survive scrutiny for long. Either way, it was worth the try to see how the factions adapted to this scenario. Simon paid close attention to everyone's reactions. Most whispered about the Cobweb, either because they had heard of the organization only in rumors or never knew of its existence. But Louis… Louis laughed.

It was brief, and more of a dry chuckle than actual laughter, but it was such a rare sound that many eyes turned in his direction. Simon himself had never heard it before, and he somehow found it rather unnerving.

"You find this funny, brother?" Lauriane asked him, sounding a little spooked herself. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"My apologies," Louis replied, a faint smirk on his face.

"Our father was such a petty little man."

"Count Verney?" Euphemia glared at Louis.

"Did you not kill him in Magvolia?"

"I did, Your Grace, but clearly I ought to have been more thorough. My father never forgave me for the blunder, and this must have been his way to chastise me for not correcting it." Louis pondered this information for a moment before nodding to himself.

"Shall we discuss this more in private?" Huh? Simon frowned in slight surprise as Euphemia nodded after a moment's hesitation. That was odd. Louis usually stormed out of the room to hunt down the Laurent Linconnus or Casvals of the world. Did the fact that the Class went to a Lorean noble cause them to be more suspicious? He wondered if they would come to a truce of some kind until they could learn more.

Simon would ensure Shabram knew everything about how the Attic worked and the identity of the Cobweb's Weavers, to encourage the hunt and ensure the coalition that killed him in Cocagne wouldn't materialize. Verney, being a deceitful demon whose plans and existence relied on secrecy, ought to cause everyone encountering him to disbelieve his words. This ought to be an interesting experiment. Simon spent the week prior to his departure to the Academy alternating between sleeping and brief bursts of activity.

On one hand, his current soul sickness didn't prevent him from applying Devil Brands or disrupted his Overlord Perks; on the other hand, all of his stats were weakened, even with the Class outfit on, and draining cows didn't even begin to alleviate that pervading feeling of weakness. At least it seemed to get slightly better as time went on, and a worried Lauriane gave him a full casket of remedies to recover with during his trip to Telluria. She never failed to remind Simon why she remained his favorite sibling.

His current condition also convinced her and Louis to let him claim Belzemine as his slave for treatment, though she could do little even after he privately revealed his true identity and branded her.

"A soul wound?" Belzemine frowned.

"Such injuries are rare, Your Majesty, but not unheard of. They are usually the result of prolonged demonic possession or assault by dangerous undead." Simon guessed that all the quality time he spent plummeting into the Abyss with Asterion had to come with a caveat.

"Is there any way to accelerate the recovery process?"

"Your Majesty's immunity to mind-affecting effects will interfere with my soul-healing spells," Belzemine replied, to Simon's annoyance.

"The only treatment I can advise would be rest, meditation, and memory stimulation."

"Memory stimulation?" Simon replied with a frown, until he caught on.

"Ah, I see… Memories and emotions are the fuel of the soul."

"Much like positive memories and experiences help an individual break out of depressive episodes, forming positive memories usually improves recovery rates for victims of demonic possession," Belzemine replied with a dead expression.

"I could play board games with Your Majesty, or offer you my flesh to use as you see fit." Simon suppressed a scowl of disgust as he remembered his father's 'advice.'

"We'll… we'll stick to board games." Playing some Board & Conquest helped with mental stimulation, and Simon eventually recovered enough to meet with Eole, which swiftly confirmed his suspicions when he saw the sinister aura around her; his Dark Visionary third eye let him detect potential Zodiac Fiend hosts. He told her much about the fact that the Cobweb and Vouivre knew about her people's Sanctuary, about his visions, and what could be done.

"A… a nation for shifters?" Eole bit her lip in disbelief.

"You say Vouivre would let us self-govern if I… if I used my voice and gave her the archfiend?"

"It is one of the futures I've seen, among others," Simon replied.

"I currently plan to travel to Telluria and infiltrate Vouivre's inner circle to put her down for good down the line. You are welcome to join me in this endeavor, if you wish to."

"I…" Eole gulped and considered his words for a moment, before shaking her head.

"No. No." She clenched her fists.

"I am sorry, but… I cannot use my voice against my people. Not after what we kish put them through in ancient times. I cannot repeat our sin." You can. You just haven't had the time to accept it yet. Not that her answer surprised Simon all that much. She didn't have a reign's worth of confronting her weakness and hardening her resolve to learn how to compromise. Considering the anguish it put her through, perhaps this is a blessing in disguise…

"I will not force you to cooperate," Simon replied. Especially not after what they experienced together in the previous reign.

"There may be a way to protect your Sanctuary from attack. A woman called Alcyone should have landed on one of its islands through an airship. She is both the current Adventurer and friends with a certain Necromancer of great power. She could help."

"How? If Vouivre needs a kish to open the palace's vault–""There are other ways." As in, other ways to find a kish and open those doors thanks to a certain Devil Brand.

"I will likely need to give her the archfiend crystal to ensure her defeat down the line." Eole's expression darkened.

"Which means my people will suffer."

"Yes… but less than what they will endure in other futures I have seen." Simon let out a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Eole, but I cannot foresee a perfect ending. Some people will suffer no matter what we do." Eole might be somewhat naive, but not enough to deny that harsh truth. She pondered his words for a very, very long time, her expression torn with doubt.

"I… I will return home, to my people's Sanctuary," Eole eventually decided.

"I must warn them, and meet this Alcyone." She took a deep breath, her body stirring with renewed purpose once again.

"But I will come back to free Telluria and destroy that dragon one day." Simon accepted her promise with a nod.

"I look forward to it."

"Then accept this, as part of our covenant and proof of my resolve," she said, offering him one of her feathers once more.

"Keep this with you and return it to me when my oath is fulfilled. So long as you hold it, I will find my way to you." Simon accepted the gift with solemnity. Although they had walked this dance more than once, he could tell this time was different. She hadn't given it to him in friendship, but as a promise that she would come back to free Telluria one day, whether Simon was there to help her or not. Eole then flew out of his window, back to her home.

Seeing her leave after they spent an entire reign together filled Simon with both anguish and relief. He would dirty his hands for both of them this time. For the first time in many reigns, Simon finally departed Frightwall for the Imperial Academy; something he both looked forward to and dreaded. Shabram kept him informed of the High Council's political deliberations, and to his slight surprise, naming Verney had caused the War and the Church Party to agree on…

well, he wouldn't call it a truce, not truly, but a period of cooperation when it came to investigating the Cobweb. The evidence Shabram provided on the Attic's existence and the fact that Verney was a Lorean noble formerly affiliated with the White Unicorn seemed to have caused the various factions to tighten their ranks against an outside threat rather than enter a race. In short, they reacted the way Lauriane had hoped they would when confronted with the elven conspiracy.

Simon would ensure they discovered that one too. Perhaps it would finally open a path to avoiding that pointless civil war. Otherwise, none of his other retainers showed an aura of any kind. Not Leonard, not Meredith, not even Lorimor. That last part bothered Simon a bit. His son was eligible to serve as a demon host for Asterion, so there had to be a demon somewhere in the ancestry. Why would his father lack this potential?

Simon guessed this meant young Benjamin's heritage came from his mother, Odette Kano, rather than his sire. He wasn't sure yet what to make of that information. That woman still remained an asset thanks to her authority over Whispermire—and thus the Darkwood—alongside her control over her secret manalith mine, but he hadn't considered how to cultivate her potential beyond her use as a replacement for Patriate. Simon should take some time to consider that more during this reign.

He hadn't forgotten how Asterion promised to interfere with the reigns once Abraxas empowered him, so he had Shabram send agents to monitor the region for any sign of unusual development. He might arrange a trip there later to check on the Stone Muse and Asterion. Come to think of it, now that I know how to extract the crystal and the seal along with it, I can free the Muse anytime I want, he pondered during the airship trip.

I could check whether she remains corrupted or recovers from her possession, maybe even recruit her by trading her freedom for Devil Brands. So many options had opened up to him, and Simon felt too tired to tackle even half of them. He had recovered enough that he only needed twelve hours of sleep a day rather than eighteen, but even those moments gave him little rest. He kept having dreams similar to the ones of his father's death, except these were jumbled and formless.

Simon had nightmares of screaming faces and burning hellfire, of dark voids consuming all lights in the sky, of drowning in his father's blood, yet he could only remember vague details of each of them. Justine had warned him Dark Visionary dreams would focus on violence, and that was true; a pity it was all senseless. Maybe he should have gone to the Eligos instead. She was the second-highest authority on the subject, and more available than a dead Overlord's library.

For now, Simon settled on visiting Duchar's house on arrival, taking the opportunity to reveal his identity to his retainers as the Overlord and branding them as he had done so many times before. The dark aura around Cassandra was particularly potent, likely because she was half-demon rather than a distant descendant of one. Her father, by contrast, didn't really have the gift in spite of his experience with the dark arts.

Simon also asked Duchar if he had any insight to provide about his condition, but his advice was more or less the same as Belzemine's.

"I have found through experimentation that the emotion of 'joy' stimulates the soul more than anger and sorrow, so my advice to Your Majesty will hold in two words: have fun," Duchar replied with such a neutral tone that Simon found the contrast between it and his words almost comical.

"The academy ought to serve that purpose well enough," Leonard commented with a smile.

"My sister and Lady Anna will be attending this year." That's what bothers me, Simon thought as he nodded slightly. He couldn't exactly avoid them forever.

"I will keep that in mind," he said before turning to Lorimor.

"I have a task for you." The man immediately fell to his knees, which neatly reminded Simon why he had mostly disdained his company in recent reigns.

"My life is yours to dispose of as you see fit, oh Lord of Dark."

"Then I require your service as a Scholar." Mostly because I can no longer use that Class myself.

"You are to investigate and find me a creature in Telluria that has both the Humanoid and Avian typing combination usually reserved for the kish. It doesn't matter if it is a shifter or monster, but I must capture a living specimen." Eole had taught him the song used to open the path to the Two-Tailed Fish, but it required a kish singer to open.

Simon's Brand of Envy should allow the wielder to turn into one so long as they possessed that particular typing combination, so it was imperative that they find a candidate within the month.

"As for you, Duchar, I will ask a question of you." Simon gathered as much miasma in his hand as his current sickness would allow, darkness swirling around his fingers.

"What Tier VI spells can you teach me?"