Chương 48: The Stone Muse (8)

Today was the deadline. Simon had spent the last week following his meeting with Kano and the Stone Muse focusing on his crafting while his spellcasters and other allies completed their own tasks. Duchar continued to study the seal, while Belzemine completed the astral calculations to guess the upcoming comet's trajectory.

Lorimor had become more or less useless since their return, with him spending his time alternating between flagellating himself and praying to his muse for forgiveness that she refused to grant, likely because she intended to keep him as a sacrifice for her ritual. Simon had hoped time and productive work would have improved his disposition, but the man would rather wallow in self-pity. Meanwhile, Meredith and Leonard had been sent back to Telluria to keep an eye on a certain Elaine Malphas and Louis.

They reported that the crown-prince had crushed the Redhand tribe thanks to intel provided by Shabram, and though Vouivre herself had managed to elude him, Louis and Dassein had utterly crushed the troops she had intended to use to besiege Beleth with. The dragon's decision to flee rather than confront Simon's half-brothers had proved a crippling blow to her burgeoning campaign to subjugate the beastmen. Many tribes hostile to her apparently supported the princes in their hunt.

In short, Vouivre's ambitions had come to an abrupt end, and her days were numbered. That, at least, was good news. Elaine had apparently asked a lot of questions about Simon's whereabouts, much like Anna was also doing. Simon had ordered his retainers to stonewall their questions and cooperate with Shabram's agents to arrest Elaine today, just in case. All I have to do is wait and pray for their success, Simon thought as he focused on his current crafting lesson. I should receive a report sometime soon.

As it turned out, Devil Forgemaster's ability to craft miasma-powered accessories covered a much larger range than just rings and other jewellery. Cassandra, whose Witch Class granted her access to crafting Perks similar to his own, helped him redefine just how broad that category was. Armlets and bracers, amulets, belts, boots, gloves, scarves, cloaks, earrings, even masks and small dolls counted as accessories as far as the Overlord Class was concerned.

"Fetishes are charms specifically bound to a unique owner or target, depending on whether they are meant to hinder or help," Cassandra explained as she showed Simon a small cloth poppet. Odette Kano had 'kindly' lent them a workshop in the Midnight Market where they could practice their craft without oversight.

"Unlike most accessories, they require material like dirt, hair, bones, or clothes… and so many of them degrade in weeks."

"A cursed object that destroys itself once it has served its purpose and leaves behind little evidence… I can see why witches are so feared," Simon mused.

"It wasn't always this way," Cassandra replied calmly.

"The Witch is a Vassal of the Necromancer Noble Class, which evolved with the times as people began to perceive it differently. Necromancy originally started out as the art of consulting ancestral spirits for guidance, divination, or psychometry. The use of miasma to create undead or fuel diabolism curses came much after the Class' creation."

"So, Classes can change over time?"

"If the archetype they derive their power from does, yes. Our ancestors perceived necromancers as gravekeepers and keepers of forbidden knowledge. Their image as graverobbers raising the dead came much later."

"I wonder if the same could be done with the Overlord," Simon mused. Somehow, he had his doubts. Cassandra smiled demurely.

"Such changes take place over centuries, but perhaps Your Majesty's actions can influence how people will see your Class in time." Which made Simon ponder if he shared the same Perks as his predecessors. Mardok's rule was characterized by savage brutality, chaotic atrocities, and demonic power.

Gargauth and Balzam Magnos had both been more focused on the acquisition of wealth and conquest respectively rather than genocide and mass destruction, so that could have influenced how the Overlord Class expressed itself in modern times.

"Unfortunately, crafting most fetishes requires the Tier III spell Cursebound, which is currently beyond Your Majesty's grasp," Cassandra warned him.

"I should unlock it soon if my Miasmic Archmage Perk continues to upgrade every ten levels," Simon replied.

"Are there differences in effects between accessories?"

"Some do lend themselves more to specific types of magic," Cassandra confirmed.

"Masks are very good for conjuration or shapeshifting, since they can channel the persona of the face they emulate. Gauntlets and gloves synergize best with martial-focused abilities, boots and shoes favor mobility, and so on. It does not prevent the crafter from imbuing them with other effects, but each object has its affinities."

"I see." All in all, Simon had only begun to scratch the surface of the field of study.

"You know more about crafting than I would have thought, Cassandra."

"Thank you," she replied with a hint of appreciation.

"I was the one providing for our family by selling magical items and potions in Telluria, so that my father could focus on his research. Many mistook me for an apothecary, which pleased me."

"Would you rather be seen as a necromancer?" To Simon's surprise, Cassandra actually shook her head.

"I do not consider myself a necromancer, but a healer or doctor. Death is simply a disease we have yet to find a perfect cure for."

"I'm not sure everyone would prefer being transformed into a rotting zombie over dying and reincarnating." Though then again, Simon knew better than most that death was a dreadful and terrible thing, even when it ended up leading to a new life. He did not relish it in the slightest.

"Perhaps… but there are so many taken before their time, to their grief and that of their families. I would like for everyone to have the choice when to depart rather than see it forced upon them." Cassandra held his gaze.

"Surely Your Majesty has lost people they would rather have kept at their side." Simon scowled, suddenly uncomfortable.

"What makes you think that?"

"Your Majesty's expression when you returned from the academy in Telluria," Cassandra replied.

"It was grief." Simon sank in his seat. He didn't think she would pay attention to such things. Cassandra always struck him as oblivious, but she seemed to be rather observant.

"I have a friend who has lost her memory after an incident, in a way that no healing magic I know of can solve," Simon admitted. It was technically true, and since no phantom hands strangled him, he took it as a good sign.

"She is alive and breathing, but still dead to me somehow, if that makes sense." Cassandra listened patiently.

"It is not the person Your Majesty grieves for, but their shared memories?"

"I suppose so. She is fine otherwise, but… she's not the same person I knew anymore. I'm mourning someone who is still alive." Simon scoffed.

"You must find it ridiculous."

"No, not at all," she replied kindly.

"I believe it is the perspective of leaving things unfinished that people fear more than death. Grief is the absence of closure."

"An interesting approach." And not too far from the truth.

"You think it's the lack of closure that weighs down on me?" Cassandra nodded sharply.

"I have met many ghosts in my short life. All remain because they have unfinished business, a weight that prevents them from passing on. It is only when they solve it or make peace with it that they can pass on peacefully. Regret is the soil in which grief grows." Simon couldn't help but recall Eleanor's ghost, haunting Castle Carcass until she was laid to rest and her murder's mystery solved.

"So you are saying I should accept that the person I knew is gone?"

"Or fulfill the dreams you shared with them before they forgot. The burden of grief will grow lighter once His Majesty does so." Simon pondered her words. He did have regrets when it came to past reigns: not visiting the Sanctuary in the sky with Eole, not helping Belzemine heal, and not living long enough to wed Anna and raise a family with her. He had spent all of his past ten lives starting things that ended halfway through and gave him an aching sense of incompletion, and he still had ninety more to go.

Simon needed to process this reality, or it would destroy him. Louis was right; he wouldn't be able to continue on forever with so many ghosts weighing down on him. Maybe he could exorcize them like he did Eleanor: by completing their unfinished business, whether in this reign or the next. Then maybe he could make peace with these memories.

"Thank you for your wisdom, Cassandra," Simon said sincerely.

"You've given me much to think about."

"Your Majesty is welcome." She put a finger on her chin.

"Is this how living friends behave?"

"I like to think we are becoming friends, yes." Simon had mistaken Cassandra for a spooky freak like her father, but she had turned out to be rather wise for her age and more caring than she let on. He was growing fond of her in spite of her… undead-related eccentricities. Simon heard a knock on the workshop door.

"Come in," he said, with Belzemine and Duchar soon walking inside the room.

"Your Majesty," Duchar said, the old wizard's eyes traveling from his daughter to Simon. The Overlord couldn't tell whether Duchar resented or approved of the two spending time together.

"I have finished analyzing the seal, and I think I have identified its key flaw."

"And I have completed Lorimor's calculations, since he has yet to recover from his breakdown," Belzemine said as she presented him with a pile of papers.

"Is Your Majesty certain this comet will end its journey with the Serpent-Bearer and the Scorpion beforehand?"

"I'm not sure, but I trust the source I learned it from." Simon didn't see why someone as powerful and confident as Elios Magnos would lie about something like this.

"Then if the Serpent-Bearer concludes the cycle, it will logically begin with the Archer constellation." Belzemine showed him a calendar noting the days when the comet would align with the zodiac.

"According to our calculations, the comet will cross it on the 27th of Frimaire 404 After Doom, travel across the sky during the next twelve months, and leave on the 26th of Frimaire 405."

"This month is Nivose 403, so… that leaves us eleven months," Simon counted. They had a little less than a year before the Zodiac Parade began. And it would start right after the Winter Solstice, the day on which the fourth and final Seasonal Key sacrifice would be due…

"From what I read, the comet will cross the Minotaur constellation from the 24th of Floreal 404 to the 3rd of Messidor 404, sixth in the order."

"I thought the Minotaur sign only covered the month of Floreal?" Cassandra asked. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"According to modern astrology, which does not include the Serpent-Bearer so as to align twelve signs with twelve months," Simon replied. The difference hardly mattered since the crystal called out to Cassandra anyway, which suggested that the symbolism mattered more than factuality when it came to sorcery.

"The comet is going to follow a slightly different trajectory."

"I see," Cassandra muttered back.

"Your Majesty believes the Muse will escape during the period when that comet meets the Minotaur?" Simon nodded. He himself had broken out of the elves' seal when the comet passed the Serpent-Bearer's constellation, which seemed to be tied to Mardok and the Overlord's power. It wouldn't surprise him if something similar happened with the Minotaur.

"I can't confirm it yet, but I strongly suspect it," he said.

"This would align with my own findings," Duchar said.

"I have compared samples from our previous excursion into the forest alongside stored monster carcasses from earlier months and noticed a tiny, if noticeable, increase in miasma potency over time." Simon feared he would say that.

"The seal isn't getting weaker," he guessed, "it's the demon who grows stronger over time."

"Yes, it would seem that Minotaur Fiend's power is tied to the comet somehow," Duchar concluded.

"The closer it gets, the more potent the demon's miasma." Belzemine's scowl deepened with grief and horror.

"Would it cause the Darkwood to expand?"

"Certainly not so long as the seal holds," Duchar reassured them.

"However, the concentration of miasma will slowly strengthen monsters in the area. If I had to make an estimation, it would be the equivalent of the average level of the Darkwood's inhabitants increasing by one or two each month. More dangerous entities will begin to manifest as the miasma becomes thick enough to support their existence." A process that would likely continue until the Minotaur's power reached its apex once the comet entered its associated constellation.

And if all the Zodiac Fiends followed the same pattern… then it didn't surprise Simon that they managed to throw the western continent into chaos in his previous reign. The silver lining was that the more powerful a monster was, the more ambient energy it required to sustain itself. A Dungeon's inhabitants would quickly weaken like Belzemine did when leaving its confines, and the Darkwood's inhabitants should be no exception. They might threaten Whispermire, but would remain confined to the area…

at least until the Muse and the Minotaur Fiend escaped. Which begged the question, what was Simon going to do with this information? So far, he didn't really have a coherent plan when it came to his reigns besides gathering information, staying alive, and growing strong enough to keep surviving. He would have once counted leaving his family's orbit and enjoying a peaceful life a victory.

The discovery that powerful archfiends would rise to threaten the world in less than a year's time had thoroughly killed that plan. Neutralizing all miasma crystals in a year's time seemed almost impossible, especially since he still didn't know the location of all the demonbarrows. A second Doom would strike the world in his lifetime. Could he stop the civil war and ensure Endymion remained united to face the threat?

Probably not until he had grown strong enough to fend off assassins or assert himself to the various imperial factions. Until he could match blows with his siblings, the best Simon could hope for was to delay the inevitable or ensure parts of the empire survived its collapse. He could try to join one of the parties to ensure they won the conflict with minimum bloodshed, or follow Lord Paimon's plan and ride out the conflict in the Berwick Islands to ensure he had at least fresh troops to call upon.

Alternatively, he could focus on completing his father's quest to locate the demonbarrows and neutralize them, whether by binding the Zodiac Fiends to his service or finding a way to seal away the crystals. His control over the Darkwood and Kano granted him a powerbase he could develop without involving House Magnos. He could also take Eole on her offer to flee to her homeland in the sky and take the few people he cared for there. It had survived the first Doom, so perhaps it could ride out the second untouched?

Finally, he could focus on growing stronger as quickly as possible and perfecting his Overlord Class. Hunting down valuable Crestones whose Perks he could absorb like the Templar or Paladin's ability to harm demons would give him a crucial edge, if he could obtain them. There's countless paths I could take, but many deadlines to take into account, Simon thought. I'll need to draw a chart at one point.

"If I may ask Your Majesty, how should we proceed with our demonic dryad?" Duchar inquired, a gleam of interest in his gaze.

"Shall we proceed with the ritual? That fool Lorimor spends his days weeping about how he has failed his mistress and will not do anything productive, so his sacrifice would not be a big loss, especially since Your Majesty can preserve his soul. I can simply put it back into an undead receptacle."

Simon had to admit that transforming Lorimor into a sentient zombie might actually be an improvement over his current behavior, and the man probably deserved his fate, but the idea of resorting to sacrificing one of his retainers still irked him. He crossed his arms and mulled over it.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but if I understand correctly, the demon seeks to harmonize itself with individuals bearing the sign of the Minotaur," Cassandra spoke up.

"I could offer myself as a host."

"You can't be serious!" Simon was aghast.

"You want to let an archfiend take over your body?!"

"No, of course not," Cassandra replied.

"But Your Majesty seems to be under a misconception. To merge with a host while drawing on their full power, a possessing demon must harmonize itself with their vessel, fusing in purpose, body, and mind like a Class user with a Crestone."

"What my daughter means to say is that demonic possession isn't as much of a takeover as a merger," Duchar explained.

"How do you explain the dryad's behavior then?" Simon countered.

"She switches between two personalities regularly."

"Because that merger is incomplete, Your Majesty. A successful possession either requires a contract of some sort and a compatibility factor, which I assume is why this Minotaur is looking for vessels born under their sign. Frankly, the mere fact that an incomplete fusion happened at all is a miracle. A dryad and a demon are utter opposites and shouldn't be capable of coexisting. I suspect the First Overlord cast an extremely powerful spell to force the fusion." Belzemine looked at her feet again.

"Lord Mardok was… very skilled in the dark arts."

"What I mean to say, Your Majesty, is that the merger will still be me," Cassandra explained.

"I will become one with the demon, but our goals and intentions will align."

"And what if the demon wants to slaughter us all and the merger causes it to become dominant?" Simon countered.

"Then Your Majesty can use the brand to kill me if I step out of line," Cassandra replied with disturbing nonchalance.

"My soul can be preserved so long as you are the one to give me the fatal blow."

"My power only activates on lower-level targets, and you're one level higher than me."

"Then I only have to surrender or destroy my Crestone and seize Lorimor's, for example," Cassandra replied calmly.

"In that case, I would become a level 1 Scholar and count as a lower-level target for Your Majesty's Perk." Oh. Could… could that actually work? It sounded feasible on paper, at least… Even then, the risks were too great. The possessed Eole shrugged off a lesser slave crest, but he hadn't bestowed any Devil Brand on her back then, so Simon couldn't tell whether the marks would actually remain behind or if they would be enough to kill the demonic fusion.

Not to mention that while part of Eole's motivations had survived her fusion with the Fish Fiend, she had also mistaken him for Mardok and been driven to murder him. Simon couldn't see any way to prevent a fight unless he obtained the Brand of Pride, which his predecessors placed on Belzemine and that compelled utter obedience.

"Why would you even consider this?" Simon asked, dumbfounded.

"Merging with an archfiend is a unique opportunity that would let me command greater power than I could ever achieve on my own," Cassandra replied calmly.

"I do not mind sharing my body with a demon if it means I can help mortals free themselves from death. And I trust Your Majesty's power can keep me in line."

"Your resolve does you credit, my daughter," Duchar praised her with some twisted fatherly pride, the way a normal person would congratulate their child for taking on a difficult exam rather than offering herself to a goddamn demon.

"The secrets you would learn and the power you would achieve would be worth the cost." Belzemine looked at him in a rare display of disgust.

"You know nothing of the price she will pay, wizard," she said before turning to Simon.

"Your Majesty, I…" She gulped.

"While it is not my place to question your decisions, I strongly urge you to reconsider." She looked down again.

"This dryad is already suffering. We should not pass on her pain to another." This is personal to her, Simon thought. He recalled how she had reacted when seeing the murals in the Halls of the Minotaur. Was she there when Mardok corrupted the Darkwood? Or did she have anything to do with it? She did say she 'told him,' whatever that meant…

"I appreciate your trust in me, Cassandra, but I will not put you at such risk," Simon decided.

"I need to consider our options before–" Simon froze when he sensed someone calling him through the Brand of Sloth. Shabram. Finally.

"Excuse me, I am receiving a telepathic call," Simon told his allies before answering Shabram.

"Yes?"

"Your Majesty," she said when he opened up to telepathic contact, her voice apologetic.

"I must inform you that Patriate Malphas could not be taken alive." Damn it.

"Report."

"As per your instructions, we attempted to take him by surprise and feed him to Gourmand. We successfully cornered him in his estate, where he hosted unregistered mercenaries for his own protection, but the man blew himself up with an explosive necklace rather than risk capture. We could only recover his Crestone and charred bones, too late for Gourmand to consume his soul."

"Quite the admission of guilt," Simon replied. Patriate must have committed some heinous crimes if he preferred death over being taken alive for interrogation.

"There's more. We have found coded, damning correspondence aimed at insurrectionists associated with the White Unicorn and enemy nations. The letters detail S-ranked state secrets, including His Late Majesty Balzam's death. I am now convinced the Lord-Treasurer was the Illusean mole on the High Council." … What? Patriate? Patriate Malphas, a rebel supporter?! That slimy, opportunistic social climber, an agent of the White Unicorn and ally of the Paladin?! Impossible! How long had he been working with the enemy?!

Since he became the Merchant and ascended to the High Council? Even earlier? Was he bought? No way, the empire already let him live in luxury, and killing oneself took guts. Was he a deep cover agent from the start? It made no sense! He was sitting right next to me, the duplicitous bastard, Simon thought as he recalled his third death, his jaw clenching. He had been wondering who would have benefited from destabilizing the empire this way, but if Patriate had been working for Illusea and the White Unicorn…

He's the one who poisoned me with the goblet. Another name to add to the death list.

"Our investigation shows that he used shell companies to purchase warehouses across Marthrone undetected," Shabram added.

"We haven't found anything special when we raided them, but they must have been used to transport a number of goods without our knowledge."

"No sign of magical glyphs anywhere on those properties?" Simon asked, which Shabram denied.

"Keep looking then. I think we're in the clear with his death, but better be safe than sorry."

"As your Majesty wishes." Simon sensed another call, coming from Leonard this time. How fortuitous.

"Yes, Leonard?"

"Elaine Malphas blew herself up." What the–"Explain yourself, now."

"We've tried to arrest her at her dorm, as Your Majesty asked. She vainly attempted to flee through a window, and triggered some kind of explosive device when she realized we had cut off her avenues of escape. Two students have been killed in the blast, and Meredith received light injuries." Something was wrong.

It wouldn't surprise Simon that Patriate gave his daughter an express checkout option in case she was captured—the fact she killed herself implied she was involved in her father's schemes—but the method surprised him.

"Why kill herself in such a dramatic fashion?" Simon wondered.

"A poison pill would have brought less attention."

"To prevent an autopsy, I would wager," Leonard replied.

"Her body is almost entirely gone. If she was hiding identifying marks like tattoos or the like, we'll never know it now."

"Too bad taking secrets to the grave doesn't work on someone with necromancers on his payroll," Simon replied.

"Recover anything you can. We'll have Duchar study the remains once Meredith recovers."

"As you command, Your Majesty." Simon cut the communication and then faced his other allies.

"We're done for the day," he decided, "I need to think." The Malphas' actions pointed to them being involved with the Illuseans, and their deaths should have brought an end to their plans. With the capital saved from destruction, Endymion's government could keep up the charade of unity for a few more months. But why? Why would the Malphas ally with the empire's enemy when they owed everything to the imperial institutions? What could motivate them enough that they would rather kill themselves than face capture?

Simon had a bad feeling about all of this. He heard Shabram's scream in his sleep. Simon woke up in the middle of the night the same way he had in the previous reign at the exact same hour. He immediately knew what had happened when he sent his spymaster a telepathic call and only received silence in return. Shabram was dead, likely alongside almost everyone inside Castle Frightwall. Purged in holy light.

Patriate Malphas was dead, his daughter was dead, their properties had been raided across the empire and cleaned of anything magical, and yet the attack on Frightwall still happened.

"I don't understand what's going on," Simon muttered as he held his skull with both hands.

"If Malphas' death isn't what cancels out the attack, then what else–" The answer struck him in a flash of lightning. Belzemine. The elves only cancelled the attack when she was still in Castle Frightwall on that date. Either she stopped them somehow, or more likely, they didn't want to risk killing her in the blast somehow. Her absence was the trigger.

"Agnes, come to my room," he asked Belzemine through telepathy.

"There's a question I must ask you."

"Which one, Your Majesty?"

"Something I should have asked the day we met." Simon clenched his jaw.

"Who are you?"