The Hundred Reigns

Chapter 73: The Season of the Minotaur (22)

Louis sliced the manatree in two from over a mile away.

The swiftness of the attack was only matched by its absurdity. A paper-thin sword of unfathomable length sliced across the horizon in the blink of an eye, whipping up powerful winds in its wake and cutting through anything unlucky enough to be in its path: clouds, hail, the Halls of the Minotaur, and the manatree’s trunk.

Simon had seen Casval’s beam barely leave a scorch mark on the ancient bark, yet Louis’ sword cut through it like butter, ignoring all hardness and resistance. It appeared as if space itself split apart to let his blade pass by and slice everything in its path. The blade disappeared once it finished its crescent motion with a faint noise that preceded the chaos to come. Simon could have sworn that time froze for a second as the world held its breath, only for it to resume with a loud creaking noise.

The manatree tilted to the side as its upper half slid off from its bottom.

Louis had aimed slightly diagonally rather than purely horizontally, so a huge chunk of the manatree began to collapse due to the lack of support. Its enormous shape began to collapse to the Halls of the Minotaur’s left in a terrible rumble. Branches the length of Whispermire’s streets crashed onto the forest floor and swamps below in violent crashes

This is… Is that what Noble Crestones can do at a high enough level?! Simon wondered, torn between awe and disbelief. Even the buzzing calls of his followers in the back of his mind or the sight of Casval circling the halved manatree failed to draw him back to reality. Norbelle and Thalas were just a preview…

He spotted a flash of steel at the edge of his gaze, flying straight at him.

Simon hastily summoned his spiked shield just in time to intercept the projectile, which saved his life. A golden spear smashed through his protection and sent spines flying in all directions. A flying sword aiming straight for Simon’s head followed afterwards and was thankfully deflected.

Then came another, and another, and another!

A veritable bombardment of various bladed weapons—from swords to polearms—flew from Louis’ airship at Simon with immense speed. He would have likely been immediately unhorsed without his Warmonger Perk preventing forced dismounts, and though he immediately ordered his phantom steed to flee, the attacks continued to strike at him with lethal precision. Louis—this had to be Louis’ doing—could somehow still see him from a great distance.

One of the spears eventually struck Simon’s phantom steed directly, tearing off its head and dispelling it. Simon found himself plummeting to his doom for a second before he quickly used Lord of the Demon Castle to teleport back inside the Halls of the Minotaur’s sanctum. He nearly slipped on pieces of debris on arrival, since part of the ceiling had collapsed from Louis’ attack.

Thankfully, most of his remaining followers had survived. Duchar had retreated here alongside the fruit, Hector, and Cassandra’s coven. The real surprise was the Muse, who appeared alive in spite of a large gash across her chest. She looked more annoyed than hurt, too.

“You live,” Simon said, dumbfounded.

The Muse glared at him. “I am not so easily felled.”

“Most manatrees can recover from a stump, and Asterion’s power likely enhances our host,” Duchar suggested, a deep scowl on his face. “Nonetheless, may I ask what struck us? Some new kind of weapon?”

“Louis struck us.” Merely uttering his name caused Duchar to pale and Hector’s head to perk up in alarm. The rest of the group weren’t familiar enough with the crown prince’s reputation to fully understand the danger they were in, but those two did. “There’s no time to waste. He’ll be here very soon, so we need to evacuate now.”

“Evacuate?” The Muse hissed in contempt. “I cannot go anywhere, coward! I will not abandon my forest to a woodsman!”

“While I do not believe we are a match for the Marshal, our captive archfiend might be another story,” Duchar pointed out. “Evacuation may not be our only option.”

“Asterion is not at full power in his current host. The Muse will be no match for–” Simon froze upon noticing that Cassandra and her coven had stopped incantating, his lover now staring at him with a knowing gaze. “No.”

“I am willing to try,” Cassandra said calmly. “The contract should still apply after the merger.”

“And if it does not?” Hector rasped, being about as opposed to the idea as Simon himself. “What if it begins to wear you like a coat?”

Cassandra scowled for a second, but her resolve remained firm. “I do not wish to abandon the Darkwood, brother,” she said, staring at the Muse with sympathy. “I do not want to leave her to her death. Not after all that she went through.”

“I have no need for your pity,” the Muse replied venomously.

“But you do need my help.”

The Muse had no answer to that. And neither did Simon.

Fighting Louis sounded like assisted suicide, especially after seeing him cut an entire manatree in half from over a mile away before nearly killing Simon. Every instinct in his body told him their gathered forces would only slow down the slaughter at best; doubly so since Casval remained afoot.

But Duchar had a point. Asterion had been a match for the first generation of Noble Class users, and possession by a Zodiac Fiend had strengthened the likes of Eole into an actual threat. The union might give Cassandra the power to fight off Louis, or at least force him into listening to them.

Could they even run away? Simon had been careful to build an escape tunnel below the Halls of the Minotaur to escape the region in a pinch, but they were on foot and Louis had airships. A last-minute flight might be beyond them.

He could teleport a group to Frightwall as a last resort too. Euphemia still held the castle and the War Party was besieging it, but dealing with the dowager empress and trying to negotiate with her might beat facing Louis in the open.

There… There’s still another way to escape this. I knew this reign was unsustainable from the start, and little can be done to salvage this situation. I could simply… take the easy way out. Simon immediately banished that thought and refocused. No. You can never know where the future leads. I can’t take the easy way out. That would be a waste of a reign and pure cowardice.

Simon looked at his lover, who had already made her decision. Cassandra’s misplaced sympathy for the Stone Muse would not allow her to leave, and it might open up a path to new possibilities.

He guessed he could at least see if he could control a Zodiac Fiend with the right Brands and rituals… see what kind of power they wielded when fully unleashed. He could confirm whether or not they could hold their own against the strongest members of House Magnos.

“Very well,” Simon reluctantly agreed. “But beware, please. If the fiend proves too strong and the contract cannot control him…”

“You may simply drain away my mana through my Brand,” Cassandra reassured him.

If it remains after the fusion, Simon thought grimly. He turned to the Muse and hardened his resolve. Let us hope this will work. “Asterion, Minotaur of the Zodiac. Leave your current vessel and–”

A flash of pain coursed through his chest and silenced him.

Having already been backstabbed by Vouivre in a previous reign, Simon immediately recognized the feeling of a sword entering his chest through the back and slipping its way past the ribs. The blade cut through his armor and heart with casual ease, then emerged out the other side. Only the blood covering its invisible edge revealed its shape.

Simon felt sacred power not unlike the Paladin Crestone course through him, dispelling the Dark that granted him his strength, weakening his Perks, targeting all of his Class’ weaknesses with a carefully selected weapon meant to exploit each of them.

This was the sword that had killed his father.

“That was for my son,” Simon heard a familiar voice whisper behind him, which he instantly recognized as that of Ser Richard of Lore. “Your plans will die here with you, Overlord.”

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Supereffective damage. Anti-Heal, Sap, Slow–

The blow would have likely killed him instantly… had he not suffered through it before.

Supereffective damage reduced by the Betrayed Title. Ailments transferred by the Lovestruck Title.

The first title reduced the damage he suffered, and the second transferred the ailments to the Muse as part of their ‘betrothal’ agreement. Simon immediately drew from the lifeforce of his remaining monster minions to keep himself alive, switched his Ring of Cursed Winter

for a Ring of Cursed Thunderstorm to grant himself Lightning immunity, and then grabbed the sword tightly with his hand.“Hellthunder!”

He shocked both himself and his attacker, leaving him open to a counter-attack.

Hector was the first to react, his axe surging at the enemy behind Simon’s back with lethal precision. Ser Richard swiftly withdrew his sword from Simon in spite of the shock he suffered and parried Hector’s attack with it, the blow dispelling his invisibility.

How did he sneak in here undetected? Simon cursed. Did the Cobweb help him infiltrate the sanctum as a back-up plan? Did they tip him off and Louis?

“Simon!” Cassandra and her fellow witches immediately rushed to his side and began to cast spells on him to restore him. “Infernal Healing.”

“I’m fine!” Simon reassured her, clenching his teeth and pointing at Richard of Lore. “Kill him and summon Asterion!”

Compelled by her contract, the Muse immediately cast a spell that caused massive roots to surge up from the ground in an attempt to entrap and crush him. Ser Richard moved with speed even superior to his son and cut through anything that got too close to him. Duchar, Cassandra, and the other spellcasters prepared to zap him where he stood.

Casval crashed into the sanctum before they could.

His immense head smashed through the wall opposing Simon’s throne with a roar, sending stone flying in all directions. Simon grabbed Cassandra and pulled her to safety while the Muse summoned a wall of thorns to shield herself and Duchar, who was the closest to her. Everyone else was pelted by debris, with one of Cassandra’s witches taking one to the head and falling unconscious while Richard raised a shield to protect himself.

However, the monstrous dragon was somehow the least of their problems.

Standing atop Casval’s head was a man clad in armor composed of a crimson breastplate, steely shoulder pads, greaves, a gorget, leather gloves, and boots. It was such a simple attire for a Class so powerful as the Warrior, but its user managed to make it look fearsome.

“Simon, how good to see you again. I was starting to wonder if you had perished or left the continent altogether.” Louis smiled at his brother with a hint of amusement, as if sharing a private joke no one else could understand. “From the look on your face, I assume Shabram failed to inform you of my coming.”

Simon blinked. “How did–”

“Your reaction just now.” Louis swiftly snapped his fingers. “Infinite Armory, Storm of Blades.”

A hundred, if not a thousand flying swords materialized over Louis and then threw themselves at everyone present like a rain of arrows.

There was no time to recover or react to such a barrage at close range. Simon didn’t raise his shield fast enough and took the brunt of the bombardment head on. The blades dispelled his buffs on contact and punctured through his armor in dozens of places, skewering him in all vital spots. A few non-magical ones bounced off him thanks to Unyielding Essence, but most hit harder than Thalas’ fists. Only his frantic draining of his dwindling number of followers kept him alive for a few more seconds.

His allies had no such luck.

Swords impaled Cassandra through the skull, tearing her head off her shoulders before she could even register what had happened. Pieces of her skull and brain splattered on Simon’s armor and filled his heart with anguish. Her weaker coven members were simply torn to shreds mid-spellcasting. Duchar attempted to create a shield of energy around himself, but the swords pierced through the magic barrier as if it were made of paper and slew him in an instant.

Ser Richard of Lore managed to deflect a few of the projectiles with his sword and shield, but Louis simply intensified the bombardment in his direction. One of the blades slipped through the old knight’s guard and struck him in the shoulder, at which point his defense collapsed and his armor turned into a pincushion. Unlike Simon, he had no way to regenerate from such terrible wounds.

Only Hector and the Muse survived, the former because his undead anatomy let him continue to charge forwards in spite of having dozens of swords stuck in his flesh, and the latter thanks to her thick wall of summoned thorns. They both retaliated, too. Hector leaped at Louis in a snarl of undying rage and anguish, axe raised, while the Muse cast a Terabolt of immense power.

“Shieldwall.” Louis lazily waved his hand, conjuring floating magical shields in the way of the attacks. They intercepted them all, and though Hector’s axe left cracks where it stuck, it failed to get past the defense. A new curved sword in the oriental Fablan style appeared in Louis’ left hand. “Spaceslash.”

Louis swung his sword and cut through reality itself.

Space carved open along the line his blade followed, the very fabric of matter and existence splitting apart. The Muse, Hector, the walls, and the very air were all cleanly sliced apart, their pieces falling to the ground in a loud thump.

Simon struggled to even understand what had just happened. Cassandra was dead, everyone was dead, and soon, the swords stuck in his flesh would have him join them.

They never stood a chance without Asterion. The gulf in power was as vast as it had been when Simon visited Elios Magnos’ lair.

“I always found it strange that Shabram could never find you, no matter how often Lauriane asked,” Louis mused upon leaping off Casval’s head. He didn’t even spare a glance at all the people he had slain and stepped over their body parts. “That double-crosser kept you informed of all our moves and stymied investigations away from this place, am I wrong? She always put too much faith in the Overlord’s foresight.”

Simon scowled beneath his helmet, invisible fingers pressing on his throat. His body was cold and was only kept alive due to a quickly depleting well of stolen lifeforce. He would run out of minions to drain within a minute.

“What are you… talking about?” Simon asked with bloodied lips.

“You truly take me for an imbecile. Having always respected your intelligence, I thought you would return the sentiment.” Louis shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever Overlord ability lets you see the future clearly has cracks in its omniscience, or else you would have predicted this moment. It is such a shame you betrayed Lauriane. She truly cares about you, you know?”

“I didn’t betray… Endymion…” Simon coughed up blood and collapsed to his feet. His life… fading away. “All of this… greater good…”

“If you cared about the greater good, Simon, you would have joined forces with us the moment you gained the Overlord’s power. We could have cowed Euphemia into behaving and flown Endymion’s flag atop the Worldtree by now.” Louis glanced at the Muse’s corpse. Simon knew she would recover from this so long as the manatree remained alive, but he doubted Louis would give her the time to do so. “Was that your plan? To become some old hag’s gardener and breed an army of monsters to defeat us once we had exhausted ourselves?”

“There’s more… other archfiends…” Simon’s vision blurred. “Must listen… Uyo’s destruction… just the beginning…”

The last thing he saw was a thin, sinister smile of anticipation stretching across Louis’ lips.

“Good,” he said.

His sword sliced through Simon’s neck in a painless stroke and sent his head rolling off his shoulders.

The Crimson Throne welcomed him again like an old friend.

The Dark welcomed him with praise and encouragement, for he had finally taken his first steps onto the path of the Overlord. He had spent a year ruining the lives of thousands, conquering a whole region, and binding an archfiend to answer his queries. The sorrow and guilt he felt didn’t bother the Crimson Throne, nor the fact that he had lost yet another woman he loved, in-laws he appreciated, and so much more.

All that mattered to it was that darkness had triumphed.

This is the twelfth of your Hundred Reigns.

You have earned the title of Simon the Gardener.

The Gardener: You have spent a year cultivating a fading flower and put her in her place. Your Wood affinity has improved from Weak to Strong.

I have achieved so much in a year, and lost it all in a day. What grim irony. The knowledge Simon had lost Cassandra the same way he had lost Anna once weighed on him, but… perhaps not as much as he would have thought. He had prepared himself mentally for that eventuality, and Cassandra’s words of wisdom remained fresh in his mind.

He felt guilt and anguish, but he would have to learn to live with them. The very fate of the world depended on it.

He had seen the destruction that Abraxas would bring, and learned of the threat that awaited the world should he do nothing. A single person could only do so much, even the Overlord. There was so much left to achieve. He had to locate the Zodiac Fiends, find a way to permanently deal with them, and ensure both his loved ones and most of civilization survived the incoming apocalypse.

Simon considered what to do next. He could try to learn more about the comet by infiltrating the Church, or join one of the parties at court. The only way for the greater good to prevail would be to keep Endymion in one piece, and he needed allies for that.

However… However, the way Ser Richard had nearly killed him by targeting all of Simon’s weaknesses gave him pause. Either the White Unicorn had recovered the blade they used to kill Balzam Magnos, or they could produce more than one. The idea that he could infiltrate a party in Endymion only for an elven assassin to cut his reign short bothered Simon.

How did Ser Richard even enter the Halls of the Minotaur undetected? He would have needed either a lantern or help to access the place at all. Had he benefited from the Cobweb’s help, getting in like Silk likely did? Or did surviving agents of the failed Magvolian rebellion supply him with the required intel?

Ser Richard was reported to have likely perished in the failed White Unicorn landing, although his body was never recovered. Had that been false information? The prelude to another Oracle plot?

And how did Louis even learn about the attack on Magvolia when he was supposed to besiege Frightwall? Had he been tipped off? It just seemed so unlikely that both he and Ser Richard attacked at the same time at the worst possible moment. This all reeked of a higher force moving them forward, doubly so since the Oracle’s allies had focused on infiltrating the War Party’s followers.

The more he thought about the elf conspiracy and the White Unicorn, the more they bothered Simon. Those groups had somehow managed to infiltrate Endymion in depth and were determined to destabilize the empire.

Their conspiracy would continue to cause Simon issues until he figured out their reach, depth, and resources. Infiltrating the imperial parties or using their resources would become much easier once he had fully learned how to handle them and prevent them from cutting his reigns short.

It was time to get to the bottom of the elf conspiracy, and pull it out by the root.