The Hundred Reigns

Chapter 86: Mask of the Jester King (4)

The first thing that crossed Simon’s mind was: Fuck.

The second thing was: How did she figure it out?

The third was: I can salvage this… somehow.

“What are you talking about, my daughter?” Simon lied at first, hoping she was only bluffing somehow.

“Please, Simon, Mom’s good at picking mana up in the air, but I’m better. So much better, I can see through miasma too.” She ascended up the dais and walked up to him with a wicked smirk on her lips. “Fiendmask is one of my favorite spells too, so I would recognize it anywhere. I can see the tiny miasma vibrations and recognize your magical signature.”

Norbelle leaned forward until he could feel her breath on his face.

“And since you can sit on the Crimson Throne without being thrown off it or smote, then this means you’re the Overlord now,” she said, grinning wickedly. “You’ve killed our father, haven’t you?”

…

Okay, this was bad.

Of course the family’s magical prodigy with both Visionary and Darkblood powers would be able to see through the Fiendmask in spite of his Anathemic Secrecy-powered immunity against divination magic. Visionaries were said to be capable of seeing the faintest traces of mana with their third eye, and Darkbloods were probably more sensitive to miasma in general. Norbelle was capable of seeing through the Dark in a way her mother couldn’t.

He should focus on keeping his Overlord armor on at all times should he try to impersonate Balzam again in a later reign, so no one capable of piercing through the Fiendmask could see his true face.

Simon considered either teleporting away to his Dungeon safehouse or taking Norbelle by surprise with a spell, hoping that Frightwall’s buffs would help him close the gap in power between them, but she had to be on her guard if she suspected him of having killed their father.

“But… if you were strong enough to kill Father, why would you use something as simple as Fiendmask to hide yourself rather than a more powerful ability, or use a Rogue Vassal Class? Not to mention I’m pretty sure you’ve never learned magic in your entire life.” She put a finger on her lower lip. “How do you explain this conundrum?”

This is my chance. Simon feigned a sigh, “Promise me you won’t laugh.”

“No,” Norbelle replied flatly, her lips stretching wide.

This bitch. “You’ve heard about Louis attempting to kill our father in his bedroom, right?”

“Yes, I heard he killed a body double and–” Norbelle suddenly stopped herself, before exploding into laughter. “Wait, did Father pick you as the replacement body double now that the old one died?! Is that why you can sit on the throne?!”

“This is not funny at all!” This only caused Norbelle to laugh louder, which both annoyed and relieved Simon. “I didn’t ask for this! He used some of his stupid brands to put an illusion over me, told me he would eat me if I messed up, and then bailed out!”

“And of course he puts you ‘in charge’ right when he recalls me to the castle… poor Overlord, more afraid of his own children than his enemies.” Norbelle put her hands behind her back. She studied him for a moment before asking, “Where is he right now, Simon?”

“Some Dungeon in the Berwick Islands, from what I gathered,” Simon replied evasively in case she went off to investigate. He couldn’t tell whether she bought his far-fetched lie or if she was just humoring him, but hope gave him life. “He didn’t tell me when he would return.”

“Interesting…” Norbelle’s grin only widened. “So if he put you in charge… then that means you’ll bear the blame if you mess up.”

Simon didn’t like her tone. “Are you thinking about blackmailing me, Norbelle?”

“I wouldn’t call it blackmail since you’re at my complete mercy right now. Extortion would be the more accurate term. Plus, you started it by trying to take my Crestone.” Norbelle met his gaze with a pained expression. “Father wouldn’t trust you with it, which meant you tried to rob your dear little sister like a thief. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I confess,” Simon ‘admitted’ his crime. “I… I read something in the library about demon blood suppressing Visionary powers. I thought it might be why I keep having strange dreams.”

“Too bad, my Crestone wouldn’t do anything to help you on that front even if I were stupid enough to lend it to you. Visionary powers are in the blood, dummy, not a Crestone. It’s a divine right only the likes of me were born with.” The worst part was that she sounded like she actually believed it too. “But you’re correct, I think you do have latent powers. I give Dad a fifty-fifty percent chance of either slotting the Oracle Crestone into your forehead once we slaughter all the elves, or sacrificing you to summon up a demon lord.”

“Charming.” Simon clasped his hands in annoyance. He hadn’t given up on obtaining the Summoner Crestone and seeing the truth for himself, but that plan was more or less ruined for this reign. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me and forget this all happened?”

“Maybe, if you make it worth my while…” Norbelle lightly swung from left to right, as if studying Simon from all angles. “Mmm…”

Then she suddenly turned and sat on him as if she owned his lap.

Norbelle was rather thin, and Simon had gained immense strength from the Overlord Class over his reigns, but the sheer abruptness of the gesture surprised him anyway. He sensed the Crimson Throne stirring, like an annoyed tiger hissing threateningly. It did not appreciate a non-Overlord taking up its space.

“I knew it, sitting on the ‘Overlord’s’ lap protects me!” Norbelle slouched on him, her feet and head on the throne’s armrests. “I wonder if having a cushion would achieve the same result… I could get used to this.”

“Norbelle, what are you doing?!” Simon protested.

“Sitting on our daddy’s lap where he deals out judgment, which that ass never allowed me to do. He sure does love burdening me with nonsense though.” Norbelle did her best impression of Balzam, which happened to be comically bad. “Norbelle, go burn that man alive to practice your spellcasting! Norbelle, go bind that Eidolon for me! Norbelle, go marry this guy so I can steal his family’s Crestones, take his lands, kill his father, and add his mother to my harem!”

In spite of the tension in the air, Simon couldn’t resist a grunt of annoyance. “Don’t tell me that was his reason for shipping you off to Cocagne…”

“I swear to you, Dad lusts after Queen Remedia almost as much as the Mage Crestone. I mean, sure, she’s beautiful and powerful, but come on, he should just grab some whore and cast a polymorphy spell on her.” Norbelle stroked her curly hair. “That’s something you should have had cast on yourself, by the way. I would have had a harder time seeing through your disguise.”

Simon could already tell this was going to be a long day. “Can you at least tell me what else gave me away, besides the spell?”

“The fact I called you ‘Daddy’ in public and you didn’t immediately look at me as if I were the scum of the earth, for a start.” She stroked his cheek as if he were the younger sibling. “Don’t feel shame, Simon. I’m a genius. If whatever Dad cast on you can fool Mom, they’ll trick anyone short of the Paladin or the Oracle.”

Simon wasn’t sure whether he should feel reassured or offended by her condescending tone. “Get off my lap, Norbelle. I’ve got Dassein, Uncle Maublanc, and the generals waiting for an audience, and our father ordered me to deal with them.”

“Yes, I know, I saw them on my way here.” She didn’t get off him. “Call them in.”

Simon’s eyes widened in horror at her proposition. “No, absolutely not!”

“Come on, I swear I won’t tell them the truth. I just want to have some fun with my big brother.”

“You’re lying.”

“It will be fun, I promise you.” Norbelle put a finger on his lips, her whimsical tone suddenly a lot more threatening. “It’ll be our… little secret.”

What a bitch. And here Simon thought she was slightly better adjusted than Thalas. Simon strongly considered using Lord of the Demon Castle to teleport and trap her in an underground vault in order to get rid of her, but Thalas and Euphemia would quickly investigate her disappearance. Silencing her permanently wasn’t an option.

Although… Maybe he could turn this to his advantage.

“You know what? Fine, I’ll play your game and indulge you.” Simon smiled back at her. “For a price.”

“Are you seriously trying to haggle with me, Simon?” Her smile began to remind Simon of a viper baring its fangs. “You forget yourself. I could blow the whistle on you at any time.”

“You don’t seem to realize how unique the current situation is,” Simon replied. “There’s no way our father is going to look over all of the decisions I make in his name. The small stuff will fly beneath his notice.”

Now he had her full attention. “Are you suggesting we go behind Dad’s back?”

“I’m just saying I could fulfill some of your requests, but you know… family sticks together. You scratch my back, I scratch yours.”

“What an intriguing concept…” Norbelle considered the proposal and found it to her liking. “Now I’m curious. Since when have you become such an interesting person, Simon?”

“I’ve always been, you just never noticed.” Simon pushed his advantage. “I want to better understand our line’s latent powers, and I think you could help me with that.”

“You think?” She seemed almost offended that he doubted her. “You wound me, Simon. Of course I can help you… and I will, if you entertain me today.” Norbelle chuckled. “Shall we?”

Although he knew better than to trust her, Simon relented. The Keeper soon announced the arrival of his next visitors.

“Prince Dassein Magnos,” it said. “Lord Chancellor Maublanc Paimon; Admiral of the Fleet, Mizuko Vepar; Imperial Wings Commander, Marquis Ronah Andras; General-in-Chief Marquis Uruk Leraje.”

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Simon straightened up in his seat as the dignitaries entered the throne room. Although the empire had plenty of generals, the imperial army was broadly organized into four major branches: the ground army, the navy, the growing air force, and law enforcement. The first three were led by a trio of generals answering to the Marshal, whereas Maublanc Paimon commanded the latter as the realm’s chancellor.

The three generals that followed Dassein and Maublanc into the room all bore brands binding them to the Overlord, and had been present when Balzam’s corpse was found in previous reigns. Lord Ronah Andras was a tall and handsome young human knight with blonde hair, blue eyes, and an aquiline nose typical of the imperial heartland. Some said he had ice in his veins, and Simon was tempted to believe them when he saw his cold expression. Something about the man reminded him of Louis.

Admiral Mizuko Vepar cut a very different figure. A cousin of Fablan’s tributary viceroy of thirty-two years old, she was rather plain with long black hair flowing down the back of her coat and sharp dark eyes assessing everything in the room. All of her movements seem poised and calculated. She had served on ships long before her country even surrendered to the empire, having been something of a privateer before she enlisted into Endymion’s navy and quickly rose through its ranks.

Uruk Leraje was the only nonhuman among them. A brownish, bald, and imposing orc with cruel red eyes and four arms—the result of having a demon blood somewhere in his family tree according to Shabram’s intel—he towered over his colleagues and matched Dassein himself in height. He was the most recent of Balzam’s appointments, having taken the post last year after his predecessor perished in Magvolia. Uruk was both the shining personification of Endymion’s efforts to incorporate goblinoids into the armed forces and an exemplar of brutal effectiveness from what Simon learned from Shabram. His new marquisate had been carved out from Telluria in blood.

Although Simon hadn’t interacted with them much, their allegiances remained clear. Uruk and Ronah had consistently sided with the War Party in Simon’s previous reigns—likely due to their pro-tribal integration agenda pleasing Uruk and Louis’ airship fleet being tied to Ronah—whereas Mizuko joined forces with the Church Party.

And all these officials walked up into the throne room to see the Overlord’s daughter slouching on her father’s lap. Simon could almost taste their confusion and discomfort at the sight. All of them wanted to ask what was going on, but they lacked the actual courage to do so. Simon died a little inside.

“Father, Norbelle,” Dassein said dutifully as he bent the knee. Maublanc and the generals followed suit, keeping their heads down. Simon let the silence hang in the air for a while, to better let them stew in their unease.

Then Norbelle gleefully worsened the situation.

“Off with their heads!” she shouted, waving her hand at the generals.

The sudden order paralyzed everyone present in surprise and dread, even Maublanc and Dassein.

Someone kill me now, Simon thought before doing his best Balzam impersonation. “Quiet, Norbelle. Don’t force me to be a parent and treat you like Thalas.”

“Oh, right, we’re supposed to wait until the end of the meeting before announcing that,” Norbelle replied with false remorse. “I’m sorry for ruining the surprise, Father.”

Simon suddenly realized why her parents were so eager to ship her off to Cocagne. She just enjoyed making a mess.

“Shush, Norbelle,” he replied, before adding something only Balzam would say. “I haven’t made up my mind about whether or not we will feed one of them to your Eidolons yet.”

Nearly everyone straightened up at those words, with even the normally unflappable Maublanc looking a bit uneasy. Good. Simon knew he was taking a risk summoning him and Dassein, but they would be less likely to notice something was wrong if they were put on the defensive.

“As you were informed, my son Louis has been relieved of command for his treachery and failures. Dassein shall now assume the role of Marshal and oversee a reorganization of our army along two core priorities.” Simon rested his head on his fist. “The purging of the traitors in our ranks, and the pursuit of Operation Deepground.”

Norbelle’s head perked up at the Deepground part, likely because she had never been told about it, and she began to listen quietly rather than interrupt again.

“The elves have infiltrated our nation, trying to foster conflict in Magvolia to invite exiles and Oracle thralls from across the Dragonsea to invade our shores,” Simon declared. “We are arresting their leaders as we speak, but I shall no longer tolerate monarchist sentiment in our territories, nor Illusean intrusions.”

“I already drew a list of targets for Prince Louis and Princess Lauriane,” Ronah said. “I had orders to bombard them should they rise in rebellion. Should I proceed with the bombing run?”

“I prefer a more calculated and precise ground offensive,” Uruk replied gruffly, though not for fear of collateral damage. “That way our men can level-up across the board.”

Dassein cleared his throat. “I’m more concerned about Telluria, Father. We have plenty of troops to keep order in Magvolia, but our troops in the northeast are stretched thin.”

“I warned Your Majesty that a continental blockade on Illusea’s goods and people could not work so long as Tellurian territories and Cocagne remain out of grasp,” Admiral Mizuko added calmly. “Contraband networks are too robust and organized for us to fully stamp out. We would be better off redirecting our resources towards eradicating piracy across the Dragonsea to discourage a White Unicorn crossing.”

“I agree with the admiral,” Maublanc said. “Illusea will not fall so long as they can trade with Lore, Muse, and other nations. We should focus on strengthening our economy rather than trying to weaken the elves’.”

“His Majesty’s goal was to provide a permanent solution to the elf problem,” Lord Ronah reminded his colleagues. “We will never rest safely until we can pull that tree out at the root.”

“And pull it we shall, but we must delay for now,” Simon decided. “My mages have confirmed we shall soon face a rise in monster attacks and natural disasters in the coming years. A second Doom, though its severity remains to be assessed.” Hopefully, they could secure the demonbarrows and limit the overall damage. “We must act swiftly if our empire is to survive the troubled times ahead. How is Operation Deepground proceeding?”

“Apace, Your Majesty,” Maublanc said. “The construction will be right on schedule.”

Simon proceeded to review the operation’s details with the officials present. Each general, Maublanc included, had been tasked with overseeing the construction of bunker complexes across their various territories and stuffing them with supplies. Although Simon had yet to acquire the codes required to open the existing vaults, this meeting was the occasion to learn what they contained. The fort Maublanc had ordered him and Anna to evacuate to during the Berwick Islands reign turned out to be part of this initiative.

The real surprise, however, was that Lord Paimon knew the bunker codes; something that even Shabram wasn’t aware of.

Simon guessed that made some sense. Lord Paimon had been his father’s blood brother and right-hand for decades, and though Balzam didn’t trust him with all of his secrets, he extended enough faith to grant him the Commander Noble Crestone and expect him to work in his best interests. Either that, or Balzam wanted to at least ensure the Berwick Islands would remain under his army’s control no matter what happened, likely to ensure he could keep an eye on Elios Magnos.

His father had also clearly favored regions where he identified demonbarrow locations for bunker construction, with areas like Uyo having been more or less expected to fend for themselves. Simon was convinced he outright planned to abandon them if he couldn’t find the Zodiac Fiend hidden there in time.

All in all, Simon was confident he could access these bunkers in future reigns. Focusing entirely on their construction should allow key imperial infrastructure and a large part of the population to survive the coming cataclysm, not just the army… assuming the civil war didn’t tear it apart first.

“Pass our new priorities down the chain of command,” Simon concluded at the meeting’s end, dismissing everyone except for one person. “Lord Chancellor, stay behind.”

Lord Paimon froze as the others exited the throne room with haste. No doubt they remembered the Overlord’s earlier words, and Norbelle’s smirk only frightened them further. They all left without a sound out of dread ‘Balzam Magnos’ might remember their existence.

Once they were gone, Simon rose from his seat—with Norbelle hastily leaping off his lap while at it—and then climbed down the dais to face Lord Paimon. The Commander straightened up like a knight readying himself for battle.

Simon extended his open palm after a moment of silence.

“My Crestone, Maublanc.”

All the color left Maublanc Paimon’s face. Simon heard he had never refused an order from his blood-brother, but the silence that followed his command made Simon wonder if there would be a first for everything.

However, the Commander was loyal to a fault. He silently handed over his Crestone without a word or complaint, though the Overlord could hear his vassal’s teeth clench and grit beneath his lips.

Does he really trust my father so much? Simon wondered. Lord Paimon had sounded rather desperate to believe Balzam appreciated and rewarded his service back in Berwick. What happened between these two?

Whatever the case, it served his purpose well enough. Simon had read Shabram’s notes on Dassein and gotten a pretty good understanding of the Rider Class. True to its name, it focused entirely on mounting creatures or vehicles for mobility or combat, with various buffs sprinkled in. Good, but relatively limited and not too useful in Simon’s case, since he had Perks that could achieve similar things.

The Commander, however, was quite a different story.

The Commander: The lord and strategist without peer, who can lead men into battle and prosperity alike with far-reaching foresight.

Strength B, Vitality D, Agility D, Perception A, Magic E, Intelligence S, Charisma S, Luck B.

Innate Perk: Perfect Coordination (Passive): You are unaffected by negative area of effect abilities cast by your allies, and your allies are unaffected by yours.

Innate Perk: Tactical Acumen (Active): You can glean information on an individual within sight, such as their classes, levels, strengths, and weaknesses. The more you study a target, the more accurate the intel you obtain. This is a divination effect.

Innate Perk: One For All (Passive): Any buff and debuff effect applied to you spreads to your allies capable of perceiving your presence.

Innate Perk: Strategic Mind (Passive): You have an intuitive grasp of strategy, organization, and battle tactics, granting you supernatural insight on these matters.

Level 1 Perk: March On I (Active): Tactic. You double the walking and running speed of all allies within a sixty-foot radius for one minute per level.

This was the Class that had allowed Balzam Magnos to triumph over Gargauth, and Simon only had to take a look at the Perks to see why. All of them would synergize extremely well with his own Class and strengthen him.

“Is this a punishment?” Maublanc inquired with a deep, dark scowl.

“No, not at all,” Simon cajoled his honorary uncle. “There are simply things I must do that require this Crestone. You will recover it in due time.” Likely in the next reign. “I am told you were seeking a husband for Anna?”

“I am.” Maublanc’s eyes immediately lit up with hope. “Dassein? Or Thalas?”

It annoyed Simon that his name didn’t come up. He didn’t blame Maublanc for wanting a prince for a son-in-law, but this hammered home the fact that Lord Paimon wouldn’t give a bastard the time of day unless he became the Overlord.

“I haven’t decided which of my sons will serve that purpose yet, especially now that Louis has disappointed me so,” Simon replied, being careful to word it in a way that would sound as cold and utilitarian as possible. “It is time our lines become one, old friend.”

“That… that has always been my dearest wish.” Maublanc bowed respectfully. “I have waited years for this.”

“And you shall see your patience rewarded.” Simon closed his fist around the Commander Crestone. “Now attend to your duties. I shall summon you again before long.”

His honorary uncle nodded and excused himself. Never before had Simon seen a man so happy to be robbed of a Noble Class.

“You clever, clever little trickster,” Norbelle mused once Lord Paimon left the throne room, a finger on her tongue. “You worded Anna’s marriage as a bribe against the Commander Crestone, but you didn’t specify whether her husband would be a trueborn son or not.”

“Do you think our father will be mad if I announce my betrothal to Anna?” Simon replied with a smirk.

“I give him a forty-forty chance of either killing or congratulating you.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “And the other twenty percent?”

“He does both.” Norbelle put her hands behind her back. “First time I’ve heard about this Operation Deepground.”

“That’s the part that surprises you?” Simon inquired. “Not the coming monsters and disasters?”

She smiled mischievously at him and blatantly ignored the question. “It was fun watching you play pretend, so I’ll give you a hint. Lauriane isn’t the only person who takes notes of your patricidal dreams. You caught Mirror-Face’s attention too.”

“Mirror-Face?” Simon frowned. “You mean Mastemo?”

“Who else walks around with a mask like his?” Norbelle shrugged. “He tried to convince Father and Mother to entrust you to his care. Having you join the Templars would both put you out of the running for the throne, and let you refine your gifts under the auspices of the Light.”

Interesting. Simon recalled that Euphemia petitioned her husband on that front, but he thought the idea came from her rather than Mastemo. “I assume our father said no?”

“Of course he did, but if you asked to join the Templars rather than attend the Academy, who would object? Not Mirror-Face, that’s for sure.” She studied Simon for a moment, then chuckled to herself. “It’s cute.”

Simon scowled at her smug expression. “What?”

“How you tried to lie to me. I’ve figured out what’s truly going on, but it’s so fun to watch you squirm that I'll keep my mouth shut for now. I’m both immensely curious to learn how you pulled it off, and what made you possibly think impersonating Father would end in anything other than disaster. I can’t wait to see how it all comes crashing down.” She playfully walked past him, hands behind her back. “I do offer a warning, though.”

Simon glared at her. “Which one?”

Norbelle leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“If you try to sleep with Mom while in disguise…” Her hand brushed against his thigh. “I’ll turn you into the Neuterlord.”