The Hundred Reigns

Chapter 97: The Church of the Stars (9)

“Kind lightstone, restore our wounds with your Megaheal!”

Simon’s hand glowed with greenish light. The light cut on Barbas’ arm closed on its own, to the mesmerization of all other Templars on the deck.

“Are you convinced now, Barbas?” Beatrice asked.

“I admit it’s… impressive to see someone so young cast a Tier IV prayer,” Barbas conceded. “Maybe he won’t be so useless after all.”

“The recovery was not instantaneous though,” Cubirah noted. “What’s your Life affinity, Simon?”

“Weak,” Simon conceded. “I thought affinities didn’t influence prayer spells?”

“I’m afraid they do,” Beatrice corrected him. “The light megalith may send you its mana and power, but you’re still the one channeling the prayer itself.”

There were three affinities that behaved differently from the elemental ones like Fire and Frost: Support, which covered buffs, debuffs, and beneficial status effects; Ailments, which influenced ailments and other negative conditions; and Life, which determined the potency of healing effects. A strong Life affinity increased the potency of the magical healing someone applied to others and received, while a weak one did the opposite.

In short, Simon’s Megaheal prayer would only pack as much punch as a Heal prayer two tiers below it, and would provide even fewer benefits if he applied it to himself. At least he now had a recovery option that didn’t cost mana or his followers’ lives.

“A Megaheal prayer is nonetheless a potent tool, since Simon can reliably heal our wounds at no mana cost to himself,” Beatrice concluded. “Did you have any luck casting Kindling?”

“No,” Simon conceded. “I couldn’t get that prayer to work, or Radiance Slash for that matter.”

Cubirah chuckled. “You are the first Templar I’ve seen who complains that he cannot cast Tier V prayers. Even our Class doesn’t let us unlock those through Perks alone.”

“Keep training and give it time, Simon,” Beatrice said. “The light megalith must not consider you ready to use those prayers yet. This will change one day.”

Simon wasn’t so sure. He found it extremely strange how he could cast Tier IV prayer spells without any issue, which was the upper limit of his Miasmic Archmage Perk, only to abruptly fail with Tier V ones. He was starting to believe the two were linked somehow.

Simon would confirm his theory the next time he obtained a Miasmic Archmage upgrade. He should receive it soon if the Overlord Class followed the same pattern of upgrading his spellcasting tier every ten levels. And if he could suddenly cast Tier V light megalith prayers then… it would raise as many questions as it answered.

Nearly two weeks had passed since they boarded the Maidenfair for Bujan, which reminded Simon just how long such trips were compared to airship flights. It had been a relatively uneventful trip except for a brief storm on the seventh day and an encounter with an imperial naval patrol on the tenth, which ‘Silk’ took care of with a bribe. Simon spent his time either training with his fellow templars, mentally coordinating with Shabram, or trying to shadow ‘Silk’.

The last part had predictably proved to be a futile task. He simply couldn’t find the woman on the Maidenfair half the time, either because she used Assassin Perks to turn invisible or somehow teleported away at times. Likely both. She otherwise kept to her crew and treated Simon’s group cordially, though he knew she had picked up on his intentions.

Otherwise, Lady Beatrice had proved a harsh taskmistress and regularly drilled the group on the deck at night on both tactics and Bujan. She had entrusted Simon with a sword specifically tailored to inflict heavy wounds on Aquatic, Beast, and Undead type creatures, which should be their most common foes, then ensured he familiarized himself with the group.

True to his size and standoffish demeanor, Barbas was a no-nonsense bear of a man whose might and defenses compensated for his deficient spellcasting. He was expected to serve as their frontliner, drawing enemy attention and engaging stronger foes in melee alongside Beatrice.

Meanwhile, Silence bore his name well. The man was both a mute and an introvert, to the point that he preferred to eat his meals away from the group in solitude. Simon only caught a glimpse of his face once during training, and all he learned was that the man was likely a native of Uyo from his skin’s darker tone. He was frighteningly quick, thanks to his passive Perks obtained from a secondary Class, and regularly laced his claws with poison. He would be serving as their tracker and scout.

Cubirah was the friendliest of the trio and the only one who tried to get along with Simon, perhaps because she had been one of Beatrice’s squires like him. She was level fifty-five, second only to Beatrice herself, and mostly favored supplementing her swordsmanship with buffs and disruptive effects.

Each and every one of these Templars was in their fifties when it came to levels, so Simon was mostly expected to serve as a healer and pack mule while they handled the heavy lifting. This suited him just fine. Sticking to the sidelines would let him hide his true abilities.

“Land!” the lookout in the crow’s nest shouted out for all to hear. “Mermaids on the shore!”

Simon and his companions looked to the north, where the shadow of an island appeared over the horizon under the cloudy, grey sky. An imposing mountain surrounded by jagged hills and sharp cliffs dominated the distant landscape.

Bujan and Mount Perun were in sight.

Originally an underpopulated backwater country mostly inhabited by elves, scalefolk, and goblinoids, the island had been colonized by men before the Doom, first as a haven for pirates preying on the trade between Illusea and the mainland, then as a sanctuary for refugees fleeing Mardok and then Gargauth’s rule. The island’s council chose to submit when threatened with violent takeover during Balzam’s Reformation, which allowed them to keep limited autonomy under a viceroy.

Bujan’s western and northern parts remained underpopulated for a reason that became clear the moment its shore came into view. Simon spotted three individuals he briefly mistook for shifters lounging on rocks until he noticed their fish tails.

It was his first time seeing a mermaid in the flesh, and the descriptions didn’t do them justice. The creatures resembled lovely, naked female humanoids from the waist up, albeit with squamous blue or red skin, long fins for hair falling down their backs, and gills on their throats. Their lower bodies, however, shifted into an iridescent scaled fish tail around their ‘lady parts’ rather than legs.

The first of the mermaids smiled sweetly and waved at the sailors upon noticing the Maidenfair. The second stared intently at Simon, and the third stared at Barbas while massaging her sex in a rather obscene invitation.

“Do not be deceived, Simon,” Beatrice warned him, her eyes checking the dark waters for fins peeking out of the waves. “The males must be waiting in ambush nearby to attack us. The females are mere lures.”

“They will end up skewered and roasted on a campfire if they try to bewitch us,” Barbas said. To his credit, the mermaids’ charm did not affect him in the slightest. “Our troops should have wiped out these vermin during the Reformation. What a wasted opportunity.”

“I would keep those thoughts to yourself, Ser,” ‘Silk’ warned him as she appeared on the deck out of nowhere, much to Simon’s annoyance. She clearly took delight in startling him. “They do understand our language.”

“Then we should kill them,” Beatrice said. “We were told not to leave witnesses alive.”

“We have an agreement with the locals, so they will keep quiet about our presence,” Silk reassured her. “I cannot speak for anyone else you find on the mountain, but scalefolk know better than to cross us.”

“And how did you secure their cooperation?” Cubirah asked curiously.

“With bribes, what else?” ‘Silk’s smile reminded Simon of Bert’s. “Scalefolk and humans aren’t so different. I daresay they’re more practical and down-to-earth than we are. They do not let nonsense such as friendship or morals get in the way of good business. You can learn to get along with them.”

“I rather doubt that,” Beatrice replied with a sneer, her finger pointing at rotten ship husks sitting on the nearby reefs. “This group has claimed its toll of victims.”

From what Simon had learned, mermaids and their male counterparts, the tritons, were aquatic cousins of the landbound scalefolk and among the most infamous pirates of the high seas. The females usually used enchanted songs or their bewitching appearance to lure ships to crash on their shores, while the males then sprang out of the water to devour the surviving sailors and loot their cargo. They were easier to deal with than demons and goblinoids, enough that they could coexist with local settlers, but Simon’s experience with Casval and Vouivre had taught him their kind was not to be easily trusted.

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The ability to speak was not a sign of humanity, only intelligence.

Either way, this group of mermaids didn’t sing or bother them as the Maidenfair navigated treacherous reefs towards a small cove located at the mountain’s foot. The Templar squad climbed down from the ship onto a small boat with bags of supplies.

“I bid thee goodbye here,” ‘Silk’ said upon dropping them off on land. “It was a pleasure ferrying you to this barren land.”

Beatrice snorted. “You served your purpose, smuggler, no more. You would do well to leave and ensure no one else sees your ship.”

“I shall.” ‘Silk’ spared Simon one last wicked smile. “I would wish you good luck, but we all know you won’t need it.”

Simon wasn’t sure what she meant by that and simply ignored her. He watched as the Maidenfair departed onto the sea with her, leaving them stranded at the foot of Mount Perun.

“A long ascent awaits us,” Beatrice said before giving her squad one last debrief. “You have each been entrusted with a teleportation gem tied to the Lighthouse. Our mission is to seize the artifact, then return to His Excellency. Anyone who discovers us must be eliminated. Do you all understand?” Everyone nodded in response. “Then let us proceed.”

What followed was a long and perilous journey.

Mount Perun stood a bit below fifteen thousand feet in height, and though the High Confessor had provided them with pre-Reformation maps of hiking trails within the lower areas, those quickly turned out to be severely outdated. Silence’s scouting expertise proved invaluable; with the Templar constantly finding safe paths for them to take as he advanced ahead of them. He would often return with blood on his claws, though no one asked for details.

Temperatures hovered above freezing during the day and plummeted below that into the night, with the cold growing more severe as they ascended. The group regularly drank frost resistance potions every four hours or so to more easily shoulder the weather. Everyone present was a professional focused on the mission first and foremost, so they mostly stuck to climbing without any small talk.

Unfortunately, the mountain was crawling with monsters.

Hardly an hour passed without horse-sized wolves, flying crystal-shaped ice elementals, or frozen undead corpses belonging to unlucky alpinists, beasts, or the occasional scalefolk trying to ambush them. Simon’s allies easily dispatched all comers thanks to their superior levels and abilities, but allowed him to finish off some of their foes to let him gain experience. He had reached level 6 in the Templar Class by the second day of their ascent.

Level 3 Templar Perk: Holy Blade (Active): You can imbue any melee weapon you wield with the Light element for additional damage. The effect is lost if the weapon leaves your hands.

Level 5 Templar Perk: Fundamentalism I (Passive): You are immune to Terror and fear-related effects.

Leveling up in Templar taught him two things: first of all, Vassal Classes were indeed pale imitations of the Noble ones they were based on. Six Templar levels barely let him mimic a fraction of what the Paladin Class could already do from the start.

Second, Lord Paimon’s old lessons about passive increase in base stats rang true. Simon noticed he had gained a point in almost all of his stats except Intelligence, which he received no points in, and two points in Vitality. He would check if those enhancements, while minor compared to those he obtained from wearing the Class outfit, carried over into the next reign. While Simon preferred to focus on leveling-up the Overlord, considering only its Perks carried through the reigns, strengthening his base stats would let him cover some deficiencies like his abysmal Agility.

Things proceeded smoothly until the second night, when Silence returned to their campfire from a scouting mission. The masked Templar communicated with Beatrice in hand signs, and though Simon couldn’t see much in the dark, whatever they discussed annoyed their leader.

“You let him go?” Beatrice asked, a scowl deepening on her face. “At the peak?”

“What’s going on?” Barbas asked curtly.

“Silence spotted a wizened hermit during his scouting,” Beatrice warned the group. “A ragged elf or a human, he couldn’t tell from the distance. Silence gave pursuit, but failed to catch him.”

Cubirah choked in disbelief. “He escaped Silence? Silence?!”

“It may be a ghost or malevolent spirit,” Beatrice suggested. “Silence said the hermit didn’t make any noise when he moved and disappeared whenever he tried to catch up, yet it kept trying to beckon him closer to the summit. We should expect an ambush of some sort there.”

Barbas scoffed beneath his helmet. “Let the dead come, if they dare. I will send them to the Light, and it will recognize its own.”

Simon hoped his confidence wasn’t misplaced.

The group’s respective Darksense Perkswere buzzing constantly by the third day as they approached the peak. The air grew more noxious as they eventually reached relatively flat ground covered in strangely aligned stalagmites carved with runes and other tribal signs.

“—”

Simon’s head perked up, which Beatrice immediately noticed. “What’s troubling you?”

“I sense something…” Simon looked up to the cloud-shrouded mountain summit. “A presence in my head.”

“—”

How strange. It resembled a Zodiac Fiend’s telepathic contact, except the thought broadcast was somehow silence rather than words. A void in the mind. Was the local demon sealed so tightly that its bindings muffled its messages? Simon wasn’t sure how to interpret this information.

“This peak is a weak Dungeon,” Cubirah noted. “I can barely feel the faint flow of miasma in the air.”

“According to His Excellency’s information, the peak used to house a troll tribe that His Majesty’s elite forces wiped out after they restricted access to the area,” Beatrice informed them. “Their corpses might have arisen.”

She was half-right: the group did find the remains of a ruined fort and frozen troll cadavers trapped in ice, but no undead nor ghost came to bother them. They then advanced past winding paths and began to climb vertical slopes leading to the summit.

“It’s too quiet,” Cubirah stated what was on everyone’s mind. “We haven’t been attacked in hours.”

Simon nodded in agreement. The sudden absence of monsters in the actual Dungeon area bothered him. Those creatures usually flocked to areas with miasma in the air, no matter how thin. Had Father thoroughly cleansed the area before their arrival when he secured the site?

“Silence says the area has been unoccupied for years,” Beatrice said, glancing at Simon. “Do you sense anything?”

“—”

“The presence of the Dark is getting stronger,” Simon warned his allies. They thankfully mistook his Overlord-related affinity for hearing demonic whispers to Light-granted divine insight. “It’s strange, though. I hear… nothing.”

“How can you hear nothing?” Barbas grunted in disbelief.

“I’m not sure… it’s like something tries to talk to me, but it sucks at my thoughts and empties my mind,” Simon admitted. “I’ve never experienced something like this before.”

Beatrice nodded warily. “Stay alert and warn us if anything changes.”

The rest of the climb to the summit took place in near-perfect silence, with not a whiff of wind to break it. It didn’t take long for the group to reach the highest point: a flat, mirror-smooth platform of snow roughly two hundred feet wide and surrounded by a sea of clouds and an empty horizon. Twelve stone pillars carved with runes, which Simon recognized as Elvish, surrounded a central block of ice.

A dark orange miasma crystal bearing the symbol of the Scales faintly shone within it.

That alone would have been cause for alarm, but Simon quickly noticed a worrying detail about the area on top of everything.

“It’s flat,” he said. “Too flat.”

“He’s right,” Cubirah said, pointing her sword at the horizon. “Look.”

Not only was the snow on the ground mirror-smooth as a perfectly leveled floor, but the clouds surrounding the peak seemed uniformly flat for miles on end. Some force seemed to keep everything suspended on the same layer.

The miasma in the air was too thin as well, the Dark aura radiating from the crystal too weak. The power radiating from the Minotaur and the Twin-Tailed Fish had been overwhelmingly noticeable. Was the seal still strong enough to keep the demon suppressed?

“A miasma crystal?” Cubirah inquired as she gazed into the ice. “It’s the biggest I’ve ever seen.”

“This must be the artifact we were sent to retrieve,” Barbas said upon spotting the crystal, his greatsword drawn. “Should we shatter the ice?”

Silence sketched a vaguely humanoid shape in the air with his hand, causing Beatrice to frown. “Silence says there’s a body trapped inside,” she said. “Some sort of golem, with the crystal imbedded in its chest.”

Simon scowled. Whereas the Twin-Tailed Fish had been reduced to a bodiless crystal and Asterion trapped in an unsuitable host, this particular Zodiac Fiend must have been sealed in its natural form.

“We risk freeing the creature if we break the ice,” Simon warned his allies.

“Not if we stick to the sealing method His Excellency suggested,” Beatrice replied. “Spread out and form a five-star formation around the ice pillar and cast your buffs.”

The group dropped their travel bags and spread out, with Beatrice bringing out a small, rune-sealed chest the size of a human’s head. From what she told Simon during the debriefing, this was a ‘sealing box’ meant to contain dangerous artifacts. Simon had no idea if that would be enough to contain a Zodiac Fiend crystal for long.

Either way, Simon followed Beatrice’s command by casting Lightspeed and Blessing of Light on himself. Barbas, Cubirah, and Beatrice applied additional prayers and buffs, while the mute Silence lengthened his claw-blades with some passive Perk.

“Let us repeat the psalms together,” Beatrice ordered, each and every one of the Templars present putting on their Class outfits and planting their weapon into the snow. “Oh stones of the ancient, servants of the Light, heed our call!”

“Oh stones of the ancient, servants of the Light, heed our call!” Simon shouted alongside the other Templars, their voices channeling powerful energies. A star-shaped seal appeared around the ice pillar, bright with mana.

“Seal this wicked tool of evil into your chosen receptacle!” they sang all at once, with the obvious exception of Silence, whose presence still helped contribute to the ritual. “Trap shadows in the bindings of the Light!”

And the shadows answered.

“—is it time?”

A voice cut through the void invading Simon’s mind, cold and inhuman, closer to an echo of steel than anything human.

“—you have come to seal me again, mortals?” There was no anger in this inhuman voice, no contempt; each word was utterly devoid of emotion. “Death’s embrace is all that you will find here—”

A wave of miasma burst from the ice, shattering the star on the ground and disrupting the Templars’ concentration. The air choked with evil, the miasma crystal shining with an otherworldly glow from inside its prison.

“—I have been here for a long time, pondering the truth—” said the voice. “—If it is the law of the universe that all things return to nothing—”

“What’s going on?!” Barbas inquired angrily as more waves of power followed, sending snow flying.

“The seal is faltering!” Cubirah warned, her voice firm yet tainted with dread. “Whatever demon lurks inside is banging at the door!”

“Stand your ground!” Beatrice ordered, her sword raised. “Simon, step back!”

Simon scowled as he realized what was happening; why this ‘Dungeon peak’ had been so devoid of monsters and miasma so close to its crystal. The Zodiac Fiend had methodically and patiently focused on stockpiling its power for centuries rather than spreading it out, slowly building it up for an ultimate effort.

“—then existence is a crime—”

All for the purpose of breaking its own jail cell from within.

“—and justice is annihilation.”

“Here it comes!” Beatrice warned.

The ice shattered, and the Zodiac Fiend burst forth.