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The Hundred Reigns 81: The Elf Conspiracy (8)
🕑 Added 2026-01-09 15:02:01 +0000 UTC-----
Simon boarded an airship for Lord Albert’s holdings the moment he left the Goetia Research Facility.
Leonard and Meredith were a bit surprised to see him return without the Malphas’, whereas Belzemine looked crestfallen. She understood exactly what had happened to her fellow elf and his daughter, which shook her to her core.
“I’ll tell you everything on our way to our destination,” Simon warned them. “There’s no time to waste.”
He couldn’t allow the Cobweb to hold Eole. At best, they would sell her into slavery; and at worst, they would deliver her to Vouivre and let her bind a Zodiac Fiend to her service. He refused to let his friend fall into her claws, or allow the devastation that would follow.
Lauriane thankfully lent him a crew and a number of soldiers alongside a decree granting him the authority to arrest Lord Albert for his crimes. His holdings were located on the Magvolian coast—which made sense for a smuggling den—less than half a day’s flight away from the Goetia Research Center.
He hoped he wasn’t too late.
“Meredith, Leonard,” Simon said once he gathered his retainers in the airship’s private salon. “It is time for you to learn the truth.”
Meredith scowled. “The Malphas family has been arrested, haven’t they?”
“Indeed,” Simon confirmed. “I have been working with Imperial Intelligence to root out a spy ring of traitors to the state. Patriate Malphas counted among them. He and his daughter are currently in custody under accusations of sharing sensitive information with Illusea.”
The news of the Merchant’s demise couldn’t be allowed to leave the Goetia Research Facility, and he didn’t want to add an additional burden onto Belzemine’s heart. Her guilt and anguish were already written all over her face.
“I knew something was off about them,” Meredith said. “But I didn’t expect the Lord-Treasurer to betray the empire.”
“His treachery runs deep,” Simon replied. “We are now going to arrest another traitor, Lord Albert, and recover my retainer Eole. Our priority will be to extract her alive. You are authorized to execute anyone present should they resist arrest.”
“Lord Albert would be foolish to do so, especially with Lady Firewand present,” Leonard pointed out. “He is a minor lord with few forces to his name. Opposing the War Party would be suicide.”
“Fools are always more common than we think,” Simon mused. “Now leave me with Lady Firewand. I have something to discuss with her.”
His other retainers excused themselves, and Simon found himself alone with a clearly crushed Belzemine. She didn’t even dare to meet his eyes or face him, instead staring at the floor with immense remorse.
“You feel guilt over betraying your kin and homeland to me?” Simon inquired. “Even though it was all part of my plan from the start?”
The silence he received was an answer in itself. Belzemine had lost her brands and received a golden opportunity to leave for Illusea, yet she instead chose to betray them to the Overlord. She chose to be his willing slave.
Belzemine must have looked exactly the same way prior to taking her own life in the previous reign.
The mere thought chilled Simon to the core… but that was then, when she was alone and directionless. He could still salvage this and save her from making a terrible mistake. He could bring her back from the brink, tell her what she needed to hear to cling to life.
And he hated himself for what he would have to tell her; something that disgusted him to his very core.
“You don’t need to feel guilt over this, Agnes,” Simon said kindly. “Remorse is for those who could have affected an outcome, and there was no chance their plan would have succeeded. I had foreseen all outcomes. Disobedience wouldn’t have changed anything.”
This time, Belzemine dared to look up at him, and what he saw in her eyes… That begging prayer for absolution, like a beaten dog searching for her master’s approval, was perhaps the saddest thing he had ever seen.
Why do we have to do this again and again? Simon thought grimly. Oh right, because this is the Crimson Throne’s curse.
He could change his future, but not four hundred years of suffering.
“The brands are never truly gone, and I can reapply yours at will,” Simon lied through his teeth. “They will reappear one day, once I am ready to assume my throne with you at my side. Freedom is an illusion.”
It was a lie, but one Belzemine wanted to believe in; a gentle reassurance that she hadn’t betrayed her homeland out of her own free will, that it wouldn’t have made any difference, and that she had no real agency.
“I will never let you go, Agnes,” he told her. “Do not worry. You will belong to me forever.”
She was brought to tears, and softly said three words so low he could barely hear them.
“I love you.”
She sounded so defeated when she said that, so utterly crushed, that Simon didn’t have the heart or strength to answer her. He just stared at this pitiful creature with all the compassion he could muster.
Belzemine loved the Overlord in spite of everything. Such was the power they held over her for centuries.
I swear you will be free one day, Simon promised himself. Even from yourself.
—--
They reached Lord Albert’s holding by night.
The man ruled over a small keep atop a low hill overlooking the port hamlet of Hellmouth, a tiny fishing town near a creek facing the Dragonsea. The settlement was hardly a fraction of the size of Amnadiel’s own port, which Simon guessed made it a haven for smugglers wishing to avoid imperial attention.
However, he immediately noticed a quaint oddity through the porthole during their descent: a large, dark carrack ship with four masts, black tattered sails, and a dark blue hull. A golden skull figurehead glimmered at its front, and a flag representing a crimson bat fluttered atop it. It seemed completely crewless and so ancient Simon wondered how it could even float, but he quickly sensed the Dark radiating from its old wood.
The whole carrack felt like a floating Dungeon.
“I recognize that flag,” Leonard said, his voice quieter with wariness. “The Ravenous.”
“The Necromancer’s ship?” Simon scowled. He hadn’t expected that. “Isn’t it a crime in Endymion to open one’s port to pirates?”
“It is, but he could have stormed the port by force,” Meredith replied.
“We would be seeing more burning buildings and corpses in the streets if that were the case,” Leonard pointed out. “We could strike with the airship. The Ravenous is said to ferry hordes of undead, but we could sink it and capture the Necromancer with Lady Firewand’s help.”
Simon considered the proposal before setting it aside. “Our priority is to arrest Lord Albert and recover Eole,” he said. “There’s a risk the latter is aboard the Ravenous, in which case a bombardment would kill her, and we don’t know what the Necromancer is doing here at all. We will investigate first.”
Simon had died enough times to learn that picking fights with individuals whose strength he hadn’t fully assessed yet always led to disaster. Shabram’s intel put Amadeus Voltobauta at level fifty or so, but this was based on guesswork and she had been wrong before. Not to mention Silk or high-level Cobweb operatives could be present at the location as well.
There were too many unknowns.
“Change of plans; raise House Malphas’ flag and send light signals to ask for permission to land so they’ll think we’re still with the traitors,” Simon ordered his retainers. “Forward a message back to Lauriane and ask for reinforcements too.”
He didn’t want to start a battle now, but the threat of force should be enough to cause everyone to listen.
Since Hellmouth lacked the infrastructure for airship landings, the group had no choice but to have it hover in front of the gatehouse, bring down the ramp, and climb down. No horns nor trumpets heralded their arrival, but a couple of guards did arrive to greet them at the gatehouse.
“I am Simon Magnos, Baron of Whispermire,” Simon introduced himself when he and his soldiers climbed down from the airship. “Where is Lord Albert? I must speak with him urgently.”
“He is inside, holding the auction,” one of the guards replied. They didn’t seem surprised to have visitors coming on an airship in the middle of the night. “It’s still ongoing if you’re here to participate.”
The auction? Simon’s blood ran cold in his veins. They didn’t dare…
“Firewand, Meredith, Leonard, with me,” Simon decided angrily before turning to his loaned soldiers. “The rest of you, surround the keep and take the airship up. If we’re not back within the hour, blow everything to smithereens."
“Wait, what are you–” the keep guards protested, only for Leonard to summon his Dreadnought armor and threaten them with his sword. Being Classless, they were quick to surrender.
Simon had Agnes cast her Aegis buff on him and his retainers, just in case, then walked past the empty gatehouse and into the keep. The entrance was almost entirely deserted, likely because a small lord like Albert could only afford a handful of men-at-arms and he needed all of them further inside to keep the peace.
“I hear voices ahead,” Meredith warned him, having put on her Class outfit. “In the feasting hall.”
“Be quiet and prepare for a fight,” Simon warned his allies. They stepped through the keep’s antechambers and arrived in front of half-opened great wooden doors. He heard a singing man’s voice echo beyond the threshold.
“Five thousand golden coins.” Simon didn’t recognize that voice, but the man spoke in the common Endymian tongue with a heavy Valnese accent. “For the kish.”
“Five thousand.” Simon froze upon recognizing her voice. “And one.”
“Are you set on mocking me, milady?” the stranger replied. “Must we keep doing this all night? You could at least increase the price by more than one, you miser.”
“If you are wise, pirate, you will stop trying my patience.“
This is bad. Simon grit his teeth as he pushed the door open and walked in. The sight beyond the threshold put a dark scowl on his face.
Lord Albert’s feasting hall wasn’t particularly large nor imposing, yet its benches and tables welcomed a few dozen people. Most appeared to be merchants, nobles, or other members of high society, but two figures stood apart from the rest.
The first was a tall, lean figure straight out of a circus show; a man with a long dark cloak reaching his feet and dressed in a gilded mail of gold-plated ribs tightly bound together with long sleeves, velvet gloves, dark pants, and boots. Two cruel, red-rimmed crimson eyes peered through a skull-shaped mask beneath a dandyish feathered hat. This had to be the infamous Necromancer, Amadeus Voltobauta.
The other was Vouivre.
How did she come here from Telluria so fast? Simon wondered. He recalled that Silk had seemingly been able to cross the Dragonsea in a record time too. Does the Cobweb have access to long-range teleportation magic or the like?
These two’s presence alone were concerning, but a look at the small stage on the other end of the hall left him outright nauseous. A rotund, small man Simon recognized as Lord Albert stood there alongside Ludwig Bert, the man he met in the last reign who might or might not be the Prince of Spiders himself. A cadre of guards kept watch on a small group of chained shifters.
One of them was Eole.
The sight of her made Simon’s blood boil with anger. Her fair skin was covered in bruises, her wings bound by chains to prevent her from flying away, and her mouth gagged to stop her from singing. These barbarians had gone so far as to strip her to ‘showcase the goods.’ Her eyes lit up with hope the moment she saw him, but the guards grabbed her when she tried to move his way.
She thought she would be helping people, Simon lamented as multiple eyes turned his way. Lord Albert’s skin paled when he saw him too. You are going to suffer for this, bastard. You will beg for death and see that mercy denied.
Either way, this was bad. Vouivre would be a tremendously dangerous foe on her own—she had murdered Thalas on her own, where it took nearly all of Simon’s retainers to do so in a previous reign—but the Prince of Spiders and the Necromancer’s presence on top of it complicated matters. What did the latter even want with Eole?
“L–Lord Simon?!” Lord Albert gasped. “W-why are you…”
“Baron Magnos,” ‘Ludwig Bert’ said with a sinister smile. Simon could almost taste the Dark radiating from him. “Color me surprised. I didn’t expect you to find out so soon. You truly are a prophet.”
“Magnos?!” a few of the people present gasped. Vouivre squinted with reptilian eyes at Belzemine upon spotting her and Voltobauta rested his head on his hand in interest.
Simon ignored and simply glared at Ludwig Bert. He quickly considered a dozen plans and a hundred strategies for how to handle this, but each had their downsides.
I’m sorry, Eole, he apologized in his mind. The only way he could think of saving both this reign and her life meant he would have to break her heart. You’re not going to like this, but you’ll live.
“You have stolen something that belongs to me, Spider,” Simon told ‘Bert.’ “Did you think I would not reclaim my retainer?”
“If I recall, you freed this slave and put her back on the market. Surely you cannot consider this a theft.” The bastard showed absolutely no fear whatsoever. “Besides, if you want to keep your little… overseas allegiances from the likes of your brother and stepmother, I would take the door and forget what you’ve seen here.”
Simon exploded into laughter. It seemed that for however vast the Cobweb’s network might have been, it didn’t extend inside the Goetia Research Facility.
“You don’t get it, do you?” Simon taunted him, before uttering the code phrase he used in Valne to first meet with the organization. “The emperor over the sea told me that the blue widow spun a pretty web of pain.”
That took Bert aback. His eyes widened ever so slightly, though he quickly corrected his expression. “You’re with the imperial intelligence agency,” he said, glancing at Albert. “I see how it is. A counterinfiltration. Smart.”
“That is right,” Simon replied, ignoring the confused looks Eole sent him. “I have an airship parked outside and more troops on their way here to arrest your pet lord and all these traitors. If you’re smart, you’ll surrender the girl back to me and run while you can.”
Although his words spooked most of the audience, Voltobauta simply chuckled and Vouivre scoffed arrogantly. “Is that supposed to frighten me?” the latter asked dismissively. “Threats are for those who cannot back their words with actions, little princeling. I haven’t crossed an entire continent to leave empty-handed.”
“The kish is my only lead to a dear friend’s whereabouts, so pardon me if I refuse your proposition,” Voltobauta replied. “I can lend her back to you after she tells me what I want though, for a fee.”
“Outside and on their way is not here,” Ludwig Bert added. “You cannot take all of us head-on, even with Firewand, and I can slice the kish’s throat before you can even blink. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t care about her.”
He was right, the bastard. Vouivre’s presence alone would lead to a massacre at best, and Silk was never far from the Prince of Spiders’ side. Simon’s best option would be to teleport away with Eole and his retainers back to Frightwall, but he needed to be within thirty feet of them to do so.
“You underestimate me,” Simon replied without showing weakness. “Even if you’re confident about escaping your reckoning, I can make life very difficult for you all. Starting with your hidden manalith mine in Whispermire, Spider.”
Bert’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. “There are always more,” he replied with slight amusement. “But if you truly insist on making such a fuss over the kish girl… why don’t you participate in the auction, Lord Simon?”
The gall of this man briefly left Simon speechless, with Meredith coughing in outrage. “You want to extort His Highness?”
“This is an auction,” Ludwig Bert replied unabashedly. “If he can outbid our other potential buyers, I see no issue with letting you leave with the kish. I will even personally arrange your safety until you leave these walls.”
A single glance at Vouivre told Simon this was an empty promise. The dragon wouldn’t let them leave with Eole without a fight. She needed her to get to the Zodiac Fiend.
However, an idea quickly crossed Simon’s mind. One that would let them all escape with their lives and teach all these fools a lesson.
“Interesting,” Simon replied, Leonard and Meredith both looking aghast at his response. “Very well. I’ll play your game.”
“Your Highness, you cannot be serious,” Leonard protested. “With Firewand at our side, we could incinerate them all in an instant.”
“He knows he can’t,” Ludwig Bert replied with a smug look that made Simon want to punch his face in. “However, I must remind Your Highness that all of our guests here have deep pockets and brought small fortunes to this gathering. I do not doubt the Imperial Intelligence’s resources, but I would need more than a promise to redeem your payment.”
“It is true I have no large fortune to spend tonight… but I happen to hold a precious piece of information,” Simon replied with a chuckle. “One more valuable than anything all your guests put together can bring to the table.”
“Oh?” Bert leaned forward with slight curiosity. “Such as?”
Simon smirked ear to ear. “I know the Fourth Overlord’s real identity.”
------
Comments
DeadSlime
Poor Belzemine has a the worst case of Stockholm syndrome in existence.
Nordbard
Mon-Fri
Aaron
This is top tier stuff. Probably my favorite new fiction right now. Anyone know the release schedule?
Pradian
Vouvire sure talk a lot for someone who ran away from Louis and Daessin.
