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Vainqueur 20: Emperor Vainqueur
🕑 Added 2019-09-14 16:32:35 +0000 UTCThe vaults of the castle overflowed with treasure.
Deep in the depths of the dungeon, Manling Victor had found strong, metal doors so thick and huge, five dragons could have gone through them at once. After some fiery landscaping, Vainqueur and his minions had forced their way inside, only to be welcomed with the most beautiful sight in the world: an immense underground metal vault, overflowing with hills of gold and silver coins.
Vainqueur immediately jumped into his new treasure, swimming in the gold like a shark in the water. So many baby coins imprisoned below ground by that lich, and without a good dragon to take care of them!
“Minions!” Vainqueur shouted, while vicariously showering his belly with coins. “Grow my new hoard by adding the old one to it!”
“Sure, but… what the hell is that?”
Vainqueur, who focused on his new shinies alone, hadn’t noticed a second door on the other end of the vault. This one was made of ancient stone and sealed shut by heavy chains covered with ancient runes.
Was there a bigger vault behind it? This kept getting better and better!
“Oh, that’s written in old Ishfanian.” Sweet Chocolatine moved to examine inscriptions written on the stone. “‘Beyond these doors, closed by the blessed Inquisition of Mithras the Eversun, is the demesne of the Archdevil Isabelle, Mistress of Blades. May these bindings never break, or Ishfania shall know Hell Unending.’”
“Of course the Ishfanian Inquisition would build a fortress over a gate to Hell,” Minion Victor said. “The castle was meant to protect it from invaders coming from inside.”
“Isabelle is Brandon Maure’s mother,” Croissant the Useless said. He still hadn’t recovered from the traps Vainqueur sent him to scout through, with slashes and paint all over his body. “Furibon must have worked to open these doors over the century and supply his master with demonic armies to throw at Gardemagne.”
“What about the seal?” Manling Victor asked. “Will it hold?”
“The bindings have weakened from lack of maintenance, but I can repair them with Squid’s help...” Chocolatine’s face beamed. “Oh, oh, why don’t we open them ourselves? That way we can slaughter demons as they come out. More money, more meat.”
Vainqueur’s chief of staff didn’t share her enthusiasm. “I really don’t like the undertones of tricking an entire species into getting killed one at the time by entering a closed room, even demons.”
“But organized slaughter is okay if it is done to fiends!” Chocolatine protested.
“No, it’s not! And does Your Majesty really want to give an army of would-be robbers direct access to their hoard?”
No. That would be like the mountain, except with winged goats rather than manlings. “Wolfling Chocolatine, you will keep these doors closed,” Vainqueur ordered. “You can still use sheep to lure them in your backward village.”
The werewolf pouted in disappointment, while minion Victor rejoiced. “Wolflings, you go fetch that squid and reinforce these doors,” Vainqueur ordered. “I will not have my vault open to the paupers any longer than necessary. Kobold Rangers, go ask Troll Barnabas if my crown is ready. Manling Victor, you stay here to discuss my class planning.”
The minions left with haste to attend his needs, leaving Vainqueur alone with his most beloved treasures: his hoard, and his chief of staff. “Now that the evil Furibon has been destroyed, we can focus on what truly matters to me,” the dragon said, burying himself in gold until only his head was above it. “That sweet [Stipend] provides me with more gold the higher my level. Find a way to increase that amount.”
“The obvious way would be to level up further, Your Majesty,” Victor stated the simple solution. “Maybe a magic item or specific Perk can increase the money you receive, though.”
“I leave you to find the proper solution, Manling Victor. You are my class advisor.”
“Your Majesty, about magic items.” His chief of staff cleared his throat. “I suggest you let the minions keep and use your non-dragon sized magical items, as you allowed me.”
“Minion, Furibon is sealed forever, and the castle is mine.” He had already put the crown recovered from Furibon around his finger, like a ring. “There is no need to spread my wealth around. And speaking of loaned treasure, where are the sun bracers and the fireball pendant I gave you?”
The minion fell silent for a second, embarrassed. “Well, Furibon caught me by surprise before I could equip myself…”
“You should be more wary next time, and wear my items proudly,” Vainqueur chided his lackey. “It pleases me to always have my treasures in sight. It reassures and looks good on me.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m just saying, now our adventurer company is in charge of the barony, we may need a good police force, and minions with magical items will be more effective.”
Vainqueur squinted at his minion. “The barony?”
“I told Your Majesty before, Gardemagne promised that whoever destroyed Furibon could lay claim to the surrounding lands, which is called a barony. I had Savoureuse send a message through a homing pigeon, so you should officially be named Baron of Murmurin once the adventurer guild is notified. And if they refuse, well, It’s not like they can do anything about who owns the place. Murmurin is so far away from Gardemagne, so full of monsters, and so close to Maure’s territory that not even suicidal adventurers will dare dislodge us.”
“The Barking of Murmurin,” Vainqueur corrected, before explaining his logic to his confused lackey. “Baron King Vainqueur. Barking Vainqueur.”
The minion gave him an empty stare.
Vainqueur suddenly realized the problem with the name. “Kingron? Kingaron?” Nothing fit! “Is there a title that could include both? King of the Albain Mountains and Baron of Murmurin does not sound melodious.”
“I think Emperor is above King, Your Majesty, since empires are bigger than kingdoms. So it should cover everything.”
Really? And all this time he just called himself a king because he thought there was nothing above it! “Minion, I shall henceforth be known as His Majesty Vainqueur Knightsbane, First of his Name, Great Calamity of this Age, and Emperor of Murmurin and the Albain Mountains.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty Emperor Vainqueur.”
As he heard the sentence, Vainqueur realized that never before had he loved a word he never knew existed.
“It displeases me to spread my hoard around and out of my sight,” said the dragon, “Asks Barnabas to create the minions weapons; until then, I agree to loan the kobolds weapons, so the beauty of my hoard encourages them to work, but only for a time. You alone are worthy to wield my sacred treasures in battle, Minion Victor. You are the only one I can fully trust not to lose them.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” the minion said, without any pitiful tone this time. Come to think of it, Vainqueur didn’t remember him ever using such a warm voice before.
“As a celebration for my promotion to Emperor, I declare today to be the Vainqueur Day. Every year, we will rejoice over the defeat of Furibon, who was evil and had to be destroyed. A great feast of cattle will be held, and I will burn a wood puppet of Furibon before an adoring crowd while they cheer me.” Maybe he would get a treasure out of it. “Also, the minions will build a statue of me in that werewolf village, so my subjects can be in awe of my royal person. I want a bigger statue than the gods in your temples.”
“Your Majesty, holidays and public works are good, but what about actual laws? I think Murmurin's inhabitants want to know how they will govern themselves now that you are the top dragon in town.”
Vainqueur thought about it, and the first direction became obvious. “Minion Victor, this experience, and the cruelty of your manling king made me realize that there is no greater crime than separating a dragon from his hard-won hoard. In my magnanimity, I declare my first commandment to be: no taxes, ever.”
“No taxes, ever?”
“No treasure tax of any kind will ever be levied in my empire. Taxes are evil. Instead, I will take a daily tribute of cattle in reward of my enlightened dragon leadership.”
“I think Your Majesty invented tax havens way ahead of their time. What about reducing the tax on my one one-tenth fee then?”
“That is different,” Vainqueur replied, incensed by the Minion’s base greed. “That is not a tax since you are selling my non-shiny possessions on my behalf. The one one-tenth is a reward. If you want to get rich and impress females to breed with you, build yourself a hoard by working hard.”
Manling Victor let out a sigh. “I guess levies and mindless undead labor will cover for public service.”
“My second commandment will be: no lead. Lead is the work of Furibon and forbidden until the end of time. Everyone found smuggling lead in the lands of Emperor Vainqueur shall be eaten. Unless the lead is sickened gold, in that case, it shall be cured and added to my hoard for eternal safekeeping.”
“Copper for plumbery then.”
“My third commandment is,” Vainqueur stared at his minion dead in the eyes, “Minion Victor, do the thing.”
His lackey blinked, the honor overwhelming him. “Do the thing?”
“The non-dragon thing,” Vainqueur clarified. “I have better things to do than manage the life of wolves, minions, and manlings, like counting my new coins or killing liches. I am a dragon, I do not care how minions run their lives so long as they do as I say when I demand it. So, Manling Victor, I now promote you to my Grand Dragon Vizier and doer of the thing.”
“So, I keep doing what I always did, doing the boring stuff while you enjoy the rewards.”
“Do not abuse your privilege.”
[Congratulations! By self-promoting yourself to Emperor, establishing your ‘imperial authority’ over the Murmurin region, and possessing enormous personal power worthy of such a title, not only did you earn a level in [Noble], but your Noble Class has evolved into the [Emperor] Class! Warning: you will lose the benefits of the [Emperor] Class’ Perks if you cannot defend your title from challengers and doubters; you will regain these benefits only if you fend off naysayers.]
[+30 HP, +10 SP, +1 AGI, +1 INT, +1 CHA, +1 LCK!]
[Your [Old Money], [Snobbery], and [Aristoradar] Perks have changed!]
[[Old Money] changed to [Born in the Purple]: Your chances of gaining treasures after killing monsters are tripled.]
[[Snobbery] changed to [For the Emperor]: When you lead them in battle, your soldiers and vassals gain a stat and moral bonus proportional to your Charisma.]
[[Aristoradar] changed to [Dynasty]: You can grant a [Noble] level to others at will. You can only grant only one level per person after which, they must level up the class on their own.]
Vainqueur thought it nice that the system recognized his authority, but now that he had his sweet stipend, that class interested him less. At least the level and that [Born in the Purple] Perk would increase his gains.
Thinking of gains… “Manling Victor, has this misunderstanding with your duchess’ untimely demise been cleared with your species?”
“I dunno.” The minion shrugged. “It should resolve itself once the news of Furibon’s demise reaches them, or else it never will for anything. Your Majesty wants to go on an adventure again?”
“One with a princess,” Vainqueur said. “Bragging Day will arrive soon, and I need a princess to parade as the crown jewel of my hoard.”
“Your Majesty already brags all the time,” Minion Victor replied. “Every day is Bragging Day.”
“Yes, but not to dragons,” Vainqueur said, his minion frowning when he mentioned his amazing species. “This is Bragging Day. Now that my hoard is cured of lead sickness, it has grown big enough to brag about to the rest of my kind; but a true hoard is not complete without a princess caught in the wild to showcase. I want to hold a Bragging Day here in two moons, so find me a well-paid quest with a princess.”
“Is Your Majesty going to eat the princess?” the minion asked worryingly. “I know you said you wouldn’t, but… if this is a special occasion...”
“Minion, I am not a savage. I will keep it until the end of the Bragging Day, then I release her so she grows into a queen, and makes more princesses. So will continue the cycle of life. I am a dragon mindful of preserving the wildlife.”
“Okay good.” His minion breathed in relief. “How many dragons are we talking about? No offense, but Your Majesty is already a lot for us mortals to handle.”
Vainqueur thought about it long and deep. He would invite every member of his kind whom he had remained in contact with, so he could showcase his wealth in a great show of dominance.
“No more than two hundred,” Vainqueur said, the minion losing all colors on his skin. “You should prepare the cattle already. It would be very miserly of me not to show my wealth by welcoming them with a great feast.”
“Two… two hundred…”
“I know, so few, but we dragons enjoy our alone time too much to stay in touch,” Vainqueur explained. “Most of my kindred are hunting princesses in the north, in lands so cold I freeze thinking of them.”
The minions returned with both that strange squid who worshipped the ground Manling Victor walked on and Minion Barnabas. The troll struggled to carry a crown, helped by the kobolds.
The second he saw it, Vainqueur immediately fell in love with the trinket.
It was the most beautiful crown he had ever set his eyes on; a golden, dragon-sized diadem with three miniature copies of Vainqueur rising from the front of the circlet, surrounding an enormous ruby. Four ivory horns were mounted on the edges, giving it a strong, yet elegant look; it would mesh so well with his own natural horns.
“This is a [Crown of Dragon Authority], Yer Majesty,” Barnabas said. “+10 Charisma, and a whole host of benefits.”
“Mine!” Vainqueur’s hands greedily reached for it, putting it on his head at once. The crown fit right around his black horns, and the dragon immediately looked at his reflection in his hoard’s coins.
Pure perfection!
Which was him!
“I am Emperor Vainqueur Knightsbane, owner of all I see!” Vainqueur boasted, the minions falling to their knees. “Praise me! Cheer me up!”
“Vainqueur, best dragon!" "Vainqueur, best dragon!" "Vainqueur, best dragon!”
-----------------------------------
Victor walked out of the Castle of Murmurin—or rather, the ruins left standing—with his throat still sore from the shouting, and only one thought in mind.
“Fffffff…”
They were doomed.
Two hundred dragons! Two hundred dragons and he would brag to them how being an adventurer made him richer! How could that not backfire!
That and Vainqueur was steadily getting smarter. He had noticed Victor had sacrificed his items, and even if the adventurer had been able to deflect his attention, he needed to replace them as soon as possible.
The notification of his new level gains did a bit to alleviate his fears.
[Congratulations! For landing the coup de grace on an ancient lich on behalf of your dragon master, and cunningly trapping the soul in your scythe, you gained two levels in [Monster Squire] and two levels in [Reaper]! +90 HP, + 20 SP, +2 STR, + 4 VIT, +4 SKI, +4 AGI, +3 INT, +3 CHA, +3 LCK! You gained the [Mook Promotion] and [Necromancy II Perks].]
[Mook Promotion: You can cause your minions to evolve into stronger forms, if your level is higher than the evolved monster’s theoretical danger rating and if hidden conditions are met. Promoted minions keep their previous class levels.]
[Necromancy II: You can learn and cast Necromancy spells up to Tier II. This replaces Necromancy I.]
[By consuming the soul of a powerful lich, your [Killer Scythe] has been upgraded into a [Killer Scythe +]. +25 percent chance of inflicting critical hits.]
Holy hell, those growths… he had lucked out today. At this rate, he would catch up to the Shining Knight in no time flat.
[Warning: You have reached the level 30 class ceiling. You will no longer be able to gain additional levels until you use a [Crest]. You can still gain perks through special deeds, but your experience gains are set to zero.]
Huh?
What, there were level ceilings? He needed to bribe the system to get into the middle class? Damn, it was just like on Earth.
For once, though, the system gave him more explanation.
[[Crest] are powerful but rare items which allow someone to break the level 30 class ceiling. [Heroic Crests] are even rarer and more powerful [Crests], which are needed to break the level 60 class ceiling. Afterward, you are free to level up to 99, which will allow you to access Valhalla and attempt Apotheosis.]
Valhalla. The final challenge. Only twelve creatures survived it and walked out as the deities of Outremonde.
Still, he had no idea where to find a [Crest], or even what it looked like. Questions for later. There was something more urgent than levels or preparing for that Bragging Day.
“Furibon,” Victor spoke up at his scythe, the ghastly face of the lich materializing on the blade’s edge. “Furibon, are you there? Furibon! Furi?”
“What?” the lich whispered back with an irritated tone.
He could indeed understand him. “What is that deal with the iPad?” The lich’s silence made him roll his eyes. “The Apple of Knowledge.”
“Why would I tell you? I hate you, and everything that dragon stands for. I wish you all die.”
“Thank you, you are so kind. Now as for why…” Victor gave the lich a sly, cruel smirk. “Because otherwise, I am giving up that scythe to Vainqueur, and you will spend eternity as part of his hoard. You will have to support his insanity until the end of times, watching him shower in gold in your castle’s vaults, and sprout nonsense until you go mad.”
The lich’s horrified silence was golden. “You are a monster,” Furibon said. “You look weak and innocent, but you are a monster.”
“Humanoid/Dragon type,” Victor confirmed. “Now tell me, before I go through with it. You know I will.”
Furibon let out an angry sigh but hated Vainqueur too much to refuse. “My Master, Brandon Maure, to use your crass language… backed the wrong horse. He assisted the fomors in their war with Gardemagne, so he could seize southern territories, but his side lost. Now, with the fomors broken, Gardemagne has many adventurers and crusaders, and no enemy to fight.”
“So he’s afraid Gardemagne will attack him next.”
“Prydain and the Dark Forest, the strongholds of the remaining fomors, are too dangerous for Gardemagne to threaten, but not Ishfania. With his losses during the conflict, my master no longer has the forces to face the full might of his neighbors.”
“Okay, so he’s desperate to find a way to turn the tide and save his remaining territories.” Using the Scorchers to distract adventurers, trying to summon reinforcements from Hell... “Let me guess, he thinks weapons from other worlds will solve his problem?”
“We always researched the technology from the world of Earth, whenever we could find it. In many ways, it completes our own magic. King Maure offered great rewards to Claimed willing to share knowledge with him, and one day that dark woman brought him one wielding the Apple of Knowledge.”
That tale sounded very familiar. “Is that woman’s name Lavere?”
“No. That woman’s name is Melodieuse. She is poison in human form, a beautiful, deadly flower who kills on touch.”
Ah. Too bad. Victor guessed not all conspiracies were connected. “So, that Claimed, who probably worked for the biggest weapon manufacturer of my world, offered his services to Brandon Maure in exchange for power and money. He basically just changed employers. Then, how did his digital notebook end up in Haudemer?”
“Digital?” The lich shrugged. “He grew what you would call a conscience. Which I call weakness. The coward fled to Gardemagne, taking the Apple with him, and when Maure's human agents killed him around Haudemer, they found monsters had already stolen the device.”
Blessed be the Kobold Rangers.
“I could not unlock the magical passwords protecting the forbidden knowledge, but Lord Maure has powerful allies, including Claimed of his own. In time, the knowledge will be his, and you, no, all of Outremonde, will learn fear and fire.”
Yes, yes. As far as threats went, Victor had heard better. The possibility of a demonic dictator gaining access to plane schematics was worrying though; Maure may not fully replicate the original designs without the necessary infrastructure, but Victor himself had created a poor man’s aircraft. It could be done.
He would have to warn Gardemagne or convince Vainqueur to somehow deal with Maure before he could threaten the continent. “And the woman? What does she want? Where does she come from?”
“I do not know, I do not care. I serve my master as you do yours, I do not ask questions.”
There were so many wrong things in that sentence, but the lich didn’t seem to lie. Or if he did, Victor had no way to check. The squire suspected another power supported Maure from the shadows to strike at Gardemagne, but for now, he could only guess whom.
Oh well. He would send warning alongside the “imperial declarations.”
The Kobolds Rangers exited the building behind him, drawing him out of his thoughts. Blue carried a sword that Victor immediately recognized.
“Treasure!” Vainqueur Junior barked.
“Did the sword talk?” Blue asked, examining it more closely.
“A mimic?” Red examined it, noticing lips on the pommel. “Why didn’t it bite you?”
“Because Junior is a good mimic,“ Victor said, the sword purring in response, “Who is a good treasure? Who is a good treasure? That is you!”
As he observed the minions, Victor felt an instinct stirring inside him. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he had the intuition his [Mook Promotion] Perk could work on both the mimic and Red. Not on the other kobolds though; either their evolved form was stronger than him, or more likely, Red had earned more combat experience as the group’s leader and thus fulfilled hidden conditions.
“Red, come here for a second, I want to try something,” Victor ordered. “Blue, give me Junior.”
He patted the dutiful Red on the head and took Junior from Blue’s hand. The second he touched the two creatures, the Perk activated. Both of them were swallowed by a bright light and transformed as Victor watched.
Red grew into a bipedal, humanoid saurian who almost reached Victor’s own height. His features changed into a cross between a raptor-like dinosaur and a kobold, with retractable blades attached to his arms. A red scarf appeared out of nowhere around his neck, and on a closer look, Victor realized it was part of the body. The way it stood, Red reminded him clearly of a reptilian version of the sentai heroes he had taken inspiration from.
“Style?” Red was almost brought to tears, as he admired his new features, especially the blades. “I have style, and I am grown!”
The mimic though…
Never before had Victor seen a more disturbing horror. The mere sight caused the kobolds to ignore Red’s transformation and instead cower behind Victor.
He had to drop the sword before it could finish the transformation, as it grew considerably. The misshapen entity in front of him was the size of a horse, with a main, spherical body carried by six, handed legs. The skin’s texture reminded Victor of stone, and could easily camouflage as it.
The monster had a mouth big enough to swallow a man whole, sharp teeth, and a sickeningly long tongue. Finally, a beautiful, clearly magical sword sprung from the main body, like a fish’s lure.
By burying itself in the ground, the creature could easily look like a sword in the stone, an Excalibur tempting the foolish. This creature was the next evolutionary step towards the complete decimation of adventurers.
[Kobold Red has been promoted into a Raptor Ranger.]
[Mimic Vainqueur Junior has been promoted into an Excalitrap.]
“Sword treasure!” the monstrous abomination barked with a strong, terrifying voice.
Victor Dalton. Pokemon Master, and Grand Vizier of Dragon Switzerland.
At least they would help keep the peace. Now, first order of business, buy new bracers and necklace to replace those he lost in Haudemer. He already felt bad lying to Vainqueur about them, and—
Wait.
He was feeling bad about lying to the dragon? Not actually fearing for his life for purely pragmatic reasons, but feeling ashamed of it?
Come to think of it, even if Vainqueur had made it clear he would never let Victor out of his service, the adventurer wondered if it was truly such a bad thing. He had become the region’s regent in all but name, gained many levels, made friends, albeit difficult ones, and gained a powerful protector. Vainqueur did save him from Furibon after all, even if he would have picked a fight with the lich anyway.
Was...
Was he actually starting to like that dragon?
Comments
Seadrake
Stockholm Syndrome kicking in hard.
