Free Web NovelHe woke up from a dream of summer in the depths of winter.
The world was cold and dark, an endless void of miasma whose chill bit all the way to the soul. A single notification illuminated the shadows coiled around him, with bloody words writing themselves on a ghastly screen.
This is the Twenty-First of your Hundred Reigns.
You have earned the Title of Simon the Bird.
The Bird: You wasted so much time hanging out with birds, you might as well become one. You can transform into a large raven.
His predecessors did not, in fact, like the last reign.
“Good,” Simon said in defiance. “Your anger is my pleasure, oh dishonorable Overlords.”
Or at least Simon assumed so, since the Crimson Throne did not appear to show its displeasure this time. He woke up alone on a hard floor in a world devoid of light, clad in his Overlord armor and healed of his wounds. However, though he lacked a source of illumination, Simon could somehow see the shades of miasma around him. As far as he could tell, he had landed at the edge of an island of black crystal floating in a bottomless void.
The Mana Sword had once again condemned him to this nothingness between time. This reign was wasted from the start.
“Is someone there?” Simon called out to the void, which answered with utter silence. After a moment, he turned to look at the bottom. “Hellfire Gaze.”
The flames of Hell poured out of his eyes and fired beams into the abyss below, until they went so deep the darkness swallowed their light. The chasm was either bottomless or so deep it might as well be.
This has to be the Abyss’ depths, Simon thought as he looked around. Rather than Frightwall, he had found himself on a small islet made entirely of miasma crystals. It was so small he could see the other end.
Though Simon could sense the presence of Frightwall in the distance, and that he could teleport there if he wished, he decided to take a moment to explore his surroundings. He walked along the islet and reached its other end without encountering anything noteworthy, except the presence of other floating islands in the distance ascending upwards. It somehow reminded him of the Sanctuary’s celestial stairway.
Just thinking about the Sanctuary filled Simon’s heart with anger. Why did danger always have to knock on his door as soon as he earned himself the tiniest of victories or respite? How dare Louis rob him of everything he had achieved? He would pay for this insult a thousandfold.
However, once the anger had passed, Simon found himself alone with his sorrow and bitterness.
I’ve lost Eole again, Belzemine too, and everyone else, Simon lamented as he sat at the island’s edge and gazed into the bottomless darkness below. Did fate somehow conspire to kill the Overlord as punishment for existing? Why do I even bother?
What would even make him happy?
“Wait… the Abyss was my witness…” Simon’s heart skipped a beat in his chest as he raised his hand over the edge. He briefly hesitated to go through with it in case it actually worked, but he had to be sure. “When the curtain of darkness falls on a world devoid of light, the black mirror shall show your true self! Reveal thyself, Carbuncle the Devil-Mirror!”
Nothing seemed to happen for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, with Simon briefly scolding himself for thinking it would even work… only for miasma to suddenly gather and coalesce next to him.
“No way…” Simon muttered to himself as the shadows thickened into a familiar shape. “It’s impossible…”
And yet his eyes did not deceive him. Carbuncle, the Devil-Mirror, had materialized in the void between time to fulfill his contract.
“I have come, Lord of Dark,” the Dark Eidolon said dutifully. “What is thy bidding?”
“How… How did you get here?”
“You summoned me,” Carbuncle replied simply. “I have answered.”
“No, no, I mean…” This could change everything. “Is there a world beyond this? Does the Sanctuary still exist?”
“What is this Sanctuary?” Carbuncle asked curiously.
Simon froze in confusion. “The flying islands you come from,” he argued, trying to remind the Dark Eidolon. “Eole? Do you recall Eole? What about Vayan and Lady Junon?”
“Those names mean nothing to me,” Carbuncle replied. “Your call is my beginning, great Lord of Dark, and your dismissal is my end. I have no past nor future beyond you. My first memory was your voice calling me into being.”
This… this didn’t make any sense. A Dark Eidolon was a corrupted version of an existing avatar, so it should remember its life as a creature of the light. The Carbuncle he summoned in the previous reign certainly did.
But that reign ended with Louis’ ambush, Simon thought as he tried to wrap his head around this paradox. The Dark Eidolon contract somehow violated causality. Maybe there is no original Carbuncle in this void, but the Abyss created his darker variant from nothing to fulfill our deal anyway…
The Abyss was a plane of darkness beyond reason, time, or space. Anything could be possible here. Simon couldn’t take anything for granted.
A quick interrogation of Carbuncle confirmed he had no memory whatsoever of the previous reign, whether as a gemfinder extraordinaire or a demonic floating mirror. The Carbuncle in front of Simon might as well be a newborn version of him. A copy.
But since the contract transcends reigns, then it means I don’t have to renew our contract when the reigns begin again, Simon thought with excitement. I only need to bind an eidolon once to do it forever.
Did anything else endure from the previous reign? Simon opened his Inventory to find out if his items were still there, including Nodens’ vile grimoire, the Scream of the Soul. Simon immediately brought it out to see if it would somehow interact with this weird dimension.
Whereas the Commander Noble Crestone had once dissipated into nothing when exposed to the ambient miasma, the Scream of the Soul remained intact. In fact, it seemed to thrive in this environment and absorb the ambient miasma like a sponge.
What is this? Simon wondered as the book shuddered in his hands. It’s reacting to the Abyss–
The book snapped open and screamed.
Terror and Madness negated by Indomitable Crown.
Nodens’ horrific Apocalypse Song came out of the book in a terrifying symphony of wails and cries, each ghastly note infused with miasmic potency. Simon dropped the book in surprise and it fell into the void below before he could catch it again, still screaming.
That… was a spell! Simon immediately threw himself into the void and flew after the book, with Carbuncle in tow. That was a spell, I’m sure of it!
Simon managed to catch the Scream of the Soul in midfall, though it continued to live up to its title. The pages flipped one after another on their own at incredible speed, as if the grimoire was reviewing it all.
What’s happening? Simon wondered. Did the ambient miasma trigger a libromancy spell somehow? What cau–
“My master, beware,” Carbuncle said with a hint of worry, “Beneath you.”
Simon made the mistake of looking down to find the Abyss’ baleful eye staring back at him.
It hadn’t occurred to Simon that anything haunted this seemingly empty void, but he had been wrong, and something had heard the commotion. A form huge and darker than black, with a spiral-shaped eye twisting into an infinity of colors that never–
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Simon woke up in Frightwall.
Not in his bed, or a castle full of sound and people, but a lightless throne hall shrouded in darkness and surrounded by an ominous silence. The Crimson Throne sat empty in front of him, ruling an empty ruin.
This is the Twenty-Second of your Hundred Reigns.
You have earned the Title of Simon the Looker.
The Looker: You died looking at something you shouldn’t have. You will now resist the Blind ailment.
He had died, but time didn’t resume.
A chill traveled down Simon’s spine. Something out there had killed him simply by looking at him.
The void wasn’t empty.
Was that a demon? A qlippoth? Simon had only caught a glimpse of the creature, but it hurt to even remember its features and twisted angles. No living creature could bend and twist the way its tendrils did. There might be things as dangerous as the Zodiac Fiends lurking in the Dark… fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
Worse, it only took Simon a second to confirm he hadn’t actually returned to his normal timeline. The world was still shrouded in miasma, and a look outside the throne room told Simon he was still trapped in the void, or at least the empty version of Frightwall caught between two ticks of the clock. To add insult to injury, he had also lost both the Scream of the Soul and Carbuncle… though it only took Simon a minute to summon back the latter, no worse for wear.
“Do you remember the thing staring back at us?” Simon inquired. “The island of miasma?”
“I do not, Lord of Dark,” Carbuncle replied obediently, which confirmed to Simon that his summons wouldn’t recall anything between the reigns, somehow. “But I can tell this is not the knowledge that will make you happy.”
“No… no, I guess it won’t.” Although he wisely decided not to leave the empty castle this time, Simon decided he might as well check its confines and the outside with Lord of the Demon Castle. “Watch over my body and wake me up if anything happens.”
Afterwards, Simon spent the next hour projecting his mind into Frightwall’s structure, seeing through its stones and windows. He confirmed that the castle was utterly devoid of inhabitants, including Gourmand himself this time around; a detail which unnerved Simon to his core.
Oh, and the abyssal gate in the basement was wide open.
After a moment’s hesitation, Simon dared to peek through its threshold by projecting his spiritual sight through the wall and ceiling. This gave him a view of what lurked beyond the gate: a large metal chain thicker than a castle tower, going down and down into seemingly infinite darkness. Something crawled on it, a mess of misshapen tentacles and tendrils with a spiral-shaped eye of swirling colors that had never existed and bent space–
Heavy Mind damage!
A psychic backlash jolted Simon back to his body with a gasp of miasma, much to Carbuncle’s concern. “What is it, my master?”
The thing was still there.
But I died, Simon thought. His new Title and Carbuncle’s lack of memory proved it, unless a new copy of the latter was summoned each time Simon used his ability. Is it a different creature, or did it somehow pursue me across the reigns?
Either way, Simon wisely decided not to linger long in this void. He had to hope sitting on the Crimson Throne would send him back to the light of the past, where he could fulfill his oath to Louis and destroy all those who had wronged him.
And then what? Simon wondered. The question which Vouivre had raised still haunted him. Once I have become the strongest and my enemies are slain… What will I do then?
“I am glad… you came to us, Simon.”
Vayan’s words echoed in the back of his mind. The eidolon had found peace in believing Simon had saved the Sanctuary and thought he had found happiness with them, but he had been wrong on both counts. Simon had enjoyed happy moments with his friends and Eole there, yet it failed to alleviate that nagging sense of frustration he had been struggling with.
If a paradise couldn’t satisfy him, what could then?
“I can show you your truth, my master,” Carbuncle suggested helpfully, the surface of his mirror rippling with woven desires. “I can reveal what will make you happy, if you would only stare into me.”
Simon clenched his fists, as he had an inkling of what his reflection would show him: a truth he refused to face and yet couldn’t escape from.
“Then you were a coward in the end.”
How could he hope to destroy Louis if he couldn’t even face himself?
Simon mustered his courage and faced Carbuncle. He stared into his rippling mirror’s surface, watching as its obsidian glass began to reflect his innermost desire. A vivid and highly detailed image swiftly appeared.
Simon immediately recognized Marthrone, not as it was, but as it should be; a prosperous, perfectly organized metropolis free of hunger, disease, discrimination, and racial prejudice. Shifters, elves, humans, goblinoids, and all Tribes of the world coexisted in peace and harmony. The fires of industry burned beneath soaring airships, and the streets were filled with technological wonders.
“I already lived in such a paradise,” Simon said. “So what was I lacking there?”
The mirror’s surface rippled and showed him a vision of the main plaza, where once stood his father’s statue.
Except now, the citizens bowed to Simon’s face.
Simon’s fists clenched as the mirror’s reflection shifted to reveal the Crimson Throne’s hall. There his retainers were all standing firm in two lines in devotion. Leonard, Meredith, Duchar, and Belzemine were there, alongside faces like Alphonse and most of his party, Alcyone, Voltobauta, Verdis, Anaximander, and Casval of all people. The people Simon trusted kept watch over a ghastly trophy wall including Verney’s head, shattered Zodiac crystals, the Silk twins’ corpses left hanging, and all those who had ever crossed Simon; including a faceless elf that fit his mental representation of the Oracle.
The more he looked, the more the vision unsettled Simon. At the throne’s feet was a harem of concubines, including Remedia, Tiella, Cassandra, Anna, Eole—even Vouivre of all people—kneeling in loving adoration. The entire Magnos family knelt at the throne alongside Shabram and Aegio, at long last united as one and free of pointless conflicts. Louis was there too, perhaps because part of Simon still hoped he could be salvaged.
And at the center of it all like the sun with its planets, sitting on the Crimson Throne, was Simon Magnos.
His reflection was clad in the dark armor he had inherited from his father, basking in the power and glory his Class afforded him, and staring back at him with prideful contentment as he oversaw a peaceful world bound by his iron will.
He was the master of the universe, and loved every single minute of it.
“This is your heart’s desire, my master, the wish which you seek most and will grant you happiness once forged into reality,” Carbuncle whispered kindly. “A peaceful and ordered world of progress, shaped by your benevolent iron hand. A land free of war and hunger and disease, where the people are content and devoted… as you have commanded them to be.”
Simon smashed the mirror with a punch.
The blow threw Carbuncle across the room and caused him to bounce off a wall, cracks spreading on his body. Simon immediately regretted it, a wave of shame washing over him as his anger subsided.
“Be not ashamed of this truth, my master,” Carbuncle implored him. “Embrace it. Embrace it, and you will be happy.” ƒreewebηoveℓ.com
“It is a nice dream,” Simon replied as he moved up the Crimson Throne and sat on it, “But some dreams are better off never coming true.”
Still, he couldn’t deny the unpleasant truth laid bare for him to see: there was a part of Simon that enjoyed being the Overlord.
And he hated himself for it.
The reigns resumed properly once he sat on the Crimson Throne.
This raised a few questions. While Simon had died to that… thing in the depths… he should have reasonably reawakened back in his bedroom if death alone was enough of a condition. This made Simon wonder if they could only resume the reigns from the void between time if he sat on the Crimson Throne, or if every death from the Mana Sword caused an increasing amount of damage to the loop’s underlying mechanism.
Either way, he found himself floating in the void and facing the Crimson Throne once more. He could sense his predecessors’ amusement and satisfaction inside the artifact, illustrated by the Title they decided to bestow upon him.
This is the Twenty-Third of your Hundred Reigns.
You have earned the Title of Simon the Actualized.
The Actualized: You have reached the stage of acceptance when it comes to being the Overlord, which is cause for celebration. Your Mind affinity has increased to Very Strong.
Well, that one would at least pair much better with his Adaptive Spellcasting Perk and Devious Title than the previous two.
Simon woke up back in his bed once more, back in a world of heat, light, and life. He immediately rose and moved to the window to stare at the city outside. Marthrone was asleep, a city of vice and prejudice unlike the one Carbuncle had shown him… but perhaps it could one day live up to that dream.
Simon thought back about the previous reign, reviewing all that he had learned and endured, until he reached a simple conclusion.
Endymion needed an Overlord.
There was simply no way around it. No one would step up to save the world, and no other power could forestall the civil war indefinitely. Its fractious people would always tear each other apart without an iron hand to guide them.
The Sanctuary was also doomed without help. Even if he freed Eole and had her warn her people, they were wildly outmatched against Nodens; and he would then proceed to ravage the world by either driving the population insane or dropping the flying islands onto the surface. Nothing Simon did on the ground would matter unless he took out the Goatfish.
Did devouring his crystal destroy him across time and space? Simon wondered. He didn’t think so, since consuming Asterion’s crystal for the Dark Visionary ritual hadn’t destroyed the Minotaur. I need to check.
Whatever the case, he needed more strength to protect Eole and his friends back in the Sanctuary. All the previous reigns had only taught Simon he couldn’t escape that responsibility if he wanted to save the world and all those he held dear.
The Overlord Class might be evil, but in this case, it was a necessary one; a force he could turn to the greater good.
Moreover, Louis was too dangerous to be left unchecked, lest he plunge this world into a pointless war for his own benefit. Simon would fulfill his oath to him. His brother would learn his place in time, or be crushed.
Unfortunately, he was too strong for Simon to defeat at this point in time… at least not without help.
Simon thought back on Shabram's earlier suggestions at the beginning of his previous reign. She had proposed a plan to sideline the War Party and ensure stability all the way up the Zodiac Parade. The more he considered it, the more it sounded like a promising solution to the Endymion problem. It would also give Simon the opportunity to gather both Noble Heroes and obtain a certain Perk.
His decision made, Simon activated his teleporting spell. “Lord of the Demon Castle.”
He teleported into the empress’ bedroom, to find her asleep… for about a second before her eyes snapped open when she detected his presence. Did she always fear assassins coming to strike at her in the night?
“You?” Euphemia immediately put on her Class outfit as she bolted out of her bed. “How did you get in?”
“By my will alone,” Simon replied as he put on his Overlord armor, revealing himself to his shocked stepmother. “Euphemia… I have come to bargain.”
