Chapter 111: The Cocagne Affair (11)

Half the arena had fallen to pieces.

Most of the slave cells had already been buried in debris by the time Simon reached them, and though he managed to blast a few open on his way out, he could tell the death toll would be horrendous. The beasts in the fighting pit had managed to climb out of it and escape at least. Fear, and the absence of living guards to stop them, had given them the resolve and opportunity to flee. Simon doubted they would remain at large for long with their clipped wings, but perhaps they could make their way back to the wild and freedom.

Simon himself escaped through the cove as planned, using a Fiendmask to change his appearance and swim across the water thanks to his inhuman strength. He eventually made his way to a small fishing boat anchored nearby belonging to one of Remedia’s Shadowguards, who smuggled him away right as half the colosseum collapsed in on itself. The resulting cloud of dust could be seen all across Lafontaine.

Simon had the feeling that arena tourneys would become a lot less popular in the coming months.

Queen Remedia quickly took charge of the disaster relief, pretending to have been informed through divinations and teleporting into Lafontaine to help with the rescue operations. Simon himself participated under disguise; healing the wounded, blasting away debris, and so on. He had little pity for most victims since they had come to bet and rejoice in the deaths of slaves fighting for their entertainment, but passerbies, slaves, and families had also been caught in the disaster.

When night arrived, Remedia invited Simon to a private meeting in another safehouse to discuss the matter away from prying gazes. This one had a window, unlike the last, so they could watch Lafontaine’s lights while eating.

And the queen looked pissed.

“I told you to cause a public incident, not to destroy the entire arena!” she angrily snapped at him once they met in private. “What happened?!”

“The Cobweb had a self-destruct mechanism in place and triggered it,” Simon argued, trying to calm her down. “They were doing dreadful things there.”

Thankfully, Remedia listened to his explanations and used divination spells to confirm some of them, her anger giving way to worry and concern. She looked rather shaken by the end of his tale.

“My Shadowguard and divinations tell me that the death toll rises into the hundreds, and many more are still buried,” Remedia informed Simon as she poured him a glass of wine. She spilled while pouring it. The situation had shaken her. “This went way overboard, Simon. We were lucky there weren’t more victims.”

“I didn’t know what I would find there, and neither did you,” Simon countered. He didn’t want her to think he had planned for this chaos in any way. “The mere fact the Cobweb thought this would be the best way to cover their tracks means they were doing something terrible down there.”

Remedia’s jaw clenched, though she was wise enough to take him at his word. “What is this Cobweb, truly?” She asked sharply. “Certainly not a mere criminal organization.”

“I don’t know, and that’s what bothers me,” Simon confessed as he took his glass. “Was that door corridor a teleportation network? A pocket dimension?”

“I am not certain,” Remedia admitted. “Teleport is usually a Tier VIII spell, and creating a permanent portal between two or more locations is in the realm of Tier IX spells or above, but there are always obscure tricks and loopholes to consider. It could be one of the Rogue’s Perks, if they truly lead this Cobweb organization, or some summoned demon or monster’s unique ability. Some kind of fairy would make sense from their heavy use of fetches.”

“Fetches?” Simon inquired. The name didn’t ring a bell.

Remedia scowled as she sipped her wine. “Some malevolent fairies like to play a cruel prank on human families. They take newborn children to raise as their own, then craft a simulacrum of the kidnapped child from snow and dust to take the original’s place with none the wiser. The copy moves like a human, breathes and smiles like us, but it is utterly soulless and devoid of emotion. An empty shell whose true nature only becomes clear upon destruction.”

“The smilers…” Simon considered this information, and realized he didn’t like the implications one bit. “You think the Cobweb has fairies in its ranks?”

“Possibly. There are other ways to craft fetches. Powerful crafters or spellcasters could do it.” Remedia gazed into her drink. “You said they were running an alchemical experiment on the shifters? To what end?”

Simon shook his head, though he had his theories. “The Cobweb is looking for the Zodiac Fiends’ crystals, and someone told me once that one of their archdemons originally created the Shifter Tribe. It may be that shifters show a stronger predisposition for becoming Zodiac Fiend hosts than humans.”

“You suggest they were trying to… craft demon hosts?” Remedia asked, her scowl deepening. “Being possessed wouldn’t suddenly lift the host’s slave brands and seals, but this is still pure madness. Would this Prince of Spiders truly be so foolish?”

“I do not know,” Simon conceded. Silk had tried to enslave Asterion and the Stone Muse on the Prince’s behalf and bound the Crab in a book, so he didn’t think they were truly working towards unleashing the Zodiac Fiends upon the world. Not without safeties in place, at least. “I’m not even sure who they are, let alone what they’re after. All I know is that they have no honor and their greed is boundless.”

“How did it come to this?” Remedia wondered, her hand tightly gripping her glass. “We must get to the bottom of this, Simon.”

“I know,” Simon agreed. The Cobweb was clearly playing with fire. “I have recovered the Ninja’s soul and Crestone. Our jester, Gourmand, can extract knowledge from dead souls. He is currently in Frightwall, but Euphemia could lend him to you for some time to entertain Norbelle.”

“Yes. I will research spells that can coax information out of this Renal’s soul too.” Remedia nodded to herself. “In the meantime, I will take no risks. I will have my Shadowguard strike any location associated with the Cobweb in the Queendom.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “I thought you lacked the political ammunition to strike at them openly?”

“The slaves’ deaths are a tragedy, as was that of the citizens caught in the arena’s collapse, but this will be an ill for good.” Remedia moved to the window, a grim look on her face as she observed the arena’s ruins in the distance. “Survivors among the slaves told us their captors regularly ran blood tests on them. I can blame the disaster on a failed demon summoning and use the outrage to tightly increase arena security measures, or at least give the gladiators better treatment.”

“I see.” Simon nodded. “You can count on my help to wipe them out. The world will be better with fewer webs in our attics.”

Remedia scoffed at his quip. “What would your family think, if they learned the Overlord had become an arachnid exterminator?”

“They would think they could do a better job as Overlord.” Simon shrugged. “And they would probably be right.”

“If you ask me, it is a blessing for us all that the Class chose you rather than someone like your brother Louis,” Remedia mused. “In spite of how things unfolded, you did fulfill one of my wishes, Simon… you will not find me an ingrate.”

“But the other still troubles you,” Simon noted. He could read the worry written on her face. “What’s on your mind?”

“Besides the fact that criminals were running demonic experiments on my citizens right under my nose?” Remedia sighed. “Empress Euphemia informed me she struck a match between her son Thalas and Lord Paimon’s daughter. The Berwick Islands will rise with us.”

Simon knew that it was only a matter of time before events unfolded this way, but he couldn’t suppress a scowl of annoyance. “This is good news for you.”

Remedia noticed his frustration. “Does their marriage displease you, Simon?”

“I loved Anna Paimon once,” Simon said. And I still do. “I had hoped to marry her myself, had I been better born.”

Remedia gave him a look full of sympathy. “Our choice of partners is so often out of our grasp,” she said, finishing her wine. “As for why it worries me… while this is good news for us, this also means that Louis won’t take the alliance lying down, and I doubt he will remain unaware of our discussions with the Magvolian royalists for long. Either we strike first, or he will.” She took a long, deep breath. “I can only pray your strategy will pay off.”

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“It will,” Simon promised her. After all, he had already lived through similar events and hedged his bets.

Remedia forced herself to smile, though it failed to reach her eyes. She turned away from him and stared at the night sky in silence. Her tension was palpable. And why wouldn’t she be tense? From her perspective, her country was about to roll the dice and enter an uncertain future. Wars were always bitter affairs without the benefit of foresight.

“The last Rogue slew my mother when I was seventeen,” she said, breaking the silence. “Navarre still held the Class back then, and their Rogue clashed with my mother over a border dispute. He robbed her of her magic when she was flying, and she fell to her death from on high.” The queen bit her lip. “Now I am starting a covert war with someone who might be their successor, and my country has no princess to take over should I die.”

Simon hesitated a moment, as he knew what his mind suggested to him would be highly improper, but he decided to push through anyway. He moved behind her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her into a gentle embrace in an attempt to reassure her. She didn’t resist him, and he could tell she appreciated the gesture.

“I must look pathetic,” Remedia said, her hands resting on his arms. “The Mage, mistress of sorcery, acting so nervous in front of the Overlord… my subjects would jeer at me if they could see us.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Simon reassured her. “I can tell you’re not worrying about yourself.”

“I don’t want my son to die waging war with Endymion,” Remedia admitted. “Verdis… Gargauth slew his grandfather during a skirmish. Should the War Party’s airships come…” She turned her head and met his gaze, imploring him. “Do you promise me this will work?”

“I will make it work,” Simon insisted softly.

His confidence reassured her a bit. “I suppose this is the bright side of devil bargains,” she mused. “They may twist the terms, but they always fulfill them.”

Simon held her gaze for a moment, neither of them saying a word. He became acutely aware of the way her soft fingers held on to his arms, the proximity between them, the way the queen appeared to wait.

It was there that Simon realized he wanted her.

Not to play into Norbelle’s plans, not for the Mage Crestone, but because he wanted her now.

And why shouldn’t he? Anna was to be married off to Thalas again, and Cassandra was half a continent away. Filip already hated him enough to order an attempt on his life, and he liked Remedia. She was wise, charming, strong… he couldn’t deny he desired her.

And if he wasn’t misreading things, she liked him too. Inviting him to this private safehouse, hidden away from sight, with her husband a continent away… Simon struggled to see this as a coincidence. Remedia wanted this, maybe even fantasized about it, but she was afraid to cross that line, knowing the consequences.