Chapter 20: Wings of the Dragonlord (4)

Simon feigned shock. “You want to overthrow House Magnos?”

“Is it so surprising?” Casval asked, his smile unwavering. “You have seen Prince Thal-Ass. He is making many enemies, and his father even more so. There are many in the empire that wish your kin dead.”

“Father has many enemies, that is true, but very few of them live long.”

“The Overlord is only human, and all men can die,” Casval insisted. “For all his strength, he needs an army to enforce his will. The more of his minions we take out, the more vulnerable he’ll become. Worry not, we have strength; it’s information and the right opportunity we need.”

“Information?” Simon scowled. “You want me to spy on my family?”

“Yes, of course. You said it yourself, Thal-Ass is bad, and Louis is even worse. Certainly, you wouldn’t mind seeing them knocked down from their pedestal?” Casval tilted his head to the side. “Moreover, there would be a place for someone like you in the new order. A bastard like you will remain stuck in his place should things stay as they are, but my sister does not care where you come from; only about how useful you’ll be.”

Casval tried to make it sound appealing, but the wording betrayed his kind’s coldness. Simon scowled and feigned hesitation. “How can I know this is not a plot of Thalas’ to find an excuse to execute me?”

Casval’s eyes turned into slitted reptilian pupils, and crimson scales appeared over his neckline.

The shift was so sudden that Simon genuinely bolted back in surprise. “What the–”

“Is this proof enough for you?” Casval asked, his voice suddenly far deeper than before. “I am not human. Within my veins flows the blood of Gargauth, the late true Overlord. Your family would want me dead even more than you.”

Simon clenched his teeth. If Casval was so bold as to openly reveal his true nature now, then he had to be prepared to kill Simon on the spot should he refuse to go along. “You must think me valuable to reveal this to me.”

“Yes, of course. We are friends. Friends trust each other.” Casval’s eyes and skin smoothly returned to that of his human disguise. “I have told you a secret; now you must tell me one of yours. It is only fair.”

His tone sounded friendly enough, but Simon could read between the lines. He knew too much now. Either he gave Casval dirt he could use as leverage to enforce mutual trust, or this alley would be his grave.

“The Overlord… has chosen an heir,” Simon said, while pretending to hesitate. “It’s none of his children.”

Casval’s eyes glimmered with interest. “Go on…”

“You’ve heard of Laurent Linconnu?” Casval nodded at Simon’s question. “All imperial forces are after this man because he’s the heir.”

“Interesting.” Casval gave no hint that he already knew that or was merely testing Simon. “But there’s more. You know more.”

Simon frowned and pretended to weigh his answer. In truth, he had plotted all of this long ago. “There is more,” he confirmed. “A secret I’ve forbidden to share under the pain of death, but…”

Casval squinted in impatience. “But?”

“My family will have my head should it become known. Revealing it to be public would be akin to declaring war on House Magnos.” Simon raised a finger. “You said you had enough strength to take on my half-siblings? Well, prove it. I need to see you have a serious shot at winning.”

“Let me guess, you want us to kill Prince Thal-Ass?” Casval crossed his arms. “I have been looking towards assassinating him, but he is too well-protected. His highborn entourage won’t let me near him either.”

This was the chance Simon had been waiting for. “What if I lured him outside town?”

He knew he had won the moment Casval leaned forward with interest. “You can?”

“Yes. I can lure him outside the city to any place of your choosing.” Simon scoffed. “If you’re strong enough to take out the Berserker, that is.”

“There’s no man in Beleth we cannot kill,” Casval replied. “What do you have in mind?”

“Here’s what you’re going to do: you will go to Antonine de Shax and tell her you have information on me that Thalas will be interested in. She’ll introduce you to him.” Largely because she had to prove her usefulness, since their engagement might be canceled. “You will tell him that I’ve confided that I’ve actually been dispatched to Telluria on Prince Louis’ orders. My job is to meet with the beastmen tribes and convince them to join Louis’ army and support his bid for the throne in exchange for greater rights, maybe even independence, and that I am to meet with their leaders outside the city.”

Casval immediately caught on to the scheme. “You think he’ll follow you personally to catch you red-handed?”

“Oh, trust me. He won’t be able to resist.” Simon smirked ear to ear. “Kill him, and my loyalty is yours.”

Everything went according to plan, and Casval gave him the go-ahead two days after their meeting.

Simon left the city with Meredith, Eole, and Leonard in tow on their way to the Redhands’ territory. It hardly took them twenty minutes for Meredith to confirm that Thalas, Antonine, Casval, and a small posse followed them. As Simon predicted, the fact that Thalas’ sycophants had already seen him leave the city once before only strengthened their master’s suspicions.

“The fish has taken the bait,” Simon noted. “Good. Remember your orders. We are to watch, and only engage at my order or if either side attacks us.”

“If I may, Your Highness,” Meredith asked while clearing her throat. “Did your father authorize this operation?”

“Yes. Either Thalas wins and proves himself a true prince of blood, or he fails and we can assess the enemy’s strength.”

The worst part was that Simon was convinced his father would pull something like this, and his retainers appeared to believe it as well.

Simon himself wasn’t exactly sure how it would turn out. He had no pity for Thalas after all of the indignities he had put his half-brother through, and his demise would free Anna from a forced marriage. There was hardly a soul in the empire who would mourn him besides his mother. Thalas had tried to have him executed a few years back and continued to threaten him with death regularly, so the sin of kinslaying did not cloud Simon’s mind.

On the other hand, Vouivre was a monster both figuratively and literally. If she could indeed kill Thalas, then she could likely match the likes of Dassein or Louis, which meant Simon would need significant level-ups before he could even contemplate fighting her.

Moreover, Casval had insisted that Simon bring Eole with him, which couldn’t bode well. The kish had made him promise not to surrender her to the scalefolk with more fear than she had ever shown. She truly considered it a fate worse than death.

Simon hoped he would have the leverage to protect her.

He sensed a voice reaching out at the edge of his consciousness, connecting to his mind through the Brand of Sloth. Duchar. “Your Highness?”

“What is it, Duchar?” Simon replied through telepathy.

“I have found a mention of Zodiac Fiends in a text. Is Your Highness familiar with the Age of Heroes?”

“Everyone is.” The Age of Heroes was the period of time when the elves bestowed upon human heroes the twenty-two Noble Classes nearly a thousand years back into the past, who would go on to found great civilizations that prospered before the Doom. Some scholars believed Mardok created the Overlord Class specifically to defeat those heroes, though they had existed centuries apart. “What of it?”

“I have found a tale, mostly forgotten, that says the Heroes once fought twelve archdemons that banded together to rule the world. After a long battle that tore the world asunder, the heroes banished them from the world and into space, where they became the constellations in the night sky. Hence the title of the tale, ‘The Heroes and the Zodiac Fiends.’” Simon heard Duchar scoff on his end of the magical link. “Obviously, the last part is rubbish, but the connection Lorimor has found between those ‘demonbarrows’ and the constellations certainly comes to mind.”

Simon pondered that information for a moment. The demons being sent to the stars clashed with Eole’s tale that one of them was buried beneath the Kish capital, but this could simply be the result of centuries of retelling twisting a kernel of truth.

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Father’s notes accounted for eight demonbarrows if Simon remembered correctly, and he theorized about missing four. This would make a total of twelve, the same as the zodiac constellations.

What bothered Simon was that these supposedly dead Zodiac Fiends had somehow caused his father’s demise six times in his past reigns. He had the gut feeling this matter might trouble himself in the future.

“Thank you, Duchar. Inform me if you find anything else,” Simon replied before spotting a forest facing the great plains of Telluria, alongside a hill overlooking them. It was the very same spot where Vouivre massacred them in his previous reign.

“We’ll have the best view from here,” he informed his men.

His group ascended the hill and then took position. Simon quickly caught sight of Thalas’ band riding across the plain on horseback. They suddenly stopped midway onto the plain, perhaps because they had smelled the trap.

Alas for them, it was already too late. Casval proved it by immediately transforming into his hybrid form and flying away too fast for a shocked Thalas to react. The reason why became clear a second later.

Hell rained down from the sky.

A fireball the size of a house crossed the heavens like a meteor and impacted the plains in a catastrophic explosion. The explosion unleashed a flash of light and fire so bright that Simon had to cover his eyes with his hand. His retainers immediately adopted their class outfits, even Eole, who now had a shimmering iridescent veil covering her mouth and dancer robes matching her curves.

When the light subsided, only ashes and charred bones remained of Thalas’ entourage. The flames had consumed men and horses alike… except for one figure.

Simon had rarely seen Thalas in the Berserker outfit, but he had to admit his half-brother cut an intimidating figure in it. His muscles rippled beneath a piece of clothing composed of a giant wolf’s pelt forming a cloak and hood, arm pieces of boiled black scales, and tattered pants. His chest was left exposed, yet the skin now shone with runes of power. Though Thalas carried heavy burns, he looked more pissed than hurt, and soon raised a black axe taller than any man to the sky. A roar escaped his mouth, so loud that Simon could hear it from the hill.

“SIMON!”

Yes, Thalas, it was me, Simon thought with satisfaction. He felt slightly guilty for the death of Antonine and the others—they didn’t deserve this—but his half-brother’s roar of pain and humiliation sounded so sweet. I’m fine with not delivering the final blow… so long as you know it was me.

The instrument of his vengeance made her presence known with a terrifying roar that drowned out Thalas’ own. It echoed across the landscape and struck Simon to his very soul.

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