Chapter 24: Lord of the Berwick Islands (2)

Simon could have sworn time had stopped for an instant. He could feel the sweat on his forehead.

“I don’t understand,” he lied.

“You do,” Lord Paimon replied without care or pity. “Show it to me.”

He knows. Somehow, he knows. Does he want to kill me and take the Class? Or did Father inform him? Maublanc Paimon didn’t strike Simon as the type to kill him on the spot—even if he had been Balzam’s pet and follower in all things—but his tone remained dangerous. I have to play this very carefully.

Simon clenched his teeth and summoned his Class outfit. Maublanc kept his composure, having clearly expected something like this.

“So I was right…” Lord Paimon muttered to himself, his jaw tightening into a dark scowl. “Who killed Balzam?”

“It wasn’t me,” Simon insisted.

“I know, I’ve read Shabram’s reports.” Maublanc joined his hands. “Do you know who did it then?”

“No,” Simon replied with a scowl. “I thought it might have been Firewand for a time–”

“Firewand?” Maublanc squinted. “Why would you think that? Her slave mark prevents her from harming the Overlord.”

“Her mark is faulty,” Simon replied, though he couldn’t exactly explain why. “It’s an Overlord thing. I can sense it. It’s flawed.”

Maublanc grunted upon hearing this, yet he quickly dismissed the possibility. “She doesn’t have it in her. She would be the last person on this earth to strike down your father even without the mark. It has to be Louis or Euphemia, maybe both. Their little cold war has been boiling over for years.” He shook his head and changed the subject. “When did you learn that your father entrusted you with the Class?”

“Since I woke up with it.” Which was technically true. “I don’t know why he chose me.”

“He must have seen something in you,” Maublanc theorized with a scoff. “He did say he could never see you coming.”

Simon’s head perked up. “What?”

“It’s something your father told me when we played cards once.” Lord Maublanc rested his head on his fist as he reminisced. “I asked him why he kept you around without giving you any responsibility. A bastard with nothing to do was a waste. He replied that he could never see you coming, whatever that meant. He never elaborated on that.”

I have a good idea what he meant. Simon’s thoughts immediately drifted to his father’s death list and the many nightmares where he had seen himself murder Balzam Magnos. Did he keep me defanged because I would have killed him otherwise?

Why not just kill Simon in the crib, then? He didn’t think Balzam Magnos would balk at filicide. Something didn’t add up here.

“It does not matter why your father chose you, only that he did.” Maublanc forced himself to smile. “Let us not talk about the past. You have no need to worry, Simon. Your secret is safe with me.”

Simon didn’t entirely relax, but he knew Maublanc Paimon wasn’t the kind to lie to others’ faces. He was blunt and unrelenting, as befitting of a Commander. Political intrigue never appealed to him, and he had been content ruling the Berwick Islands as viceroy and serving as Father’s head tactician for the last twenty years… but he was also present during the council meeting that poisoned him a few reigns back.

“What gave me away?” Simon asked warily, trying to fish for information.

“Nothing you did personally.” Maublanc leaned back in his chair. “I’ll be blunt, I thought marrying my daughter to his upjumped bastard was your father’s final insult. A joke, a taunt that she wasn’t worthy of Thalas or Louis.”

Simon bit his tongue at the upjumped bastard part. Maublanc had treated him cordially enough in the past, but he remained a bastard in his eyes.

“But then I found it odd how he showered you with gifts on his way out of this world. Legitimization, a whole princedom, my daughter’s hand? That was too much. Then there was the fact he chose a stranger associated with a vengeful house for an heir…” Maublanc chuckled. “Something didn’t add up.”

I was too greedy, Simon thought. He kept his mouth shut and let Maublanc reveal more.

“A thought then crossed my mind: what if that ‘Casval’ was a mere smokescreen? A decoy meant to distract our enemies while his true heir was left to secure his powerbase right in front of us all? What if the engagement wasn’t a slight… but a calculated move?” It was a completely wrong assumption, but one which Lord Paimon clearly wanted to believe in. “My inability to target you with any divination spells swiftly confirmed my suspicions. Only the Anathemic Secrecy Perk is so invulnerable to such scrutiny.”

So that’s how he did it. Simon wanted to beat his head on the table. The only reason most people didn’t notice his immunity to divinations was that he was usually too unimportant to bother with. Entering the spotlight was a terrible mistake.

Wait, did others know? Lady Shabram had to have cast divination spells as part of her investigation into his father’s death. She should have instantly figured it out when they failed to provide information on Simon. Did she find out and say nothing anyway? Why? Did it somehow serve her agenda to ensure that the Overlord faded into obscurity?

Why did every reign bring new questions and few answers?

“The old bastard must have thought I would be the only prince or noble in the realm who wouldn’t take the Overlord Class for himself,” Lord Maublanc guessed. “Your engagement to my daughter was likely his idea of a bribe: my Anna on the throne as empress, in exchange for my support and armies.” He leaned back in his seat with a hint of nostalgia. “Or maybe he truly did value my service. Maybe he cared in the end.”

He raped your daughter and joked about it in a previous reign. Would he have done something so vile if he cared? It took Simon all of his composure not to spit on his worthless father’s memory. I was the only one who cared.

However, he could tell Maublanc truly wanted to believe his liege trusted him and his line with the Overlord Class. It should have been easy to figure out that Simon had likely forged Balzam’s testament, but that would mean admitting that his father didn’t even think to involve Lord Maublanc in the line of succession; something that would wound his pride.

“Since you have just inherited your Class, we will need to build up your strength until you are ready to reclaim the Crimson Throne,” Maublanc said without skipping a beat. “I’m certain my brother set up this situation because he expected the fools and traitors in the capital to tear each other apart. We will build up our forces while the lions devour each other.”

“Reclaim the Crimson Throne?” Simon’s heart skipped in his chest in enthusiasm. “I… I admit I have no interest in the throne. I didn’t ask for this.”

“I understand your reluctance, Simon, but claiming the Crimson Throne is your duty as Overlord and your father’s last wish.” Maublanc raised an eyebrow. “Certainly you know how the Class only passes on through death? This is a burden you will have to wear for the rest of your life.”

“I would rather have retired away from all the bickering and backstabbing in the capital.”

“Believe me, I understand you more than you think. I have no appetite for pointless politicking either… but alas, when men are called to war, they must answer.” Lord Maublanc gave Simon a stern look. “Moreover, if I have figured it out, then it’s only a matter of time before others do. The hunt for this Casval keeps the hounds busy for now, but once they have caught their prize and found him wanting, they will look inward and turn your way.”

He’s got a point. Simon had left behind too many hints about his true identity this time. Louis and Euphemia are no fools. They’ll figure it out sooner or later.

Lord Paimon dismissed his worries with a hand. “You’re only afraid because you don’t know what your Class can do. I’m sure you’ll change your mind once we’ve brought you to an acceptable level.”

Now that appealed to Simon. “Will you help me level-up?”

“Yes, of course. A weak Overlord will not inspire men to raise their banners.” Lord Maublanc wistfully stroked his beard. “You will also marry my dear Anna as soon as possible. I have already taken measures to organize the ceremony.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Marry Anna?” Simon choked. “But we’ve just been engaged, surely this is premature…”

Maublanc’s expression darkened significantly. “It was your father’s last wish. Most importantly, with the loss of your princedom, you are currently without a powerbase of your own. Marrying my daughter would secure your rightful place in the eyes of nobles and commoners alike.”

Those were empty excuses. His true motive was far simpler: the old fox wanted his daughter sitting on the Crimson Throne next to the new Overlord, and every day Simon spent unmarried increased the chances that he would find someone else.

He wants his grandchild on the throne, one way or another, Simon thought. He won’t give me the choice to hide. He will reveal my Class to the world eventually. It’s just a question of when.

Still, it wasn’t a bad deal. Simon wasn’t certain about marrying Anna, but it would at least keep her away from Thalas, and Maublanc Paimon was one of the most powerful people in the entire empire. His support could help Simon level-up quicker than ever, especially since it was in his best interests to see his future son-in-law grow in strength. Although he had no interest in being anyone’s puppet, Simon decided to play along this time.

Time was the one thing he had plenty of.

Maublanc spent the rest of the flight grilling Simon about the Overlord Class and his retainers. The lord was familiar with both Leonard and Meredith—the former having served under him during previous imperial campaigns and the latter having a good reputation—so the two were told the truth about the Overlord Class, and while doubtful about Lorimor, Simon was able to persuade him. Anna would be brought into the conspiracy as well, since it would be difficult for Simon to hide something so big from his future wife. Everyone else would be left in the dark.

“Devour Crestone?” Lord Maublanc inquired with curiosity.

“That’s one of the Perks I received when I first got the Overlord Class,” Simon lied. The Anathemic Secrecy Perk thankfully allowed him to obscure his true level and abilities, so he could afford to manipulate the information he shared with his future father-in-law. “I can apparently consume a Crestone and gain one of its Perks, so long as I’ve unlocked it in another Class.”

“Balzam never told me about that one… but yes, it would make sense for you to focus on obtaining an exp or stat-boosting Perk. I will have people looking for both.” Maublanc stroked his beard as he pondered what to do with this revelation. “There are two kinds of stats: base stats, which are your natural stats when you don’t use a Crestone, and stat modifiers, which are the stats you gain from wearing a Class outfit. The more you progress in a Class, the greater the modifiers.”

Simon had noticed as much. He had grown slightly stronger since using the Overlord Class, but those improvements paled compared to the might he wielded when putting the armor on.