Chapter 29: Lord of the Berwick Islands (7)

What was he doing wrong?

The thought continued to haunt Simon as he browsed through the spellbook. His study in Fort Corinte was much smaller than the one he enjoyed in Castle Carcas, but he nonetheless loved the quietness of it all.

The keep was small, much smaller than Carcas, and with only a scant few villages nearby, rather than a city neighboring it. Built on a rocky outcropping in the middle of wetlands close to primeval woods, it enjoyed a spectacular view of the Berwick Islands’ manatree. Simon particularly enjoyed seeing it from his window in the morning.

The source of most life on the planet, each manatree was unique in shape, with the one in the Berwick Islands resembling a colossal oak. It was relatively small by its kind’s standards due to its youth, only reaching a little over three thousand feet high, but that was enough to rival many minor mountains. Its massive roots spread across the forests and bathed them in such enormous quantities of mana that it became visible as a faint, bluish mist shimmering in the sunlight. Countless creatures called it home, and some even whispered of a rare few elves and fairies that still served the local dryad.

Simon wasn’t sure what to make of those rumors. He and Anna had spent a month in the region, mostly assisting the local inquisition branch in interrogating suspected Green Mother cultists or visiting local villages to help establish more churches. Incidents were rare, but deeply unsettling: a group of soldiers dispatched into the woods to intercept a suspected cult ritual never returned, but that also could have been the doing of wild animals or monsters in the woods; a wolf had somehow broken into a local church and tore out a priest’s throat; and a couple who had converted to the Church of Light vanished without a trace.

And then there were the occasional poisoning attempts. Simon and Anna had been forced to fire all the local staff and bring in outsiders after his Unyielding Essence saved him from some poisoned beer, and to hire a food taster—mostly to avoid raising suspicions about Simon’s ailment immunity. At least Tiella had brought a few more servants with her from Uyo on her return.

I’m doing it all wrong, I can feel it in my soul. His experience earnings had slowed down to a crawl in spite of his constant judgments and noble hunts. At least I’m making progress on the spellcasting front.

It had taken him a while, but he had finally found a Tier II Miasma-powered spell in one of the castle library’s grimoires; one that would become extremely useful.

He heard a knock on the door. “Yes?”

“It’s me, bookworm,” Anna replied before walking in and locking the door behind her. She carried a small book under her arm. “I can’t believe you prefer this dusty, moldy old place to your throne room.”

“It has its charms,” Simon replied before kissing his fiancée on the lips. “How was the meeting?”

“Utterly boring, doubly so since my lord of a fiancé wouldn’t attend. I even caught Tiella yawning, even though she’s supposed to be keeping watch.”

“She overworks herself.” Tiella spent most of her days grinding with her new Dreadnought Class, and she was having a lot more success than Simon on that front, especially with the Brand of Sloth increasing her experience gains. “Have you brought me more reading material?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure I should give it to you,” Anna replied playfully. “Have you been a good student and made any progress?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.” Simon quickly cast his new spell. “Fiendmask.”

A layer of miasma flowed over his skin, covering every inch of his body in an instant. A thin layer of it now encased him like a cocoon, though it produced no visual indication of any kind.

Anna raised an eyebrow. “Forgive me if I’m a bit underwhelmed.”

“Wait for it,” Simon said with a smile. “Dreadnought.”

The word was completely useless and only for drama’s sake. The truth was that he summoned his Overlord Class outfit, only for the Fiendmask spell to cover it and quickly alter its appearance. The black, spiky Overlord armor turned into a perfect copy of the late Leonard’s Dreadnought outfit.

“No way…” Anna smiled ear to ear, her hands inspecting the armor. “Is this an illusion?”

“Even better. Fiendmask is a spell that coats my body in a shell of miasma. It’s the same principle behind a Class outfit, except I control how it looks.” Simon looked at his hand. The effect was so perfect that he doubted anyone could see through it. “The effect is purely cosmetic, but it lasts one hour and only dispels when I take sufficient damage. The spell’s only flaw is that it provides no protection against divination or magical detection, which is why it’s not too commonly used.”

Anna chuckled. “How fortunate then that you have a Perk that lets you do exactly that, then.”

“Indeed. Thanks to it and Anathemic Secrecy, I can now use my Class in public… just under a false name.” He deactivated his Class outfit and put his arms around his fiancée’s waist. “Have I worked hard enough to earn a reward?”

“Mayhaps…” Anna set her book aside and put her arms around his neck. “But I’m afraid the Anna Academy has higher standards than most…”

“Can I convince you to give me extra credit?” he asked as he began to pull up her skirt, his hands touching the Brands of Sloth and Gluttony he had put on her thighs a few weeks back. Anna had insisted, half because of the experience boost and poison immunity benefits, half because it spiced things up.

“That’ll depend on your… performance.”

Fifteen minutes and one broken desk later, Simon and Anna rested on a bed of grimoires—the Overlord having ‘accidentally’ caused a bookshelf to fall after slamming against it during their passionate lovemaking. Simon felt a little awkward making love on furniture like this, but the feeling of a naked Anna crawling on his chest dispelled all his doubts.

“You weren’t kidding about that Brand of Gluttony magnifying the wearer’s pleasure,” Anna mused. That was the benefit she had gotten the most use of besides the poison immunity. “We should spend some time apart now and then, or else I fear we won’t do anything productive.”

Simon sighed. They had been making love more often since Fort Corinte had fewer prying eyes than Castle Carcas, but she was right; it was mostly a distraction from that gaping sense of frustration.

“I’m doing something wrong,” he admitted aloud. “My experience gains have stalled out. We’ve been here for a month and I haven’t been able to gain a single level.”

The Poison Gardens’ loss had been a tremendous blow. The Berwick Islands were one of the safest and most militarized regions of the Empire, which meant most dangerous local monster species had long been exterminated, and no dangerous criminals with high bounties roamed the land. Green Mother cultists were mostly Classless farmers, so executing them provided no benefits, and the beasts he hunted as part of his noble duties were no match against anyone with a Crestone. His father-in-law had tried to supply him with monsters and criminals from the mainland to execute, but Louis and Euphemia’s forces already monopolized those.

In short, he had run out of things worth killing.

“It’s not just the lack of enemies,” Simon complained. “I can feel I’m doing something wrong when I judge people. I can tell I receive less experience than I should from lordcraft.”

“I figured as much when you stopped attending audiences to focus on your spellcasting.” Anna searched the books they had thrown around and recovered the one she had carried into the room earlier. “Which is why I brought you this.”

Simon glanced at the cover and groaned upon reading the title. “An Introduction to Fatebinding? Really?”

“Now, now, don’t be like that, you know how much I love this game.”

“It is fun, I will admit it.” Fatebinding was a game used for both pleasure and divination that revolved around twenty-two cards representing the Noble Classes, fifty-six representing minor suits, and an extra card themed after the Overlord. “But what does it have to do with my leveling problem?”

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“It will help by providing insight,” Anna stated as she flipped the pages of the book until she found the one she was looking for. “Here, take a look.”

Simon glanced at a picture of an archivist in a library with an eye for a face, a glowing lantern illuminating four symbols representing a sword, a coin, a cup, and a wand.

The Librarian – Arcana 21

Most mysterious of the Classes is the lost Librarian, whose Crestone has been unaccounted for for centuries—though blueprints remain. Representing both the archivist and the archive, it represents ultimate knowledge, wisdom, and understanding. Whereas the Crafter seeks to build for constructive ends and the Mage revels in his power, the Librarian toils for enlightenment’s sake alone.

The Librarian represents the end of a journey and reflection, whether it is the fulfillment of a dream and the honoring of a great achievement, or a false, unfulfilling end brought by shortcuts and a lack of closure.

Upright: Completion, Wholeness, Integration, Closure, End of the Journey.

Reversed: Lack of Closure, Shortcuts, Delays, Unfulfillment, False End.

“I suppose an undead lich with all the world’s secrets would indeed embody the Librarian well,” Simon conceded, “but I still don’t see your point.”

“All the Noble Classes represent an archetype. The Commander is the general leading soldiers in battle, the tactician with the plan, and the leader who always knows what action to take. Since my Lord Class is its vassal, understanding it let me figure out what worked best for it too.” Anna flipped the pages to the last one. “This particular edition was written before the Reformation, back when the Overlord was a reviled symbol of evil rather than the sanitized version the Church of the Light created through censorship.”