Chapter 64: The Season of the Minotaur (13)

Simon examined his minions like a shepherd with his flock, while disguised as the Old Man of the Forest.

His servants had grown in strength and numbers since he first settled the region. Three dozen cultists bearing various Brands and trusted with knowledge of the secret paths leading to the Halls of the Minotaur, a whole tribe of gargoyles, toadmen, a small army of imps, many types of animated plants, wraiths… over three hundred monsters and servants now directly answered to Simon.

Among them were seven monster Class users: the Sisters, Carrock the Illusionist, Ulmos the Pictomancer, Gregory the Juggler, and Grimm the Acrobat. Only Carrock was absent by virtue of keeping watch over the fairy ring in the forest, but Simon had already briefed him on their plans through telepathy.

The Sisters were a trio of banshee wraiths who had been granted the Courtesan, Songstress, and Orator Crestones. Although limited to roaming the Halls of the Minotaur rather than the wider forest, their enchanted voices meshed well with their Classes. No adventurer party that ever reached the area survived them.

Ulmos the slime was Simon’s own creation, a purple ooze which had developed a primitive intellect that allowed it to claim a Class. The unspeaking blob mostly spent its time drawing traps across the forest or the Dungeon, especially its deeper sections.

And finally, Gregory the Juggler gargoyle played with three skulls while Grimm the imp sat on his head, his jester hat jiggling from its bells.

“Are those new ones?” Simon asked with curiosity.

“Caught these wee rabbits at the pond,” Gregory chuckled darkly. A rather tall gargoyle, he had taken to wearing white and red clownish face paint to go along with his Class outfit. “They didn’t run fast enough.”

“The third did, but then he tripped, and I drowned him in the mud,” Grimm added gleefully. “Like a piggie!”

What was up with those two? They had killed more adventurers than all his other minions combined. Simon never bothered to watch them fight since he didn’t micromanage. He didn’t think they would be a match for the Paladin or his companions, but his gut told him they would handle themselves well anyway…

“I have gathered you all here for an important mission,” Simon said as he showed them a highly detailed and Pictomancer-approved drawing of their target. “This is our newest sacrifice, Lady Satine of Renais. She may soon wander these woods in the company of powerful adventurers. If you cross paths with her somehow, I want you to capture her. I need her alive.” Simon squinted at his more murderous troops and insisted, “Alive.”

“Can we rape her at least?” Grimm the imp asked.

Simon glared in disgust at the small demon. “No.”

“Awww…” the imp lowered his head in disappointment. “Grimm’s going to die a virgin at this rate…”

“Just find a rabbit or something,” Gregory suggested.

“But I like girls that are bigger than me!”

A cultist raised his hand. “What about her companions, m’lord? Should we kill them?”

“If you can. One of them possesses a Paladin Vassal Class—” Telling them that they would be fighting the actual Paladin might spook them too much, “—and another is suspected to be an elven archmage in disguise. Don’t hesitate to retreat if you feel outmatched.”

Most of his minions exchanged worried and uneasy glances, with a few major exceptions.

“I’ve never killed an elf before,” Dorian the cultist said with eagerness, his dagger drawn. That one who seemed disturbingly eager to participate in the organization’s bloodiest work… “I wonder if they bleed sap.”

“Worry not, I will not send you to fight such powerful foes without proper equipment.” Simon snapped his fingers, and undead servants arrived with a crate full of weapons and shields supplied by the Cobweb, alongside enchanted accessories Simon and his allies personally crafted. “Take what you need.”

Simon watched his minions grab whatever they wanted from the crate. Most of the supplies were perfectly normal and functional, but a handful of the weapons and enchanted accessories were cursed with a magical backdoor making them extremely vulnerable to scrying from afar. It had taken Duchar, Simon, and Cassandra weeks to refine those enough that they could observe them from afar with a crystal ball.

The unfortunate truth was that Princess Satine, Robert Flauros, Alphonse, and their allies wore items protecting them from hostile divination and had mages enchant their borrowed estates to protect from scrutiny; a rather judicious precaution considering the kind of surveillance the Paladin usually warranted. The only way to get around that restriction would be to have them willingly wear an item that could serve as a focus, and gifts would be heavily scrutinized. It had to be something Alphonse’s group would pick up without feeling threatened by it.

Simon would rather avoid sacrificing his forces, but should any adventurer kill them, they would likely rob their corpses and hopefully pick up a booby-trapped item without noticing its true nature. He also had his undead plant a few more of the cursed treasures across the Darkwood. Nothing too obvious, just a dagger under a root or an unclaimed purse on a corpse, props that wouldn’t look out of place…

In short, if Simon couldn’t send someone to infiltrate the princess’ estate, he would settle on spying on her through her bodyguards’ equipment. He was casting as wide of a net as he could, hoping at least one of the cursed items would make its way to Alphonse’s group. He was pretty sure most of these efforts would go to waste, but he only needed one to work.

Now, it was just a question of patience and discretion…

Simon spent the next few weeks biding his time, following events, and watching Alphonse’s party from afar.

Odette hosted talks between the Flauros and the princess at first, but formal exchanges quickly moved from official gatherings at the Midnight Market to private meetings at the princess’ estate, from which Kano was swiftly excluded. The best she could gather was that Lady Anselma Flauros, Patriate’s sister and Robert Flauros’ stepmother, briefly came to visit them at one point before departing. What secret plot they had hatched remained hidden from Simon’s gaze for the moment.

Moreover, the princess had apparently questioned Odette about ‘Samuel Titivillus,’ likely on Alphonse’s behalf. Simon wisely decided to relocate alongside Cassandra to another house away from the Midnight Market and the Renais estate to avoid discovery. The pendant would protect him only so much.

Lauriane hadn’t left the Goetia Research Center in weeks either, and while she did invite the princess for a private tour of the facility, this meeting led nowhere. The Cobweb’s intel confirmed that the White Unicorn had agreed to Euphemia’s terms, with plans for the princess to lead them and proclaim Magvolia’s independence. The landing was apparently planned for a week or two after the Autumnal Equinox, so Simon and his allies had time to complete the next part of the ritual before the invasion.

The alliance with the White Unicorn couldn’t happen any sooner for the Church Party. The news from the front was growing more and more ominous for Euphemia’s cause. Scaland had apparently attacked the Berwick Islands, cutting off Lord Maublanc Paimon from the mainland. Castle Carcas had been set ablaze by a dragon that matched Vouivre’s description—Shabram thankfully confirmed that Anna was currently safe in Frightwall, though her husband had unfortunately yet to get himself killed—alongside most of the coast, exploiting the fact that most of the troops and fleet were occupied on the continent. Dassein was pushing deep into the imperial heartland from Telluria too.

Euphemia would soon find herself surrounded on all sides if this continued. Her fortune might turn if Magvolia fell, in which case she would be able to reposition troops elsewhere.

Overall, Simon was now convinced that Louis would eventually win the civil war so long as the secret airship production facility and Goetia remained under his control. Cocagne and the Berwick Islands helped Euphemia force a stalemate, but no force in the world could forestall an army of Vassal Class users backed by industrialized air bombardments.

The greater danger, however, was quietly escaping most people’s notice: the slow and steady increase in monster attacks.

Simon had been closely following the news for nearly eight months now across this reign, and reports were getting more and more frequent. Now he couldn’t read an article without a mention of goblinoids raiding villages, hydras waking up from hibernation, spontaneous undead plagues, or dragon sightings. Most blamed this development on the collapse of law and order, preventing the army from keeping the wildlife in check, but Simon knew the issue ran deeper than that. The Darkwood’s miasma kept spawning more and more creatures only held in check by his power.

The comet was still a season away from appearing in the sky, and yet its influence could already be felt across the world.

Another big quake struck Telluria, too, Simon thought as he finished reading his newspaper and set it aside. It’s the second one this month after the one in Fablan…

He couldn’t shake the feeling that all these small events would eventually boil over into something awful as soon as the comet showed up. He hoped to live long enough to witness it with his own eyes and assess the danger.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Simon,” Cassandra called out from the next room over. “We caught a fish.”

Simon’s head immediately perked up, and he all but bolted out of his seat. “Which one?”

“Their rogue. She grabbed one of our enchanted daggers off an undead.”

Finally!

How does the saying go? Greed killed the thief? Simon mused as he walked into the dining room of the house he shared with Cassandra. She was sitting around a table with her two apprentices, all of them clad in their Witch Class outfits. Their hands all pointed at a single crystal ball.

Now that they had crafted a third Witch Crestone, Cassandra had finally been able to form a coven with two cultists—a gaunt, apothecary woman called Nora and an aged midwife called Mebbeth—whom she had taken on as students. Their coven-related abilities, which included the ability to cast certain spells as a group beyond the Tiers they could access individually, more than made up for her assistants’ lack of levels. Their divinations had especially sharpened enough to partly pierce through the veil of miasma shrouding the Darkwood from sight.

“Vision,” Cassandra cast, mana shimmering between her and her allies. Simon briefly saw a triangle of energy surround them as he sat at their table. The crystal ball shook in response, its smooth surface shining to reflect the world around its visual medium.

The images on it solidified into a view of the Darkwood’s edge, of trees and poisonous clouds. The face of the redhead rogue flashed, showing her grin. Her clothes were scarlet red, and her other hand held a fiery sword.

“–you should just drop it, Mel,” Alphonse’s voice said. Simon could see him at the edge of the crystal ball, clad in the Paladin’s Class armor.

“It’s a silver dagger, Al,” the redhead rogue, ‘Mel’ said. “They’re super duper effective against demons and monsters! Plus, it shines!”

“If you want a silver dagger, we can buy one at the market. Everything in this place has been soaked in miasma for the Light knows how long.”

“No thank you. That woman’s wares are subpar while this is free.” Mel played with the dagger, which briefly caused the images to blur. “I didn’t receive any negative notification from this one, so I’m keeping it.”

“Fine.” Alphonse audibly sighed before addressing someone beyond the crystal ball’s view. “So?”

“So we’ve passed through this place before.” Simon froze upon recognizing Robert Flauros’ voice. “I recognize the marks I left on that tree three hours back.”

“But we’ve been moving in a straight line…” Alphonse replied. “I think you were right, Mel. Some kind of spell prevents us from reaching deeper into the woods.”

“Thank you!” the rogue replied, raising her hands. “I kept telling you! Either the trees are moving, or we aren’t!”

“Can you open up a path, Lady Satine?” Tiella’s voice asked from outside the crystal ball’s visual range.

“I don’t know what spell prevents us from advancing, let alone how to dispel it,” Satine replied. Mel the rogue turned her way, so Simon could finally see her in a Class outfit made of a white tunic and a skirt with black tights, boots, and a snowy fur cap adorned with a golden feather. A Theurge. “I will have to ask my master.”

“Or we could burn down these woods,” Tiella said darkly. “Finish what Louis started.”