Chapter 7: The School of the Doomed (2)

Balzam Magnos couldn’t organize an archive to save his life.

Simon didn’t know what he was expecting from his father’s secret private collection, but sheer chaos wasn’t it. Books on genealogy sat sandwiched between notes on cosmic astronomy and half-baked plans to invade the western continent. Browsing through it all gave him the mother of all headaches.

Simon didn’t think it was an attempt to befuddle visitors—the code his father used already locked his secrets shut. No, Balzam Magnos simply explored one venture after another before moving on to the next without concern for his successor.

This strongly reinforced Simon’s suspicions that while his father had made contingencies in case he died, he hadn’t seen his demise coming either, or else he would have given his successor directions or clearer hints.

A few general things shone through, however. First of all, Father had become obsessed with astronomy. A good third of the books and instruments revolved around the study of celestial bodies, the zodiac, and star magic. Father didn’t strike Simon as the kind of person to idly explore a science for its own sake, so he must have been looking for something among the stars. Was that part of his commandment to ‘bring down the sky’?

Second, Father had done some extensive genealogical research when it came to the House of Magnos. He had fully recreated the entire lineage all the way to a certain ‘Elios Magnos’, who had apparently lived over four hundred years ago during Overlord Mardok’s time. Nothing too extraordinary at first glance, except for one tiny detail.

That ancient ancestor’s date of death was missing.

Finally, Father had accumulated quite the collection of handwritten and edited maps. Most were meant for military uses, like the detailed layout of Fablan’s royal castle, but the ones showing the known world also represented islands Simon had never heard of. One showed eight crosses spread across the world, with one on Telluria’s eastern edge. The annotation confused Simon.

‘Demonbarrows; at least four of them still missing. Fablan, Uyo? Maybe Muse or Magvolia? Floating continents?’

Demonbarrows? He had never heard of the term. Another map was almost identical to the former, except the crosses showed different places and had names associated with them. One pointed to the Princedom of Beleth with Duchar Honorius’ name written on it.

‘Potential mentors and teachers,’ Simon read the annotation. Did Father expect him to teach necromancy lessons to his heir? So many mysteries and so few breadcrumbs to follow.

“Have you ever heard of Elios Magnos?” Simon asked Duchar as they browsed his father’s archive. He had allowed the man to check the library and item display in case any of them carried a magical trap of some kind.

“I know no man with such a name, Your Majesty.”

Simon’s tongue clicked in his mouth. “I am no ruler,” he said, “and the world mustn’t know either.”

“Yes, yes, of course, worry not. My daughter and I are not social people. We mostly keep, should I say…” Duchar chuckled. “Dead silent company.”

Good grief, was that what passed for humor among necromancers nowadays? “What about demonbarrows?” Simon asked while showing him the appropriate map. “Do you know the term?”

“Demonbarrows?” Duchar stroked his goatee. “Barrows are burial mounds, so the name should refer to a demon’s burial place… perhaps those are locations where fiends are sealed?”

It seemed Father didn’t trust Duchar with his secrets. Were they related to the reigns?

“I do, however, know what this place is,” Duchar said upon pointing at the cross on Telluria’s eastern edge. “It is the old capital of the kish people.”

“The kish?”

“An ancient beastmen empire that ruled Telluria before the Doom wiped them out. It fell overnight when their capital crumbled into a den of monsters. The beastmen say the imperial palace is still cursed to this day and refuse to set foot in it.” Duchar cleared his throat. “I had a beastman slave who could have told Your Majesty more, but alas, his soul is not with us anymore. I would suggest purchasing another at the market if Your Majesty seeks to learn more.”

The fact that he had to explicitly specify that only the beastman’s soul had departed convinced Simon to quickly change the subject. Why was his father interested in a fallen empire? Endymion didn’t even control that part of Telluria yet.

Then again, should he even investigate? Simon was free of the palace’s intrigue for however long it would take his siblings to realize he had tricked them. Shouldn’t he enjoy his newfound liberty and gain experience rather than pursue his father’s ghost? He didn’t owe the old man a thing.

Simon feared things would not be so simple. “Did my father give you specific directions beyond just keeping his inheritance?”

To his surprise, Duchar nodded in confirmation. “His Late Majesty commissioned two projects from me and cancelled another a few months before his death. I was wondering if you wished me to continue on with it.”

“Why ask me?” Simon frowned. “You owe me no oath of service.”

Duchar smiled slightly. “Your Majesty is the Overlord. I cannot fathom why you would seek to hide it, but surely there will come a time when you sit on the Crimson Throne and my research shall rest on your goodwill. Not to mention that the brand I have received is most useful and that I would rather keep it.”

Cunning old fox… Simon had no intention of ruling as Overlord, whether in this reign or the next, but this suited him just fine. “What projects are you working on?”

“The first project was the development of the obstacle course on the second level. The second was a blood tracking spell meant to hunt down relatives.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Surely a good divination spell should achieve the same result.”

“That would be true in most cases, but Overlord Balzam wanted something stronger. Something that could track a relative through divination protections. A rather odd choice of research, but who am I to question the Overlord’s wisdom?”

Interesting. Did it have something to do with that mysterious ancestor of theirs? Or was Father looking for a way to track down Louis and the others, should they rebel against him? Either possibility was likely.

“What was that about an obstacle course?” Simon inquired.

“This complex’s second level was turned into a trap-filled maze at His Majesty’s insistence for the purpose of testing my… my creations. During his visits, His Late Majesty delighted in releasing living prisoners inside with the promise that they could go free once they reached the maze’s exit, then proceeded to observe them struggle for their freedom with a crystal ball.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“And, of course, I assume that this exit did not actually exist?” Simon guessed and received a rancid smirk in return. Balzam the Cruel once again lived up to his name. “I assume that you don’t particularly miss the undead you use in this maze, if they’re meant to be tested?”

“Indeed. Should Your Majesty wish to test them himself, I can arrange a handful of duels.”

That was exactly what Simon had been thinking. Destroying undead was about as disturbing as slaying living prisoners, if less guilt-inducing, but it should let him level-up.

“Then you may continue with these projects,” Simon decided. “What was the cancelled one?”

“It was a helm that would copy the wearer’s mind and then overwrite the next wearer’s thoughts with them,” Duchar said with frightening nonchalance. “The goal was to copy His Late Majesty’s spirit and have it possess the next Overlord, hopefully a direct descendant for greater compatibility.”

Simon remained silent as a gravestone, his blood boiling in his veins. That cruel bastard… he never had any intention of letting his children inherit anything.

“Alas, the Overlord’s immunity against mind-reading was too strong for the spell to breach, so we could not copy his mind for a transfer and had to scrap the project,” Duchar said with zero remorse or guilt whatsoever. “A shame, truly. I told His Late Majesty that there were easier ways to safeguard his soul beyond death, like lichdom or reanimation as a ghost, but he wouldn’t even entertain those thoughts.”

“Good.” Simon shook his head in disgust. “Just… Just carry on with the blood relative tracking spell and obstacle course, would you?”

“As Your Majesty wishes.” Duchar cleared his throat. “If I may ask a request of you… Would you kindly bless my daughter Cassandra with the Devil Brand of Sloth? I beseeched your father to do so, but he insisted that I finish the tracking spell first. A stronger apprentice would help me progress faster.”

“Why not?” Simon didn’t see any particular reason to deny his wish, especially since he could remove the brand at will anyway. It would be a good opportunity to test its power.

Simon transformed into his Overlord Class when Cassandra arrived, then attempted to use his Devil Brand ability. He only had to think about it for a floating, ghostly image of Duchar’s own skin-sigil to appear in the palm of his hand.