Chapter 81: The Elf Conspiracy (8)

Simon boarded an airship for Lord Albert’s holdings the moment he left the Goetia Research Facility.

Leonard and Meredith were a bit surprised to see him return without the Malphases, whereas Belzemine looked crestfallen. She understood exactly what had happened to her fellow elf and his daughter, which shook her to her core.

“I’ll tell you everything on our way to our destination,” Simon warned them. “There’s no time to waste.”

He couldn’t allow the Cobweb to hold Eole. At best, they would sell her into slavery; and at worst, they would deliver her to Vouivre and let her bind a Zodiac Fiend to her service. He refused to let his friend fall into her claws, or allow the devastation that would follow.

Lauriane thankfully lent him a crew and a number of soldiers alongside a decree granting him the authority to arrest Lord Albert for his crimes. His holdings were located on the Magvolian coast—which made sense for a smuggling den—less than half a day’s flight away from the Goetia Research Center.

He hoped he wasn’t too late.

“Meredith, Leonard,” Simon said once he gathered his retainers in the airship’s private salon. “It is time for you to learn the truth.”

Meredith scowled. “The Malphas family has been arrested, haven’t they?”

“Indeed,” Simon confirmed. “I have been working with Imperial Intelligence to root out a spy ring of traitors to the state. Patriate Malphas counted among them. He and his daughter are currently in custody under accusations of sharing sensitive information with Illusea.”

The news of the Merchant’s demise couldn’t be allowed to leave the Goetia Research Facility, and he didn’t want to add an additional burden onto Belzemine’s heart. Her guilt and anguish were already written all over her face.

“I knew something was off about them,” Meredith said. “But I didn’t expect the Lord-Treasurer to betray the empire.”

“His treachery runs deep,” Simon replied. “We are now going to arrest another traitor, Lord Albert, and recover my retainer Eole. Our priority will be to extract her alive. You are authorized to execute anyone present should they resist arrest.”

“Lord Albert would be foolish to do so, especially with Lady Firewand present,” Leonard pointed out. “He is a minor lord with few forces to his name. Opposing the War Party would be suicide.”

“Fools are always more common than we think,” Simon mused. “Now leave me with Lady Firewand. I have something to discuss with her.”

His other retainers excused themselves, and Simon found himself alone with a clearly crushed Belzemine. She didn’t even dare to meet his eyes or face him, instead staring at the floor with immense remorse.

“You feel guilt over betraying your kin and homeland to me?” Simon inquired. “Even though it was all part of my plan from the start?”

The silence he received was an answer in itself. Belzemine had lost her brands and received a golden opportunity to leave for Illusea, yet she instead chose to betray them to the Overlord. She chose to be his willing slave.

Belzemine must have looked exactly the same way prior to taking her own life in the previous reign.

The mere thought chilled Simon to the core… but that was then, when she was alone and directionless. He could still salvage this and save her from making a terrible mistake. He could bring her back from the brink, tell her what she needed to hear to cling to life.

And he hated himself for what he would have to tell her; something that disgusted him to his very core.

“You don’t need to feel guilt over this, Agnes,” Simon said kindly. “Remorse is for those who could have affected an outcome, and there was no chance their plan would have succeeded. I had foreseen all outcomes. Disobedience wouldn’t have changed anything.”

This time, Belzemine dared to look up at him, and what he saw in her eyes… That begging prayer for absolution, like a beaten dog searching for her master’s approval, was perhaps the saddest thing he had ever seen.

Why do we have to do this again and again? Simon thought grimly. Right, because this is the Crimson Throne’s curse.

He could change his future, but not four hundred years of suffering.

“The brands are never truly gone, and I can reapply yours at will,” Simon lied through his teeth. “They will reappear one day, once I am ready to assume my throne with you at my side. Freedom is an illusion.”

It was a lie, but one Belzemine wanted to believe in; a gentle reassurance that she hadn’t betrayed her homeland out of her own free will, that it wouldn’t have made any difference, and that she had no real agency.

“I will never let you go, Agnes,” he told her. “Do not worry. You will belong to me forever.”

She was brought to tears, and softly said three words so low he could barely hear them.

“I love you.”

She sounded so defeated when she said that, so utterly crushed, that Simon didn’t have the heart or strength to answer her. He just stared at this pitiful creature with all the compassion he could muster.

Belzemine loved the Overlord in spite of everything. Such was the power they held over her for centuries.

I swear you will be free one day, Simon promised himself. Even from yourself.

They reached Lord Albert’s holding by night.

The man ruled over a small keep atop a low hill overlooking the port hamlet of Hellmouth, a tiny fishing town near a creek facing the Dragonsea. The settlement was hardly a fraction of the size of Amnadiel’s own port, which Simon guessed made it a haven for smugglers wishing to avoid imperial attention.

However, he immediately noticed a quaint oddity through the porthole during their descent: a large, dark carrack ship with four masts, black tattered sails, and a dark blue hull. A golden skull figurehead glimmered at its front, and a flag representing a crimson bat fluttered atop it. It seemed completely crewless and so ancient Simon wondered how it could even float, but he quickly sensed the Dark radiating from its old wood.

The whole carrack felt like a floating Dungeon.

“I recognize that flag,” Leonard said, his voice quieter with wariness. “The Ravenous.”

“The Necromancer’s ship?” Simon scowled. He hadn’t expected that. “Isn’t it a crime in Endymion to open one’s port to pirates?”

“It is, but he could have stormed the port by force,” Meredith replied.

“We would be seeing more burning buildings and corpses in the streets if that were the case,” Leonard pointed out. “We could strike with the airship. The Ravenous is said to ferry hordes of undead, but we could sink it and capture the Necromancer with Lady Firewand’s help.”

Simon considered the proposal before setting it aside. “Our priority is to arrest Lord Albert and recover Eole,” he said. “There’s a risk the latter is aboard the Ravenous, in which case a bombardment would kill her, and we don’t know what the Necromancer is doing here at all. We will investigate first.”

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Simon had died enough times to learn that picking fights with individuals whose strength he hadn’t fully assessed yet always led to disaster. Shabram’s intel put Amadeus Voltobauta at level fifty or so, but this was based on guesswork and she had been wrong before. Not to mention Silk or high-level Cobweb operatives could be present at the location as well.

There were too many unknowns.

“Change of plans; raise House Malphas’ flag and send light signals to ask for permission to land so they’ll think we’re still with the traitors,” Simon ordered his retainers. “Forward a message back to Lauriane and ask for reinforcements too.”

He didn’t want to start a battle now, but the threat of force should be enough to cause everyone to listen.

Since Hellmouth lacked the infrastructure for airship landings, the group had no choice but to have it hover in front of the gatehouse, bring down the ramp, and climb down. No horns nor trumpets heralded their arrival, but a couple of guards did arrive to greet them at the gatehouse.

“I am Simon Magnos, Baron of Whispermire,” Simon introduced himself when he and his soldiers climbed down from the airship. “Where is Lord Albert? I must speak with him urgently.”