Chapter 87: Mask of the Jester King (5)

The Commander’s Class outfit looked quite good on Simon.

It was said that the elves took inspiration from oriental traditions like those of Fablan when they crafted the Commander and Monk Crestones, and it showed. Unlike the more standard armors used on the mainland, the Commander’s cuirasse mostly used leather straps, red lacquerware, and black iron scales in its design. A dark blue cape fluttered from the shoulders, and the golden horned helmet hid his face’s lower half behind a plate of steel. Its manifested weapons took the form of a long curved sword and a non-folding war flag-fan, likely used for signaling troops. It looked less intimidating than the Overlord, but still regal and fearsome.

A pity it itched all over.

Although the Commander Class didn’t despise him as much as the Paladin, it still rejected Simon like the Merchant before it. A terrible headache burned his skull from within, tiring him. He could tell that the information that should have flooded his mind and enlightened him was being actively denied.

“Your Majesty?” Belzemine inquired.

“I am… alright,” Simon replied. His father’s bedchambers were empty except for the two of them, which would allow them to test out the Commander’s abilities. “Cast the spell on me.”

His elf archmage waved her hand at him. “Aegis.”

Simon shivered when he sensed all the spell’s effects took hold of him. He immediately turned his mind to Shabram through the brand. “Did you receive the buffs?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she telepathically replied from the other side of the castle.

This confirmed that One For All worked through the Devil Brands. This opened up many possibilities. He could empower an entire army of branded minions no matter the distance, turning them into almighty champions while he bunkered in a safe location.

However, that also meant that a well-placed debuff or effect like Euphemia’s Stasis targeting him would disable his entire support network. This Perk encouraged leading from the rear and the safety of an army’s back, which made sense. The Commander likely gained experience from winning battles through his soldiers or executing strategies without necessarily taking to the field or landing killing blows himself.

That wasn’t the Overlord way. The Crimson Throne rewarded violent destruction, personal malevolence, and terrifying victims up close. He only received experience for arbitrary and merciless leadership, not necessarily well-oiled tactical maneuvering.

One For All feels like a trap, Simon thought. It’s powerful, but discourages taking direct action for fear of incapacitating all of my followers. Lovestruck can only transfer an ailment if the target isn’t affected by it.

Come to think of it, could he actually marry multiple people and have the Title still apply? Or would the effect limit itself to one betrothed alone? Was a verbal agreement all that it took for the System to recognize a valid marriage?

Simon had never fully explored Lovestruck’s limits and tactical applications. For all he knew, he could ‘betroth’ himself to an imp or his Phantom Steed and shift ailments to it in the future.

Either way, Unyielding Essence might eventually grant him so many immunities to ailments and debuffs, but it wasn’t foolproof yet. There were so many nefarious effects in this world that complete and total imperviousness seemed like a feeble dream. The likes of the Oracle would inevitably find a chink in the armor and strike him when he least expected it.

Perfect Coordination sounded like a safer bet, if relatively limited. Sparing his allies the downsides of his Dreadful Aura or friendly fire from his spells opened more opportunities… but One For All could probably do the same by sharing buffs providing immunities to his followers.

Simon turned Tactical Acumen on Belzemine to test it out next. He sensed her anti-divination measures clash with his own Perk, but he had already learned so much about her in the past that he could infer the rest.

Belzemine, alias Agnes Firewand.

Humanoid/Fairy

Level 78 Healer, Level 63 Pyromancer, Level 56 Gladiator, Level 49 Game Master

Weakness: Likely Corrosion, Mind, Metal, emotional damage, dependency on Overlord for guidance, suicidal guilt…

That was good, but nothing Simon couldn’t have gathered through the reigns, and most powerful people carried anti-divination measures. Strategic Mind’s intuitive grasp of tactics also sounded redundant with the reigns. Sure, both would let him quicken information accumulation and maximize its uses, but he still had nearly ninety lifetimes to gather intel on his own…

“What Perk would be the most useful to absorb in your own opinion, Agnes?” Simon asked.

“It depends on what Your Majesty wishes to become and focus on,” she replied. “If you wish to lead armies like your father did against Gargauth, One For All will carry you to victory. If you would rather be better informed against assassins, Tactical Acumen would help the most.”

True, what did Simon hope to become? Maybe he was approaching it the wrong way. He had been focusing too much on Perks that were individually useful rather than considering how they could synergize with his other abilities. Not to mention that there were so many Noble Classes out there that Simon could wait to see what they could offer him first and steal a Commander Perk later. Uncle Paimon had surrendered it easily enough, so Simon could easily take the Crestone again in a future reign.

But consuming some Perks now would improve his ability to seize better ones in the future…

Argh, why was it so hard to choose?!

“Will I be able to know what’s best if I gain a higher Intelligence stat?” Simon questioned Belzemine.

“A higher Intelligence stat boosts information retention, memory, and analysis, alongside improving crafting and spell mastery,” Belzemine explained, “but it does not grant greater wisdom.”

No, or else Balzam Magnos would have known better than to keep antagonizing his children, or Lord Paimon would have thought twice about surrendering his Crestone. Intellect didn’t protect people from emotions or rash decisions; it only made a man better at justifying them.

Either way, the next High Council meeting would begin soon, so Simon placed the Commander Crestone back in his Inventory. The icons from the last reign had disappeared by now after having shown dark screens previously. That mystery remained quite puzzling.

This has to be a hint to how the reigns function, Simon thought as he put on his Overlord armor again—which felt a thousand times more comfortable than the Commander one—and reapplied his Fiendmask. I will ask Mastemo for full access to the Church’s archives. Their Astromancy and Chronomancy research ought to give me more insight into how the reigns functions.

“Any progress on analyzing the Mana Sword?” Simon asked Belzemine.

“Not much, Your Majesty,” she admitted. “I have searched for any sign that it received a divine benediction of some sort, but couldn’t find any.”

Simon had a bad feeling about that. Surely the Mana Goddess’ benediction should have at least left some magical traces in its wake, even after having been exhausted. A key detail was escaping him.

Could the Oracle have lied about the benediction? Simon wondered. It might have been just propaganda or hogwash to give Louis a morale boost, but I don’t think he would have been foolish enough to use the weapon without testing it first.

Simon banished those thoughts from his mind and teleported with Belzemine into the High Council’s chamber. Like a true Overlord, he was fashionably late and waited until everyone else had already arrived to take his seat.

As usual, Euphemia, Mastemo, Shabram, and Lauriane were already present, although the latter looked tenser than usual. Dassein had taken Louis’ place as Marshal, with Lord Paimon joining in for the session. Patriate Malphas was also allowed to attend what would be his final session, albeit with manacles. He had taken quite a few bruises from his interrogation and looked very unkept. His expression was devoid of hope.

He knew he wouldn’t live past this meeting.

“Why such a long face, my friend?” Simon taunted him. “Aren’t you happy to meet your successor?”

Patriate found the strength to glare at him, after which the High Council’s doors opened to introduce the new Lord Treasurer.

“Your Majesty, esteemed members of the High Council.” Odette Kano bowed upon entering the room, her newfound Merchant Crestone glowing on her brooch. “It is a great honor for me to stand before you today.”

“Let me introduce you to our new Merchant and Lord-Treasurer, Odette Kano, mayor of Whispermire,” Simon said. “A woman and entrepreneur of great talents who has caught my eye.”

Euphemia didn’t hide her distaste. “Another one of your whores?”

“Euphemia,” Simon chided her. “Miss Kano is a married woman.”

“If Your Majesty allows me, my first request will be my husband’s execution,” Odette said sternly. “Although I am pleased by the honor of this nomination, I wonder why you selected me.”

“Besides the fact that you skillfully mounted an illegal manalith and Crestone smuggling operation under our noses?” Simon replied, with Odette scowling in response. “I have had my eyes on you for a while, Miss Kano, both on the matter of your skills and your plans for an expedition in Uyo. I believe the region’s ruins hold power that will soon serve my empire.”

“An illegal manalith operation?” Lauriane asked sharply.

“Lady Kano operated an illegal manalith mine in Whispermire, whose exploitation will begin soon,” Shabram replied. “Her skills in assembling her operation and keeping it under wraps are what convinced us to recruit her.”

“Nothing escapes Imperial Intelligence…” Odette straightened up and bowed her head at Lauriane. “I apologize for the deception, Your Grace. I feared you would confiscate the mine and put Whispermire under your direct control had you learned the truth.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I would have,” Lauriane replied, squinting. “You would do well not to hide anything from me again. We are through with traitors at this table.”

“Yes, of course.” Odette glanced at Euphemia. “Either way, although I understand your concerns, Your Grace, I assure you I will do everything in my power to earn your trust and faith in my abilities.”

Euphemia scoffed dismissively at her words, while Mastemo clasped his hands. “While I am pleased to make Lady Kano’s acquaintance and I am certain she will prove up to task… why did Your Majesty take Lord Malphas out of his cell and bring him here?”

“As a lesson,” Simon replied ominously, “To all of you.”

That brought a dreadful silence to the room. Patriate looked down at the table while trying to muster whatever dignity he had left.

“You should be happy, Patriate. My son put your sisters in chains and we have reached an agreement. They will serve me from now on in exchange for my… tolerance when it comes to their kin.” Lady Justine had been quicker to sell out than her sister, but Anselma too surrendered when it meant sparing her niece and stepson. “They bought your daughter’s life, although obviously I couldn’t extend that same mercy to you.”

Even if he didn’t have a bone to pick with Patriate for his earlier sabotage and murder of Simon during his third reign, what happened with Norbelle had taught him how fragile the whole masquerade was. He had to reinforce his disguise and remind everyone what kind of man Balzam Magnos was if he hoped to last a month.

Simon had considered many ways to deal with Malphas, some too cruel for his taste, others too quick and efficient for Balzam Magnos, but he had eventually found a rather ironic and appropriate method. One that would also grant him experience for the murder.

So Simon snapped his fingers, and a cupbearer brought a goblet full of wine to Patriate.

“Drink,” Simon ordered.

He had waited ten reigns for this.

Patriate stared at the goblet, then at his deathly silent audience, and then at ‘Balzam Magnos’. “Will it hurt?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“Of course,” Simon replied softly, “But less so than the other five alternative ideas I have in store for your daughter if you don’t drink it.”

It said something about Balzam Magnos that Patriate Malphas didn’t doubt him for a second. He reluctantly grabbed the goblet and stared into the wine, scowling. No doubt he thought about Elaine and prayed that the Oracle had somehow foreseen all of this with the same confidence Shabram showed the Overlord. Perhaps he tried to reassure himself that he had been sacrificed in the name of the greater good, that his mistress’ plans required this, that this would all be made right in the end.

The desperate consoled themselves however they could.

“I want you to know…” Patriate clenched his jaw and glared at the council. “I want you to know this… when your master dies and your rotten empire collapses, and they will… you will have earne–”

The former Merchant coughed blood and fell from his chair, his goblet spilling wine across the floor.

Simon watched on as Patriate began to asphyxiate on the ground, the same way the elven Merchant had watched him die in a previous reign after poisoning him to death. Both Euphemia and Mastemo exchanged a brief glance, whereas Dassein and Odette both looked deeply disturbed, but the rest didn’t so much as lift a finger.

May bygones be bygones, Patriate, Simon thought when Pätriate breathed his last. Consider my grudge settled.

“Oh yes, the goblet was cursed,” Simon added almost absentmindedly. “A pity. He would have loved the wine.”