Chapter 88: ???

Louis had planned this.

Simon’s amazement at his older brother’s cunning was only matched by the pure, agonizing pain rippling through his body and soul. A flame hotter than a volcano’s heart burned within him, searing its way to the very essence of the Overlord Class.

Warmonger IV negated by Mana Sword!

Unyielding Essence IV negated by Mana Sword!

Alchemist’s Poison activated! Poison Ailment transferred by Lovestruck to Euphemia!

Alchemist’s Poison activated! Poison Ailment!

Anti-Heal Ailment! Necrophobia Ailment! Doom Ailment!

Darkbound negated by Mana Sword–

Countless notifications flooded his eyes and mind by the hundreds while his body went into a state of shock. All of his Class’ incredible protections faltered like night recoiling from the rising sunlight. Poison flowed through his veins and rotted them from within, but the damage to his flesh paled compared to the spiritual agony of the Light burning its way through his miasma.

The Mana Sword had done more than strike at Simon Magnos.

It had landed a blow on the Overlord itself.

It had struck at his very Class.

“I didn’t want to admit it… even though I knew the truth deep down…” Lauriane’s voice broke down in a mix of cold rage and despair, tears raining down her cheeks even as she drove the sword further into his chest. “We’re just tools to you! Pawns to be used and discard–”

“Teraburn!”

Belzemine’s spell struck Lauriane in a blast of intense, white-blue fire that propelled her across the room. Lauriane’s Class outfit changed to that of the Alchemist’s, which protected her from the flames, but she still hit the opposite wall.

“Your Majesty!” Belzemine rushed to his side, immediately assessed the wound in his chest, and then tried to pull out the sword to remove its Anti-Heal effect.

She meant well, but it only made it worse.

The Mana Sword’s blade glowed bright the moment she touched the grip. Whereas the sacred power within it once burned like magma, it now became more radiant than the heart of the sun itself. Light poured out of Simon’s armor and consumed him from within. He tried to scream, but only golden beams poured out of his mouth. The walls shook all around them with snake-like hisses coming out from Frightwall’s ancient stones.

And as Simon’s existence unraveled, so did time itself.

Simon’s vision blurred. Belzemine seemed to split in two as she looked over him, two versions of herself overlapping; one a living elf with tears of despair raining down her cheeks, the other a screaming, rotting corpse. Euphemia and the rest of the council broke the nearby doors and rushed in.

“What’s going on here?! The whole castle is shaki–” The Empress’ eyes widened upon seeing Simon impaled on the Mana Sword, her skin gaining a deathly pallor. The other councilors froze in place, with the likes of Shabram covering their mouth in horror or Dassein rushing to his sister’s side. “By the Light…”

They were all wrong, all of them, dividing between two overlapping figures; one half alive and well, the other a shambling corpse. The flood of notifications fizzled out into one as a shadow loomed over Simon.

The future is shrouded in darkness.

The Keeper of the Throne had appeared.

Unlike everyone and everything else, it alone did not blur nor divide. Its single crystal-eye glowed with the dark halo of the comet Abraxas while darkness pulsed from beneath its robes. Its hand reached for Belzemine’s throat and grabbed it with inhuman strength until it lifted her above the ground. She tried to kick the entity back and pulverize it with a spell, but her magic fizzled out as cold hands began to choke the life out of her.

No… Simon wanted to say, but when he raised his hand towards Belzemine, all he could see were fingers of miasma overlapping with dragon claws and a metal glove. What the…

Then he felt a cold dousing the flames inside him, as the Dark fought back with a vengeance. A cataclysmic flood of miasma poured out of his chest, throwing the living backward and rapidly rusting the Mana Sword. Its light faltered as the shadows coiled around it like a snake smothering its prey.

The two overlapping visions of the people present widened, and then split apart with a thousand screams.

There was darkness, and then Simon woke up.

Not in his bed, not in front of the Crimson Throne, but on a cold hard floor in a dark place devoid of light. His wounds had healed, and his lungs breathed miasma for air that gave him life anew.

This is the ??? of your ??? Reigns.

You have earned the Title of Simon the Error.

The Error: Something has gone wrong, and time has no meaning.

What?

Where… where was he? Had he died?

Simon forced himself to his feet, his gloved hands fumbling in the dark. He cast Hellfire to create a sphere of flames in his hand, which was enough to light the darkness and reveal the ruins of the High Council chamber. Lauriane’s broken chair was still there, as was the table and the Mana Sword’s rusted hilt, but neither Belzemine nor anyone else was present.

“Shabram?” he called out, first with a hoarse voice exhaling miasma and then with thoughts. “Duchar?”

No mind touched his own. He didn’t even feel Duchar’s presence, although the old necromancer bore the Brand of Sloth at the beginning of each reign.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

“Duchar, can you hear me? Can you hear your Overlord?”

Silence.

What the Abyss was going on?! The man should be safe and sound in Telluria right now. Had he… had he been killed? Or did the Mana Sword dispel all his brands?

“Keeper, I summon you!”

No one came.

Simon grew anxious. Was he still within Frightwall? Or had the Mana Sword disrupted his Perks somehow? Simon carefully moved to the chamber’s stained glass windows and peered through them to find himself staring into a darkness blacker than a thousand starless nights. He couldn’t see anything outside. No Marthrone streetlights, no moon, no nothing.

Only darkness.

This is disturbing. Simon focused on opening his stat screen and saw it appear in front of him. It looked utterly normal except for the new nonsensical title. My magic works, and the Overlord armor too… Do my Perks still function?

“Deathmastery IV.”

His Phantom Steed materialized next to him without issue. The undead horse dutifully stared at him while waiting for orders.

That confused Simon. If his Perks still functioned, why couldn’t he contact Duchar through the Brand of Sloth or summon the Keeper?

Then again… then again, Abyssal Retainer only granted him command over the Keeper of the Throne. It didn’t allow Simon to summon it. It only appeared because it was compelled to obey within Frightwall.

Or something’s going on with the Overlord Class, Simon thought. He had been wearing the outfit since he woke up. Maybe taking it off and putting it back on would cause something to happen, so he tried it out.

You cannot put on your human outfit here.

The wording sent chills down Simon’s spine.

Something had gone terribly wrong. He turned to the Mana Sword’s hilt, the rest of the blade having rusted away, and then had his mount touch it. When the sacred metal failed to react to his phantom steed, Simon dared to pick it up. He felt no pain, no magic, no nothing.

Whatever sacred energies once dwelled in the hilt had long been exhausted.

“How much time has passed?” Simon muttered to himself. The hilt looked so old it might just crumble to dust between his fingers. He decided to stock it in his Inventory for later, when he suddenly noticed an icon remained.

The Commander Crestone.

Wait… could he…

Simon focused and summoned the Commander Noble Crestone within his palm.

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Its divine glow illuminated the thick darkness for an instant before its surface began to steam. Its mana fumed out in seconds like a piece of ice melting in the sun, until nothing remained.

This place’s miasma was denser than the Darkwood, so much that it dissolved the Noble Crestone faster than a piece of sugar thrown into a puddle of water, but that was a minor detail compared to everything else.

The really important thing was that the Crestone was still both in his Inventory and accessible, which meant Simon hadn’t died. It would have dropped from his corpse or the icon would have faded away otherwise.

“This is getting stranger and stranger,” Simon muttered, turning to his phantom steed. “Follow me.”

He didn’t really need a mount, but he appreciated the company.

They walked out into the next corridor, with Simon lighting up the torches with Hellfire as they went. The corrupted flames lingered in the ambient miasma, but their glow struggled to repel the gloomy shadows which had overtaken Frightwall. The darkness appeared unwilling to give too much ground even to light born of miasma.

It didn’t take long for Simon to realize this place was utterly devoid of life. His siblings, the maids, the staff… even Father’s public collection of petrified victims were gone without a trace. His calls were drowned out into meaningless echoes. He even resorted to trying to summon imps, but the little critters failed to appear.

The good thing about exploring an empty castle with little to occupy his mind was that Simon had plenty of time to ponder what led to this situation… and how Lauriane could have gotten her hands on the Mana Sword.

He could see two possibilities. The first was that Lauriane was the one who recovered the Mana Sword at the chapel, either delivering it to Louis or killing Father herself. Simon doubted it, since she had looked unsurprised to see her ‘father’ at the meeting and her actions in previous reigns. Either she was the best actress Simon had ever seen, to the point of deceiving her own brother, or she didn’t have a direct hand in the Overlord’s demise.

The other and more likely possibility was that it had all been part of Louis’ plan.

Knowing he would be under surveillance after failing to kill his father, he must have given the real Mana Sword to Lauriane in the hope she would follow through with the assassination. It was a good plan on paper. She was one of the few Magnos children Balzam had somewhat trusted, but even she had her limits. Louis must have figured that learning the truth about their mother’s death would give her the push required.

Maybe Louis had genuinely been angry over Eleanor Magnos’ death, the same way Simon resented Balzam for his mother’s murder, or he may simply have told Lauriane what he thought she needed to hear to reach a breaking point. Whatever the case, his gambit had paid off. Her doubts and fear over Simon’s disappearance had boiled over until she tried to slay him.

She poisoned the Mana Sword, Simon recalled. She must have expected the Mana Sword to suppress Unyielding Essence and thus make the Overlord vulnerable… which means the attack was premeditated.