Chapter 90: The Church of the Stars (2)

Meeting with Belzemine and Eole had almost become a routine.

In Belzemine’s case, Simon first revealed his identity as Overlord to her in private and then replaced her brands with his own, alongside orders to play along with Malphas and wait in Frightwall until she received one of Simon’s telepathic orders. The fact the brands simply became invisible rather than disappear would ensure they remained in contact and that he could talk her out of a mental breakdown.

The goal of the operation was otherwise simple: ensure the Oracle’s attempt to destroy Frightwall failed while ensuring the capture or elimination of all conspirators before they could become a problem. Shabram was already taking measures to cripple the infiltrators and ensure they wouldn’t cause him trouble this reign.

The real surprise came from Eole.

“May I come with you?” she asked him, once he had said his piece.

“To the Lighthouse?” That was unexpected. He had told her his usual pitch of being a prophet, freeing her and convincing her to avoid Telluria, but her behavior had shifted slightly when he told her the Church of the Light’s High Confessor had invited him to join his Templars. “Why?”

“To meet this High Confessor,” Eole replied with firm determination. “If I am free, I have the right to speak my mind to him.”

“And he will have the right to smite you down where you stand.” The High Confessor lacked the Overlord’s power, but crossing him would be most unwise. “Why would you even want to talk with him? The Church of the Light may often criticize excessive mistreatment of slaves, but there’s no greater opponent of shifter rights in the empire.”

“Which is exactly why I want to speak with their leader, if I can,” Eole insisted. “I will inform him of our plights if he is unaware of it, or reason with him if he knows of them.”

“He is more likely to just ignore you,” Simon argued.

“Then I will curse him for his cruelty and accept that my words were wasted,” Eole replied. “I cannot know what will happen until I try.”

Simon pondered what to do. Eole seemed dead-set on this, and he could simply word it as a request to Mastemo. If he considered it beneath him to speak with a shifter, then Simon would have an excuse to deny Eole and send her back home without a fuss; and if Mastemo was willing to listen, then he might prove more open-minded than expected…

Either way, Simon could ensure that Eole ‘disappeared’ should Mastemo take offense to her words. He wouldn’t mind keeping her in his retinue a little longer, especially since he didn’t plan on confronting either the White Unicorn or the Cobweb if he could avoid it.

“Alright,” Simon agreed. “I will introduce you as my slave, so you will have some legal protection, but you are better off going back to your people’s sanctuary for your own safety once the meeting is concluded. Be polite as well. This will be a once in a lifetime opportunity if he does agree to an audience.”

“I understand.” Eole bowed slightly. “I do not wish to bring trouble to you, Lord Simon. I merely hope that this High Confessor has a heart.”

That remains to be seen, Simon thought as he heard a knock on his bedroom door. Lauriane walked in with a deep frown on her face.

She hardly spared a glance at Eole, who–having never seen Lauriane before–didn’t recognize her anyway. “Can we talk in private, Simon?”

That’s new, Simon thought before addressing Eole in Elvish. “Can you leave us for a moment?”

Eole nodded and left the room, with Lauriane’s gaze trailing behind her. She hurriedly locked the door behind the kish and then cast a few anti-divination spells to secure the area. Simon could immediately guess the reason behind her paranoia.

“You were right,” Lauriane said, her body tenser than an arrow string. “Louis confessed to the crime when I questioned him about the Mana Sword. He said he had found evidence that our father had murdered our mother Eleanor to marry Euphemia all those years ago.”

And stuffed her corpse into a wall on top of that, Simon thought grimly, though he kept that for himself. Lauriane had enough on her plate as it was. “I’m… sorry.”

“I’m not sure what to believe. I can’t fathom that Father could do something like that, or that Louis…” She shook her head, torn between disbelief and what she knew to be true. “Either way, I’ll have to investigate this further. Are you sure you saw the Overlord Class pass onto someone else?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Simon replied, a frown on his face. “Why ask me that? You heard the will.”

“That’s the thing.” Lauriane crossed her arms. “Louis told me that killing Father didn’t give him any levels.”

That took Simon by surprise. “He didn’t level-up from killing the sitting Overlord?”

Lauriane nodded sharply. “That’s why he kept his mouth shut, besides the fact that he didn’t inherit the Overlord Class. He was convinced Father was playing a trick on us all.”

Simon guessed that being a high-level Warrior meant that even killing the sitting Overlord wouldn’t have been enough, but the more he thought about it, the more far-fetched that possibility sounded. Balzam Magnos had at least been stronger than his son, so his murder should have bumped him up a level or two.

“Louis suspects that Father may still be alive somehow and is playing with us, though I can’t see why he would inflame tensions like this.” Lauriane stroked her chin. “Then again, the Overlord Class is unique. I once heard Euphemia say that Father already showcased high-level powers the moment he slew Gargauth.”

“It could have something to do with the Mana Sword,” Simon suggested. It could prevent the user from gaining experience as part of its purpose to disrupt the Overlord inheritance cycle.

“It could be. Either way, it’s a giant mess.” She looked at him with concern. “Do you intend to go with Mastemo?”

“I think so,” Simon confirmed. “I need to understand my gifts.”

“I advise against it. I fear Mastemo will try to use you against us. At least the Academy is something of a neutral zone. Once you join the Church, they will never let you go.” Lauriane squinted at him. “Why the sudden change of plans? You wanted nothing to do with the Church or imperial politics before our father’s death.”

Simon hesitated, fearing revealing too much might cause a knockdown effect, but not alleviating his sister’s fears might result in the same outcome. “I’ve… had more dreams. Concerning ones.”

That worried her. “What kind of dreams?”

“Disasters,” Simon admitted. “I saw a dark star in the sky bringing ruin to us all, while our nation tears itself apart. They’re as vivid as the nightmare I had about Louis murdering Father.”

“I see…” Lauriane’s jaw tightened. “You think the Lighthouse will provide answers.”

“I hope so,” Simon confirmed. “I’m sorry, Lauriane, but I have to go there. I need to know.”

His choice didn’t please her, but she relented. “This is a teleportation gem linked to one of my safehouses,” she said upon offering him a small crystal. “If you ever feel that your life is in danger, shatter it and you’ll return to my care. Do not trust anything Mastemo tells you.”

“Is he that dangerous?” Simon asked, not being very familiar with the High Confessor beyond his support of Euphemia.

“He is a zealot with an agenda; of course he is dangerous,” Lauriane countered. “He used to lead the Church of the Light in revolt against Gargauth with the express purpose of overthrowing the previous Overlord.”

“I know that,” Simon replied. He had studied his history. “But he wasn’t so zealous he couldn’t hash out an agreement with our father.”

“Because having the Overlord in his pocket helped him spread the Church of the Light’s influence across the continent, but make no mistake, Mastemo would turn this country into a theocracy in a heartbeat if he had the chance.” Lauriane scowled. “I know for a fact he has been hoarding relics and artifacts from destroyed faiths whenever Father wasn’t paying attention, and the Light alone knows what he does in his Lighthouse. Even my spies couldn’t infiltrate that institution. You don’t run such a tight ship when you have nothing to hide.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Doubly so since Simon could feel something was subtly wrong with the man, although he couldn’t explain why. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

To Simon’s immense surprise, Mastemo actually agreed to hear out Eole on their way to the Lighthouse. He also sounded rather pleased to hear that he would bring his newfound retainers, Leonard and Meredith, with him to Valendre. He was apparently familiar with the latter.

Simon left a miasma crystal in Shabram’s mansion like in the previous reign before leaving, and asked her to keep an eye on Gourmand. The jester’s behavior hadn’t changed in the slightest for now, but it didn’t hurt to check if the time anomaly had somehow affected him in the long term.

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Either way, Mastemo invited them to board his airship, the Radiance, to travel to the Valendre region. Besides being paved with the pearly marble and gold the Church of the Light loved, the architects went as far as to replace the portholes with enchanted, stained glass windows to turn the ship into a flying temple. The salon also held more books than seats, including church texts, litanies, and other biographies. It seemed Mastemo was quite the voracious scholar.

“Welcome aboard, Your Highness,” Mastemo said upon greeting them, two white-clad Templars escorting him. The High Confessor had ordered food and tea for his visitors, though he hadn’t removed his mask to partake in it either. “I am very pleased to see you again, Meredith.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Excellency,” Meredith replied with a deep bow, which Leonard imitated. “Praise the Light for letting our paths cross once again.”

“You two know each other?” Simon asked curiously.

“Meredith once served Knight-Commander Beatrice as a squire,” Mastemo explained. “Unfortunately for the Church, she decided against pronouncing her Templar vows when she was granted a baron title for her extraordinary services in Telluria.”

“I meant no offense to you or the Church, Your Excellency,” Meredith apologized. “I simply sought to provide my brothers and family with a better future.”

“And I wish you success on that front.” Mastemo turned his mask towards Eole and studied her for a moment. “What an elegant creature. So it is true what they say, to gaze upon the kish is to receive a glimpse of paradise.”

“Greetings, Lord Mastemo,” Eole said in Elvish, her hands joined, her back straight, her expression cold. “Thank you for agreeing to listen to me.”

“I can sense your loathing from here, child,” Mastemo replied in impeccable Elvish. “You despise what I represent, do you not?”

Eole didn’t deny it. “I came to the land of Telluria to meet with my fellow shifters, only to find them in chains,” she said with an accusatory tone. “Your Church of the Light says it stands for peace and harmony, yet what glory can be found in enslaving others?”