“That’s what the texts say,” Simon lied. “Even then, the scriptures strongly warn against opening the door.”
“I see, I see.” Casval turned to the scalefolk warriors keeping watch over the tunnel. “Leave us, please.”
The creatures obeyed without a word, leaving Casval alone in the tunnel with Simon and Eole. Simon tensed up, his hand stealthily reaching for Lauriane’s escape crystal in his pocket. He hoped it could teleport Eole with him once activated, and while it would ruin his cover, it would at least save her life…
“You see, Simon, my sister never told me what she intended to use that crystal for, only that she alone could wield its power,” Casval said while studying his ally’s expression with unblinking eyes. “Are you implying that my sister lied to me?”
I have to choose my words very, very carefully here. “I’m just translating what the stele says. That’s all.”
Casval didn’t say a word for a moment, then nodded to himself. “You are my friend, Simon. I think we are friends. Friends trust each other, right?”
The way he phrased it only confirmed to Simon that the dragon only had a vague intellectual understanding of the concept, yet he pretended to go along. “Yes, Casval, we’re friends.”
“But my sister is not your friend, only your master.” Casval’s head tilted to the side. “Friendship conquers all, or so I have heard.”
Is he suggesting what I think he is? “What are you implying, Casval?”
“I’m simply saying that I would prefer to have a friend rather than a master.” Casval met his gaze and blinked a few times with both eyes, as if trying to get a point across. “Is it the same for you?”
He’s suggesting we turn the power inside against his sister. Simon guessed that made sense. Vouivre had eaten Casval for the crime of ‘failing’ her in the previous reign, so their relationship had to be abysmal to begin with. Casval only obeyed her because he had no choice. That’s good to know.
“Yes, it is,” Simon replied, when in truth he was pretty certain the miasma crystal would likely attack them all the moment they broke the seal. However, Eole should remain safe so long as Casval believed he could use her for his own ambitions. “But we should check first.”
“Agreed.” Casval smiled at Eole, who struggled to hide her nervousness in his presence. “Will you break the seal?”
Eole turned to Simon. Her unease was palpable. “We will all regret this.”
“I know,” Simon replied in the kish tongue, “But with some luck, it will hurt them more than us.”
Eole bit her lip, then nodded slightly. She knew the die was already cast. The songstress took a deep breath, and then sang a slow, gentle melody that echoed across the icy tunnel. The sapphires on the stele glowed one after another in response until the constellation design glowed like the stars it was based on. It didn’t take long for it to sink into the ice and reveal a new path. The miasma that poured out of the newly opened passageway came in dark waves more potent than anything Simon had ever seen, even more so than his own Dungeon’s heart.
The threshold had opened to reveal a domed chamber roughly a hundred meters wide, all paved with smooth ice of the purest white. It held no decorations, no statues, no walled paintings; only a single floating sapphire crystal bearing the symbol of the Twin-Tailed Fish constellation, shining with the light of its boundless malice. It throbbed and pulsed like a living organ exhaling miasma. Even its shape reminded Simon of a frozen human heart.
It was a miasma crystal, and many times bigger than the one Simon summoned. He could feel its power from here, its will. Duchar mentioned that miasma crystals potentially possessed an intelligence of their own, and Simon was now convinced the necromancer had been right.
This thing was an archdemon's heart buried in a frozen tomb, and just as dangerous an artifact as it sounded.
“Eole, stay back–” Simon said in kish, only for the songstress to take a step forward into the room. “What are you doing? Did you forget the warning?”
“It feels…” Eole’s brow furrowed in confusion. “It feels familiar to me.”
Familiar? Simon warily walked after her with Casval in tow. The air grew more chill with each step forward, with the frost seeping into their very bones. Only Eole appeared strangely unaffected.
Simon expected a mental attack from the crystal, or monsters to come out of nowhere to defend the Dungeon’s heart from danger… yet the room remained eerily quiet and defenseless. The trio soon gathered around the floating relic.
“Is this it?” Casval’s head tilted to the side. “I expected something more… impressive.”
“Indeed,” Simon replied with unease. Something was wrong. Had the seals neutered the crystal somehow?
And then he heard it, half a song and half a heartbeat.
“I sense you, child.”
A voice, vaguely feminine, echoed inside Simon’s skull. He had enough experience with telepathy to recognize it as mental communication in the ancient kish tongue.
“What is it?” Casval asked upon noticing Simon’s surprise.
“I hear a voice in my head.” It didn’t take Simon long to figure out its likely source. “I think it’s the crystal.”
“An echo of my power you may summon with this stone, but only by merging thy flesh and soul with my spirit shall my true strength be revealed,” the presence said. “Join with me as one, and your desire together we shall fulfill. Our songs we shall wield to free your people from men and wyrms.”
Your people? Did she mean the people of Endymio–
Simon froze in realization that the crystal wasn’t talking to him. He was only overhearing a mental conversation, likely through the Overlord’s Perks.
Simon’s head immediately turned in Eole’s direction. The kish remained silent, the crystal’s glow reflecting in her thoughtful gaze.
“Do you agree to my terms?”
“Eole, don’t!” Simon shouted, far too late. “It’s a trap–”
“Yes,” Eole replied softly, with no hesitation nor regret. “Grant me my wish.”
The crystal shrieked and shattered.
A mighty gust of miasma threw Simon and Casval across the room until their backs hit the ice—a blow that would have likely caused Simon to lose consciousness without his Class’ stat gains. Waves of frost filled the dome, and darkness most foul coalesced around Eole, entering her through her mouth, ears, nose, and eyes. Simon caught a glimpse of a fish-shaped shadow flowing into his ally until she drank it all.
Eole’s slave marking burned on her pristine chest and then vanished, only to be swiftly replaced with a constellation-shaped array of sapphires. Her skin turned pale blue, and her hair into a darker shade of it. Her wings’ feathers shapeshifted into scales and then twisted until they resembled two redfish tails. Her clothes morphed into a black version of the Songstress class outfit, and when she opened her eyes again, her pupils had turned to ice.
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Eole had invited a fiend into her soul, and it had predictably taken over.
Casval immediately let out a roar, wings and tail growing out of his back. The possessed Eole waved a hand at him before he could complete his transformation. Potent magic erupted from her fingers in a flow of white mist that quickly encased Casval in a cocoon of ice. He was soon frozen in time, figuratively and literally.
Eole looked at her hand as if surprised by her own strength, then began to touch her cheeks. Her fingers traveled down her neckline, then fondled her own breasts and stomach. Her eyes closed while she inhaled, her mouth exhaling pure white mist.
The sight disturbed Simon to his core. Those movements were those of a wayward spirit rediscovering how to wear flesh and skin.
“Eole…” Simon said as he rose to his feet, his hand reaching for his morning star. “Eole, you need to fight it.”
“Fight what, Simon?” The voice belonged to Eole, yet her words sounded deeper, older than those of the young songstress. “I’m still here.”
Simon seriously doubted that. “Eole, that thing is controlling you–”
“No one controls me!” Eole snapped back, her face twisted in anger. “I am free again! I am me, and I am her! My mind blurs at the edge, enlightened by the wisdom of ages and the power of the Abyss! Now I can finally free Telluria from its oppressors!”
“By what, taking it over yourself?!”
Instead of answering—which was already a colossal red flag in itself—the thing Eole had become swiftly materialized an ice trident in her hand. “You need not fear, Simon. You have defended me from the wyrm, and for that bravery, you may keep your life.”
Simon already knew her ‘mercy’ carried a caveat, even before she turned her weapon at him.
“But for the sin of my enslavement, service shall be your atonement,” Eole declared, her voice brimming with magic. “A fitting form I bestow upon you. If you would stand in the company of dragons, then a dragon you shall become!”
The trident glowed and then struck Simon with a beam akin to an ephemeral aurora. He immediately heard a faint song echo in his head, demanding that he surrender his will to his new queen of ice and winter. Sorcery took hold of his body in an attempt to change it into something else and inhuman, something with wings, scales, and a heart full of devotion.
It failed.
The magic bounced off him like water on a rock, his Overlord armor automatically materializing over his skin in response to the attack.
Polymorphy attempt negated by Unyielding Essence.
Charm attempt negated by Indomitable Crown.
“Mardok?” Eole’s surprise at his transformation quickly gave way to pure, absolute fury. “Mardok! The vile stench of your scales I sense lurking beneath that human face! You dare show yourself to me again, traitor?!”
So the fiend was familiar with the first Overlord? Did all archdemons belong to the same club or something?
“You mistake me for someone else, fool. Perhaps you will see more clearly once I have beaten you out of your vessel’s skull.” Simon gripped his morning star. “Dark Saber.”
He charged with all his strength.
Eole immediately waved her free hand at Simon in an attempt to freeze him like she did with Casval, but he quickly summoned his fiendish Shadow Chain first. The barbed chain coiled around her arm and pulled it down before she could cast her spell. Simon’s AGI boost from his old reign’s title, combined with the gains he had earned with his level-ups, let him close the gap between them in an instant. His morning star clashed with her trident, darkness and ice bursting from the impact.
The demonic possession had enhanced Eole’s strength, yet the Overlord Class proved mightier still in close combat. A second blow of his morning star nearly sent the trident flying backwards when she tried to parry, and she had to raise her fishtail-wings as an improvised shield to protect herself from the third. Her scales felt harder than heavy mail, yet the mere impact threw Eole backward across the room until she hit the icy wall anyway.
Simon immediately rushed to catch up. Mighty spellcaster or no, Eole remained a singer. His best bet was to keep her in melee range, where he could dominate her and disrupt her magic.
Eole quickly recovered from the blow and began to sing. Her voice echoed across the frozen hall, with time slowing down to a crawl… or so it felt to Simon. Reality itself seemed to blur at the edge. His body grew heavier, his movements less precise.
Slow ailment! Your agility is cut in half!
Simon grunted and quickly summoned another Shadow Chain from his gauntleted hand. It moved across the room and coiled around Eole’s throat, choking her and silencing her song. Simon winced at the sight of the barbs drawing pale white blood from her skin, yet that worry turned to concern when they swiftly turned to ice at her body fluid’s mere contact. He pulled with his immense strength to drag closer to him, his morning star raised with his other hand to deliver another blow.
Eole grabbed the chain with her fingers in response. Ice flowed out of her skin in a wave that traveled along the links until it reached Simon’s gauntleted hand. By the time he realized the danger and tried to release the chain, it was already too late.
The ice reached his fingers and froze them solid.
Simon thought nothing in this world could surpass the pain of fire. He was wrong. Frostbite hurt way, way more. His blood turned to ice in his veins, his flesh snapping when his hand instinctively clenched. By the time Simon let go of the chain with a roar, half his fingers fell off from his palm in piles of ice.
Simon grit his teeth and looked at his hand. His warm blood poured out of frozen flesh, melting the ice away in caustic fumes. He had forgotten it had turned poisonous.
“Had enough?” the possessed Eole taunted him with a ferocious, inhuman grin.
“Not quite!” Simon snapped back as he waved his wounded hand at her and threw droplets of his poisonous blood at her face. Her skin blistered at the contact, her scream echoing across the room.
Not immune to poison, eh? Simon would have figured an archdemon would shrug off something like that. He guessed the demon mustn’t have recovered its full strength or grown used to having a body again yet. The fusion is too recent. I can still beat her.
Simon quickly exploited Eole’s surprise to close the gap between them and grab her face with his bleeding hand. Her screams turned into a wail of pure agony when he sprayed her eyes and mouth with his caustic blood.
Simon instantly regretted it and prayed to the Light that he could bring Eole to a medic before the wounds turned lethal. He threw Eole to the ground and kept her pressed against the ground in spite of her attempt to stab him with her trident. He avoided a thrust, threw his morningstar away, then used his newly freed hand to grab her weapon and wrench it from her grip. His S-rank strength came in handy here.
“Release her!” Simon ordered the demon as he continued to press his bleeding hand against Eole’s face. “Release her, or I’ll kill you both–”
Huh?
Was the room getting warmer all of a sudden?
Simon immediately looked at Casval’s cocoon of ice, which unfortunately had already mostly melted away. Great wings flapped the steam away, and a draconic head peeked out in fury.
“You… you lied to me.” Casval’s voice brimmed with both quiet anger and disappointment, wrathful flames dancing between his fangs. “I thought we were friends.”
The treacherous wyrm had the gall to sound betrayed.
Simon attempted to summon his Shadow Chain to force the dragon’s mouth shut, yet Casval proved quicker on the draw. A torrent of fire erupted from his gullet in a deluge of flames. Simon instinctively pushed the possessed Eole behind him to protect her, right as the inferno reached them.
Then came that old friend saying hello once again.
Pain.
Simon would have loved to say that death by dragonfire had lost its edge by now, yet that would have been a lie. It remained a terrible way to go out.
Simon recalled lasting a bit longer than the last time Casval burned him alive, and nearly reaching out to the dragon in a last attempt to strike him. In the end, though, he still perished by the flames. He sorely needed a magical item or a spell that would protect him from it.
Simon should have used Lauriane’s escape crystal earlier and transported the possessed Eole away. The empire’s mages could have then extracted the demon from her soul. He had miscalculated on that one.
The Crimson Throne did not greet him with mockery or condemnation. Its spirit sounded almost pleased to see Simon again. Perhaps it was because he had taken steps to exploit a time-loop for victory, or because he had gathered important information, or because it delighted in treachery. Whatever the case, it welcomed Simon with a new title.
This is the seventh of your hundred reigns.
You have earned the title of Simon the Treacherous.
The Treacherous: You have unsuccessfully betrayed every side you allied with. You suffer no penalties when violating the terms of magical contracts or agreements.
Was an immunity to fire too much to ask for? Simon guessed he would have to earn one for himself.
He wasn’t sure what to make of this debacle. On one hand, he had learned so much. He knew Vouivre’s plans, confirmed that she hadn’t assassinated his father, and discovered what danger hid within the kish palace. This precious information would let him neuter the threat of Gargauth’s heirs during his next reign.
On the other hand, Eole’s decision to join with a demon cut deeply. Had the crystal influenced her mind the moment they broke the seal? Or did she hate the empire and Vouivre so much she would sell her soul to the Abyss if it meant taking them down? In the end, Simon was only certain of one thing.
‘But for the sin of my enslavement, service shall be your atonement.’
He would never earn Eole’s friendship so long as he held her in bondage. The bond of master and slave would always taint their relationship. Her mark’s dispelling had also proved the lesson that Firewand’s betrayal taught Simon: that one could not rely on magical slavery for loyalty. He could never hope to earn her trust in mere weeks so long as that barrier remained.
He knew what he had to do.
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