The Hundred Reigns 148: Vouivre Delenda Est (14)

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They burned Beleth to the ground and declared their victory over the ashes. 

Tens, if not hundreds of thousands once called the city their home. While many had left to join the army during the Dragonsea crossing, many remained behind. Those who hadn’t perished in the flames would be collared and immediately transformed into more dragons to fuel Vouivre’s war machine. Such was the scale of the destruction that it inspired the mermaid queen Melusine to compose a ballad about it: The Tears of Beleth.  

Telluria had fallen under her and Simon’s control, and he gained yet another shameful level for this ‘honor.’

Level 63 Overlord Perk: Devil Forgemaster V (Passive): You have learned how to craft animated Artificial constructs such as golems, though they require miasma as part of their construction.

It felt as if the Overlord Class was tempting him, soothing his wounds, and reminding him just how easy it would be for him to level-up if he just went around killing, conquering, and despoiling everything in his path. 

It was wasting its time. Simon would never be able to enjoy this. The power couldn’t help shake the bitter taste that Anna’s and his retainers’ deaths had left in his mouth. He could sense their blood on his skin, sullying him. 

This isn’t like you. 

The words haunted Simon as he looked at Anna’s body. Duchar had used necromancy spells to restore her corpse to pristine condition, and Cassandra put a white dress on her. She looked almost lovely in her current state, lying asleep inside a coffin filled with flowers.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of flowers she liked, if any,” Cassandra admitted to Simon. “Are white roses alright?”

“They’re… acceptable,” Simon replied. Anna didn’t have all that much interest in gardening, but he knew she would prefer to look lively in death rather than mournful. “Thank you.”

With the keep destroyed and most of Beleth turned into a glorified giant slave pen, the Academy had become Simon’s temporary headquarters. The infirmary had become a resting place for his late friends and retainers, among others. Casualties had been kept to a minimum thanks to the mass use of paralysis and petrification spells to immobilize the students, but accidents still happened. Antonine de Shax had come to pay her respects to one of her classmates who had the misfortune of being slain by a stray eye beam. 

“I won’t lie, I won’t mourn her after she tried to steal my fiancé, but dying by fire is a cruel way to go,” Antonine said while observing Anna’s body. “She didn’t deserve it.”

No, she didn’t, Simon thought grimly as he looked at the Berserker Crestone in his hand. I traded her life for this. 

He sensed a hand resting on his shoulder like some octopus’ disgusting tentacle. 

“I know we haven’t seen eye to eye before, Overlord Simon,” Antonine said, smiling. “But if you need someone to comfort you over your loss… I’ll be here for you.”

Simon gripped the Berserker Crestone, and he sensed it throb and pulsate in response to his own quiet fury. Her fiancé wasn’t even dead, and yet this gold digger was already making a not-so-subtle move on a new prospect, right in front of Anna’s corpse. Even Cassandra scowled in distaste at her shamelessness. Simon probably would have fried her on the spot if they didn’t require House Shax for the rest of their campaign. 

Is there even a point to this? Simon suddenly wondered. There were still things he needed to learn about Vouivre, like what the Chest of Worlds contained or what else the Beast Class could do, but the information gained seemed so… so minor compared to the cost the continent was paying in pain and destruction. When did this all become acceptable to me?

His year in Magvolia had disgusted him to his core, as did his experience with the Cobweb, even though it had been worth it in the end, but this reign… this reign was a step further. Was it because he had killed more of his allies and friends than in any other loop, or outright started a war with his homeland on behalf of its enemies? Or the fact that the Beleth massacre was planned compared to Whispermire’s accidental destruction? How much more blood would he shed…

No, no, Simon couldn’t let himself be consumed by guilt and incomprehension; not when he remained surrounded by vipers, monsters, and dragons. He couldn’t show any weakness. 

“There is no loss to comfort,” Simon replied coldly to Antonine before he walked away. “Make a list of our hostages. Telluria was but the first region to fall, and our foes better fall in line if they want to see their children again.” 

As Simon left the infirmary to visit his most important prisoner, he finally decided to activate the Berserker Crestone. Its outfit covered him from head to toe, and though it itched all over Simon’s body, its wolfish pelt and black boiled scale armpieces didn’t feel as uncomfortable as the Merchant Class did. Either Simon had grown strong enough as the Overlord that he could shoulder the Noble Class’ disdain, or he was more aligned with its warmongering nature. 

Simon did have a lot of pent-up rage, after all.  

The Berserker: Holy fury personified, the mad warrior who embraces his bloodthirst and passions, draws strength from them, and eventually masters them. 

Strength S, Agility B, Vitality S, Perception C, Magic C, Intelligence E, Charisma A, Luck C.

Primal Regression (Active): You can enter a state of primal rage at the cost of your sanity. When undergoing Primal Regression, you are affected by the Berserk effect, have your physical stats greatly increased, and negate magical effects on contact, such as spells. Primal Regression ends as soon as your Berserk state does, and cannot trigger if it is negated.

Juggernaut (Passive): You are immune to any ailment or effect that would prevent you from moving or attacking, such as Stun, Paralysis, or Petrify. 

Unstoppable Force (Passive): Your attacks with natural or melee weapons ignore Physical Resistance and damage reduction, though not immunity. 

Magic Eraser (Active): Melee weapon technique. You strike a foe with a weapon, stripping them of all magical effects affecting them such as buffs, debuffs, or spells. The more effects you remove, the greater the damage multiplier. 

Level 1 Berserker Perk: Slaughterer I (Passive): You gain advanced proficiency with all melee weapons and unarmed attacks (x2 damage, +10% crit), but your damage output is sharply reduced should you wear a shield or armor—your Class outfit does not count. 

The information flashing in front of Simon’s eyes was interesting, but not as much as the follow-up notification. 

Do you want to transfer your Gladiator experience points to the Berserker Class? You will lose access to all current Gladiator Perks if you do. 

It seemed that the Berserker had detected his old Gladiator levels, even though he hadn’t technically gained them this reign. Simon hesitated about how to proceed, then decided to agree on a transfer. He didn’t have much to lose by trying, and it would settle many questions on his mind. 

He thought ‘yes’ and sensed a slight shift in his System screen. Simon half-expected an error message like the time he tried to continue leveling-up in a Vassal Class he had progressed long ago in one of his earliest reigns, and was pleasantly surprised when it didn’t happen.

Experience transfer approved. You have lost access to your Gladiator perks, though you may still level-up in this Class if you obtain the required Crestone. 

Level 2 Berserker Perk: Warp Spasm I (Passive): When under the Berserk ailment, you gain a 20% reduction to all forms of non-magical damage. 

Odd, Simon thought. He had three levels in Gladiator, yet only gained one Berserker one. This suggested that either Noble Crestones had a higher level threshold than Vassal ones, or that there was a slight loss in the exp transfer. Moreover, a look at his base stats showed that they hadn’t changed. It must be because I already had three levels in the general ‘Berserker’ series of archetypes. I likely won’t gain new stat increases until I reach level four.

All in all, transferring Vassal Class levels was mostly a matter of gaining better Perks; though the real surprise was that the Worldsoul didn’t detect the oddity of transferring Vassal levels from a Class Simon hadn’t unlocked in this reign. He wondered if it was an error in the System too subtle for it to pick up on, or another mechanism at play. 

This opened the door to a few possibilities. Simon once feared leveling up in a Noble Class, only to have the reign be cut short and then losing access to the Crestone before he could devour a Perk. Now he could level-up multiple Vassal Classes, transfer all the experience to the corresponding Noble one in one go, and then immediately consume a Perk he had unlocked. 

Simon switched outfits for his Overlord armor as he entered the Academy’s basement. His troops had turned it into something of a dungeon to contain more dangerous prisoners, with Thalas being given extra care. The fallen Berserker had been entirely bound inside a steel coffin akin to an iron maiden that only left his head exposed to ensure he couldn’t move, with Belzemine and Lorimor watching over him. 

“How is he holding up?” Simon asked his followers.

“His vitals are stable, and my debuffing spells keep him at minimum strength,” Belzemine explained. “We can transport him safely.”

“Unfortunately, Prince Thalas has proven… difficult when it comes to questioning,” Lorimor complained. The Scholar carried a small and mostly empty notebook in his hands. “He adamantly refuses to tell us anything about imperial defenses. Perhaps a little fright would ease his tongue.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Simon replied. As much as he had conflicting feelings when it came to Thalas, torturing him was a bridge too far. Especially after… after everything. “He likely doesn’t know much of anything anyway. His life alone will be valuable enough.”

Thalas glared at Simon, his gaze lingering on his stolen Crestone the longest. Simon thought it would feel good to see his former bully at his utter mercy. He had fantasized about it many times in their youth and humiliated him back when he impersonated his father… yet this whole situation filled him with a nagging sense of wrongness rather than pleasure. Anna’s death and Thalas’ attempt at making up for his mistakes had robbed Simon of any satisfaction. 

“It’ll be worth it,” Simon said, both to Thalas and himself. “I want you to know that, brother. In the end, it’ll all be worth it.”

Thalas didn’t answer him. He simply glared at Simon without a word.

Why am I even telling him this? Simon wondered. He watched Beleth’s destruction, Anna’s death, and Antonine’s betrayal. His half-brother had no reason to believe him… this time. I can do better in the next reign. Wash it away and–

“Did your Class corrupt you?” Thalas asked suddenly. “Or did it just reveal what was always there?”

Simon clenched his teeth and nearly zapped his coffin with Hellthunder to teach him a lesson, but he held back at the last second. He instead looked at his hand crackling with lightning. When did he get so prideful that such comments warranted such a brutal response? 

This isn’t like you. 

“Think what you want,” Simon replied as he left the room more rattled than before he walked inside it. His first thought was to walk outside to the courtyard, take a breath of fresh air—mostly ashes really—and clear his mind, but he instead found a certain dragoness waiting for him there. 

“Will you not devour the Berserker Crestone?” Vouivre asked him, her arms crossed. She looked at the flames rising in the sky with what could pass for satisfaction. “Are its Perks not to your liking?”

Simon scowled. How much did she know about the Overlord Class? “I’m not sure,” Simon admitted. “The Perks are good, but they… clash with my build, I suppose.”

The almighty Primal Regression was unfortunately useless to him since Indomitable Crown would negate the Berserk status, Unyielding Essence was already better than Juggernaut, and neither Slaughterer nor Warp Spasm would yield any real benefit. Magic Eraser was very good, but he was already working on a miasmic version of Dispel that would do the same thing.

Unstoppable Force was the one that appealed to him the most. Ignoring Physical Resistance and damage reduction would help him tremendously against powerful foes like the Zodiac Fiends, and he suspected that was how Thalas had managed to nearly kill Casval-Nodens in Cocagne. Unfortunately, it required a weapon to use its full potential, and as much as Simon loved to bash in skulls… he wondered if he couldn’t just craft a morningstar that did the same thing.

All in all, the Berserker Perks didn’t appeal to him like the Merchant and Mage ones did, nor the Rogue’s ability to bypass teleportation wards. 

“Is that so? Or are you brave enough to crave my Beast Crestone instead? I’m sure you wouldn’t have let me recover it if you didn’t plan to steal it from me later.” Vouivre crossed her arms. “Between us, I am sure your father consumed the Berserker once, alongside the Warrior Crestone.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “How would you know that?” 

“I caught him hunting monsters for experience in Telluria once, when he led his forces to conquer it. He wielded a greatsword too big for a troll to wield with casual ease.” Vouivre sounded vaguely impressed, a rarity coming from her. “I saw him strike a behemoth so hard that he not only split the beast in two, but the very hill beneath them. Locals still call it the Fork to this day.”

It wouldn’t surprise Simon if his father focused on offensive, martial Perks over utility or magical ones. Balzam Magnos had been the most terrifying fighter and warlord of his age. “You didn’t try to fight him?”

“That would have been foolish. I wasn’t ready to reveal myself yet.” Vouivre scowled. “I could tell he had sensed my presence, though I had been careful to hide it, and I knew I would die if he found me. There is no shame in avoiding unwinnable battles.”

Simon guessed that was why Vouivre always managed to survive so late into the civil war and Zodiac Parade; while the likes of Louis relished battle, Vouivre was a cold-blooded pragmatist to her core. She would do whatever it took to win. 

“You strike me as the sorcerous kind of Overlord, Simon,” Vouivre mused. “You would be better off consuming the Mage, the Necromancer, or the Summoner Crestones… maybe even the Crafter’s. My father was obsessed with that one.”

“Gargauth doesn’t strike me as a builder of any kind,” Simon admitted. The Chest of Worlds excluded. 

“You would be wrong. My father was unmatched when it came to creating technological wonders… especially weapons and tools that could extract more treasures from the earth.” Of course that would be the only two things on a dragon’s mind. “He was older than the Doom and remembered secrets lost to your civilization. He believed the Crafter Crestone would let him create anything he could imagine.”

“That may be true,” Simon admitted, scoffing. “Perhaps we should go to Muse after we deal with my family.”

“Of course we will conquer Muse eventually.” The outcome sounded already set in stone when Vouivre said it. “Every other nation save Lore and Illusea will be a mere formality after we bring Endymion to heel.”

Where will it stop? Simon wondered. Vouivre had made her goal clear. She intended to take over the world, and then assault the other planes. Even if they somehow managed to defeat Louis, Maublanc, and Euphemia, they would keep pushing on to other nations. It will only end when I die or when we look at the horizon and see nothing else to conquer. 

That was the bitter future he had sacrificed Anna for. 

“Why did you spare your sibling?” Vouivre asked. “Casval informed me you and he fought before. That he insulted you, and that you threatened him with death. Why keep him alive?”

“We need him as a hostage against Euphemia,” Simon replied, using the same reasoning he pushed to try and spare Anna. “She cares for her child, as does his sister. They will not envision any strategy that might cause him harm.”

“It is a pragmatic answer, but it is not the full truth, is it?”

Simon bit his lips. Had she come to know him so well in such little time? The truth was that Anna’s death had destroyed all of Simon’s appetite for revenge and bloodshed. A part of him didn’t think Thalas deserved death this reign, especially after he tried to help Simon in his own foolish way. 

The anger was gone, leaving only grief. 

“A fleeting moment of pity, I guess,” Simon admitted. 

He half-expected Vouivre to chide and mock him for it, but she simply nodded in understanding. “I think that is what I felt too when I had my brother within my grasp.”

Simon frowned in slight surprise. “What?”

“I had defeated and slain all our siblings who tried to steal my birthright. Casval had the sense not to defy me, but he still knew too much and he might try to steal my inheritance down the line, so I set out to kill him too. I had him in my claws in minutes, and he began to beg for his life and ask for mercy in a way unbefitting of a dragon. I resolved to eat him for it.” 

“But you didn’t,” Simon pointed out, his eyes widening slightly. “Did you feel pity for him too?”

“His pleas inspired… something I cannot explain,” Vouivre admitted. “An unease and doubt I did not appreciate one bit. It felt… wrong to deny him mercy after he begged for it. This was the first time in my life that I ever changed my mind.” She chuckled to herself. “I decided to give him a chance to live and serve me, which proved to be the right call, since it allowed us to meet.”

Of course she would turn that brief moment of emotion into an exercise in vainglory. Could a dragon even feel pity? Simon didn’t think so. They were animals who might experience vague facsimiles of human feelings, maybe even intellectually desire them without ever grasping their depth. 

“I have heard the Paimon girl perished by accident during the battle,” Vouivre said, her dismissive tone sending chills down Simon’s spine. “How will this affect our strategy?”

“Maublanc will soon learn of it,” Simon replied grimly, “He’s the Commander and Anna is… was his world. I’m sure he’ll learn of her demise somehow, and then we will have earned ourselves his undying enmity.”

“Your father defeated mine with the Commander Crestone, so he is not to be underestimated,” Vouivre concurred. “Nonetheless, tactics and strategy were invented to cover a gap in strength. There is a level of power so overwhelming no amount of intelligence can compensate. We should press our advantage and continue our march south.”

“Striking Valendre next would make the most sense,” Simon conceded. “The Lighthouse is vulnerable to an aerial attack and almost entirely dependent on its port to interact with the rest of the empire. With Melusine blockading the sea and the dragonkin cutting off land and air routes, we can force the fortress to surrender after a short siege.”

“A siege won’t be necessary at all. I told you I have assets that will guarantee our victory. Now that I have the Beast’s power, I can finally secure one of them.” Vouivre met his gaze. “However, I will require your miasma crystal to power it.”

Simon hid his surprise well, fearing she might have found out about the scales he entrusted Casval with. “The one I can manifest to create a Dungeon?”

“Odd that you have to ask for clarification when that should be obvious.” Vouivre smirked, her fangs showing. “Is that your trump card to defeat me? Another Zodiac Fiend stashed away?”

Simon knew better than to respond with embarrassment, so he instead scoffed dismissively. “What makes you think I only have one?”

Vouivre assessed him in a crocodilian way, then leaned forward. She was the same size as him in her human form, even when he wore the Overlord armor, so he could feel her breath through his helmet. It smelled of death and sulfur. 

“This is odd,” she muttered. “The more you challenge me and deny my magnificence, the more I want to own you. Not destroy. Own.” Vouivre’s head tilted slightly with what could pass for curiosity. “Is this what humans call ‘love’?”

Simon fought back a wave of disgust. “No, it’s just greed.”

“A shame. If this ‘love’ is stronger than fear, then surely it has valuable power.” Vouivre pulled back, smiling. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll be mine one day. Everything will be mine in the end.”

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