The Hundred Reigns 213: The World of Ruins (7)

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Belzemine was the point of divergence.

That was the best explanation Simon could come up with after spending a whole day studying the recordings. He had never witnessed this great elven migration in longer reigns where she had either perished or followed him to the Kish Sanctuary; though it might have happened during that reign where Vouivre ended up killing him in Valne. He had spent over a year sealed away by elves back then, so they could have easily captured Belzemine after the battle.

Simon could infer how events unfolded: no altered will meant that House Magnos likely started fighting over Balzam’s corpse within minutes, and while Belzemine had been in the room, she wouldn’t fight for either side. She likely survived long enough for Malphas to lure her back to Illusea somehow; perhaps by abducting her by force or removing Gargauth’s old brands. The White Unicorn then exploited the civil war to retake territory and evacuate their agents off-world.

All I have done is for the happiness of Brimir’s people… It’s what she said. What the Oracle said. Merely remembering that confrontation infuriated Simon. Either she has a very loose definition of happiness, or she doesn’t consider non-elves people. 

“Your Majesty has replayed that particular date twenty-six times so far, beyond the point of finding any additional useful details,” Agrat said behind him. Simon had grown almost used to her presence and to the sound of her pen scribbling her observations in her book. “Do you derive pleasure from watching it?”

“No.” Simon stared at the manatrees taking off one last time before moving the date forward. Agrat had a point, he had gotten all the details he could from that fateful night’s recording. “All that these images inspire is anger at these elves’ cowardice.” 

“Do you feel anger on your own behalf, or for the world?”

“Both.” Simon sneered in disgust beneath his helmet. “They left so many innocent people to die.” 

There was no way they could have evacuated all of Brimir’s population with the manatrees. Endymion’s citizens had likely been abandoned, forced to watch as their enemies left them behind on a decaying world at the mercy of monsters and demons. Countless souls must have cursed the Mana Goddess and the Oracle for this treachery. 

Simon would make their grudges his own. He would restore order and purpose to Brimir, and then remind the elves on their lunar paradise that his mighty hand could reach their throats anywhere; and if he perished before he could complete said revenge, then he would crush the Oracle’s hopes in the next reign, as he had done so often.

He would never surrender Belzemine to them again. 

“Fascinating.” Agrat immediately committed his answer to paper. “So an Overlord can feel a moral obligation to their subjects and strangers alike. Does it come from a sense of duty or ownership?” 

“Shouldn’t you study this bunker’s runes rather than ask pointless questions?” Simon replied with annoyance. Her question rattled him for some reason. 

He moved the recording dates through the Zodiac Parade in order to better understand its progression. The manatrees had started their migration on the first day of Abraxas’ appearance and remained visible in the sky for many weeks until the vault’s sensors lost sight of them. 

Their departure had a noticeable effect on plant life around the bunker, which started to slowly waste away a few days after their takeoff. By the time Abraxas had left the Archer’s constellation and moved into the Goatfish’s, most trees had lost their leaves and all plots of grass were receding.

The Goatfish’s tenure in the sky took Simon by surprise by how uneventful it turned out to be. He knew for a fact Nodens intended to torment the surface with his Apocalypse Song, yet either the sensors failed to record the mindbending cacophony or the Sanctuary never got anywhere close to it. 

That, or Junon had somehow followed after her sisters in the great migration. It would have been very easy for Alcyone to share knowledge of the Sanctuary with other dryads and ensure they somehow reconnected. The Forbidden Keep would have been thrown back to Brimir rather than carried away to the moons, since Nodens was explicitly on the side of the Dominators in the present day. 

No, that can’t be it. I couldn’t summon Carbuncle or Culebre in their normal states, which suggests no one remembers them in the present. Simon didn’t like the implication. Was the Sanctuary destroyed when Nodens escaped? Or did Junon refuse to evacuate with the rest of the elves?

The Water-Carrier’s time in Abraxas’ light was the moment when things truly took a turn for the worse. Tremors grew noticeably stronger, and monsters began to roam the decaying countryside. Simon guessed the seals keeping their kind safely imprisoned had fallen by this point, including those in the Lighthouse. 

Simon wondered if Mastemo was even alive at this point in time. Had he perished in the civil war, or did he live long enough to see the crystal stuck in his head manifest as a deadly archfiend? Whatever the case, there were no armed forces to save the survivors from the chaos engulfing Brimir. 

And then the dragons showed up. 

They first began to appear a week after Abraxas entered the Two-Tailed Fish’s constellation, coming from the east by the dozens and warring with the fiends who had claimed Magvolia as their own. Simon immediately recognized them as the twisted dragonkin he had helped Vouivre create not too many reigns ago. 

Their presence implied three things: one, the Two-Tailed Fish had broken through the Kish Capital’s seal; second, Vouivre was still active at that point in time; and three, she somehow managed to enslave the archfiend at full power. 

I guess this timeline favored her. Vouivre had been well-poised to obtain the Beast Crestone, and Simon had defeated Nodens with relatively inexperienced troops, so it was entirely possible she could do the same with an empowered Tiamut. A fragmented Endymion likely allowed her to level-up quicker as well. That, or she used that Horoscopic Sword she struck me with once. Did she find it in Gargauth’s hoard?   

Simon had no way to confirm his suspicions, so he continued to skip the dates forward into the era of the Ram, which proved to be more of the same. Magvolia had become a desolate, lifeless, barren expanse by then with no sign of improvement. 

Nothing much changed until the 24th of Floreal, on the day Abraxas entered the Minotaur’s constellation; for the roar of Asterion was mighty indeed. 

A cataclysmic earthquake heralded the great archdemon’s release, shaking the bunker and leveling mountains in the distance. The sheer wave of miasma that blanketed the region in the wake of Asterion’s escape briefly disrupted the bunker’s sensors. Interferences shook the visuals, the outline of advancing gnarled roots and dark trees growing ever closer to the vault. 

The Stone Muse was free, and her brood would inherit the earth. 

The Darkwood engulfed the region within days, burying the bunker under a thick canopy of twisted plants and a haze of miasma. Visual quality noticeably declined at this point, with blinding rays of purple light blazing across the obscured sky towards Abraxas. They struck the comet in violent flashes that illuminated the night. 

Beams? Simon’s Dark Visionary sight immediately identified those rays of corrupted light as the same kind of sorcery that fueled his Darkflare. His eyes searched for the source and picked up the outline of a black mountain lumbering across the horizon. 

No. Not a mountain. 

Mountains didn’t have horns that reached the clouds. 

The entity Asterion had become under the comet’s glow was too far away for Simon to see much of, but the mere outline of his colossal frame rattled him to his core. A fully empowered Nodens looked like a mere child when compared to his stronger sibling; a mere hill imitating the apex of the world. Awe-inspiring beams of pure power surged from the top of the walking disaster and towards the comet that gave it life. 

Asterion was aiming at Abraxas. 

Why? Was he trying to knock it off course so it would crash earlier? Or was he attempting to destroy the Overlord Class by blowing up its crestone? The constant bombardment caused the recording to keep fizzling in and out of existence. 

“Master.” A telepathic call broke Simon’s focus. The watcher sentry. “Arrows are raining from the sky outside by the thousands. The animals are all running away, and I see the light of spells in the distance.”

This immediately alarmed Simon. “How far away?”

“Close,” the watcher replied before correcting itself, “Closer.”

Had the Archer tracked them down? Or was he engaged in battle with the local dark elves? Whatever the case, Simon wouldn’t be caught unprepared. “There is a battle outside,” he warned Agrat as he grabbed the recording cube, stored it in his Inventory, and then began to cast spells on himself. “Buff yourself.”

Simon’s suspicions were swiftly proven correct when a nearby explosion shook the vault while he finished casting Shadowshield on himself. Another followed soon after, with the watcher’s panicked telepathic communication filling his master’s mind. “Your Majesty, the enemy is focusing its fire on the hill!”

“It appears we are under attack,” Agrat noted the obvious.

“The Archer knows about the vault.” Simon’s fists clenched in annoyance while dust fell upon him from the ceiling. The bunker was strong, but surviving the end of the world and four hundred years of disuse had weakened it significantly. “How?”

“Smell, mayhaps?” Agrat met his gaze. “I would assume Your Majesty’s divination immunity does not negate our scent.”

Simon grunted in annoyance. She was right. The Archer might have relied on more mundane methods to track them down rather than use magic, or had mistaken the vault for a dark elf base. 

Either way, Simon had no intention of being buried alive. They had to get out. 

“I will leave first in disguise,” Simon decided. “If he isn’t after us specifically, then we’ll slip away; if he does target me, then we will follow our battle-script.”

Simon first proceeded with something he had been avoiding so far so as to not to draw attention, which was to claim the vault as his Dungeon; he had destroyed the previous one in the Borderlands after it lost its usefulness, and this would let him use some of his most powerful abilities should the Archer indeed decide to face him. 

His power immediately raised the corpses infesting the bunker as undead, and Simon summoned a handful of winged imps with his Ring of Demonbinding to assist him. Agrat cast an illusion spell to turn the latter into ravens, allowing Simon to blend in among them with his Bird Title.

“We will regroup at the poisonous lake to the north if Algozoa does not give chase,” Simon informed Agrat. “If not, you know what to do.”

The demoness smiled at him. “As you wish.”

Simon kept a blank expression—as much as a raven could—and then sent a telepathic message to his watcher. “Change of plans. You’ll leave unseen and do something for me…”

He had a sneaking suspicion that required swift confirmation. 

For now, Simon decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He joined the flock of disguised imps as they flew out of the shaking tunnel while undead spread out on foot into the bog. Simon hoped that he could slip away among them unnoticed. 

No sooner did they escape into the light of day that an exploding arrow of flesh fell upon the hill and blasted its top. 

The blast threw dust into Simon’s eyes and shook the tunnel he was escaping from alongside the entire area. A cacophony of fearful croaks, cries, and animal corpses welcomed him outside. The whole bog was littered with bodies turned into pincushions by countless arrows. 

The next attack came from the woods in the southeast, rising from the treeline at high speed and taking to the sky. Simon’s heightened perception caught sight of an arrow-shaped mass of flesh with two vicious green eyes at the front and a trail of fire erupting from its tail. It flew straight at Simon’s decoys with murderous intent. 

Spread out! Simon telepathically ordered his troops, all of them flying and rushing in various directions. He successfully fled to the north past the canopy as Algozoa’s projectile fell upon his undead thralls and exploded with the power of an airship’s bombardment, blasting bones and dust across the bog. 

However, a second projectile arose from miles away and immediately began to chase Simon himself across the sky at high speed. Simon sensed a hostile will staring at him through the living arrow’s eyes; a malevolent predator who chased him not out of hunger, but cruel malice. The weight of its attention fell upon his wings and wouldn’t leave no matter how hard he flapped them. 

Algozoa, the Last Predator, designated you as his hunt’s prey! Attacks against you will hit with greater accuracy and inflict critical hits! Algozoa is always aware of your location until the hunt concludes!

Algozoa the Archer was hunting him specifically. 

Simon cursed in his heart and veered down towards the trees below in the hope of slipping through the branches. The living arrow instead adjusted its trajectory and continued to chase him, dodging all obstacles and gaining ground through its superior speed. 

With little other choice, Simon cast Chaos Wave while in his bird form and blasted a gnarly tree into the projectile’s path. The resulting contact and the explosion that followed set the foliage ablaze. 

Simon attempted to fly up higher to give himself more space to maneuver, but a rain of arrows fell from the sky; literally. The dark clouds above his head began to unleash a downpour of magical arrows rather than raindrops, forcing Simon to take cover beneath the branches again or be hit by one. They shredded branches apart without respite, and it didn’t take long for another flesh projectile to fall upon Simon in their wake. He managed to detonate it above the canopy with a well-placed Hellfire Gaze, but a second exploding arrow fell less than twenty feet away and blasted him. 

Critical hit! Medium fire damage!

He’s trying to pin me down in one place and snipe me from afar. Simon changed back to his Overlord form and shrouded himself in Nightveil to prevent his enemy from guessing his typing. The Archer was a clever hunter indeed. He must think the vegetation will provide ample cover. 

Simon had anticipated this and prepared an appropriate countermeasure.

“Let the flames of my vengeance ravage this land until my foe is slain!” He chanted from under a tree, calling upon his greatest power. “Hell’s fury shall burn this earth until the wicked Algozoa perishes a gruesome death, and his hunt cometh to an end!” 

His Edict of Wounded Earth spread out from the vault in a roaring inferno.

The power erupted from the vault like a volcano, causing the hill beneath which it was buried to collapse into a magma pit spewing fire and death across the landscape. A dry wind fell upon the Darkwood, blowing away its haze of pollen and miasma. Simon heard the trees screech in agony as they all caught fire until the forest became a field of candles for over seventy miles. The very ground snapped open and the flames of the earth billowed out in great plumes of smoke. 

Hell had come to the Darkwood, and its fires had set it all ablaze. 

The arrow rain stopped, as did the flesh missile bombardment. Simon guessed Algozoa was now finding the current battlefield a little less easy for him to thrive in. He could already feel the flow of life Deathmastery provided from all the beasts and plants he had slain with this single Edict. 

Let's see how well you hide now. Agrat had a role to play in this partition, but Simon would rather avoid relying on a demoness’ goodwill to win. Switching his Ring of Demonbinding for newly crafted Skinboots of Moonlight Mirage, capable of Hastening their wielder, he then drained his minions back at Frightwall to refuel his miasma reserves and used Darkflight to ascend above the rising smoke. It was almost impossible to see anything through the thick clouds born of the flames of his fury. Smouldering embers and burning trees ensured ashes carried by the dry wind would fall upon the region for days.  

It didn’t matter if Simon couldn’t see. Algozoa knew where to find him. 

The attack came from the northwest in the form of another arrow of flesh rising from the flames at full speed. Its movements twisted the smoke in its path, which served Simon just fine. He could now see its trajectory, and most importantly, the rough position of its source. 

Algozoa had exposed his location. 

Simon quickly cast a Hellwind to clear the smoke around himself and deviate the flesh arrow's trajectory, sending it flying off course to crash into the flames below, and then counterattacked with Ectoplasmer by aiming at the source of the attack. 

A long-distance duel ensued as Simon and Algozoa traded projectiles from afar. The latter had the advantage of having distance on his side—since he was too far for spells like Darkflare to reach—but the former worked hard to close the gap by flying to the source of the flesh projectiles. 

How good it felt to have minions to drain to fuel his magic. Simon had to pace himself against Borsh, but he could now rain destruction from the heavens at will. He fired Ectoplasmer after Ectoplasmer at any projectile threatening to come anywhere near him. 

“Your Majesty,” the watcher called him through telepathy from miles away. “It is confirmed.”

Simon pondered that information and its implications, before drawing the likeliest conclusion. He soon sensed an attempt at summoning him through Overlord Call. As per the plan, he switched his boots for a Ring of Eternal Darkness, then answered the summon. 

Simon teleported away into a circle of flames amidst the burning inferno, and immediately cast a spell. “Darkflare!”

Shadows engulfed the world and consumed everything in the vicinity: himself, his summoner, and the enemy she had sneaked up upon. Simon’s Ring of Eternal Darkness and the copy he had entrusted to Agrat shielded them both, while he heard a roar of pain a few feet nearby. 

When the darkness dissipated, Simon found himself standing into a crater, facing a dark form blasted back onto burning trees. 

“You’ve done well, Agrat,” Simon congratulated his ally. Their battle tactic had worked perfectly.

“The honor goes to Your Majesty for serving as bait and saturating the air with smoke,” Agrat replied as she materialized next to him, her invisibility spell dispelled by his Darkflare. “It would have been difficult to approach our target otherwise.”

Yes, it must have been quite hard to pick up on a scent in the middle of an inferno. 

Their enemy rose back to face them. It looked very different from the shadow Simon glimpsed when it had been empowered by Abraxas, but it was still a forty-foot-tall colossus. The creature was a nightmarish mishmash of various beasts gathered into an unholy shape, including sharklike gills and tail, chameleon scales providing ample protection and colors shifting along with the environment, hands ending in sharp claws, and hind talons similar to those of a cocatrice. Two bony wings bound by a tendon–string grew out of the spine like a living crossbolt. 

The creature’s head was the most disturbing part of this chimera, because of how disturbingly human it was. Topping an unnaturally long neck, the monster’s visage was that of a hairless skull wrapped in pale skin, with two black pits for eyes and a maw full of bloody fangs assembled into a vile smirk. The Archer’s emerald crystal glowed in the middle of its forehead, surrounded by a crown of vestigial antlers.

“Now, Algozoa…” Simon’s eyes burned with hellfire. “We shall see who is the hunter, and who is the prey.”

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