Simon spent the next few days awaiting Eole’s return, all the while testing out both his new Perk and practicing his spellcraft.

Renal proved true to his word and supplied Simon with three Crestones to replace the ones he had to hand over to him, each a Vassal of the Rogue: a Spy, Thief, and Ninja Classes. The last one failed to work for Simon, but he could activate the other two well enough, which suggested losing access to one Vassal of a given Noble Class didn’t exclude him from all the others.

Simon didn’t have much use for the Crestones after copying their schematics, so he lent them out to some of his mooks for now to increase their overall usefulness. His takeover of the Rosanne criminal underworld was complete, and money from the arms trade flowed into his coffers without issue. Bribes and his ‘alliance’ with Mel ensured neither the city watch nor the White Unicorn interfered with his affairs.

His upgraded Devil Forgemaster Perk also yielded interesting results. The System apparently classified ‘consumables’ as any object that either had a limited amount of charges before going inert, like Hellfire Wands capable of casting the eponymous spell three times before breaking, or items meant to be used once like bombs.

It also covered cooking, oddly enough. His efforts to bake a cake resulted in the pastry growing teeth and biting Borky when he tried to take a slice, but Simon didn’t let that hold him down.

Simon wasn’t entirely sure how to make the best use of this new branch of crafting yet. Creating an alchemical bomb demanded as much work from him as creating a magical ring he could use all the time rather than just once. His best lead so far was to create a variant of the teleportation gem capable of casting Overlord Call so even non-spellcasting minions could summon him in a pinch, but the risk of the Cobweb obtaining one and turning it against him was too great to explore the idea this reign.

Either way, Simon had another and more pressing issue to deal with: a weakness he had noticed during his fight with the Monk’s disciples.

Buffs and ailments were great force multipliers, capable of entirely shutting down opponents or enhancing his strength… yet Simon mostly knew spells inflicting individual ailments or buffs. He could poison a foe, blind them, or petrify them, but not inflict all of those at once. That caused him a problem, since some could have wildly different ailment resistances and immunities. Checking those through trial and error wasted valuable time in battle.

Buffs also had a limited duration, so casting them one after the other meant the earlier spells might run out by the time he finished applying the last ones. Prayer buffs in particular had limited utility since Simon couldn’t cast them in his Overlord armor.

All in all, his current spell research focused on creating spells similar to Belzemine’s Aegis: something that could apply multiple effects to a target in a single casting. This should pair well with his new Mageling Title too.

“Ruin,” Simon cast on his test subject, an imp bound and gagged to a chair in his office. His eyes went white and moldy spots formed on his skin. Simon moved closer to study them.

Poison, blind… disease too… but no petrify or instadeath countdown, Simon thought as he grabbed a potion off his shelf, ungagged the imp, and force-fed him a healing potion. Those two particular ailments are too complex for a Tier V spell. I think I could incorporate the silence ailment into it too, maybe madness or terror as well if I tweak it to target a single individual rather than a group…

“How are you feeling?” Simon asked his test subject.

“Unimpressed and disappointed!” the imp replied gruffly. “Where’s the adult stuff?! My claymore has shrunk into a dagger, and my butt is waiting for a sword in the stone!”

I’ll definitely add silence to the mix. Simon had finished healing the imp when he heard a knock on the door. He already knew it would be Eole and Belzemine, having received a telepathic warning from the latter.

“Come in,” he said, his two companions walking in. Belzemine looked as dead inside as ever, while Eole was so forlorn she hardly seemed to react to the demon in the room whistling at her.

“Now that’s a chicken I would love to ruffle the feathers off!” the imp said. “You think she’ll lay eggs if knocked up?”

“How was your trip?” Simon asked his companion while ignoring the imp. Thank the Light Eole couldn’t understand it. “Was Lord Voltobauta of good company?”

“I have no incident to report, besides the fact we were followed,” Belzemine replied. “Lady Eole was strong enough to carry me and Lord Voltobauta turned to mist, so we lost our pursuers in the mountains by flying up to the peak.”

“You can climb my peak anytime!” the imp said with a lurid wink. “It’s the tallest in all the Abyss!”

As expected, the Cobweb had tried to keep an eye on Eole and Belzemine. Simon hoped they had indeed managed to lose their pursuers rather than them following them undetected. Eole’s expression worried him though.

“Eole?” Simon inquired. “What bothers you?”

His friend finally met his gaze. She bit her lip as she struggled with something weighing on her mind, then turned and pointed at the back of her shoulder. Simon’s eyes widened as he immediately guessed what she had in mind.

“Are you sure?” he asked in the kish tongue. “I can’t take it off once applied.”

“I have no choice,” Eole replied gloomily.

Simon could read between the lines. She wasn’t comfortable discussing something outloud, even when using the kish tongue. Only telepathy would do. It had to be truly important to warrant accepting a permanent slave mark.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized to her as he applied the Brand of Sloth to Eole. She let out a startled cry when he touched her shoulder, the mark appearing like a spoiled blister on her pristine white skin. Her fingers immediately reached out for it with a scowl forming on her face. That chain will not go away easily.

“I feel it on my soul,” Eole complained, her next words carried through thoughts rather than her voice, “You are in my mind.”

“Yes, I am,” Simon replied through telepathy. “I can make it invisible, if you want.”

“It will defeat the point of our infiltration, won't it?” she replied with a sad look. “It won’t truly remove it either.”

“No, it won’t,” Simon conceded. He had warned her. “What happened? It must be severe for you to finally accept the Brand of Sloth.”

“I sang to the wind, and my people answered.” Eole rubbed her arms and looked away. “The Adventurer’s airship crashed onto our Sanctuary.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “Did she survive?”

“Yes, as has her crew,” Eole replied, though Simon oddly sensed little relief from her voice. “The manaliths that help our Sanctuary float apparently interfere with magic, including the airship’s machinery. They form a barrier that warps perception and prevents divination or teleportation from working there.”

Which neatly explained why most people don’t notice the flying islands, Simon thought. They likely appeared as dark clouds to onlookers due to the magic barrier unless brought closer to earth. “So that’s why the Adventurer and her crew couldn’t come back or call for help… Fast Travel can’t pierce through the effect.”

“Yes. She’s currently exploring the Forbidden Keep to find material to repair her vessel.”

“The Forbidden Keep?”

“An ancient fortress sealed on our Sanctuary’s highest island, where the sky touches the darkness of the stars. It is full of monsters, and our elders forbid us to visit its cursed grounds, but it contains old magical items from before the Doom.” Eole scowled. “I think… I think this may be where this archfiend you spoke of rests.”

Simon scowled. “That… may not go well for her.”

“I don’t think so either,” Eole admitted. “She told my elders to tell Voltobauta she was fine, and that he would need to ‘ready his ships for the big party,’ whatever that meant. Voltobauta took it as confirmation we were telling the truth and said he would wait for her return… for now.”

“But you’re still not happy.” Simon crossed his arms and met her gaze. “Because it proves airships can reach your Sanctuary and land there.”

Eole nodded grimly. “I didn’t tell him, but my own elders are unsure if they should even let the Adventurer’s crew leave. They fear that these strangers might spread the tale of our existence… but Voltobauta is right, this is only delaying the inevitable. Now that our Sanctuary has been breached once, more visitors will eventually follow.”

Simon had the memories of floating islands bringing dragon armies to earth to prove it. The Adventurer’s presence on the Sanctuary clearly hadn’t been enough to stop Vouivre and the War Party from conquering the kish there. There was only so much a single Noble Class user could do when facing an army of Class users led by the Warrior, the Rider, and two dragons.

“I could help shore up your Sanctuary’s defenses,” Simon suggested. “I could create and direct monsters that could down any airship approaching it.”

Eole pondered his proposal when his office’s door opened again. The newcomer didn’t knock and walked in as if she owned the place.

“Simon,” Velvet greeted him before spotting the tied up imp in the room. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Simon replied flatly. “I was nearly done with it.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Look at that rack,” the imp commented upon seeing Velvet’s chest. “You could burn a witch on it!”

“Anyway.” Simon sat on his desk right next to his test subject. “Do you have a new mission for me?”

“I do. Fleshmonger is calling in his favor. You are to help him with a slave run.” Velvet glanced at Eole. “He wants you to bring your kish girl too.”

Simon’s blood ran cold. He already knew the reason behind the demand, but he still played the fool. “Why?”

“You don’t know?” Velvet smiled thinly at Eole. “Kish can enslave beastmen with their voice. We won’t have to use force to round them up with her help.”

Eole didn’t hide her discomfort, and while she didn’t fully understand Valnean, she had picked up enough to guess her intent.

“She wants to use me against my kin, doesn’t she?” she asked Simon through telepathy.

“Yes,” Simon replied quickly, while saying out loud, “No. Vouivre is hunting down the kish, and will pick a fight with us over my concubine.”

“Fleshmonger promised the raid would happen far from her territory,” Velvet replied.

Simon was about to refuse again when Eole bit her lip and then spoke out loud in kish. “I will come.”

Simon’s head snapped in her direction. “What?”

“I will come to Telluria and meet with this Fleshmonger,” Eole said sternly, before adding through telepathy. “I need to talk to him.”

“If you come, you know what he will force you–”

“I know.” Eole took a deep breath. “I know… But it’s the only way to earn their trust.”

Simon frowned, but accepted her wish. “Fine, I will bring her,” he told Velvet. “When do we depart?”

“Soon.” Velvet’s gaze moved from Eole to Simon, who didn’t fail to spot a glint of wickedness in her eyes. “There’s another thing, but I want to discuss it in private.”

Simon frowned, then dismissed Belzemine and Eole. Velvet waited until those two had left, then glanced at the still tied up imp in the room.

“I said in private,” she reminded Simon.

“Yes, yes.” Simon turned to his prisoner and then moved to press a switch hidden under his desk. “I’ll call you back later.”

“Next time bring your best stuf–” A trapdoor opened beneath the imp’s chair before he could finish, sending him plummeting into a dark pit.

“You have a trapdoor in your office too?” Velvet asked as she looked into the void. “Where does it lead?”

Simon innocently smiled at her. “You want to see?”

“I’ll pass,” she replied wisely. “Now that we confirmed your intel on the Scales, our Prince would like to learn the location of another of the Zodiac crystals.”

She’s much more forthcoming and talkative than her sister, Simon thought. Maybe I can use that to my advantage.

“Is it the Rogue’s way to ask for a favor without giving anything in return?” Simon replied. “Here’s my counteroffer: I’ll tell you if you teach me how that ‘Attic’ of yours works.”

She laughed in his face. “You’re far too greedy, Simon.”

“Says the group asking for a priceless magical artifact’s location.” Simon had anticipated she would say no, but that should make his next request more palatable. He had another plan in the works to infiltrate the Attic regardless. “In that case, I want a map of its doorways and a right of passage for my own operations.”

“I’ll have to say no to that too. Besides, I can’t fulfill that pledge even if I wanted to. Only one person has the full map, and they won’t share it with anyone, even me.” Velvet put a hand on her waist. “We could create specific routes for your personal use between two or three cities though.”

“That would be nice, but hardly enough for a Zodiac crystal’s location,” Simon replied as he switched angles. “How about you tell me more about where you come from, on top of giving me those pathways?”

“My sister told me you’ve been asking her similar questions.” Velvet’s smile turned into a grin of amusement. “Why such curiosity? Don’t tell me you fancy us? Kish and elven slaves aren’t enough for you?”

The mere thought thoroughly disgusted Simon, especially after what happened with Remedia, but several reigns spent infiltrating various organizations let him lie easily. He found her assumption a good way to veil the reason behind his interest in those twins.

“Mayhaps,” he replied coyly. “I do find the two of you fascinating. Mysterious twins with an unknown past and great talents, working for an unseen mastermind… it makes for an alluring puzzle.”

“Careful, bold one. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.” Velvet stroked her chin, her grin widening. “Know what… I’ll bite. If your intel is confirmed, we’ll lend you some pathways for your personal use, and I’ll take you on a date to my hometown. Sound fair?”

“A date?” Simon scoffed. “What guarantee do I have that you won’t tell me a beautiful lie?”

“Because there’s nothing beautiful about my homeland?” Velvet teased him. “You’ll have to take my word for it, though you can look forward to a good surprise if I enjoy myself.”

That’s the best I’ll get, Simon thought. A mock date is still valuable. She might slip up and reveal something she shouldn’t.

Simon considered which location to give up. He was sorely tempted to tell the Cobweb about the Scorpion’s location and send them to die against Elios Magnos, but that would likely annoy the Prince of Spiders. A better option would be to cheat and give them information they were already on the verge of discovering for themselves.

“Have you heard of Rhapta?” Simon inquired.

“The legendary city of Uyo?” Velvet nodded. “We were planning an expedition there in a few months to plunder it. You say a crystal is there?”

“The Archer, yes. I’m not going to wait months for you to verify it though.”

“Fine,” Velvet replied. “I’ll pick you up after you complete Borsh’s task. Bring an umbrella, you’ll need it.”

One day, I’ll bring a rope for you and your sister’s pretty little necks, Simon thought. Just wait.

The first thing Simon did after Velvet’s departure was to test whether or not Belzemine’s Gladiator Crestone still worked for him.

It didn’t.

The five levels he had gained from it had gone down the drain, much to his annoyance. This also suggested that he would become unable to use the Scholar or Templar Class, and thus benefit from their enhanced abilities.

“Why?” he asked Belzemine in his frustration, while keeping his motives vague to avoid triggering the failsafe. “Why do some Classes not work for me while others do?”

“It may be that Your Majesty’s soul has grown more attuned to the Dark, and thus conflicts with the System,” Belzemine suggested. “Your Majesty may become entirely unable to use non-Overlord Classes at some point. This is probably why your father gave away the Commander Crestone to Lord Paimon.”

“It’s possible,” Simon conceded with reluctance. Could I transfer useless Vassal levels to a Noble Class? Would the System notice the trick?

Either way, he would have to become very careful when leveling-up in non-Overlord Classes from now on. He would need to assume they were each restricted to a single reign, and that it would close off some possibilities. There was no way he could infiltrate Mastemo’s Templars again without an extensive setup now that said Class wouldn’t work for him anymore.

Afterwards, Simon had Duchar summon him back to Telluria so they could proceed with a certain experiment.

“I wonder,” Duchar said once he completed Overlord Call and manifested Simon in the archives, “If Your Majesty’s organization has a way to teleport across vast distances, why did you have me summon you?”

“Because I don’t want the Cobweb to find this place. They will slip past your defenses and rob the archives. Allowing them to find my father’s secrets is a worst-case scenario for me.” Simon raised his hand. “Lord of the Demon Castle.”

Simon had ordered Shabram to destroy the crystal in her home so he could summon another in the archives, since he could only have one active at a time. The miasma crystal flooded the area with otherworldly darkness, much to Duchar’s fascination.

“Will this core be enough for the Dark Visionary ritual?” Simon inquired.

Duchar stroked his beard and hesitated for a moment before answering with a firm, “No. Your Majesty’s crystal is a wonder, a true wonder, but it is an extension of yourself rather than a true shard of the Abyss. We need a more unique artifact of the Dark if we are to forge a sufficiently powerful connection.”

“So we do need a Zodiac Fiend crystal,” Simon grumbled, having feared as much. Come to think of it, is that the reason why the High Confessor slotted one in his forehead? Because he hoped it would have awakened Visionary powers in himself too?

“In terms of good news, I have nearly completed the required alchemical concoction,” Duchar said. “I would suggest only using it for the ritual, considering the potential side effects.”

“I’ll have you move onto another project then,” Simon explained as he summoned a certain trio of gems from his Inventory. “These are the souls of the Monk’s disciples. The archives’ anti-divination wards should keep their location secret. I want you to interrogate them about the Zodiac Fiends, the demonbarrows, or any suspicious information their teacher might have shared with them. Anything will help.”

He had the sneaky suspicion the Cobweb’s infiltration of Fablan was somehow related to the presence of a demonbarrow on the island.

“Otherwise, we’ll proceed with your son’s transfer,” Simon said. “Have you prepared the appropriate vessel?”

“I have indeed.” Duchar bowed. “I appreciate your assistance in this matter, Your Majesty.”

“Well, I reward faithful service.” And I owe your family much. “Guide me to your son.”

Duchar guided him to Hector’s resting crypt in the archives’ depths, where Simon found him in a deep sleep and strapped to a table right next to another inactive flesh golem. Although nearly identical to Hector, the new one was in much better shape, lacking any bolts or artificial parts, with its stitches being so subtle one could hardly spot them. His sister was there, tending to him.

Most importantly, a certain item rested on a nearby shelf: a ghastly black helmet with bent, purple horns akin to tentacles connecting to Its back. Runes carved upon it in lines akin to a brain’s lobes covered its surface. Simon could sense the psychic energies radiating from it with a mere look.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” Cassandra welcomed him kindly. “I hope you had a nice trip.”

“You… you are too kind, Cassandra.”

Cassandra’s head tilted to the side. “If I may ask, Your Majesty, why do you flinch every time you look at me?”

Simon scowled. Damn her perceptiveness. “You resemble a dead lover of mine I cherished very much. The resemblance is… uncanny.”

“Oh,” Cassandra replied demurely. “My condolences then. Should I wear a mask in your presence?”

“No, no, it’s… it’s fine. I just need to get used to it.” The sooner the better. “Either way, let us tend to your brother.”

“Is Your Majesty certain it will work?” Duchar asked with slight unease. “I do not wish to doubt your capabilities, but… he is my son.”

“I trust my Perks.” Simon summoned a sacrificial dagger from his Inventory. “Pay close attention.”

He raised the dagger high and stabbed Hector in the artificial heart keeping his current body animated, disabling his current vessel while he remained in a coma. Simon felt the flow of experience, followed by the sensation of a black gem forming in his hand. He had successfully extracted his soul.

“Fascinating,” Duchar muttered with rapturous attention. “Your Majesty can bind even undead souls.”

“I can do more than extract them,” Simon said as he moved to the helmet. “Let us move you into your new abode, Hector.”

The first time Simon met Duchar, he had learned about one of his father’s cancelled projects to create a helmet capable of copying the user’s thoughts and transferring them to a new body. Balzam had given up on the idea due to the Overlord’s Indomitable Crown interfering with the process. This incomplete Helm of Possession had been gathering dust ever since… until today.

Simon wove both Hector’s soul and other spells such as Mindflayer into the item, letting Devil Forgemaster guide his hands under the watchful gaze of the Honorius family. His crafting lasted a few minutes, until he fully completed the cursed item.

Once he had finished, Simon placed the helm onto the newer, fresher flesh golem. The device’s lobs glowed with otherworldly light as the corpse’s eyes snapped open in an instant.

“Mesmerizing,” Duchar commented with elation. “The body immediately reacted to the soul within the helm. A true triumph of magic and science.”

“Brother?” Cassandra inquired with a hint of worry. “Brother, do you hear us?”

“I do, Cassandra.” His voice was clearer, firmer, though still deep as a tomb. It still brought much relief to his father and sister. “My mind is… clearer. Sharper.”

“That is because your soul is held in this helmet, not a rotting brain,” Simon explained. “The Helm of Possession will let you take over whoever wears it if you succeed in a battle of wills. An empty undead vessel offers no resistance.”

Hector turned his head at him, squinting in recognition. “You… you are the Overlord. I can feel your power.”

“I am Simon Magnos, the Fourth Overlord.” It pleased Simon that Unquestionable Ruler now affected Hector. As a bonus, the Helm of Possession protected the wearer against the berserk, madness, and charm ailments as compensation for the curse dwelling within. That should let him quell his undead fury. “How are you feeling?”

“I am… well.” Hector looked around at his new body. “I still feel cold.”

“This is a mere temporary accommodation, my son,” Duchar reassured him with paternal joy, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Now that we confirmed the helm works, we will work on better and more lifelike bodies for you to inhabit. I assure you that we will heal you.”

“I have another body in mind for you as part of our trials,” Simon said with a grin of dark glee. “An empty vessel with a much wider smile.”