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Chapter 58: The Season of the Minotaur (7)

  Simon stared at the crystal ball sitting on Cassandra’s table with wonder.

  Although he had always believed in the Oracle’s power of foresight, he had never been too interested in divination magic. Every important person in Frightwall carried items protecting them from it on top of all the measures the likes of Shabram took to counter the Oracle; not to mention that only specific Classes could cast the required spells.

  The Witch thankfully counted among them, so the two of them had decided to craft a crystal ball for her personal use after Simon took a room close to her apartment suite to keep her company in Whispermire. Since the crystal ball also had to include a curse due to Simon’s crafting Perk focusing on using on miasma, it would poison anyone touching it; a mere detail for Cassandra, whose Brand of Gluttony protected her from the ailment, and a security measure against anyone else.

  The device allowed her to scry on people or objects from afar with remarkable accuracy. Attempts at tracking down Silk had failed miserably, but they had managed to check on various rooms within the Midnight Market.

  “The Darkwood is shrouded in miasma,” Cassandra said. “I cannot pierce through the veil with my current power, though stronger spellcasters might be able to.”

  “What about me?” Simon asked. “Can you see me?”

  Cassandra waved her hand at the ball. Its surface began to reflect a mostly accurate picture of her suite, except she was sitting right next to a horrifying demon with folded wings rather than a man.

  “I cannot see Simon Magnos, but I can see Belias the Fiend,” Cassandra said, which confirmed Anathemic Secrecy worked as advertised. She could only observe what he wanted her to see.

  “Alright, I will alter my Perk a bit,” Simon said as he shifted his Anathemic Secrecy to blocking all divination attempts rather than sending false positives. He then grabbed a nearby potion off a shelf. “Can you see me?”

  “No,” Cassandra confirmed, “but I can observe the potion floating in the air.”

  As Simon feared. Anathemic Secrecy protected him from divination, but not necessarily the objects he carried on his person or things he interacted with. This gave credence to Shabram’s fears that something as precious as the Merchant Crestone could be tracked down in spite of his defenses. This might become another point in favor of claiming the Inventory Perk if it shielded the items within its pocket dimension from divination.

  “I believe I could craft a crystal ball capable of piercing through miasma with your assistance,” Cassandra told Simon. “It should at least let you observe events inside the Halls of the Minotaur. Divination becomes more accurate the more familiar the scryer is with the target, and that Dungeon draws its power from you.”

  “It would certainly help against unwelcome visitors,” Simon confessed, “and those will become more numerous by the day.”

  Demand for monster parts and materials had exploded now that Louis’ army had begun to buy them in vast quantities, so incursions into the Darkwood were growing more and more frequent. Carrock the Treant had already wiped out a party of classless adventurers who had gotten a little too close to the fairy ring yesterday, and another group had reached the elven ruins surrounding the Halls of the Minotaur before being wiped out.

  Most intruders were little more than glorified poachers, and none of them wielded any Vassal Classes, but they were growing bolder and more numerous. Every surviving group also helped map out the forest a little further, which in turn increased the chances that one of them might discover the Halls of the Minotaur.

  Thankfully, Simon had been able to leverage his growing cult in Whispermire to implant one or two agents among the most threatening adventurer parties. His followers were locals familiar with the Darkwood, so they had an easy time posing as recruits and then waylaying intruders by luring them towards dangerous creatures working for Simon.

  Simon sensed Lady Shabram’s presence at the edge of his mind and opened himself to her thoughts. “The package will be delivered today at the agreed-upon place, Your Majesty,” she said, “I have also confirmed that a large military drill is being planned for the month of Prairial, though I am not part of it. Prince Louis ordered me to focus my resources on the Church Party rather than in his backyard.”

  Prairial… so right before the Summer Solstice and second sacrifice, Simon thought before answering her. “Can you at least tell me who’ll be involved in the operation?”

  “I can already tell Your Majesty who is in charge of the program: Leonard Decarabia.”

  What? Simon flinched in surprise. Leonard? Leonard was coming here as a representative of the War Party? “Why? His house answers to Lord Paimon.”

  “It does, but Lord Leonard’s sister married Duke Flauros’ son, and that lineage supports Prince Louis’ claim to the throne. He chose his blood over his liege.”

  Simon grumbled to himself. Of course the various power blocs would have accelerated Tiella’s engagement to the Flauros brat in order to snatch another House out from Lord Paimon’s orbit. Euphemia wasn’t the only one who could play the marriage game.

  Moreover, Leonard made perfect sense as a training camp’s overseer. He was of a relatively high level, talented, and with a Class designed to protect weaker allies from injuries. As powerful as he would be on the field of battle, he would be ten times more useful to the War Party’s cause by ensuring multiple soldiers could level-up without risk.

  “And Duke Flauros married a sister of Patriate Malphas,” Simon recalled with a scowl. Was that a coincidence, or signs of a greater plan?

  “I have informed Prince Louis of my suspicions when it comes to House Malphas. He ordered me to put them both under close surveillance, but decided against taking direct action for now. I suppose he doesn’t wish to trouble Duke Flauros and Duke Eligos, both of whom are key to his war effort.”

  “Keep me informed, and try to look into the other people involved in the military drill,” Simon ordered before cutting communications and mulling over this new piece of information.

  Leonard would be in charge of the raid… was that good or bad news? He was an Overlord loyalist, but they were nearly four months into the current reign and in the middle of a civil war. His allegiance had likely changed a great deal given recent events.

  Should Simon try to approach him and recruit him to his cause in the hopes that he could cancel the raid, or at least prevent his trainees from assaulting the Halls of the Minotaur? But if he did reveal himself to Leonard and he ended up revealing the truth to Louis or the rest of his family, then the Seasonal Key ritual would likely go awry. Simon couldn’t risk discovery yet.

  And what should he do if Leonard ever led a party straight to his doorstep? The idea of fighting his own retainer—especially one who had proved loyal to the death in several reigns—unsettled Simon to his core.

  Perhaps a better option will present itself, given time, Simon told himself as he shook his head and focused back on reality. “Sorry, Cassandra, I received an urgent message.”

  “It is alright,” Cassandra reassured him. “I can tell when you mentally answer telepathic calls.”

  “You can?” Simon chuckled. “I suppose we’ve spent enough time together for that.”

  “It is a good thing, no?” Cassandra asked. “I appreciate the fact that you stayed here to keep me company. I enjoy it.”

  “So do I.” Speaking of appreciation, Simon looked inside his belongings and brought out a gift he had been working on for some time: a Crestone. “Here, I made this for you.”

  “For me?” Cassandra’s eyes lit up with interest as she looked it over. “It’s a Witch Crestone.”

  “You told me you needed at least three Witches to form a coven,” Simon said. “We’re working on supplying you with a third Crestone, so you should be able to create one soon enough.”

  “This is very kind of you, Simon. I will cherish this gift.” Cassandra took the Crestone and studied it closely. “I could ask Nora. She comes to me often, and she knows her way with herbs.”

  “Nora? Isn’t that one of the cultists?” Simon smiled. “Already on a first-name basis with some of them?”

  “I hope they can become my friends too,” Cassandra replied while returning his smile. “Shall we continue our divinations?”

  “Yes, but not here. There is a package I need to recover outside town and experiments I need to run with it.” He offered her his hand. “Would you kindly accompany me for a promenade on horseback, Cassandra?”

  “I would be delighted.”

  True to their arrangements, one of Lady Shabram’s agents had placed the Merchant Crestone in a box beneath a mound half a day’s ride from Whispermire. It didn’t take long for Cassandra and Simon to locate it, hidden under a gnarled tree’s roots, and open it up.

  Almost all Vassal Crestones were translucent, but the Merchant’s was as golden as the precious metal fueling its power, with a coin-like silver heraldry carved on its surface. A terrible heat coursed through Simon’s fingers when he touched it. He had never felt this way with any lesser Crestone before.

  It rejects me, Simon could tell. It loathes the Overlord.

  “Merchant,” he said, a flow of golden mana immediately surging from the Crestone.

  The energy flowing out of the device was incomparable to Vassal Crestones. Those pale counterfeits could only mimic a fraction of the Noble Classes’ power, and Simon could feel the difference. A thrill as pleasurable as that of a level-up coursed through his veins, bolstered by strengthened confidence. For a brief second, Simon was convinced he could do anything, fulfill any dream, overcome any obstacle, and bend the world to his will.

  That honeymoon period only lasted a second, as a wave of pure wrongness followed the Class outfit’s apparition. A rich and wealthy outfit, including a top hat, a formal suit with a small cloak, boots, and bowtie materializing over his skin. Such clothes should have felt comfortable, but they itched and burned his skin with a phantom pain. They weighed on his shoulders in a way the Overlord armor never did, pressing down on his chest. Even the Class’ phantom whip weapon seemed far heavier in his hand than it should be.

  The Merchant Crestone didn’t harm him, but it would if it could. The intuitive knowledge it provided Simon was given against its will, and the Perk was coaxed from its archetype.

  


  Level 1 Merchant Perk: Eye for Treasure I (Passive): You intuitively grasp the average monetary value of anything you see.

  Simon glanced at Cassandra, with phantom numbers floating next to her belongings: her robe, her veil, her staff, and crystal ball… with the highest value being assigned to Cassandra herself.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The Merchant Class actually put prices on people. Simon shuddered as he quickly grasped the implications.

  A slaver was still a merchant at the end of the day.

  “The suit looks good on you, Simon,” Cassandra complimented him.

  “You’re too kind,” Simon replied before casting aside the Merchant’s whip—watching it vanish into mana the moment it left his hand—and instead grabbed his morning star. His Class gave him an intuitive understanding of its Perks. “Inventory.”

  The morning star vanished without warning. A system screen popped up in front of Simon, showing his weapon placed amidst a sea of empty boxes. Most had a cross mark placed on them since he only had one level in Merchant.

  “Can you see the morning star with your crystal ball?” Simon asked Cassandra.

  “No,” she quickly confirmed. “It became untraceable the moment it disappeared."

  So Anathemic Secrecy did apply to objects placed in the Merchant's Inventory. This kept getting better and better. Simon only had to focus for the weapon to instantly reappear in his hand. He swiftly confirmed that he could easily switch items in the Inventory by having his ring and weapon move around in and out of the pocket dimension.

  Two reigns ago, when Simon first learned how to craft, Belzemine warned him against wearing more than one or two magical accessories at once because their mana would otherwise interfere with each other. This not only limited the amount of enchanted items he could carry, but also his tactical flexibility.

  Inventory neatly solved that. He would be able to switch between weapons and accessories on the fly depending on the situation, the same way Louis apparently used his Warrior Class’ armory to alternate between different weapons.

  Once he had finished testing this innate Perk’s limits, Simon decided on a bolder test: placing the Merchant Crestone itself in the inventory. The result was a predictable error message.

  


  You cannot put the Merchant Crestone in the Inventory.

  Simon suspected something like that would happen; it would become impossible to recover the Crestone otherwise. Unfortunately, that meant he could never extend Anathemic Secrecy to the Merchant Crestone itself. It would forever remain a security risk. He simply couldn’t afford to keep it close for long.

  “Let’s try out the other innate Perks, just in case,” Simon decided. Eye for Treasure held little use for Simon, and the Brand of Greed already provided more income than the Merchant’s Golden Rule, so only its Lootbox and Buddyguard interested him.

  Thankfully, having branded Odette Kano and gaining access to an ancient elven treasury meant he had inherited a sizable amount of money this month. Simon and Cassandra first tested the Lootbox Perk by paying a hundred golden coins to it. The first time he tried it, the coins vanished and transformed into a healing potion in a bottle; the second attempt provided a set of high-quality lockpicking tools; and the third a small shield.

  In short, Lootbox indeed appeared to be completely random. Even Cassandra’s gambling-enhanced intuition from the Brand of Greed didn’t appear to influence the results.

  “Well, this might be the most unreliable Perk I’ve seen yet,” Simon complained.

  “I find it funny,” Cassandra admitted. “Maybe we will get a good surprise if we keep trying?”

  “We don’t have infinite money to burn on this exercise.” Simon stroked his chin. “Although, I do wonder how the Perk picks objects. Does it have a list of objects with an assigned price it picks from? Where does the gold go? Is it transmuted into the object, or is it teleported somewhere else? This ability has to follow some sort of parameters…”

  Unfortunately, figuring it out would likely require time and money he didn’t have, and for dubious benefits on top of that. Simon made a note to maybe explore the ability’s potential applications in a future reign and then moved on to the Merchant’s final Innate Perk.

  “Buddyguard,” Simon declared while holding a purse.

  His funds immediately vanished in a flash of light, and a mighty creature appeared in front of him in a puff of smoke.

  The creature resembled a humanoid of stout stature, garbed in orange armor that was gilded at the edges, albeit with skin dark as night, a lipless mouth filled with fangs, and six red eyes glowing in a hexagonal pattern beneath a horned helmet. Six arms each carried a different weapon in their clawed hands: a flail, a sword, a spear, a dagger, an axe, and a staff. It loomed over Simon and Cassandra like an adult over children.

  And it didn’t look pleased to be here in the slightest.

  “Only a hundred golden coins, you jackass?!” the figure sneered in perfect Endymian, his masculine voice thundering with outrage. “What a cheapskate! You should be ashamed to summon the great Xenophon with such meager monetary compensation!”

  Well, they were off to a good start already. “My apologies… Xenophon, was it?” Simon replied, squinting as he noticed a floating number above the creature’s head. “Twenty-one?”

  “The more you pay, the stronger I become,” the creature explained. “Every zero you add increases my level by ten. You paid a mere hundred golden coins, so you get me at level twenty-one. Pay ten thousand, I’ll be level forty-one and so on. And I only accept valuable currency.”

  “I see,” Simon replied. The mechanic surprised him a little. “I thought the Perk would have summoned a different creature based on the price.”

  “Nope, you only get me, and now I’m stuck as a weakling until our contract expires.”

  “What are you?” Cassandra asked with curiosity. “Are you an Eidolon?”

  “Yup, that I am, lass,” Xenophon replied. He sounded awfully casual and down to earth for a summoned spirit. “Don’t think I let just anybody summon me, though. I’ve been in an exclusive summoning contract with the Merchants since the Crestone’s creation.”

  Simon struggled to imagine that creature standing up to the likes of the Phoenix in battle, but appearances could be deceiving, and a large enough payment might make him a match for the likes of Louis.

  “There’s something wrong with you,” Xenophon told Simon, his six eyes squinting at his employer. “I sense darkness stirring beneath your skin. Did you kill my previous employer? I think I felt his demise through the Crestone.”

  “Would it matter?” Simon asked. Wait, if Patriate Malphas had summoned this creature, then he might know something useful.

  “Nope,” Xenophon replied with a mercenary shrug. “My only loyalty is to my current employer.”

  “Then what does our contract entail?”

  “I’m lawfully contracted to protect you for the next day and night. I’ll kill anybody who tries to harm you or die trying. A likely outcome at my current level, I might add.” Xenophon rolled all six of his shoulders. “Thankfully, I’m an Eidolon, so death only temporarily banishes me from this plane of existence. You can also end the contract by simply dismissing me.”

  “Wait.” Simon frowned as an idea crossed his mind. “I could dismiss you, then summon you again at a higher level if I increase the payment amount?”

  “Now you’re catching on quickly. Pony up if you want to see the good stuff. On the plus side, any experience I earn goes to you, so you’ll be the only one to benefit when I kill somebody.”

  “What do you do with the money?” Cassandra asked out of the blue. “Why would an Eidolon need money?”

  “Uh…” Xenophon cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed. Simon suspected nobody had asked him that question before. “It's a professional secret of the highest confidentiality.”

  “Mmm…” Simon replied with skepticism. Then again, he didn’t really care what a bodyguard used his pay for. He was more interested in other intel. “Is there no way to extend your contract’s length?”

  “Yes, if you renew the payment after it expires.”

  Then he wasn’t worth wasting a Devour Crestone Perk on. Having an additional bodyguard with a modulable level could come in handy against a powerful foe, but Xenophon required so much money, and for such a short duration, Simon couldn’t see himself summoning him much, even for grinding purposes.

  However, if Xenophon had indeed served Merchants since the Crestone was created, then he knew their secrets.

  “Does your contract prevent you from discussing your previous employers?” Simon asked.

  “Uh… no, I don’t think so,” Xenophon replied after some hesitation. “Why’s that?”

  “Does the name Elios Magnos ring a bell?”

  “No, not really. I don’t remember having contracted with someone called that.”

  Simon scowled. “A Librarian with three eyes then?”

  “Ah, yes, I recall someone like that,” Xenophon said, which immediately piqued Simon’s interest. “It was the third and final time my first employer contracted me, right in the middle of a battle. He and a few other Class users were fighting some kind of winged goatfish archfiend on a floating island in the sky. That Librarian was trying to seal it or something, but they needed extra muscle to keep the creep down.”

  Simon’s eyes widened in utter surprise. “A goatfish?”

  “Yeah, a goatfish,” Xenophon replied with a shrug. “Half winged goat, half fish, all mean with a black crystal in the middle of its sorry face. Nasty critter.”

  Could he have fought the Zodiac Fiend of the Goatfish sign? And on a flying island?

  Could it be…

  “Can you describe the island to me?” Simon inquired.

  “I was in the middle of a battle, so I didn’t pay much attention, but I recall winged humans fighting on our side,” Xenophon explained, confirming Simon’s suspicions. “Like I was pummelling the Abyss out of that goat before it threw me off the island’s edge, and I fell down for minutes on end. My employer had paid me enough to bring me to level seventy-one, so I survived the fall, but my contract expired before I could find my way back. I think my contractor was slain.”

  He had met the kish people, and Balzam Magnos’ documents mentioned a floating continent as a potential location for a missing demonbarrow.

  Which meant a Zodiac Fiend might be sealed away somewhere in Eole’s Sanctuary in the sky. It didn’t sound that safe all of a sudden.

  Simon interrogated Xenophon on the matter further, but the mercenary didn’t have much insight to provide. The first Merchant had apparently been a human male called Waybright, but he had only called upon Xenophon thrice: once to interrogate him about his contract, once to protect him during a business deal with a dragon—which ended without violence—and a final time for that battle in the sky. The Eidolon knew nothing about Elios Magnos beyond that moment, or even how the battle concluded.

  In fact, it seemed like most Merchants only summoned Xenophon once when testing the Buddyguard Perk, and rarely called him again unless they were facing an imminent threat to their lives. This likely explained why none of the texts about past Merchants mentioned him. Calling him was a last resort.

  “What about Patriate Malphas?” Simon inquired. “What can you tell me about him?”

  “I don’t know any person with that name.”

  “He was your last employer,” Simon insisted. “A black-haired slimeball?”

  “Yes, yes, I see who you’re talking about now,” the Eidolon replied. “But Patriate Malphas wasn’t his name. He was called Barthandelus.”

  Simon’s eyes widened in surprise before his mind put two and two together. “What’s my name?”

  “What a stupid question.” Xenophon scoffed. “Simon Magnos.”

  “So you instantly learn the true name of anyone who summons you,” Simon guessed. Which meant Patriate had infiltrated the empire under a false name. “Barthandelus… that name sounds strange.”

  Cassandra, who had mostly listened so far without saying a word, provided the answer. “Barthandelus is an elven name.”

  That brought even more questions than answers. Was Patriate a half-elf like his daughter, raised in Illusea and sent to infiltrate the empire? Or some adopted spawn of an elven couple? Simon had the intuition that this information mattered, but he didn’t see much use in it right now.

  “Did he ever summon you, Xenophon?” Simon asked. Any detail could help.

  “Yeah, twice; the first time to ask questions about my contract, the second to assess my capabilities,” Xenophon replied. “He showed me a magical sword and asked me how much money it would cost to make me strong enough to slay a level ninety-plus Overlord with it in one strike.”

  Simon squinted at the Eidolon. “And what did you answer?”

  “That he should summon me with a nine-zero payment, and that I couldn’t guarantee it anyway,” Xenophon replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I can kill anybody for the right price, but the last Overlord I fought crushed me under his stinking dragon foot. They’re a tough lot. Barthandelus thanked me for my honesty, then dismissed me and never called on me again.”

  So Xenophon hadn’t slain Balzam Magnos. Simon briefly wondered what would happen if an Eidolon or summoned creature were to kill an Overlord. Would the Class go to their master? Or would it transfer to someone else?

  This also implied that Malphas and his employers had considered other alternatives before sending the assassin who eventually slew Balzam Magnos. Was their chosen killer so weak the Oracle feared they wouldn’t be able to pull it off?

  Further questioning yielded little results. Patriate Malphas’ interactions with Xenophon had been too short for the mercenary Eidolon to learn much about his personality or goals. Simon had the nagging suspicion that the man intentionally avoided summoning his bodyguard during his tenure to keep him as a trump card.

  “Night’s falling,” Xenophon noted upon staring at the sky. “If you want to use me, you should hurry up. You’ve got until sunrise until I take my leave.”

  “I think we’ve covered everything I wanted to discuss, except one thing.” Simon clutched the Merchant Crestone. “Will your contract come to an end if I destroy the Merchant Crestone?”

  “Uh… probably.” Xenophon scratched the back of his helmet. “I don’t think anybody has ever tried.”

  “Let us check then, shall we?” Simon shed the Merchant outfit for the Overlord armor, stunning the Eidolon. “Devour Crestone.”

  The Merchant Crestone burned like the heart of the sun in his palm, and then it shrieked.

  A scream rippled across the fabric of reality as the Noble Crestone illuminated the darkness, its radiance causing Xenophon to decompose into nothing. A torrent of miasma swirled between Simon’s fingers and smothered the light to death. The Merchant’s heart drowned in darkness and then disappeared with a final wail, its demise filling Simon’s bones with power and a rush of experience. The Overlord in him rejoiced at the conquest and destruction of an ancient foe, however temporary.

  


  You have assimilated the Inventory Active Perk. It shall now replace Devour Crestone II.

  Inventory (Active): You can stock up to one item per Overlord level that you own in a unique pocket dimension only you have access to, and bring them out at will. Should you die, all items in your Inventory are released at the spot of your demise.

  He didn't receive any vision this time. He could feel the Merchant Crestone resisting him even in death, refusing to be robbed of its knowledge, denying him its help; and he wasn't strong enough to compel obedience yet.

  Simon nonetheless smirked from ear to ear. As he had guessed, the newly assimilated Inventory would scale with his Overlord level.

  Time to stock up.

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