The Hundred Reigns [Timeloop LitRPG]

Lampwick’s tunnels were damp and dark.

The noxious haze filling the sewers would have long poisoned Simon without his immunities. The thick, oozy muck flowing up to his knees matched the worst of his own concoctions in foulness. And the stench… the stench was unbearable. Only slimes could call this place a home, and they did.

Magda’s warning rang true; the city’s alchemists and inventors did dump a lot of dangerous wastes into the sewers. Simon had encountered giant mutated rats, oozes, chemically bleached alligators, goblinoid vermin, and even a handful of elementals. Quite the menagerie.

Simon had also crossed paths with adventurer parties from Lampwick’s guilds tasked with wiping out the local creatures. He had avoided them all by sticking to the shadows with Nightveil so far, and stopped encountering any of them altogether once he progressed deep enough into the tunnel system. The mayor’s office likely only paid them to patrol key facilities like the water treatment plant and ignore truly dangerous areas.

What a failure of state policy. Endymion would have already sent in the army to clean this place up and established strict disposal rules in this government’s place.

“Here, master,” one of his branded slime minions said through telepathy once they reached an old, cracked wall. “Behind.”

Simon tested the tunnel’s stability, then smashed the wall with his fist. Stones shattered and the muck flowed into the new opening, revealing a hidden cave covered in black mushrooms and viscous moss. A cloud of dust welcomed him inside.

Simon stepped out of the muck and into a dark room with slimes slithering in his footsteps. He spotted rusted tools, bits of decayed bones, and the scattered remains of broken workbenches lying around. This place appeared to be an abandoned alchemist’s laboratory, so old that a thick layer of dust covered all the walls and tools present. The slimes were adamant that no human had lived here in many years, and he believed them.

Who lived there, I wonder? Simon thought as he explored the underground complex. An old hidden laboratory in the sewers was bound to have either a hidden treasure or traps, likely both. What did you have to hide?

It wasn’t actually the first sewer hideout he had found so far, but it was the deepest and best protected. All the others had been claimed by smugglers or were too close to the surface, risking discovery.

A cursory examination of the place confirmed that, one, it was bigger than Simon expected, with over a dozen rooms ranging from what was likely a now-empty bedroom, a former library, a reinforced vault, and storage rooms; and two, its former occupant had taken everything of value on their way out. Simon found no trace of who could have built this place, or for what purpose.

No matter. It had been abandoned for years, likely decades, and if the old owner returned, Simon would welcome them properly.

This will be an ideal base. Simon walled up the opening with a spell, then summoned his Dungeon crystal and claimed the old workshop as his own lair. A handful of imps and undead servants should be enough to restore the laboratory back to peak condition. I could dig down to expand it further in the future, too.

He needed a place where he could practice more… questionable forms of crafting away from everybody’s gaze. Being the genius that he was, Jym Coil intended to develop a mechanical way to produce electricity that didn’t require magic. The idea of producing such potent energy without mana sounded absurd to Simon at first, but since thunderclouds could do so naturally, it wasn’t entirely far-fetched.

However, finding a research subject for the Exposition that fit his mentor’s ethical guidelines had already turned out to be quite the struggle for Simon. The Planetary Exposition enforced certain rules about what could be showcased, and Jym Coil had very strict standards.

“No weapons.” Coil had insisted on that. “The Planetary Exposition showcases inventions advancing civilization’s progress. Weapons push it back towards barbarism.”

Coil’s warning about crafting Classes had unfortunately proved true enough. Passive Perks were active at all times and impossible to tune out. Countless ideas fueled by Devil Forgemaster immediately filled Simon’s mind whenever he considered crafting a tool, all of them involving either curses or inflicting harm on others. It was like struggling with intrusive thoughts, and he had yet to find a workable project for the Exposition as a result.

At least this will be a good exercise on how to resist my Class’ influence. I’ll learn to compartmentalize my sense of self from the Overlord archetype. Simon wiped dust off a wall with his hand. This will be my Overlord lab, and the one above my Simon one.

He summoned a small cadre of imps and then issued his orders. “Clean this place up.”

“With blood?” one of the imps asked hopefully.

“With soap,” Simon replied upon dropping supplies from his Inventory, much to his minions’ annoyance. He then opened up telepathic communication with Shabram. “You may proceed with the spell. Prepare me a bath, and dump a bottle of perfume in it.”

He found himself teleported to the Gremory mansion’s bathroom, half a world away.

“Welcome back, Your Majesty,” she said upon welcoming him with a small group of spellcasters from her household. She recoiled a bit upon smelling the stench of sewer water clinging to him. “I take it your trip to Muse was… difficult.”

“Let’s just say I find their public health services vastly inferior to ours.” Thankfully, Shabram’s bathroom had a warm bathtub whose water could wash the stench away. “At least we have now opened a new bridge between their nation and ours.”

With the Honorius family active in Beleth, his Dungeon beneath Lampwick, and a reserve of teleportation gems to call on, Simon could now teleport around between his empire and Muse at will. He would smuggle all the tools he needed to build himself a second laboratory back to his Dungeon, then establish a safehouse where he could train in peace.

Simon dispelled his Overlord armor and sank into the bath, sinking into the waters as Shabram gave him her report on their own conspiracy. As asked, she had provided Euphemia with intel on the elven conspiracy and subtly guided her to the conclusion that Louis murdered his father.

“The Church Party is preparing for war, as expected,” Shabram summarized. “Plans are in place to claim the hidden airship fleet and arrest House Malphas with Lady Firewand’s assistance. Once Patriate and Elaine Malphas are in custody, we can force Duke Eligos and Duke Flauros to cooperate against the crown-prince. Casval Ashmodai was also successfully captured.”

“Which only leaves House Barbatos as a main source of concern,” Simon guessed. He had used what little free time Coil afforded him to finish reading Shabram’s files on Louis and his supporters. While they didn’t give more insight into his deranged brother he hadn’t already obtained across the reigns, it did grant Simon a greater understanding of the War Party’s dynamics.

Although Louis drew wide support from the army from his position as Marshal and his reforms, his main financial and political backer among the nobility remained Duke Barbatos. Supporters like Duke Eligos and Duke Flauros had been thoroughly subverted by the elven conspiracy, and both Lauriane and Dassein could be convinced to turn against their sibling once his crimes came to light. This left House Barbatos as the only power block to neutralize when Simon decided to put Louis down.

Isabelle was the key. According to reports, she had been introduced to Louis when they were teenagers and the two hit it off well, with her magical talent, grace, and intelligence catching the prince’s fancy. Imperial Intelligence believed her romantic feelings for Louis were genuine and that he liked her as much as a soulless maniac like him could appreciate anyone.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

However, Isabelle was not so different from Anna in that she followed her family first and foremost. This confirmed Simon’s suspicions that Balzam purposely delayed the wedding so he could fracture the War Party by cancelling the betrothal at any time.

“What if we suggested a marriage to Dassein or Thalas through secret channels?” Simon wondered. “Perhaps Magvolia as a bride price?”

“It will be taken as an insult,” Shabram countered. “A marriage to the crown-prince is as close to marrying the Overlord himself, and any lesser brother will be a downgrade. Duke Barbatos would only agree to break the betrothal if Lady Isabelle were to marry Your Majesty, which in turn would prevent you from claiming Lady Anna’s hand.”

Which Maublanc would likely betroth to Thalas. The mere thought frustrated Simon to his core. While he had come to accept his younger sibling could potentially become a good person over time, Anna…

Anna still deserved better.

“Unless we can prove Louis’ guilt, at which point he might swallow his pride and settle for a new offer,” Simon decided. “Suggest the idea to Euphemia, see how she reacts. No one must see my hand at work.”

“As Your Majesty wishes.” Shabram opened up a new report. “On the matter of the other investigation, while I can confirm that he was indeed involved in a failed legal battle with the Bert Trading Company over Lampwick’s city light patent, I couldn’t find any trace of a Jym Coil emigrating from Bujan.”

As Simon feared. “Do you think he changed his name when he fled the country?”

“Possibly, or the pertinent records were destroyed during the Reformation. This wouldn’t be unusual, considering he emigrated many years ago during the chaos of war.” Shabram closed the file. “However, I find it unlikely that someone like him didn’t make any waves of any sort in his homeland.”

“You are suggesting that Jym Coil lied about his background?”

“I cannot confirm nor exclude it yet. I need more time to investigate.”

“Keep looking.” Simon shared her suspicions, but he was willing to extend Jym the benefit of the doubt for now. “What of Magda?”

“Unlike her husband, it was very easy for my agents to compile a file on her,” Shabram replied. “Age 29, born Magda Florenz, daughter of Enoch Florenz and Anne Florenz, a couple of farmers and celebrated apothecaries who achieved recognition in Muse for developing growth-enhancing food for livestock. Magda worked at the family farm until her sixteenth birthday, where she leveled up her Rancher Class, then attended Lampwick’s University of Science and graduated as a valedictorian within five years’ time.”

“Interesting… So Magda comes from wealth?”

“Yes. Many expected her to pursue an esteemed academic career until her marriage to Jym Coil. Her parents didn’t support the match, but they have remained in contact with her even after they retired to the family farm.”

Overall, the file matched what Simon had learned from his own private investigation and what Magda told him during their discussions. The mystery surrounding her husband did bother Simon though. Something didn’t add up with Jym Coil, from his seemingly intimate knowledge of the Crafter Class’ limits to his unverifiable origins…

“I have also sent out our agents to uncover the Musan Champion project,” Shabram concluded. “Considering the size and firepower of the constructs Your Majesty saw in their vision, I would assume their components are built in separate factories across the land and then assembled in a secret site. I have high hopes of eventually mapping out the supply chain involved.”

“Keep looking,” Simon said before changing the subject. “Tell me, has Aegio ever traveled beyond Endymion?”

“He has only seen Marthrone and Navarre.” Shabram raised an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

“I simply wondered if he would like seeing Lampwick and the Planetary Exposition with his own eyes once it opens, now that we can smuggle people there in disguise.” Simon smiled at Shabram. “With his mother too, of course.”

Shabram returned his smile. “We will think about it.”

—---

It only took a few nightly teleportation trips between Lampwick, Marthrone, and Beleth for Simon to build himself a proper shadow lab. He smuggled all the supplies he needed with his Inventory, then summoned and bound Agrat to serve as the base’s caretaker when he was occupied on the surface. She reinforced the walls with spells until he was certain no one above would sense the Dungeon.

Simon’s priorities for the year involved mastering the Techniques Louis had introduced him to, completing the wind spell he had been researching by using Valne’s Megalith as an inspiration, studying dark eidolons, and exploring what Devil Forgemaster’s latest upgrade could provide. His gut told him the latter might finally allow him to learn what Libromancy was all about.

Dark eidolon studies were put on the backburner for now, since Simon couldn’t risk summoning the likes of Carbuncle without alerting the Sanctuary that something was happening on the surface. Corrupting old friends also ran contrary to his attempt at ethical self-medication too.

He instead ordered Shabram and her agents to gather intel on eidolons he could potentially bind, whether in Muse or elsewhere. There had to be creatures weaker than the Five Sovereigns he could barter with.

Simon otherwise worked on completing a Tier VII spell inspired by his studies of Valne’s Megalith with Agrat’s assistance. His creation, Chaos Wind, unleashed a mighty whirlwind capable of harming targets and confusing them with Madness.

It occurred to Simon that Jym Coil might be wrong about Classes being unable to innovate, or at least lacking the full picture. Adaptive Spellcasting had allowed him to create new forms of sorcery unknown to everyone else. Variants of existing spells were still innovations in their own way.

Unfortunately, while Muse did have a Megalith of its own, it was currently beyond Simon’s ability to study.

“The Earth Megalith fuels the Crafter’s Tower and Muse’s Crestone production,” Agrat informed him. That didn’t surprise Simon all that much, and it would explain why the Crafter Tower could fly in a pinch with such a power source. “They overexploit it beyond reason.”

Her comment caught Simon’s attention. “What makes you think that?”

“I detected small instabilities in this nation’s leylines when warding this base. A weakness in its flow of mana.” Agrat’s head tilted to the side. “Would Your Majesty allow me to study this further?”

“Yes, of course.” It might give Simon more intel on the Crafter’s activities, perhaps even their Champion construction. Their manalith cores were likely extracted from the Earth Megalith. “So long as you do not bring attention to our base.”

He already had enough people looking for him to start making waves now.

It took a while, but Simon eventually found a potential investor for Coil Futuristics: a certain plutocrat called Diamante Collodi, who agreed to receive him and Magda at his estate near the opera house.

“It’s a bad idea,” Magda said once the coach delivered them in front of the estate’s pearly gates. The enormous manse and its garden rivaled some of Endymion’s keeps in size and dwarfed them in splendor. “Diamante has a nasty reputation.”

“He’s a collector and toymaker with deep pockets,” Simon countered. Diamante’s Land of Toys was Muse’s main company in that field. “Every family in town has purchased something from him.”

“He’s a dirty old man with good publicity,” Magda replied with a frown. “Everyone knows he has whores brought to him by carriage every night. They say he has a fetish for donkey beastwomen.”

“But he is a business rival of Bert, and he agreed to receive us,” Simon countered. “His private life only concerns him, and it won’t hurt to at least listen to what he has to say.”

Magda’s scowl never left her face, but their financial situation was too precarious for her to complain when butlers led them past the estate’s gates. “Why did you have us change coaches on our way here?”

“Because we were being trailed.” Simon had noticed two men in coats following them the moment they left Coil Futuristics. Stubborn stalkers too, though nowhere near as subtle as the shadow which he had spotted a few weeks ago. “I’m pretty sure we lost them.”

Magda didn’t sound all that surprised. “Must be the Finktons. They’re officially a detective agency, but truly a thug-for-hire group. Bert often sends them to intimidate our suppliers.”

“Figured.” Odd that someone like Bert would expend so many resources to ruin someone without going in for the kill… “Well, hopefully they’ll have bad news to report to their employer before too long.”

The butlers led them into an extravagant foyer paved in gold, tapestries, and fine red carpets whose collective price would likely bankrupt a minor noble. Magda looked almost intimidated by the wealth presented here, though Simon personally found it more gaudy than anything. This place had all the marks of someone trying to showcase their newfound wealth in an ostentatious manner.

This made sense. Diamante Collodi apparently started out as a lowly coachman who worked his way up the social ladder, first by building a transportation business and then moving into entertainment. He had something to prove.

The staff led them upstairs to an office on the second floor, where Diamante received them behind a vast mahogany desk capable of accommodating his enormous girth. Their host turned out to be a little, broad man in his fifties, plump and greasy. He dressed in a colorful red attire and used a hat to cover his receding hairline. Simon might have mistaken him for a genial, smiling entertainer if not for the sharpness in his cold, grey gaze. He could recognize a wolf-in-sheep’s clothing when he saw one.

However, the man didn’t bother Simon as much as the woman already present in the room. He barely managed to keep a straight face at the sight of her, his mind furiously considering all the implications of her presence here.

“My, my, welcome, welcome,” their host said with a thin, soft voice. He warmly shook Simon’s hand and kissed Magda’s own, even though the latter nearly recoiled at his touch. “What a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The same goes for us, Mr. Collodi,” Magda replied politely. “May I ask who is the lovely lady with you?”

“Elsa,” Velvet introduced herself with a viper’s smile. “Elsa Nightingale.”