The Hundred Reigns [Timeloop LitRPG]

Simon spent most of his night after the disastrous drinking game working on Lorimor’s mind, alongside his two new assistants.

He had strapped the man to a chair in the dungeons and then alternated between casting Memory Snatcher and Heart’s Desire in order to reshape his heart. The very first thing he did was to wipe the Stone Muse from his mind.

The results were… so-so. On one hand, removing his memories of the Stone Muse had cleansed Lorimor of his obsession with her, but peering into his brain with Heart’s Desire showed that worship of the Overlord had replaced that of his mistress. So very little had actually changed about the man’s heart.

“Would you sacrifice your son to me, in return for power and favor?” Simon asked his patient.

“Of course, Your Dark Majesty! I would offer you my own soul too!”

Simon grunted in annoyance and put Lorimor back to sleep. “Then we still have a long way to go.”

“Fascinating,” Agrat commented as she wrote down notes in her precious book. Devil Brands burned on her chest and provided a faint glow in the surrounding darkness. “It appears that a mind will attempt to fill the memory loss by providing substitutes.”

“Memories are easily altered by nature, and filtered through emotions,” Justine commented. Her expertise in enchantment had proved valuable for this experiment. “We regularly and unconsciously edit our own memories to make ourselves look better in our minds, or vilify those who made us feel small.”

“So you are saying removing the memories matters less than changing the target’s emotions?” Simon inquired.

“It is a complicated matter. Old memories are the foundations of a person’s emotional state in the present, but said personality alters those very memories to fit into its present configurations.” Justine looked down on Lorimor with a smirk of contempt. “If this man’s natural state is to become a slave to a powerful demon, then his issues run deeper than his encounter with a corrupted dryad.”

“It could be,” Simon conceded. Odette had informed him Lorimor always had an obsession with gathering knowledge, and he had been involved in shady activities even before the Stone Muse started influencing him. “What would be the solution then? Erase all memories of the last few years?”

“If the foundation remains the same, then who’s to say he won’t fall into the exact same pitfalls he did the first time around?” Justine chuckled to herself. “Your Majesty might be better off erasing a memory of his childhood and hoping for a ripple effect.”

Simon immediately dismissed the suggestion. He wanted to cure Lorimor of his madness, not transform him into a completely different person. “That would be very intrusive.”

“But highly interesting,” Agrat argued. “Studying the effects the removal of a key memory has on one’s personality would teach us so much about how a mortal mind changes and adapts.”

“Alternatively, we might be better off developing a spell that implants new memories to fill the void ourselves,” Justine suggested. “I daresay no one would look at our scholar twice if he showed fanaticism for the Light rather than beings of the Dark. He would easily find a place in the High Confessor’s flock.”

Mastemo never tried to sacrifice a child to the Light, as far as Simon knew at least. Implanting new memories might be a step too far as well. It would be no different from brainwashing him, the same way Helel reshaped souls to create her false angels. “I will think about it.”

“Why is Your Majesty even interested in salvaging this man at all?” Justine inquired. “I have spoken with Lady Kano in passing, and she felt nothing but hatred for her former husband. She will not welcome him back with open arms even if we cure him.”

“He’s the first patient for a psychic trauma treatment procedure,” Simon replied, with Agrat writing down his words. “Did I say something interesting?”

“I find you fascinating, Your Majesty. An Overlord determined to cure and heal others used to be an unthinkable miracle.” She closed her notebook. “Is your determination to help this Lorimor connected to your obvious sexual frustration? An attempt to distract yourself, mayhaps?”

Simon glared at Agrat, with Justine laughing. “One does not have to be a succubi to tell, Your Majesty. Did something happen between you and Lady Anna?”

“You better hold your tongue, the both of you,” Simon warned them. “That’s none of your business.”

“I am just suggesting that you have plenty of better ways to relieve those urges,” Agrat suggested, her succubi wings fluttering behind her. “Bedding the Lord of Dark would be a fresh new experience.”

“And I am among the best singers in the empire,” Justine boasted with a thin smile. “Perhaps Your Majesty would like a… private performance.”

Did everyone think he was like his father, driven by lust and one pillow talk away from granting others his favor?

Still, an Overlord like Simon could have any woman he wanted at any time. Balzam had left him with a sizable harem, and he wasn’t married to an empress who insisted on sending the concubines away. He could also summon any succubus to fill his bed too with a simple Demonbinding.

However, casual sex did not particularly appeal to Simon. Being with a woman with whom he connected with on an intimate level, and who helped him forget the pain of the reigns, was a source of joy one couldn’t find with most partners. Eole, Remedia, Anna, and Cassandra had all scratched that itch of his at one point or another. Agrat in particular inspired little more than disgust, being a traitor willing to murder her own daughter to feel an ounce of human emotion, and bedding her would be like betraying Cassandra.

Still, Justine was right. He needed to blow off some steam, and there was another kind of lust these women could help him satisfy…

“Summon some training dummies,” Simon ordered as he called his mace from his Inventory. “I have a Technique to master.”

Nothing soothed the mind better than training.

According to Louis, Magic Eraser was the creation of an ancient barbarian chieftain who loathed witches so much after one cursed him that every blow of his hammer would snuff the sorcery out of them.

The Technique worked by visualizing the flow of mana in a target, and then hitting it so hard as to unravel it; in short, it was all about demonstrating the superiority of strength over magic. There was no subtlety, no search for a fatal flaw in the enemy’s mana pathways, only a single strike that embodied the ancestral grudge between warriors and spellcasters.

And Simon had plenty of hatred to share.

By this point, Simon hardly gained any experience from killing lesser fiends due to his high level and having already slaughtered many of them in previous reigns, but Agrat and Justine knew how to summon other creatures; lesser beasts of Hell that were neither demons nor qlippoths, elementals conjured from the raw matter of the universe, familiars crafted from the essence of sorcery… in short, creatures that made for perfect training dummies for Magic Eraser. He would pulverize one after the other, drinking in the violence and the experience.

He was so close to a new level and yet every death felt hardly any more satisfying than droplets of water fed to a man dying of thirst.

Still, bashing in faces with a mace helped Simon clear his mind, and he put his time to use by questioning his teachers on Diabolism.

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“Most archfiends would be A-rank threats according to imperial threat assessment, so the equivalent of a Class user between level 60 and 80,” Justine explained. “S-rank archfiends are the domain of myths.”

“The Zodiac Fiends’ myth,” Simon guessed as he wiped otherworldly blood off his mace. Their kind lorded over the rest like nobles over commoners. “What about qlippoths?”

“They are all over the place, but Your Majesty is unlikely to encounter one outside of the Abyss,” Agrat said. “The main difference between qlippoths and us demons is that our siblings have no interest in interacting with the material plane. They rarely answer summons from mortals anymore.”

“Would you happen to know of a qlippoth with a single eye in its center and a thousand limbs that twist in impossible ways? A creature whose mere sight drives men to madness or death?”

Agrat pondered the description a moment before answering, “That may be Parallelos, the Curator. It is a very secretive and powerful entity.”

“I have heard of that one,” Justine said, chuckling. “It was one of the first qlippoths summoned to Brimir in ancient times, and it famously dragged the diabolist who called it back to the Abyss.”

Could it be the creature I encountered in the timeless depths? Simon wondered. “Why is it called the Curator?”

“There are rumors that Parallelos is something of a seer that can tell when people will die or when places will come to ruin,” Agrat explained. “It then collects unique objects and individuals that are about to be destroyed in its lair for safekeeping.”

That might explain why it was in the destroyed Frightwall. Studying the ruins of an erased future likely appealed to Parallelos’ sensibilities. “Could it be summoned?”

Agrat shook her head. “Parallelos has long lost interest in this world and is too powerful to be bound. Reaching its domain would require delving past the far reaches of Hell, where even we demons are not welcome.”

Simon had a few ways of reaching the Abyss, from the gates spread across the world to exploring a broken reign, but it would no doubt be a highly dangerous journey. He should probably focus on gathering more strength, power, and information before attempting anything of the sort.

Still, his teachers had given him a good list of potential archfiends to bind to soldiers or to use as fuel for his level progression. Simon had the feeling he might kill more fiends than any Paladin in history by the time his reigns came to an end.

Time passed and Simon eventually returned to his quarters to sleep, alone. He was about to fall asleep when one of the branded guards outside his room contacted him through telepathy. “Your Majesty, Lady Anna wishes to meet with you.”

Simon remained silent for a few seconds before deciding to indulge her. “Let her in.”

Anna walked into his bedroom alone, with a straight back and a dignified expression. Simon could tell from the moment she walked into his quarters that she had reached a decision about them, whatever it was.

“You’re early,” Simon said. He had given her until the morning to think things through.

“Because I have questions, and I need to hear the answers before reaching a decision.” Anna crossed her arms. “You said I had a power within me, something connected to the Light. What is it?”

“As far as I can tell, you are probably Saint Pharis’ reincarnation.”

Anna burst out laughing at his words, but it soon died in her throat. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, and it is not as much of a blessing as you think it is.” Though it might have certain benefits. “The strongest of the Zodiac Fiends, Helel the Maiden, is sealed inside the Light Megalith and can influence it. The power you receive from it is a lure, a bait to ensure she can draw you to her and possess you.”

“Is this a joke? Are you suggesting the Light’s holiest artifact is a demon’s prison?” Anna’s expression darkened. “You didn’t mention that at the council.”

“Besides the fact I would need proof, you can imagine the consequences,” Simon replied. “The Church of the Light would declare me a heretic, and the faithful would rise up in arms when we need unity most.”

“Keeping it a secret is just as bad, Simon. If you’re right and she escapes–”

“She can’t. Not without you.” Simon sighed. “And believe me, that’s a relief.”

Anna’s eyes widened slightly. “You fear her.”

“Helel is a living disaster. My visions of her show she could match our entire empire’s military on her own.” Simon knew he was no match for her at this point in time, let alone the calamity she would become should she ever receive the comet’s blessing. “She can never be allowed to escape her prison, and sad as it sounds, the people’s faith sustains it.”

“She must be quite the piece of work to shake you so…” Anna scoffed. “So the greatest power in Hell wants my body and soul? Should I be honored or offended?”

“Both, I suppose. She will lend you power through your Prayers, and you may have other latent abilities we could unlock.” Helping Anna access her Remembrances could be a start. “The Cobweb in particular would like to abduct you to offer you to Helel as a host.”

“Is that why you are trying to wipe them out?” Anna’s expression softened. “To protect me?”

“Yes.” Alongside the fact that he hated the organization that had caused him no end of trouble across the reigns. “No matter how things go between us, I will never let anyone harm you. You have my word on that.”

“Thank you, Simon… but still, I would have appreciated it if you had told me earlier.” Anna’s jaw clenched slightly. “I assume my father isn’t aware of it, let alone His Excellency?”

“You’re the only one I told, at least for now.” And Simon wouldn’t make the mistake of sharing the information early. “I feared that if the truth came out before we had time to prepare, then wicked souls would come after you in order to free Helel.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you can’t just keep those secrets to yourself, Simon. Their weight will crush you eventually.” Anna studied him a moment and then gathered her breath. “Okay.”

Simon frowned in confusion. “Okay?”

“I’ll marry you and become your empress.”

“Truly?” That took Simon slightly aback, since he had expected her to say no after that disastrous drinking game. “Are you sure?”

“No, not at all,” Anna replied bluntly, before hesitating. “Let me rephrase that. I won’t lie, I find some of your changes in personality unsettling, and I don’t think that will go away anytime soon. However…” She met his gaze. “In spite of everything, you’re still you, Simon. I believe in you.”

“I’m grateful for your trust, more than you think.” Simon feared he might have lost it with his last outburst. “Yet it’s not the only thing on your mind.”

“I’ve given thought about what you told me, about trading freedom for power.” Anna averted his gaze. “If I don’t marry you, then my father will put me into Thalas’ bed or some other duke. The only way I’ll be free is if I run away, but I have a duty to you, my dad, and to my subjects in the Berwick Islands.”

“You don’t,” Simon replied. “I won’t force that burden on you.”

Anna smiled sweetly. “You’re kind, Simon, but I’ve heard about the threat Illusea and their allies sent us. They’ll declare war on us soon, won’t they?”

Simon wished he could lie. “It seems inevitable at this point.”

“So we’ll have a war on our hands, and then we’ll face a global disaster one year from now,” Anna concluded. “I can’t run away from that when I could use my position to improve the situation.”

“Your help will change a lot, Anna.” Simply having Maublanc in his service would decisively influence the battles to come, and the Berwick Islands’ wealth would fund their campaigns.

“Moreover, I have the feeling that things will turn out for the worst if you only keep the likes of Louis or Lauriane in your entourage,” Anna added. “You need a more grounded advisor to anchor you, or many innocents will pay the price.”

Simon let out a small chuckle. “Lauriane isn’t a bad influence.”

“She is, Simon. Lauriane practices selective empathy. She reserves all of her kindness for her kin, and spares none to anyone else.” Anna cleared her throat. “I do, however, have a few conditions for our union. Three, actually.“

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“First things first, I’ll be your empress and wife, so I’ll support you in everything and never disagree with you in public… but I expect the same from you. You promised I wouldn’t be a court ornament, and I will hold you true to that. ”

“Of course,” Simon promised. “I won’t let anybody disrespect you, and you will have a seat at my council at all times. If we have an issue, we’ll talk things through.”

This reassured her, at least a little. “Second, if…” Anna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “When you inevitably take a mistress or concubine—”

“I have no intention of taking either, Anna.”

“I’m not blind, Simon.” She gave him a knowing look. “We’ll never be equals, I’ll never be enough for the person you’ve become, and opportunists like Antonine will throw themselves at you until you yield. I can see the writing on the wall.”

What kind of assumption was that? Simon would be lying if he said he wasn’t… tempted around Eole or Cassandra, but he knew how to control himself. “I thought you wanted a faithful husband?”

“Yes, but what we want and what we can get are two very different things.” Anna put her hands on her waist. “Let’s put it this way. If you cheat on me and take a mistress, there’s little I can do about it. If I take a paramour, would you allow me to keep him?”

Simon scowled. “No. No, he would have to die.”

“Yes, because you’re the Overlord and you can’t afford to look weak. In fact, I’m pretty sure the bigger your harem, the greater your prestige.” A thin smile stretched on Anna’s lips. “I mean, imagine if you landed, say, Queen Remedia of Cocagne as a mistress.”

“Yes… yes, I can imagine the public response,” Simon replied as he barely managed to keep a straight face. “Still, I don’t understand what you want.”

“I want a veto right. If one of your favorites gets on my nerves or grows a bit too annoying, she’s out. They have to beg for my permission, or they’ll never respect me.” Anna’s expression turned serious once more. “As I said, we’ll never be equals anymore… but I don’t want to be second place to anyone else, ever.”

“I don’t think you have much to fear on that front, but you have my word,” Simon replied. He had managed to stay faithful to Euphemia of all people, so he didn’t see why he would go behind Anna’s back. “And your last condition?”

“And third…” She leaned forward until their lips brushed. “When we’re alone, you’ll make me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.”

“Oh.” His hands moved to grab her back. “That can be arranged easily enough…”