The Hundred Reigns [Timeloop LitRPG]

Casmene would fall.

Simon held little doubt when the walled city appeared over the horizon. Its citadel was surrounded by a dark forest on its eastern edge—whose trees Frightwall uprooted merely by flying over them—and the long road leading into the mountains separating Lore from Valne to the west. Three thick walls ranging from thirty to fifty feet in height surrounded its colorful buildings, and large windmills powered manufacturing machinery imported from Muse.

The source of the wind came from an enormous stone temple located upon the city’s highest hill at its center. Taking the shape of a spiraling tower with large open windows from which a mighty gust flowed in and out like a pulsating heart, it housed one of the elemental Megaliths Asterion had once subverted.

The temple felt familiar to Simon, who eventually realized he had seen a brief memory of it flash through his mind when he consumed the Freelancer Crestone all those reigns ago. The manalith used to create it had likely been extracted from Casmene’s Wind Megalith.

A quake destroyed many villages a few years back, Simon thought as he observed the region through Frightwall’s window-eyes, spotting a great chasm tearing apart the landscape to the north. A shame we may have to ravage the region ourselves.

Simon had followed Maublanc’s strategy and marched into Valne’s interior mere days after they finished securing Rosanne. He had directed the Darkwood’s floating island to move north towards Muse, then flew towards Casmene, leaving the navy and land army behind to take the city by speed with the airship fleet alone. Simon had ordered them to set Casmene’s forest ablaze as they advanced to avoid the risk of giant manatree roots rising from beneath and to reduce the risk of ambushes.

Casmene’s fortifications would matter little since their walls didn’t reach anywhere near high enough to stop airships. Maublanc’s and Louis’ own fleets also came from the north and south to assault the city from three directions at once.

However, the League of Valne had amassed quite the sizable force to welcome them. The region was famous for its many adventurer guilds and mercenary bands, which used to be locked in constant skirmishes between city-states until the threat of Endymion forced the League to form a defensive pact. Most of them had gathered in Casmene alongside troops that evacuated Rosanne, Portempête, and Antillia, with forces gathered around trebuchets and ballistae placed on hills around the city or on its walls.

With the navy and most troops left behind to ferry the land army across the Dragonsea, the enemy significantly outnumbered the airship fleet's personal in this engagement. This would have changed had they waited longer, but Maublanc believed quickness was the order of the day. Preventing Lore's armies from reinforcing Valne was their top priority.

“Our enemies number around seventy thousand, a third of them belonging to mercenary companies and adventurers,” Maublanc informed Simon through telepathy. The Commander only had to take a look at the battlefield from his airship to assess the present forces. “There fielded roughly three hundred siege engines, including forty enchanted ballistae potentially capable of reaching our airships. I see the standards of the White Unicorn, the Phantom Company, and the Guild Century. Those threats will be our main source of concern.”

Simon had read about the last two in Shabram’s intelligence reports and the intel they could steal from the Monoceros Guild. “The Phantom Company is the largest mercenary company in Valne, and Guild Century specializes in taming monsters, correct?”

“Yes. The former has many Vassal Class users in the fifties-sixties level range, and the latter can field two dozen dracolisks.” Simon recalled those were the hybrid descendants of dragons mating with basilisks. “Those creatures are capable of flight, can carry multiple soldiers, and inherited their draconic parent’s breath attack.”

In short, they could bring down the airships. Powerful spellcasters could potentially do the same, as could the enchanted ballistae. The White Unicorn had apparently positioned their forces to protect the latter for this very reason.

Simon could potentially wipe out the entire army with a well-placed Edict, but that would require either teleporting in a monster serving as the spell’s lynchpin behind magically protected enemy lines or moving Frightwall closer to Casmene, not to mention the resulting destruction would tear the region apart for years to come. Maublanc wanted to preserve Valne’s resources, facilities, and roads to use as a springboard against Lore, and damaging the Wind Megalith would cause an uproar among the faithful. They would have to take the city the old-fashioned way.

“The White Unicorn has spent years preparing for a battle with our forces, so they will likely wield anti-demon equipment and use more advanced tactics than Valne’s common forces,” Maublanc explained. “Their troops locally outnumber us on the ground, but ours are of a better quality and airships make their numerical advantage moot. I doubt they have any way to stop Frightwall’s advance either.”

“Unless they kill me,” Simon guessed.

“Yes. They will more likely than not attempt to breach our airship perimeter and then send a boarding party to assassinate you. It is their only hope of routing us.” Maublanc dismissed the possibility. “Considering our defenses, that should be a suicide mission unless Your Majesty sorties himself and gives them an opening.”

“They might field a trump card.” Simon doubted Alphonse’s party would attack until they all had gained more levels, but the Oracle had many forces in her employ. “An elite force could do some damage.”

“We should expect the unexpected, true, but Your Majesty’s castle is nonetheless the safest place on the battlefield. There is no need for you to risk your life on the ground.”

“Very well.Let us hope they won’tdeny our overtures.” Simon could have already pressed the attack, but he had decided to give peace a chance and sent an ambassador party to hopefully negotiate the city’s surrender in return for a tributary status, near-total autonomy, and general amnesty. “A diplomatic solution would remain in our best interests.”

“Valne would collapse should Casmene surrender, and its takeover would let us threaten Lore next. They will not give it up without a fight.”

Simon didn’t think so either, but perhaps sensible heads in Valne would realize from the quick fall of their coastal cities’ that starting a war they couldn’t win hadn’t been in their best interest. A man could always dream.

The armies waited a good hour for Simon’s ultimatum to expire with no new information from his ambassadors. He hadn’t branded them to prevent the enemy from potentially attacking him through them, but their silence was an answer in itself. A shame.

“Our overtures have been met with silence, so we shall proceed with our attack. Maublanc, I shall stay on the Crimson Throne and command Frightwall to advance onto their position.” Simon would rather have been in the thick of battle to earn experience, but he wouldn’t receive much from slaughtering common grunts and he trusted the Commander. “Any sign of elven forces in play?”

“None that my scouts can see, but I will adapt my calculations accordingly should they show their hands.”

Simon thanked him for his advice and focused. His soul and mind were one with Frightwall while seated atop the Crimson Throne, allowing him to see through its windows and feel the castle’s pulse. Its rooms brimmed with ground troops ready to defend him or to occupy Casmene once they made landfall. Thalas and Antonine were among their numbers, alongside Gourmand’s troupe and other monsters. And should they somehow fail, then he still had his dear Belzemine at his side to provide a final line of defense.

Maublanc was right, there should be no way for any invader to successfully reach Simon’s sanctum, but the Oracle had taken him by surprise too many times before for Simon to lower his guard.

For now, Simon’s mind melded with his castle. The walls became his skin, the towers his arms reaching for the clouds, and the whirlwind it whipped in its wake his breath. It hovered over the burning woods as it approached ever closer to Casmene.

His three airship fleets’ vanguards advanced towards the city first. Whereas Louis’s flagship fearlessly led his own troops from the front, the more cautious Lord Ronah and Maublanc kept their own vessels in reserve to better command from the rear. Each group used a mix of their established light-based communication systems and divination magic to coordinate in real time as they rained fireballs onto the battlefield below, with Simon using branded imp messengers to relay particularly important orders.

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The Valnean forces on the ground split into small groups and spread out to avoid the fiery bombardments, while their siege engines opened fire at the incoming airships. Enchanted ballistae bolts crackling with lightning and trebuchet-thrown chunks of manaliths surged across the sky until the horizon itself caught fire. Energy projectiles, sunbeams, and other spells arose from the troops on the ground to hopefully snipe the airships advancing at a lower altitude.

The entire region had turned into a board game from Simon’s perspective. His stony gaze watched everything from the clouds above, enemy and allied units no bigger than game pieces from his point of view. He helped Maublanc move airships around like pawns by relaying certain suggestions.

“Executor, they are focusing fire on you; move to the left. Defender, protect the Devastator’s flank. Emperor’s Shadow, target that hill.”

Although Simon somewhat understood the reason behind some of Maublanc’s orders, he lacked the Commander’s insight and ability to think so many steps ahead. He had airship formations split and reformed to avoid enemy fire, exploit weak points as soon as they appeared, and ordered bombardments striking exactly where enemy troops moved with supernatural timing.

Swords and spears rained down from Louis’ command vessel and onto a hill, annihilating the ballistae posted there and opening a breach in the southern line of defenses. The airships there flew past the ring of ballistae and moved closer to the city’s first walled ring. They hadn’t even lost a single vessel yet.

Everything was proceeding well, until Simon detected a surge of magic coming from Casmene’s temple. The building became like a lighthouse to his Dark Visionary senses and exuded more divine power than it ever did under Asterion’s control.

“Our enemies are doing something with the Wind Megalith,” Simon warned Maublanc. “I’m not sure what. Some kind of ritual, likely to blow away our airships.”

The Commander immediately adjusted their strategy. “Louis’ forces are best positioned to storm it first, Your Majesty. Have the Defender and the Devastator escort his flagship for an all-out push on the temple. This will likely cost us the Defender but guarantee Louis makes landfall.”

The Commander had no qualms about sacrificing a handful of troops to ensure victory. This slightly bothered Simon, since those soldiers were loyal children of Endymion, but he trusted Maublanc’s tactical insight to reduce losses to a minimum. Simon relayed his suggestions to the southern fleet, only to be interrupted.

“Elven presence confirmed on the eastern side among the Phantom Company contingent!” one messenger imp telepathically informed Simon. “I repeat, elven presence confirmed!”

Here they come. Simon focused his attention on that side of the war theater, and spotted two dozen monsters taking off from that area. The monsters resembled six-legged black dragons whose size reached between that of their true draconian cousins and smaller wyverns. Their backs carried two to three riders each. They attacked the airships with breaths of fire and poison. Dracolisks.

Most importantly, a handful of them advanced under the cover of invisibility. Simon’s Clear Eyes spell carried through Frightwall’s vision and allowed him to see their translucent outlines. He guessed they planned to board Frightwall while the others occupied the airships, as Maublanc predicted earlier.

“The enemy is attempting to slip past your blockade with invisible flyers, Lord Ronah!” Simon informed his air commander. “Take them dow—”

Thorns wrapped around his stone foot, and Frightwall stumbled.

Or at least, it felt that way to Simon as he remained merged with his castle. Massive vines thicker than castle walls surged from the forest’s ashes beneath his flying fortress and ensnared its base. Thorns big enough to pierce his walls tightened around it and caused the entire castle to shake.

Simon had expected such an attack, but Casmene was miles away from the nearest manatree. He would have expected the roots to be weaker and slimmer, but these had been magically strengthened until they managed to slow his castle’s advance like an anchor and tip it slightly sideways.

“A Druid’s work,” Maublanc assessed, his tone grim. Simon recognized the Class as a Vassal of the Summoner. “Level seventy-seven according to my estimations.”

Seventy-seven? Valne had no one with that level, which could only mean—

“The elves.” Simon had finally encountered some of those mighty archmages who had stopped the Endymian army’s advance into Valne in a previous reign. “Find the largest concentration of manaliths on the battlefield and blast it to bits!”

“Your Majesty, five hostiles have slipped past the blockade!” Commander Ronah Andras warned him. “They have an eidolon!”

An alarmed Simon focused his attention on that area. True to his general’s words, a handful of dracolisks had managed to get past the airships’ defensive lines after successfully taking down two of them and opening a small hole in the defenses. At the helm was a creature that superficially resembled a humanoid dragon, except that its scales were a red-and-silver knightly armor laced with gold and its wings made of crimson crystal. It blasted an airship out of the sky with a breath of light while deflecting projectiles with the mighty, double-bladed spear in its hands.

Simon’s Dark Visionary senses immediately analyzed the creature.

Pendragon, Bravery’s Wings

Level 59 (true level 73) Eidolon of Chivalry, Dragonslaying, and Knights.

Dragon/Divine

The enemy had another Summoner Vassal in its ranks, albeit not one capable of summoning the beast at full power. Simon hadn’t heard of this eidolon, but he guessed it came from Lore considering its purview. Adding another combat capable champion to his stable of summons appealed to him, only for a short System message to dash his hopes.

You cannot challenge a channeled eidolon to an Ordeal.

That would be a battle for another time.

The eidolon led the dracolisk group as it ascended towards Frightwall’s top in the hopes of infiltrating it. No doubt the riders were all high-level assassins or adventurers desperate to throw away their lives to save the city.

Realizing he had to act now, Simon turned his attention to other loyal servants in his castle. “Unleash the goats!”

Telepathic bleats answered his order, and a small horde of mephisgoats flew out of Frightwall alongside gargoyles in vast numbers. They emerged from its base and top alike to intercept their enemies with fire spells and bidents. What they lacked in individual power, they made up in numbers and zeal.

Simon’s servants set the roots holding Frightwall ablaze, only for sleeker vines to erupt from their thorns and catch them in the air. Simon immediately sensed a mental attack traveling through their Devil Brands and straight at him. The sheer power behind it matched that of a Tier VIII spell, enough to shatter his psyche to pieces and leave him braindead.

A pity it triggered his snare.

Soul & Mind damage redirected back to sender by Amulet of Dark Mirroring!

The spiritual blast traveled right back to the Druid, cutting off the impromptu connection and causing the vines to wriggle and recoil in pain. It had taken a few reigns, but Simon had finally covered that particular Devil Brand weakness.

He couldn’t tell whether the elven Druid had survived or not, but they at least lost enough control for the thorny root knot holding Frightwall’s base to come loose. The flying tower resumed its course towards the city, its shadow looming over its walls.

However, his troops had much less luck stopping the dracolisk attackers. Although they managed to swarm two dracolisks with sheer numbers, Pendragon killed his way past them and cleared the path for three parties. Two of them crashed through a wall into the castle with the eidolon, while the third crashed into the courtyard due to their ride taking a wound to its left wing from archers on the roof.

A welcoming committee awaited them.

“Well, well, would you look at that?” Gourmand cackled as he waltzed into the courtyard with Grimm, Gregory, and a handful of demonic recruits. “The good Gourmand has found volunteers!”

Simon immediately assisted them by targeting the intruders with his castle’s Phantasmal Curse and anti-Prayer debuffs, leaving the fiendish troupe to welcome that particular group. As for the other, they ended up clashing with demotaur guards in the guest wing. Besides the eidolon viciously impaling his faithful bulls, that team included two dracolisks, a Ninja dividing himself into multiple copies of himself, a goblin spellcaster, some male scalefolk Dancer Vassal empowering them with buffs, and what appeared to be a bunny shifter in a trance. Likely Pendragon’s summoner.

“Prince Thalas, a group of intruders is progressing north of your position,” Simon relayed through a messenger imp, before giving a rundown of the forces present. “None of them look to be above level sixty, but they have an eidolon with them and are well-coordinated. Proceed with caution.”

He could see the sullen scowl on Thalas’s face as he and Antonine rushed with armored guards towards the guest wing, but he didn’t argue. Their earlier ‘discussion’ seemed to have taught him some humility.

Trusting his brother to take care of the intruders before they came anywhere near the throne room, Simon turned his senses back onto the battlefield outside. He was starting to realize a critical flaw in his Perk; namely, that while he could observe any place inside or outside of Frightwall, he could only focus his gaze on one place at one time.

Due to the enemy clearly gathering its elite forces on the eastern flank to slow down Frightwall, Louis’ vessel had continued to pierce through the southern side and caused a complete rout on that front. Maublanc’s northern fleet had already reached the city’s ramparts. Casmene’s fall was more or less inevitable.

But it appeared its locals would make the empire pay dearly for its victory.

A pulse of mana of divine proportions erupted from the Wind Megalith temple, holy light briefly blinding Simon’s Dark Visionary senses. The very forces of the elements bent to the sacred stone’s will, and that of the spellcasters directing its power from inside Casmene’s walls to summon mighty gusts that battered Lord Ronah’s airships and blew away Simon’s flying demons. They quickly grew in intensity, dragging away clouds from their heavenly repose and flinging them at Frightwall.

Simon’s castle shook from the violent winds, the tower tilting slightly. They swirled into a whirlwind that dwarfed the one Asterion once summoned against his Wicked God form. Violent gusts shattered windows and toppled some fortifications. Valnean troops on the ground too slow to escape were dragged screaming into the sky to die a cruel death.

Tier IX? Simon wondered in awe of this display of magic, until he realized he was mistaken as his fortress shook. Tier X!

A hurricane arose out of nowhere to swallow Frightwall.