Board & Conquest 94: La Casa de Valentine

Things fall into piece for the Royal Vault Heist.

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Wepwawet knew it. He knew there was something fishy about the Second Incursion.

Its timing lining up with the plan for Beelzebub’s agents to open up the Royal Vault was simply too big to be a coincidence. The Titans had to have been coordinating on the matter. Wepwawet didn’t doubt for a second that Tiamat intended to win her Incursion, but her assault also served a secondary purpose of distracting other gods at a critical juncture. 

Come to think of it, was the plot in Valentine the only one afoot? Or were the Titans setting the stage for multiple operations on the day of the Second Incursion, so at least one of them yielded results? Wepwawet checked his Quest folder until he found one that had been bothering him for a while now. 

The Ring of Fire: You have been chosen to protect Lavaland by its own people. Reclaim all of its Altars and expel all invaders from the country. Wepwawet had done the former, but the Quest hadn’t been completed yet. If these invaders do not refer to my classmates
 then it likely means the lunarians are active in Lavaland. 

Could they have a nest hidden somewhere in magmorian territory, like the Sacred Source in Promesse? He would ask Alexandrite to run a survey of the country in order to locate such potential hideouts. While his anti-lunarian counterintelligence service was only in its infancy and needed more time to develop, Bernard had confirmed that lunarian parasites should be unable to take magmorians over due to their lack of a conventional nervous system
 though the country’s sizable kobold population had no such protection.  

Funny how things work out. Gaspar had not so subtly hinted that the lunarians had a hand in creating both humans and werelings, but the magmorians’ evolution was a quirk of nature; the result of a blackstone meteorite exposing chunks of lava to psychic radiation until they developed consciousness. Just how deep does that rabbit hole go?

Miss Athena was right, the enemy had a dangerous strategist at the helm; the kind that knows how to apply pressure on multiple points and kept their cards close to the chest. They had managed to infiltrate Valentine so insidiously that its three greatest spellcasters had unknowingly fallen under the influence of a foreign entity bent on destroying them, and even Wepwawet’s territory wasn’t safe from danger. 

Which left Wepwawet in the unenviable position of deciding what to do with this information. He simply couldn’t allow Beelzebub and his agents to get their claws on the Archdemon. That would be the worst-case scenario.

I could tell Epona to reinforce security around the Royal Vault
 but even if she believes me, which is both unlikely and would alert her to the fact I have spies in her territory, it wouldn’t stop her from trying to claim the Archdemon’s power for herself. If anything, it would make my own job to destroy it much harder. Wepwawet gave the operation a lot more thought. On the other hand, I could kill two birds with one stone; spring a trap on the lunarians the moment they open the Vault and neutralize the Archdemon inside. 

While risky, this approach would be the most beneficial for everyone involved. It would allow Wepwawet to continue operating in Valentine relatively undetected and thus keep an eye on Epona, while ruining the plots of all the factions vying for the Royal Vault. It might even lead to an early ceasefire of the Zoramesh-Valentine War by removing the main reason why their deities fought so fiercely. While Wepwawet doubted it would result in immediate peace, considering the two goddesses’ hostilities, it would certainly make everyone’s lives easier. 

The timing would be short, but Wepwawet had a few assets in place to even the playing field—the Free Brotherhood, his Champions, and, most importantly, the divisions among Beelzebub’s pawns. Gaspar in particular might be convinced to turn his coat if offered evidence that the lunarians intended to double-cross him, though he would have to be approached very carefully. 

For now, Wepwawet ordered Filou to keep an eye on Gaspar and his colleagues before turning his telepathic attention to other Champions. “Rapoleon, do you think you could tunnel your way to the Royal Vault before the Incursion’s start?”

“It’ll be tough, but doable," his Commander replied. He and his fellow wererat sappers were already hard at work tunneling their way underground along a path of giant roots set by the Lady of Broceliande. “We won’t be able to break into the Vault directly, though; only reach its entrance beneath the cathedral.”

“I understand.” If neither Epona nor Beelzebub managed to force their way in so far, then Wepwawet didn’t expect his Champions to succeed either. Opening a secret pathway that would allow them to get the drop on the Three Sages would be enough. “Keep me informed of your progress.”

Leaving Rapoleon to his own devices, Wepwawet turned his attention to Sagesse. His ambassador was currently speaking with the Lady of Broceliande and the Hood—mostly the latter—on the question of supplies.  

“–so long as we stick to nightflights and small parties, we should be able to keep an air corridor open,” Sagesse informed the masters of the forest. “Most pegasi patrols are occupied holding back the Zoramesh invasion.”

“Your help is appreciated, though we must stick to small sabotage operations and raids,” the Hood replied. “Our strength is that we are too difficult for the government to root out without significant effort, and not being threatening enough to warrant it.”

“I’m afraid I will require more on their part,” Wepwawet told Sagesse through telepathy. Though his ambassador was experienced enough to show no hint she had heard the communication, the Lady of Broceliande’s head immediately turned in her direction. Her power was truly near-divine to sense a god’s presence. “Sagesse, I bring news from Filou. Would you kindly share it with our allies?”

“Yes, of course, Your Divine Majesty.”

Wepwawet proceeded to recount everything Filou had learned to the Free Brotherhood and their Lady through Sagesse, from the sages’ collaboration with the enemy to their plan to break into the Vault in less than two days’ time. The Lady’s scowl deepened with each word, while the Hood hardly seemed surprised.

“I told you those three were traitors,” the Hood said sternly. “Every last one of them.”

“I would not be so judgmental, my friend,” the Lady replied. “It may be that the enemy has subverted their minds and planted dark seeds of treachery in their subconscious.”  

“Seeds that wouldn’t have grown without the fertile soil in which to plant them.” The Hood shrugged their shoulders, their body radiating disdain. “They are greedy fools, every last one of them. Their plan to control the Archdemon is madness. At best, they will find a corpse, and at worst, they will unleash a calamity upon the region.”

“If I understand His Divine Majesty’s words correctly, then those three already attempted to create an archdemon of their own.” Sagesse looked at the Hood, having put two and two together. “They said he had escaped and turned into a highway robber.”

The Hood crossed their arms. “You will not like what this cowl hides
 and neither do I.”

“It is not one’s appearance that matters, my friend, but the beauty inside,” the Lady said softly. “The light you carry within your heart brings me much joy. You should not hide it from the world.”

“Milady is too kind by half.” The Hood turned away to avoid her gaze. “But let us focus on the problem at hand. Who’s this ‘spare heir’ the three fools talked about?”

“Filou could not find that information,” Wepwawet replied through Sagesse. Melchior had teleported away to fetch their ‘spare heir’ soon after their meeting ended, and their spy had no way of tracking him down. “Identifying him in time will prove difficult, if not impossible.”

“Then we must either neutralize the three fools before they can act, or strike at them when they least expect it.” The Hood pondered both possibilities for a moment. “It would be child’s play for the horse goddess to call in troops from the capital so long as she holds the Saguenay Altar. If the three fools do indeed intend to wake Archon up in two days, then they will either seek to destroy it before they open the Vault, or have the Archdemon do it for them.”

“Archon will easily take over Saguenay should he escape,” the Lady said. “I have witnessed him at his peak. His strength is immense, and he would be able to raise an army in an instant.”

“An army?” Sagesse inquired. “Would he be able to summon other demons to his location?”

“In a fashion,” the Lady replied with a grim scowl. “Demons transform humans into more of their kind through direct blood transfusion, but Archon’s blood is so potent that it can sidestep that. His boiling blood turns to fumes once shed and fills the air with his corruption, infecting anyone inhaling his putrid miasma.” 

A horrible possibility crossed Wepwawet’s mind: the picture of a great demon rising from the depths beneath Saguenay’s cathedral and blanketing its streets in miasma, mutating its population into monsters. 

That was Beelzebub’s plan: to unleash the Archdemon in the heart of Valentine’s territory, opening up a second front that would cause the country to fall into chaos and likely under lunarian influence. 

“I think I could protect people in the vicinity from this effect
 to a point,” the Hood warned. “Surely centuries sealed beneath the earth have diminished Archon’s strength. He should be vulnerable for a brief moment in time.”

“Perhaps,” the Lady replied with skepticism. “But the kings of Valentine had the Questing Beast of Glatisant on their side when they defeated Archon. Its absence will surely cost us.”

“The Questing Beast of Glatisant?” Sagesse inquired, while Wepwawet found the name familiar. 

“A fair and noble beast bound to serve the royal family of Valentine in its hour of need,” the Hood replied. “I thought it was only a legend.”

“Yes, it is
 it is indeed a fair and noble beast, of great power and
 great beauty, I suppose
” The Lady seemed flustered and uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Yet she is now asleep, and only a true sovereign of Valentine wearing the royal crown may wake her up; both of which we lack.”

“Actually, we do have them,” Wepwawet said. 

“We do?” Sagesse asked, not knowing Victoire’s parentage. “Unless
 of course, the Glarmes kept the artifact
”

“Yes.” He now recalled where he had heard of the Beast of Glatisant before: on the description of the royal crown which they obtained in Promesse’s vault. “Unfortunately, the potential heir can’t unlock the crown’s powers. We would need a coronation at the Saguenay cathedral to do so.”

Sagesse transferred the message to the Lady, who beamed with joy. “We will not need the cathedral to crown your heir.” 

“How so?” Wepwawet inquired through his ambassador. 

“How? Because once upon a time
 I crowned the first king myself.” The Lady smiled ear to ear. “Where do you think the sovereigns were crowned before they raised their cathedral?”

“Truly?” This took Sagesse aback. “I’ve never heard of this.”

“The Kings of Valentine abolished the tradition early in their reign when they faced conflict with Timberan over territorial disputes,” the Hood explained. “They didn’t want to imply that their line derived its legitimacy from a dryad.”

“The scions of Valentine had long tired of my advice and faith for others that served them better, and rewrote history accordingly,” the Lady lamented. “Yet the crown should remember how I once seated it atop her first owner’s head.”

What a delightful surprise. The Crown of Valentine was by itself a powerful artifact currently gathering dust in storage; unlocking its power would provide a great boon to Verglane’s military might, even should the operation to handle the Archdemon fail. 

And if the Lady was willing to cooperate, then Wepwawet could think of one Miracle that could bolster her strength to untold heights; perhaps enough to challenge the Archdemon directly. 

“I may have a plan
 but first, have you chosen which path you want to progress further on, Sagesse?” Like Goreville before her, Sagesse had gained enough experience from the Titan Incursion to Rank-Up. Wepwawet had given her some time to think through the possibilities, but the shorter timing didn’t play in their favor. “I’m afraid I must request an answer now, since it may impact our strategy.”

“I have given it thought, Your Divine Majesty,” Sagesse replied, the Hood snorting at the last part. “As much as flying at night made me miss my wereowl night vision, I am more and more convinced that specialization trumps versatility when it comes to us Champions, especially with each new power we obtain. I would thus like to pursue the Numerologist path, so that my spells may synergize better.”

“A wise choice,” Wepwawet replied upon gracing her with his light and a Rank-Up. “Your wish I thus fulfill.”  

Sagesse, Wereowl Ambassador, has Ranked Up in Numerologist! +2 STR, +2 AGI, +2 VIT, +3 SKI, +2 MAG, +2 INT, +4 CHA, +5 LCK! She has earned the Level 4 Gravity Spell!

Spell: Level 4 Gravity: Tier IV Arithmancy. Inflicts [Physical] damage on all foes with a Rank with a multiple of 4 within a ten-meter radius, ignoring evasion; targets suffer from the [Anchor] ailment and cannot fly.

“I can teach you how to control gravity at the cost of some skill in calculation,” Wepwawet suggested. Most of Sagesse’s Perks provided her with spells that targeted a wide range of Ranks and expanded the reach of her abilities. Her Improved Calculation perk, by contrast, simply rounded up number variables affecting her rather than down. It was useful for certain, but marginally so. 

“I still do not quite understand the logic behind these trades, although I suppose it does make sense,” Sagesse replied once her god empowered her. “This new spell should prove useful. What plan do you have in mind, Your Divine Majesty?”

“Let’s just say
” Wepwawet chuckled to himself upon revealing his idea. “It’s all a question of growth.”

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It felt so strange to Victoire to fly over Valentine. 

The Glarmes had spent most of their time preparing her for this moment, training and drilling her on retaking their lost homeland in the fallen royal family’s name. She had been taught about the Republic’s geography, its cities, its weaknesses, and people
 everything needed to militarily overtake it the day the order grew strong enough to do so. Victoire had abandoned those mad dreams long before she left the organization, and never entertained the possibility of returning to her ancestors’ lost homeland.

Such an irony that she now found herself flying over its lands on dragonback on her way to save it. 

She had been handling negotiations with Stalheim on a new trade partnership when her god ordered her to join the latest wereowl flight to Valentine
 and to bring the royal crown with her. She recalled audibly sighing at the order before excusing herself. 

“I’m sorry,” Lord Wepwawet said in her mind, having sensed her annoyance. “I truly wish it didn’t come to this, but the opportunity is too good to pass up.”

“Please just tell me I won’t have to wear finery,” Victoire replied morosely. Becoming crowned as heir to the throne of Valentine bothered her, even if it was an empty title. Being a princess alone brought her too much reptilian attention already; she didn’t dare imagine how feral the dragons in her vicinity might become once she started wearing a crown. “This is going to cause issues down the line. You know that, right?”

“I do. Crowning you will be tantamount to declaring that we—a foreign god and the last heir of a deposed monarchy—stake a claim over Valentine’s territory. Epona and her Parliament will have to respond
 But at this point, we’re already de facto at war with Valentine, so we lose little, and staking a claim means we can offer to retract it later in exchange for concessions.”

“You want to create a problem so we can sell the cure,” Victoire figured out with a sigh. “Can I abdicate as soon as we don’t need the crown anymore?”

“Maybe. You could renounce all claims over Valentine as part of a peace treaty with Epona once she comes around.” Lord Wepwawet marked a short pause, as if hesitating to say something stupid. “Although–”

“If you say ‘Queen Victoire’ sounds good in your head, I’m cutting off the conversation right now.”

“How did you–” Lord Wepwawet sighed. “You know me too well.”

“Live with it.” Victoire glanced down at the land below. Most of Valentine’s countryside consisted of endless stretches of farmland and forests, with paved roads linking the larger settlements together. “At least I can finally bring Filou home. Are you sure the mages haven’t found out about him yet?”

“Yes, for the thousandth time. I swear he’s safe for now.”

“Good.” Victoire trusted her god, but she couldn’t help but feel concerned for her squire’s safety, especially with three archmages plotting a devastating folly in his vicinity. “Something bothers me though
 you said Beelzebub promised those three that he could turn them into Commanders?”

“He lied. No gods can promote a Champion into a Commander. What separates a normal Champion from a Commander is their willpower, their strength of character, their indomitable spirit
 something that gods can help inspire, but never control.”

Victoire shuddered. “Is that why Insupportable is a Commander, but not Soumis? Because the former has a bigger sense of self-esteem than the latter?”

“As much as it shames me to admit it, it does contribute,” Lord Wepwawet audibly groaned on his side of the telepathic line. “The frontier between courage and arrogance is often thin, and in Insupportable’s case, his unbearable ego does give him an unshakable resolve.”

“I figured as much,” Victoire replied. There would be no point in not promoting all of his Champions to Commanders if it were so easy. “But why would it interest the mages? What would they gain out of it?”

Her god answered with a long silence.

“Is it something we mortals aren’t allowed to know?” Victoire sighed. “Forget I asked.”

“No. I think you, of all people, deserve to know the most
 and the cat will probably be out of the bag soon anyway.” Lord Wepwawet’s voice grew deeper, more serious. “The truth is, there is a very good reason why only Commanders can claim Altars for their deity. They do more than interface with the world’s mana; they subconsciously shape it the way we gods do.”

Victoire frowned. She knew she could see mana and that touching the leylines of it let her raise Altars, but she never thought she could actually control it. “I’ve never noticed.”

“Because you’re only subconsciously doing it on a very small scale, but yes, you do wield the potential.” Lord Wepwawet’s words became more and more solemn. “To be blunt, Commanders are Champions whose strong will endowed them with a spark of the divine. A seed that may one day grow into godhood.”

It took Victoire a moment to digest the monumental implications behind that statement. “I could
 I could become a god like you?”

“You would have to climb several intermediate steps to reach my level over a very, very long time
 but yes, it is possible.” Lord Wepwawet’s chuckle echoed in her mind. “You should start growing comfortable wearing that crown, Victoire. You might end up wearing a much heavier kind one day.” 

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