Became the Patron of Villains

Penia Crysinne lived in the flavor of her own importance. Even if she acted like a hooligan and let her temper fly whenever she pleased, that didn’t mean she was stupid or dull.

In a word, she was keenly self-aware.

Penia had a solid grasp of her own situation, so the reformative letter wasn’t much of an issue for her.

That letter was a source of fear only for nobles involved in political life. If you weren’t tangled up in political ideologies, there was no reason to be afraid—

Unless you’d committed something outrageous, like heretical human experimentation.

Moreover, the Holy Kingdom also made an effort not to antagonize people from the Blue Tower too easily.

Fighting each other wouldn’t benefit either side much.

So even when Penia heard that Cardinal Yutia had come looking for her because of the reformative letter, she stayed nonchalant. When she first heard about the Cardinal’s visit, she had even hoped there’d be a small slip of the tongue—something to relieve a bit of the stress from the workload Marquis Palatio had piled on her.

So she looked at Yutia with eyes full of venom, at least until Yutia stepped into the room.

But.

The moment Yutia entered—wearing a casual expression and a deep smile—Penia couldn’t help but straighten her posture.

In a fleeting instant, she saw something behind Yutia.

She couldn’t see it clearly.

But one thing was clear. It was the same type as that.

The thing Marquis Palatio wore on his back.

Something people must never recognize.

Recognizing it meant you could gain everything in the world, but it also meant you’d have to sacrifice your life.

It was a poisoned chalice.

Without realizing it, Penia broke into a cold sweat.

That being there meant the person before her wasn’t merely a Cardinal, but something entirely different.

Thus—

What? How? Why is there something like that behind the Cardinal of the Holy Kingdom? Why?

Overwhelmed by fear and confusion, Penia blurted out, “Sorry.”

“What?”

Her sudden apology made Yutia stare blankly at her.

“As the Vice-tower master of the Blue Tower, I thought it might be difficult to converse without revealing this briefly... I didn’t realize it would scare you this much.”

“Sob—”

She hiccupped.

“You don’t have to react like that. I’m not here to harm the Vice-tower master. Just—”

Despite Penia’s state, Yutia still wore a calm smile.

Then she slowly raised her index finger to her lips and whispered, “You know, this is a sensitive matter.”

“Yes, of course. I’m tight-lipped. Yes, very much so...!”

Penia nodded like she’d gone mad.

“That’s very good.”

“Yes, yes—”

Unlike when she was grilling Felin, Penia—servile smile plastered on her face—cautiously opened her mouth.

“But may I know the reason for your visit...?”

“Ah. I just heard some interesting rumors.”

“Interesting rumors, you say?”

At Penia’s question, Yutia laughed.

“Yes. Some interesting rumors about our Vice-tower master and Marquis Palatio.”

“Ru—rumors—?”

At that, Penia immediately realized what Yutia meant. At the same time, her survival instincts—already screaming—somehow dredged up a crumpled memory tucked away in a corner of her mind.

Specifically: the rumor that Marquis Palatio and Cardinal Yutia were closely linked.

Realizing this, Penia studied Yutia’s expression.

She was smiling—yet not really.

Her mouth might have been curved into a smile, but her eyes were cold.

Penia fought desperately for her life.

“That—that’s absolutely not true!”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, yes, absolutely! That’s just a rumor! Absolutely! Definitely...!”

“Yet you hadn’t denied those circulating rumors before—”

“No, no! I’ve denied them all now! Recently! There won’t be any such rumors in the future, really!”

Penia explained earnestly.

Whether her explanation worked or not, the shadow in Yutia’s serene smile seemed to lift little by little.

Seeing that, Penia—realizing her lifeline was finally opening—grew even more determined and kept talking.

However—

“I, I don’t really have that kind of taste for the Marquis. Right? He always has that expressionless face, you know? I don’t really like people like that.”

“What?”

Maybe that was too much.

“...What?”

“What did you just say?”

Yutia’s face, pleasant a moment ago, went cold.

Penia belatedly rolled her eyes and opened her mouth.

“Ah, that, um—”

Penia began sweating profusely.

Why did she have to suffer this much because of Marquis Palatio?

A sudden wave of sadness surged up, almost bringing tears to her eyes.

But in the next moment—

“Vice-tower master.”

“...!?”

Penia jolted.

Just moments ago, Yutia had been sitting across from her. Now she was beside her, gently placing a hand on Penia’s shoulder.

Penia froze, wanting to scream, but instead she only managed to keep her mouth shut as hiccups escaped her.

“It’s good to show your innocence, but that statement was a bit over the line, wasn’t it?”

“Sob—”

“Answer.”

“Yes... yes...! I-I’m sorry...!”

“I’ll let it pass this time. But next time... you know?”

Thud-

“I’m a bit short on patience.”

Soon, Yutia whispered in her ear in a chilling voice.

“Alright, Vice-tower master. Let’s get along well from now on.”

“....Yes, understood. Well, Marquis Palatio does have his... his admirable aspects, ha ha.”

Penia answered with an awkward laugh as Yutia stood up.

“But does that mean you wanted a... a certain kind of relationship with Marquis Palatio?”

Yutia’s face started to harden again, and Penia hurriedly piled on more words.

“Ah, no, it’s not like that. The Marquis is handsome, but that’s not really my type...”

“So the Marquis is not your type?”

—

“No, it’s not that—he definitely is a handsome man!”

“He’s not your type, but you’re interested because he’s handsome?”

“No, that’s not it.”

Penia felt as if she’d been trapped in an endless cycle, filled with indescribable anger and injustice.

This crazy woman—what on earth does she want me to say?!

But Penia was painfully self-aware, and she could feel in her bones that she couldn’t oppose the being in front of her.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I’m sorry for being alive...”

She could only bow her head.

It was a peaceful afternoon.

*****

Three days later.

[Ha ha ha- It’s my victory!]

“You crazy—”

[Meow-?]

As Alon crossed the desert, he watched Evan, Basiliora, and Blackie gambling excitedly from the driver’s seat.

What on earth are they playing?

He rummaged through his belongings and pulled out the Scorpion gauntlet he had taken.

Like the artifact he had given to Yutia, it was powerless and glowing a pale white.

...Apostle.

Apostle.

It was the first time Alon had ever seen an Apostle.

They didn’t even appear in the game.

But one thing was certain: they were powerful.

If Seolrang hadn’t awakened, it would’ve been us who suffered.

Alon felt an even stronger need to dig into magic research.

Not just because of the grotesque cleanup—soon, he would have to prepare for the Apostles that would start appearing.

Judging coldly, if all Apostles possessed that level of power, it would be virtually impossible for Alon to stop them.

And if he couldn’t stop them, the Apostles would eventually create Sin.

Fortunately, Alon had people to help him with his research, and he had already come up with ways to enhance his magical abilities.

His only concern was the “information” about the Apostle.

...There’s nothing known about them.

Unfortunately, no one knew anything about the Apostle.

Neither asking Rine nor the Dragonkin he’d visited during his stay in the Colony produced any different answers.

The most he’d learned was that someone who had survived the war might know something.

Thus—

...Kylrus.

Alon recalled that name again.

To the golden dragon, he was a mage.

But now, he’d appeared as a goblin Outer God.

Once I get that item by following Eliban, I should go meet him right away.

Apart from learning how to use the Dragon of Darkness, there was another reason he needed to meet Kylrus.

As he organized his thoughts—

“Marquis.”

Alon turned at Evan’s voice.

“What is it?”

“I realized I hadn’t given this to you.”

Evan pulled a glass bottle from inside his clothes and handed it over.

“What’s this?”

Alon asked as he accepted the bottle filled with black powder.

“From what I hear, it’s the powder of the Apostle’s corpse?”

“What?”

“Was it Seolrang’s secretary...? That person gave it to me.”

After hearing that explanation, Alon stared at the finely divided(?) powder of the Apostle with a bewildered look.

“Why would I want this?”

*****

In the southernmost part of the continent, in a dense forest touched by elven hands instead of human ones, lay a sacred land.

Deep within what the elves called Greynifra stood the elven kingdom of Fildagreen.

A dreamlike country built around the World Tree.

And in the massive palace directly beneath the World Tree, at the center of that kingdom—

“You found Raguerine’s blessing?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

A man—or rather, Perion, having dropped his human disguise—bowed and reported to the queen.

“I didn’t think it would be possible, but you’ve done something truly great, Perion.”

The elf queen, Magrina, praised him, her voice mixed with surprise and pride. Bright platinum-blond hair flowed down to her waist.

Perion bowed even deeper and continued.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. However, there’s something I must tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Raguerine’s blessing—it wasn’t me who found it.”

“It wasn’t you, Perion?”

“Yes. It’s that—”

Carefully nodding, Perion began recounting the events that had occurred in Lartania. After Magrina listened for a while—

“So this Marquis Palatio not only recognized your identity instantly, but also told you where Raguerine’s blessing was... is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes.”

“The room with Raguerine’s blessing was made like Fagade’s hideout—”

“No one else had entered there besides me. And as I mentioned, there was a message written inside.”

“‘I hope it reaches my sibling well,’ wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Magrina stared at the blessing Perion had brought with an incredulous expression, then fell silent for a moment.

Her voice began to tremble slightly.

“So, Perion, are you suggesting that this Marquis Palatio might be the ancient elf—my older brother?”

“I can’t be certain, of course. But considering he easily discerned that I was part of Fagade and led me to Raguerine’s blessing, it must have been him.”

Magrina fell silent again.

Because Perion’s reasoning made sense.

However, she couldn’t judge the Marquis based on this alone.

As Magrina knew, the ancient elf—her brother—had died hundreds of years ago.

She knew well that the dead did not return.

In the continuing silence—

“I will quietly check and come back.”

Magrina turned toward the voice.

An elf wrapped in a mage’s robe stood there—Philde, Magrina’s personal mage.

“Is it possible to confirm that?”

“There isn’t a lack of methods. As ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ you know, my eyes are a bit special.”

“Ah.”

Magrina let out an inadvertent gasp.

Philde possessed Spirit Eyes, able to see souls.

If so, confirming the identity of Marquis Palatio would be easy.

“Then please proceed.”

“I understand. I’ll go with Perion.”

With their task decided, Philde and Perion promptly took their leave and departed.

Watching the two elves’ backs—

“If my brother really is alive...”

Magrina clenched her fist.

She knew it was logically absurd.

Yet in her eyes, an unmistakable flicker of subtle hope appeared.