Became the Patron of Villains

Alon studied the statue of “Kalannon, the Bearer of Lightning” in Siyan’s hand.

“It does seem somewhat similar, I suppose.”

Of course, the statue didn’t have a face, so it was impossible to judge any resemblance in the features.

Still, the reason Alon thought so was simple: no matter how he looked at it, the clothes Kalannon wore closely resembled his own.

“Well, the coat I’m wearing now is the one the Red Tower Master gave me, so it’s different. But if we’re talking about the one I wore before... there do seem to be a lot of similarities.”

After a brief pause, Alon replied with a peculiar look on his face.

“...I suppose the clothing is somewhat similar.”

“The clothing, huh... Hmm.”

Siyan stared at Alon for a moment, then shrugged and set the statue on the desk.

“Well, it’s obvious that you—a marquis of the Asteria Kingdom—couldn’t possibly be ‘Kalannon, the Bearer of Lightning,’ newly revered in the Luxible Principality. Just take it as a lighthearted joke and let it go.”

“Understood.”

Satisfied with Alon’s straightforward answer, Siyan nodded a couple of times and changed the subject.

“I’ve heard you’ve been caught up in quite a few things lately. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

“Understood.”

Why was she asking?

Puzzled, Alon reported dutifully.

And then...

“...The Chosen, huh.”

“Yes.”

After recounting everything, Alon asked in return, “May I ask something as well?”

“Go ahead.”

“Did you summon me because something came to mind?”

The last time they’d met in this office, Siyan had certainly said:

“If something else comes to mind, I’ll summon you.”

“No, not particularly.”

“...I see.”

“This time, I simply called you because I wanted to see you. It’s been a while, after all.”

An unexpected answer.

“I see.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all.”

Siyan stared at Alon as he dismissed it so indifferently.

“Fufu~”

“...?”

She let out a soft chuckle.

Alon’s face turned openly puzzled.

“Just kidding.”

“...Pardon?”

“I’m saying I didn’t summon you without a reason.”

“Ah.”

“Your reaction is a bit underwhelming, though.”

“My apologies.”

As Alon bowed his head, he briefly wondered if Siyan had always been like this.

“You don’t need to apologize for that.”

Enjoying her little tease, Siyan smiled, rested her chin on her hand, and continued.

“As you guessed, something else did come to mind.”

“What is it?”

“In the inherited memories, it’s said you visited the World Tree of Greynifra and obtained something you needed there.”

“The World Tree of Greynifra...?”

At Alon’s question, Siyan nodded.

“Yes. Do you not know it? The land of the elves in the south is called Greynifra.”

“Ah.”

Only then did Alon understand why “Greynifra” felt unfamiliar.

“...The land of the elves, huh. It makes sense I wouldn’t know much about it.”

Of course, it wasn’t the first time he’d heard the name.

But Greynifra felt unfamiliar because the land of the elves was part of the DLC area in the game Psychedelia.

He hadn’t bought the DLC.

In other words, while he’d heard the name “Greynifra” now and then in-game, he’d never actually visited the land of the other races.

On top of that, relations between the Allied Kingdom and the other races weren’t good—though not as openly hostile as the Empire’s. As a result, it was rarely mentioned at all.

That left Alon with even less information.

“Something necessary is there... huh.”

As Alon pondered quietly, Siyan added, “Of course, there’s no need to go immediately.”

“Is that so?”

“To be more precise, you don’t have to go at all. It’s ironic for me to bring it up, but that place isn’t exactly friendly to humans.”

“...Yes. I’ve heard as much.”

Recalling the tense relationship between the Allied Kingdom and the other races, Alon nodded. Siyan shrugged and leaned back in her chair.

“So think it over at your leisure. But if you do end up going, I’d appreciate a report.”

“Understood.”

After a bit of small talk, Alon left the office.

Once he’d disappeared completely, Siyan stared at the door for a moment, rubbing her chin as if deep in thought.

“Well, that should suffice.”

She soon rose, an enigmatic smile still on her lips.

*****

At the ball, Alon was inwardly overwhelmed by how much larger the crowd was compared to last time.

But—

“Greetings, Marquis!”

“Hello!”

“I’m—”

Before he could even look around, he was hit by an unrelenting stream of greetings from the nobles.

It took more than thirty minutes of receiving individual salutations from the Kalpha nobles—led by Duke Zenonia and Count Altia—before Alon finally had a moment to breathe.

Letting out a sigh, he thought,

As expected, balls are exhausting.

He moved to a corner of the ballroom, picked up an egg tart from a table along the wall, and started eating when—

“It’s been a while, Marquis Palatio.”

“...Hmm?”

A man approached him.

The face wasn’t immediately familiar, yet it felt oddly recognizable.

After a brief moment, Alon placed him.

“...Duke Merkiliane?”

The second brother of Fillian, and the current head of House Merkiliane. Duke Merkiliane smiled and gave a slight bow.

“It’s an honor to be remembered.”

“...It would be hard to forget.”

It wasn’t an empty statement.

Even if it took him a moment, Alon couldn’t forget House Merkiliane.

Not only because Fillian could be recruited as a companion for the protagonist, but more importantly—

Because it was where Alon’s statue stood.

A statue of Alon that didn’t even exist in his own Marquisate of Palatio.

“...That’s true.”

Duke Merkiliane answered with a sheepish look. Alon glanced around and thought,

They said there would be many foreign nobles, and it seems they were right.

At first, he’d been too busy greeting the Kalpha nobles to notice. Now, with a moment to look, it was clear the ballroom was full of unfamiliar faces.

Among them—

...King Shtalian V?

The King of Ashtalon was present as well, and close behind him stood a knight who drew every eye.

Even at a glance, the knight’s towering frame was over two meters tall. His overwhelming presence felt out of place amid the ballroom’s splendor, and no one seemed able to guess who he was.

After all, he wore a helmet that hid even his eyes.

But Alon recognized him instantly.

Zakurak the Scarred.

A lizardman who had crossed over from the land of the other races Siyan mentioned earlier. In Psychedelia, Zakurak was a key figure who became a major force in the fight against the Five Great Sins.

In addition, he was a character designed to tempt players into buying the DLC.

In Psychedelia, when facing the Five Great Sins, NPCs formed the core of the party composition.

Depending on the nation where a Sin manifested—or on the player’s actions up to that point—relevant NPCs would join to assist.

Zakurak was one such NPC. If the Five Great Sins appeared in Ashtalon, he would provide support, standing out from the others thanks to his unique traits.

The difficulty of dealing with the Five Great Sins—hard enough to make you smash a controller in frustration—was reduced somewhat by Zakurak’s strength.

...Even if it only shifted the difficulty from Hell Mode to something closer to Very Hard Mode, that was still a huge relief in Psychedelia, where there were no other ways to lower the difficulty.

And the DLC let players summon Zakurak—who otherwise only helped during the Ashtalon chapter—in battles against the Five Great Sins.

On top of that, clearing the DLC storyline unlocked other ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) powerful non-human allies comparable to Zakurak, who could also assist against the Five Great Sins.

For that reason, most players who wanted an easier time bought the DLC.

...Except players like Alon, who clung to their pride in the base game.

I didn’t think he’d become this significant.

Up until then, Zakurak had been staring forward. Then he turned his head.

His helmet hid his expression, but his gaze unmistakably landed on Alon.

For a moment, Alon considered trying to make contact—but unfortunately, he knew too little about Zakurak.

In the base game, neither the reason he aided the protagonist against the Five Great Sins nor his motives or goals were revealed.

In short, Alon didn’t have a single thread to pull.

Just as he decided to give up and looked away—

Flinch!

“...?”

Alon saw it.

The massive armored frame of Zakurak shifted, just slightly.

Before he could think further—

“...Marquis?”

Merkiliane’s voice drew Alon back to the conversation, and Alon gave a small nod in apology.

“Ah, my apologies.”

“Not at all. Actually, may I ask you for a small favor?”

“...A favor?”

“Yes. It’s not particularly difficult, but...”

Alon tilted his head slightly, face neutral, and replied, “Go ahead.”

“It’s about my brother... Could you write him a letter?”

“Your brother... You mean Fillian?”

“Yes. The thing is...”

Merkiliane hesitated awkwardly before explaining. After listening, Alon summed it up.

“So you’re saying he wants to replace the current statue and put up a new one of me, but the cost is excessive.”

“Yes, exactly. My brother doesn’t seem to have much sense when it comes to money, and this time he even suggested making it out of solid gold... But he won’t listen to me.”

Muttering, “I suspect he gave the current statue to Deus Macallian of Caliban as an excuse to build a new one,” Merkiliane let out a deep sigh, his frustration plain.

Alon was speechless.

“...Why is he so insistent on putting up a statue of me?”

Alon had helped Fillian, sure—but he couldn’t understand why they were going to such lengths.

...And he doubted he ever would.

Still, Alon nodded to show he understood.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Merkiliane released a relieved breath.

Meanwhile, Alon couldn’t shake a vague sense of guilt, even though he’d done nothing wrong.

*****

Late at night, as the first day of the ball came to a close, Alon started preparing to return to his quarters.

...To be honest, he’d wanted to leave hours ago.

But he’d been trapped by nobles the entire time, never able to rest, and now felt as if he’d spoken more in half a day than he had in six months.

Finally free, Alon headed down the corridor toward his assigned lodging.

“?”

There, he ran into two very familiar faces.

“...Syrkal?”

It was Syrkal and her younger sister, Jenira.

Alon tilted his head, confused for a moment—then remembered why they might be here.

The Thunder Serpent Tribe is aligned with the Principality of Luxible, wasn’t it?

As he recalled the rumor he’d overheard from Evan, Syrkal and Jenira approached him.

“Long—”

Before Alon could finish his greeting—

“We greet Kalannon, the Bearer of Lightning.”

“We greet Kalannon, the Bearer of Lightning.”

The sisters spoke in unison.

They bowed deeply, respectful to the core.

“Um...?”

Above Alon’s head, an endless cascade of question marks seemed to materialize.

Meanwhile, from behind a pillar in the corridor—

“...What was that?”

Carmaxes III—who had stealthily followed Alon to make a discreet proposal no one else was supposed to overhear—froze in place.

Marquis Palatio... is a god?

His jaw dropped as he tried to process the unbelievable “truth” unfolding before him.