Became the Patron of Villains

The king wasn’t dead, and Sircal wasn’t even the king’s direct line, but—an awkward conversation with Sircal, who had inherited the throne far too naturally, continued.

Then, all of a sudden, Alon remembered what Siyan had said.

'Gathering troops...'

Of course, Sircal gathering troops and the Divine Land being created were nothing more than a coincidence.

They had nothing to do with each other.

In the first place, starting a few years ago, Alon hadn’t met Sircal at all.

So Alon debated whether to ask about that, but—

"Oh my, would you mind if we moved for a moment?"

At Sircal’s sudden words, Alon looked around.

Nobles who were desperately waiting for a chance to talk with {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} Sircal were gathered nearby.

Are they nobles from another country? Thinking that, Alon nodded.

"Right. Sorry for taking up your time."

"No, don’t say that. Right now, I’m moving because I ‘have no choice,’ anyway."

"...No choice?"

At Alon’s question, Sircal gave a faint smile and nodded.

"Just as the Saintess said, the preparations are going well, so you don’t have to worry."

In the moment Sircal brushed past Alon, Sircal whispered in a voice so small the surroundings couldn’t hear.

"...What?"

Alon reacted late and turned, but—

Sircal was already joining the nobles.

"??"

Still bewildered as Alon watched, Alon recalled what Sircal had said again.

'Just as the Saintess said, the preparations are going well, so you don’t have to worry.'

A voice with laughter mixed into it.

"Hoo—"

Alon thought calmly.

...Even if it felt a little weird to be thinking about this alone.

Alon knew that in the Luxible Duchy, they worshiped Kalannon, the One Who Receives Lightning.

And Alon also knew that Sircal and Sircal’s younger sibling, Jenira, had spread statues that looked like Alon.

In other words, the ‘Saintess’ Sircal meant was—there was only the Saintess of Kalannon, the One Who Receives Lightning.

In the first place, the Sironia goddess didn’t have a Saintess right now.

Then there was only one conclusion.

The Saintess Sircal meant was Sili.

"..."

After reasoning it out that far, Alon naturally started worrying about the next question: what ‘preparations’ meant.

What in the world did that mean?

...No, actually, Alon knew.

The king of the Luxible Duchy who had suddenly changed.

And if you added the secret information Alon heard from Siyan—it wasn’t hard at all to figure out what those ‘preparations’ were.

Troops.

If you interpreted Sircal’s words—

[Just as Sili said, the troops are well prepared, so you don’t have to worry.]

"..."

At the shocking combination that came out the moment Alon put it together, Alon’s mouth fell open, and Alon looked back at Sircal again.

...Sili? Sili, what in the world are you doing?

"Teacher? Is something wrong?"

"No— I’m fine."

Yutia, who had finished taking care of things, came up.

Alon waved a hand like everything was fine and asked Yutia,

"Did you finish your talk properly?"

"Yes. It wasn’t a big deal."

"What was it about?"

"Mm— are you curious?"

"...? I am curious, but if it’s something I shouldn’t know, it’s fine if you don’t tell me."

"Hm—"

Yutia made a face like Yutia was deciding what to do, then smiled as if Yutia had thought of something good.

Yutia stabbed an egg tart with a fork and held it out whole to Alon—

"Ah."

Yutia opened red lips slightly.

"?"

Alon blanked out for a moment, but quickly caught on to what Yutia meant and took the fork.

Then Alon brought the egg tart to Yutia’s mouth.

With a wasak- sound, the dessert went into Yutia’s mouth.

GyaaAAAAAak-!!

Then a familiar voice behind them let out a grotesque scream. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Alon was about to turn, but—

"Mm— it’s good."

"Is it?"

"Yes. I think it tastes even better because Teacher fed it to me."

"Isn’t it just that the egg tart is good?"

"No? It tastes especially good to me."

Yutia, chewing with a hand lightly covering the mouth, soon wore a satisfied smile.

"It really wasn’t anything. It was about Elivan’s birthday."

"A birthday..."

"Yes. I heard it’s going to happen right after the ball ends. About two weeks later?"

"Then isn’t that basically right after the ball ends?"

"That’s right."

"That’s fast."

"Well, I guess there are nobles who like it better when schedules are packed close together, too."

Alon nodded, then suddenly got curious.

"Yutia."

"Yes."

"Are you going to the party too?"

"No, I didn’t get invited."

"...Really?"

"Yes. Of course, it’s not just me—there are a lot of nobles who didn’t get invited, so people are starting to mutter that they don’t understand what standard is being used to decide the invite list."

"Sounds like a lot of people want to go."

"Probably. For nobles, a place like that for conversation is very important."

Remembering the meeting with Elivan earlier, Alon felt oddly unsettled for no reason.

Soon the conversation wrapped up, and after Alon ate a few egg tarts, Alon left the ball a little early.

"Hey—are you kidding me!? Where are the egg tarts?!"

"Th- they were definitely here—!"

"Ao—damn it! Move fast! We have to replace them with something else!"

On the way, Alon heard servants’ voices.

It was about the egg tarts Alon had eaten deliciously.

The remaining stock had completely evaporated.

Alon shrugged and headed to the assigned room.

That night.

"Benefactor! Is there anything you’re curious about with me!?"

"...Curious about?"

"Yeah!"

"Not really right now. Why?"

"Thennn— you’re not curious about anything? L-like why my tail is so fluffy!"

"...If I say I’m curious about that, then what?"

Alon took the fork with an egg tart stuck on it from Seollang.

"Aaang—"

"..."

So it was you.

Seollang opened the mouth like a baby bird waiting for food.

Seollang was looking at Alon with eyes slyly narrowed.

Only then did Alon realize the truth behind the missing egg tarts.

And that night, Alon received additional questions from Ryang-a and Historia—each one asking about the horn and the tail attached above the head—and after that, Alon had to eat eleven egg tarts.

"...I won’t need to eat egg tarts for a while."

...It was Alon’s short monologue.

Two weeks later.

After Alon, who had been tormented by egg tarts, returned to the Palatio estate while eating sweet potatoes that didn’t bore Alon at all, and around the time the nobles invited to Elivan’s birthday party were attending a new ball in Tern—

"Hoo— are all the preparations finished?"

"Yes."

The Duke Pimallian of Ashtalon arrived in Tern.

With a satisfied smile, the duke told a servant,

"Make sure it’s prepared properly. It’s something to present to him."

"Yes. I will manage it properly."

Rubbing the chin, the duke looked at Tern in front with a relaxed expression.

Quite a lot of soldiers and knights came into view.

A bit too many for escort forces for a mere party.

And since soldiers and knights from each country seemed to have been drafted, they were all wearing different uniforms.

Watching that scene, the duke soon walked inward.

"Duke."

"Speak."

"Then, as soon as today’s party ends, should we deliver the prepared item right away?"

"Yes."

"But— is it really all right to hand over something like that so readily."

At the servant’s concern, the duke laughed without sound.

The duke knew.

What the servant was worried about.

And that was only natural, because what the Duke Pimallian was trying to give Elivan as a present this time was—drugs.

And not just any drugs, but a medicine that had recently been circulating in the underworld at a very expensive market price.

On the surface, Elivan and drugs were an extremely mismatched combination.

Yeah. On the surface.

"Just do the job you were told."

At the duke’s rebuke, the servant bowed and went away, and the duke, entering the ballroom that looked dazzling, thought,

'What would everyone say if it came out that Elivan, that bastard, was the one who proposed the drug business first?'

The smile clinging to the duke’s lips deepened.

Even now, when the duke remembered that time, a huh- laugh slipped out without meaning to.

Of course it did.

That hero, who seemed so pure and like the hero would only be focused on saving the world and not care about anything else at all, had secretly come to visit and proposed a business.

And not just once, but twice.

Bringing an underworld vision that looked convincing no matter who heard it.

What Elivan proposed wasn’t some sloppy bait meant to tempt the duke.

Elivan, who looked like the most unrelated person to that kind of thing, had information on the underworld faster than even the duke.

Elivan even knew what kind of work the duke was doing.

'...To think the hero praised for saving the world would be like that.'

The Duke Pimallian clicked the tongue internally and looked around.

There were quite a lot of nobles gathered at the ball.

Among them were nobles the duke knew, and nobles the duke didn’t.

If there was one strange point—

it was that every familiar face to the duke had, whether shallowly or deeply, set foot in the underworld side of things.

Kkiiiik-!

After gathering information that simply, the duke soon saw Elivan far off in the distance, opening the central doors of the ball and coming out.

But what was a little unusual was—

'...Alone?'

Elivan was alone.

Normally, there were always companions next to Elivan, assisting.

And that had been true in the ball held in Asteria as well.

While the duke was internally puzzled, Elivan climbed up onto the ball’s platform and started clearing the throat.

The moment the eyes of the nobles gathered at the ball focused on Elivan—

Elivan muttered quietly.

Elivan lightly shifted the gaze from side to side, continuing to chant something.

Questions bloomed over the nobles’ heads.

And even the Duke Pimallian tilted the head and stepped forward—

"Two—, thirty—"

Elivan’s ‘words’ could be heard clearly.

Elivan—

"Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty—"

was counting numbers.

Calmly.

Turning the gaze here and there.

And when doubt rose at Elivan’s bizarre behavior—

"Forty-eight."

Elivan’s gaze stopped on the Duke Pimallian.

Before the duke could even ask anything, Elivan’s lips filled with a bright smile.

"Hmhm—"

Only then, as if starting up the preface, Elivan cleared the throat.

"A total of forty-eight nobles have gathered here. Thanks to that, I was able to lighten the hero’s burden all the way to the end."

The moment the nobles made doubtful expressions at the words whose intent they couldn’t understand—

Kwaddeudeudeudeuk-!

The countless nobles who had been looking at Elivan.

Among them, the neck of the one standing in the very front turned two full rotations—

Cheolpeok-

and the body collapsed onto the ground, spraying blood everywhere.

"“......”"

A thick stench of blood spread.

And.

"Thank you so much, everyone."

As a signal from Elivan, smiling with a face splattered with blood—

"Uwaaaaaaaak-!!!＂

the hellish chaos began.