I Became the Patron of Villains (Novel) - Chapter 106 - The God Made by Offerings (1)
Chapter 106 – The God Made by Offerings (1)
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Translated by Jinmu
Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net
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Before it grew too late into the night, Alon headed back to camp together with Selaim Mikardo, who no longer had any reason to continue his research now that the Hermit’s Hideaway had been opened.
“…The method of rising to the next circle, you say?”
“Indeed. I thought there might be information about that inside.”
At Selaim’s answer, which Alon heard while they talked on the way back to camp, Alon thought.
‘There probably is no circle beyond the eighth.’
As far as Alon knew, under Psychedelia’s setting, the eighth circle, the level that allowed one to use Origin, was the endpoint a mage could reach.
“I see.”
“Yes. In the end there was not much inside, but it was not bad. I gained quite a lot from investigating the circles on the gates.”
Watching Selaim laugh cheerfully, Alon quietly nodded.
He had no desire to pour cold water on the man’s passion for studying magic and climbing to a higher level.
‘…And just because the setting only named up to the eighth circle does not necessarily mean there is no ninth circle.’
Then a thought suddenly occurred to him.
‘…Come to think of it, what happened to Selaim Mikardo in the original work?’
In the original story as Alon knew it, Selaim Mikardo had never appeared even once.
Even when Penia was throwing hysterics exactly as she did in the original, the topic of the Tower Master had never even come up.
‘Am I simply failing to remember? It has been a long time. At this point, unless I look at my notebook, my memory really is bound to start growing hazy.’
Alon recalled the notebook in which he had once jotted down useful knowledge about this world whenever he had time, in case he forgot.
Still.
‘Even so, I am certain he did not appear in the main story of Psychedelia.’
Just as he reaffirmed that he had never seen Selaim in any scene he could recall.
“By the way, may I ask you one thing?”
“About what?”
“…By what method did you find the true key to the second gate?”
For some reason Selaim sounded a little cautious.
Alon answered rather firmly.
“That is not something I can really tell you.”
Among mages, asking directly about magic someone had personally developed, outside of established circle magic, was indeed considered rude.
…In truth, whether rude or not, Alon had nothing to explain in the first place, since the spell had really been no more than a flashy-looking trick.
‘Still, that is strange. At the level of an eighth-circle mage, I would expect him to see through it without difficulty. Is it because it was incantation magic after all?’
While Alon was reflecting on how surprisingly well his kindly lie had worked, Selaim still wore a smile.
“Ahem. My apologies. I was simply too curious.”
“It is all right.”
“Well, if we become a little closer, perhaps someday I will at least hear the basic principle. I shall wait for that day.”
“?”
Watching Selaim laugh heartily, Alon paused over the phrase become closer, feeling mildly puzzled.
Then.
“Well then, I should be going now.”
“You are leaving?”
“Yes. I have quite a lot to do from here. Even two bodies would not be enough.”
Alon was honestly pleased that Selaim was preparing to leave as soon as they reached camp.
In truth, he had found being around Selaim oddly uncomfortable as well.
“Then let us meet again another time.”
“Very well.”
So when Selaim offered one of those conventional farewells that really meant, We should have a meal together sometime, Alon returned a light answer, and soon Selaim vanished.
“Whew.”
Alon let out a deep sigh.
‘That is done too. The second task is finished.’
As he walked back to the inn, he continued his thoughts.
‘Now only the final task remains.’
In preparation for the Forgotten One.
Remembering the item, no, the existence that would be of immense help to him even aside from the Forgotten One, and the real reason he had come to the jungle in the first place.
‘…And all the preparations are finished as well.’
With that thought, he idly touched the ring he had received from Heinkel inside his clothes and returned to the inn.
“Welcome back, Marquis.”
“Deus?”
“Yes. I have returned.”
The moment he entered the inn, he saw Deus bow politely.
And beside him stood a man looking at Alon with an extremely arrogant face, full of slight irritation and displeasure.
A powerful man who, by rights, should have been Caliburn’s First Sword.
Reinhardt.
‘He is tall. I knew that already, but he looks well over two meters.’
Alon unconsciously lifted his eyes to look up at Reinhardt.
The height was enough that even Alon, who was rather tall himself, had to look up.
It gave off a natural pressure.
And unlike the name Reinhardt, which in a way sounded almost noble, his face was rough enough to create a real sense of threat.
On top of that, because he had apparently remained in the forest for a long time before Deus found him, his clothes were practically reduced to rags.
In his current state, Reinhardt looked like nothing more or less than a mountain bandit.
‘…When I saw him in Psychedelia, even with that rough face, he was at least neat, so the image that remained was that of a noble knight.’
As Alon looked at him somewhat intently because his appearance differed so greatly from what he remembered.
“What are you glaring at? Since I was introduced, then you should introduce your…”
Reinhardt began to speak with a frown.
But.
Smack.
The next instant, his head was abruptly struck downward.
“Show respect.”
It was Deus.
“You little…!”
The instant he was hit, Reinhardt glared at Deus with his eyes wide.
But Deus only repeated calmly.
“Show respect.”
“He was the rude one. Are you blind or what!?”
“You were the first to speak informally without respect.”
“I am allowed to.”
“You are not.”
“I am.”
“If you defeat me, then do as you please.”
“Ghk.”
“Did we not agree that the loser listens to the winner?”
Once Deus brought up what seemed to be some agreement between himself and Reinhardt, something Alon did not know about.
“Graaah!”
Reinhardt, as if filthy rage were boiling through him, shouted for a moment.
Then let out a deep sigh and said curtly.
“…My apologies. I was discourteous, Marquis Palladio.”
To Reinhardt, who spoke in a voice that did not sound apologetic in the slightest, Alon replied.
“It is fine.”
Reinhardt made a face showing that he disliked that answer immensely and sat down with a grumble.
Watching that, Alon felt a rather strange sensation.
‘…I am fairly sure he was supposed to be the sort of headlong character who never bowed to anyone. Seeing him like this feels oddly awkward.’
After briefly shrugging while recalling the agreement between Reinhardt and Deus that had just been mentioned in passing.
“We can talk later. For now, let us rest today.”
He decided to rest first.
…The sticky humidity was still unpleasant.
Still, perhaps because he had grown a little more used to it, he was able to fall asleep rather quickly.
####
The next day.
After looking outside the inn and seeing a fine rain falling steadily, Alon was able to hear a simple explanation from Deus about Reinhardt.
“…He came to the jungle for training?”
“Yes. That is why he was in the Selvanus sector and the northern sector.”
“…The northern sector?”
“Yes.”
Naturally, the Selvanus sector was not a place one ordinarily entered for the sake of training.
The mutants inside that sector were extremely strong.
Even if someone like Filian, who had only just become a Swordmaster but possessed immense talent, went there, he would probably survive.
But the Selvanus sector was still the sort of place where he would suffer enormously.
‘Training in a place like that… It may be possible because he is Reinhardt, but even so, the northern sector would be difficult.’
The northern sector.
That place, which could be called the territory of the Hundred Ghosts, was somewhere even Deus would find burdensome.
The mutants there were only somewhat stronger than those in the Selvanus sector.
The real problem lay elsewhere.
The underlings of the Hundred Ghosts.
“Of course, from what I heard, it does not seem he stayed long in the northern sector.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It sounds as though he spent quite a bit of time in the Selvanus sector instead.”
At that timely answer, Alon nodded.
Then, while admiring Reinhardt’s strength anew, he turned his gaze to Deus.
‘…And Deus beat Reinhardt.’
“Why are you looking at me like that, Marquis?”
At the stare, Deus asked.
After considering how to answer, Alon said calmly.
“Because it seems to have turned out well.”
What he actually felt was the pride of a father seeing his son grow splendidly.
But saying that outright would have been strange, so Alon phrased it indirectly.
“…Is that so?”
“Yes. You are doing well.”
“I see.”
Perhaps because he felt some sort of pride from Alon’s words, Deus gave off more of a puffed-up impression than usual.
After talking with him for a while, and after Evan and even Reinhardt came downstairs for breakfast and finished a simple meal, Alon asked what he needed to ask.
“Will Deus return now?”
“That is the plan. But… will you not return with me?”
“There is somewhere I still need to stop by.”
“Then I will accompany you as well.”
“…Should you not return, now that you have achieved your objective?”
“A few days will be fine.”
“To be honest, I had actually been thinking of asking you to come with me if possible. Hearing you say that is helpful.”
“Not at all.”
That was Deus’s answer.
“Then am I supposed to wait here?”
“Come with us.”
“Why should I do that?”
At that, Reinhardt protested crookedly.
“Because you will run away again.”
“Ha? Me? That is ridiculous.”
“Did you think I would not know that you ran all the way to the jungle because you disliked calling me elder brother?”
“…”
At that follow-up blow, Reinhardt closed his mouth.
…And with it, an explanation Alon had not wanted to know came out as well.
After quietly clearing his throat while watching a scene one could hardly pay to see.
Evan, who had also been silently watching, asked quietly.
“So, where are we going?”
“We are going to where the Thunder Serpent tribe is.”
“The Thunder Serpent tribe? …Wait, do you mean the one in the east?”
“Yes.”
When Alon nodded, Reinhardt, who had been quiet until then, suddenly twisted his face into a scowl.
“Ha? You are saying we are going there? Marquis Palladio, do you even know what kind of place that is?”
“Of course I do.”
The place where the Thunder Serpent tribe lived.
Among the three sectors currently explored from the jungle camp, it was the region in the east, the one that had seen the least development so far.
The reason was simple.
It was the nature of the Thunder Serpent tribe to reject outsiders thoroughly.
“…You know that those people are there, and you still mean to go?”
“Yes.”
“Ha…”
Reinhardt could not hide his incredulous expression.
At that.
Smack.
“Ow. You bastard, seriously.”
“Show respect.”
“Do you want to die? Huh!?”
“If you truly want to see who dies, you are welcome to try.”
Once again, Reinhardt was struck in the back of the head by Deus.
Watching Reinhardt burst into loud anger, Alon thought.
‘If he knows the Thunder Serpents, then that reaction is normal.’
Whether in the actual game or in the setting, the Thunder Serpent tribe was an extremely troublesome race to deal with.
To begin with, every single tribesman was individually at least as strong as a knight, and when they fought in the forest, their combat efficiency more than doubled.
And that was not all.
From the moment one became hostile with the Thunder Serpent tribe, one started suffering curses, more than ten kinds in all, and those debuffs tormented the victim until they left the eastern sector entirely.
Still, in truth, that part was not especially worrisome.
Because beside him now were Reinhardt and Deus.
Even so, there remained a reason to be cautious.
Because the Thunder Serpent tribe possessed an absolute existence.
The god they served.
…And at the same time, the thing that was Alon’s objective.
Therefore.
“It seems the discussion is over, so let us leave at once.”
Alon rose from his seat.
“To meet the Thunder Serpent tribe.”
####
Seeing that the rain had already stopped, Alon’s group headed toward the eastern sector, where no expedition party or mercenary normally ventured.
After roughly an hour or two in the eastern sector.
“…”
Reinhardt looked at Marquis Palladio, who was walking ahead of them, with slightly displeased eyes.
To be honest, Reinhardt did not particularly welcome Marquis Palladio.
It was not that the marquis had directly done anything to him.
But oddly enough, Reinhardt had suffered a great deal of collateral damage because of him.
‘…What is there to like so much that he keeps going on and on about that man?’
Reinhardt could never understand Deus, who, whenever they were in meetings, naturally turned the conversation toward Alon as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
Of course, he had heard from other knights that Alon had accomplished great deeds a few years ago in the northern battle against an Outer God.
Even so, that was hardly the sort of story one ought to keep recycling for years.
On top of that, the Marquis Palladio Reinhardt had seen in person did not seem all that special compared with all the praise.
If not for the fact that the knights who had participated in the northern expedition all testified until their mouths ran dry whenever the story came up, Reinhardt might well have concluded that the rumors had been exaggerated.
It already annoyed him enough that he could have returned to Caliburn but had been dragged all the way here instead.
And while moving along in a sour mood.
Reinhardt suddenly drew his sword.
Then.
They appeared.
Unknown people wearing white leather pelts and animal-bone masks on their heads.
They had appeared before the group almost like a mirage.
“…”
The instant he saw them, Reinhardt frowned.
‘We have already been hit by a curse.’
At some unnoticed point, he had felt his senses grow endlessly dull.
“This is your warning, outsiders. This is Blue Serpent territory. Leave.”
Hearing the growl of the tribesman wearing a mask with four horns, Reinhardt let out an involuntary breath of admiration.
‘Not a Swordmaster, but on the verge of it. I had no idea that even in such a primitive place without a cultivation method, there would be one this close.’
He observed the masked tribesman for a moment, impressed by the unexpected level.
Then.
“I came to meet the chieftain.”
“You ignore the warning.”
Reinhardt saw it.
No, he was made to see it.
The instant Marquis Palladio finished speaking, the tribesman’s long single-edged blade thrust forward with murderous sharpness.
Crack.
And froze in an instant.
That was not all.
As though refusing to permit even a sliver of an opening, the area around Marquis Palladio began freezing over.
The drizzling rain.
The nearby plants.
The blade that had been thrust forward.
Then even the hand holding that blade.
Everything froze.
And as Reinhardt stared blankly at that sight, his pupils widened uncontrollably.
The reason was the two eyes visible behind Alon.
As if perception itself were forbidden, that thing began eroding Reinhardt’s mind in an instant.
Yet the real reason he was truly shocked lay elsewhere.
The sight of Alon from behind, his coat fluttering and two eyes floating to either side of him.
Felt terribly familiar.
It was as if he had seen it somewhere before, some image so impossible to remember properly if one had merely passed by it, and yet one that had dug deeply into his brain for some reason.
Instinctively trying to recall where he had seen it, Reinhardt remembered one thing.
A year ago.
When he had rushed boldly into a place after hearing rumors, only to be forced to flee.
When a single blow had shattered his sword miserably and left him with a sense of defeat greater than what Deus had ever given him.
‘…That statue behind the Hundred Ghosts?’
Because the image before him resembled closely the gigantic statue carved into an entire cliff face behind the rock upon which the Hundred Ghosts had sat.