I Became the Patron of Villains (Novel) - Chapter 144 - Toward Colony (1)

Chapter 144 – Toward Colony (1)

===================

Translated by Jinmu

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

===================

Luxible was a small principality bordering the mysterious jungle of Ronovelli, a place made up of only a few territories.

Even if it was called a principality, that only meant its power was pitifully weak compared with the other member states of the Allied Kingdoms.

And that was not all.

In practice, most of the money used to run the Principality of Luxible came from a single place.

Kaslot, the border city beside the mysterious jungle Ronovelli.

Of course, the taxes from that place were considerable.

But they were nowhere near enough to realize the grand cause of Pamilono, Luxible’s seventh ruler.

Because Pamilono held an ambition even greater than his father’s.

He wanted to raise his principality until it became large and glorious enough to be called a true nation like the others.

In theory, it was not impossible.

Luxible belonged to the Allied Kingdoms, and now that wars between territories and wars between countries were forbidden, it could no longer expand by force.

But buying territory with money was still possible.

And if he truly needed land, he could always look south.

To the south were the lands of the other races, territory not included within the domain of the Allied Kingdoms.

Unfortunately, in realistic terms, it was close to an impossible dream.

To buy territory required a truly absurd amount of money.

Enough to empty the treasury and potentially collapse the principality outright.

There was also the option of going to war with the other races and taking land that way, but unfortunately, they were not so easy that the armed forces of a mere principality could swallow them whole.

In the first place, that was why the Allied Kingdoms tolerated the territories of the other races, unlike the barbarian tribes that invaded the interior.

But more than anything, the real reason the seventh ruler’s great cause could remain only a great cause was corruption.

Yes.

Corruption.

Unfortunately, the Principality of Luxible was deeply rotten, even across the few tiny territories it still possessed.

How rotten was it?

The simplest example was that the grand dukes commanded far more troops than the king himself.

That was why, from the moment he ascended the throne as a puppet king, he had agonized over the same problem.

How was he supposed to break out of a situation with neither dream nor hope?

Then, as he wrestled with that question, an opportunity arrived.

A deal with the devil.

No, in truth, that was not quite the right word.

The ones who made the offer were human.

And yet he still thought of it as joining hands with devils, because their proposal was simply too sweet.

Better yet, it required almost no sacrifice from him at all.

If things continued as they were, he was certain to end up just like his father, forced into marriage at the proper time, made to produce heirs, and eventually poisoned.

The life of a puppet king, from start to finish.

So he joined hands with them as if he were wagering on a lie.

He did not expect much.

It was little more than a final act of resistance.

But today.

Thud.

Pamilono received the result of that gamble.

“…”

He stared blankly downward.

At his feet lay the heads of old men.

No, from Pamilono’s point of view, they were the heads of pigs he could have chewed to death without feeling satisfied.

The heads of Grand Duke Richton and Grand Duke Beaufort.

Pamilono slowly lifted his gaze.

A girl stood there.

A girl wearing white leather and holding a blood-dripping spear.

“…Is this real?”

“You could always confirm it. The proof is right in front of you.”

Swift Sirkal casually nudged the two heads with her spear.

Pamilono swallowed hard.

“…I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. I could never forget the faces of those bastards, not even in my dreams.”

“That’s fortunate. Ah, just in case, I also took care of their soldiers, so you don’t need to worry.”

“…That too is true?”

“There would be no reason for me to lie.”

“I see.”

The girl’s voice was flat and emotionless.

Pamilono let out a deep sigh while staring at the severed heads rolling on the floor.

“Very well. I obtained what I wanted, so now I should pay the price. Was it two things? Say what you want.”

Even as he said it, his face was tense.

When this girl had first approached him with the proposal, he had not worried much about the payment.

He had not truly believed she could kill both grand dukes.

But now it had become reality.

So he had steeled himself to pay any price.

And yet.

“We would like land where our people can live.”

“…You mean you want territory?”

“It doesn’t have to be anything that grand. Giving us about half the land of the pig we just dealt with would be enough.”

“…Accepted.”

The first demand was not nearly as overwhelming as he had expected.

Pamilono was briefly bewildered.

Only briefly.

“The second request is the one that really matters.”

“…Speak.”

His tension returned at once.

“Make our god the state religion.”

“…A god?”

“Yes. Establish the god we worship as the state religion, and place his statues throughout the territory. Those are the two conditions.”

The seventh ruler answered.

“That won’t be difficult.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Of course, Rosaria and the Holy Kingdom still made the matter somewhat delicate.

But Luxible was already a place the Holy Kingdom had effectively abandoned long ago.

That meant there would be no real issue even if Sironia became the state religion now.

Pamilono nodded.

At that, the girl, or rather Swift Sirkal, lightly tipped her chin toward the darkness.

Soon another girl emerged from the shadows.

Jenira handed a statue to Pamilono.

“…This is?”

“The statue of the god we serve.”

The statue depicted a man whose face was hidden in shadow.

A man in a dark coat, holding lightning in one hand.

“…What is this god’s name?”

As he stared at the statue, Pamilono asked the question.

Jenira smiled with her eyes as though she had been waiting for it.

“He is the one and only god of our Thunder Serpent tribe, and our savior.”

“He is Lord Kalanon, the Lightning Receiver.”

She declared the name.

A faint trace of fanaticism shone in her eyes.

####

Recently, Penia Craisinne had been very happy.

…Well, not always, but for the most part she had.

After going to confess everything to House Palladio out of fear that her life might be in danger, she had unexpectedly received an absurdly good offer.

If she helped Marquis Palladio with his research into magic, then she would be allowed to learn magic from Heinkel without needing to keep up lies about their relationship.

From her point of view, it was an unbelievably good arrangement with nothing to lose.

Of course, she would have to keep helping with the Marquis’s magic research for an unknown length of time, but that was not a major problem.

The point was that she could now learn magic from Heinkel without any trouble.

That was unimaginably, absurdly important.

On top of that, while the eye behind the Marquis’s back was a bit frightening, supporting his magic research was actually rather interesting.

His magic belonged to a category she herself had never once seen before.

In the first place, Alon’s magic did not belong to any existing rank at all, which naturally stimulated the curiosity of a magic maniac like Penia.

So for a while, she enjoyed the research quite a lot.

At some point, she even grew able to meet the gaze of the eye behind the Marquis without immediately shrinking back.

Of course, that period of enjoyable research did not last very long.

The sigil Alon asked for help with was, unfortunately, something only he himself could use.

Why would Marquis Palladio, who possessed magical fundamentals far beyond her own, ask her to assist with his research?

She wondered for a moment, then shook the thought away.

She had decided not to hold any unnecessary suspicions about the Marquis anymore.

In any case, what mattered to her was Heinkel’s magic, and satisfying her curiosity while helping the Marquis’s research was enough.

She had achieved her goal, and lately her daily life had been rather satisfying.

…At least until a few days ago, when the Marquis said he had something to take care of and left.

“Aaaaaaagh.”

“Hik.”

Penia screamed.

The shriek was so horrible that Pellin, who had been timidly flipping through records beside her, involuntarily held his breath.

But Penia looked as if the world around her had gone dark.

Her bloodshot eyes were fixed only on the research journal in front of her.

It was the journal Alon had left behind, describing what he had discovered about the sigil in this round of research, as well as how the mana arrangement and molecular structure changed depending on the sigil.

“How am I supposed to…”

Penia’s hands trembled as she clutched the thick stack of papers.

“Do all of this?”

She screamed again and recalled the conversation she had with Alon a few days earlier.

“Vice Tower Master, I’d like to ask you to handle this.”

“Uh… what exactly do you mean by this?”

“From the results of the research so far, we learned that when mana molecular structures combine, they transform into new forms, didn’t we?”

“Y yes, right?”

“While I’m away, please organize it in a simple form.”

“…All of this?”

“Yes. It isn’t that much, is it?”

“No, I mean…”

“Do you dislike it?”

That had not been a conversation.

It had been a demon wearing the mask of a kind professor, calmly exploiting a pitiful disciple.

Penia screwed her eyes shut and let out a groan.

Only now did she understand why he had asked for help with the research.

“So this is whyyyyy.”

The laws of molecular structure had already been mostly revealed.

Which meant that from here on, what remained was not really research anymore, but brute-force labor, testing how the structures could be fitted together and finding every possible combination.

In other words.

This was no longer research.

It was labor.

And vicious labor at that.

Which was why.

“Marquis Palladio, you son of a…”

She swallowed the rest of the insult soundlessly.

Then she let out a bizarre groan and slammed her forehead onto the desk.

Penia sprawled there for a while.

Then, after her shoulders shook as though she had truly gone mad, she raised her bloodshot eyes.

“I’ll do it somehow.”

“Somehow, definitely… definitely I’ll learn magic from Lord Heinkel.”

Grinding her teeth, she spread her mana.

“I’ll do it. I can do it.”

With more than five pens strapped to her like weapons, she started writing across the paper at frantic speed.

At the sight of that deranged older sister.

“…”

Pellin quietly shrank into himself.

####

At that time.

“I wonder if she’s doing well.”

While eating a roasted sweet potato, Alon suddenly found himself thinking of Penia.

“Well, organizing it shouldn’t be that difficult.”

The molecular-structure sorting he had left to the Vice Tower Master.

“Once she organizes the first-order arrangements, it should be faster afterward to directly implement them and start weaving them together.”

Completely unaware that Penia was already organizing not just first-order arrangements but second- and third-order ones as well, Alon took another bite of sweet potato.

Then.

“Marquis.”

“What is it?”

“I heard something rather strange and interesting this time.”

“Something strange and interesting?”

Evan brought up a new topic.

“Yes. I heard that Rine is the only Upper Councilor left now.”

“Why?”

“Well, no one knows why, but apparently every time someone becomes an Upper Councilor, they end up dying. So Rine alone is serving consecutive terms in the position.”

“…That is certainly strange.”

“Right? I thought so too.”

A short silence followed.

“…No way.”

Alon’s murmur broke it.

Evan thought for a moment about what he meant, then laughed.

“Come on, no way. That would be much too obvious, wouldn’t it?”

“…True enough.”

After spending a week like that, they finally reached Lartania, where Alon met Rine.

“You’re here, Godfather?”

“It’s been a while.”

“Come inside first. It’s getting hot outside.”

The two of them entered the office together.

“Ah, Godfather. You said your birthday is September 20, correct?”

The moment the door closed, Rine asked the question in a calm voice.

“…That’s right. Why?”

“Ah, I’m preparing a present.”

“A present?”

She smiled faintly.

“Yes. Hm. I hope you like it.”

And then, with that same faint smile, she looked toward the lord’s castle of Lartania.