I Became the Patron of Villains (Novel) - Chapter 25 - Isn't This a Bit Much (1)

Chapter 25 – Isn’t This a Bit Much? (1)

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Translated by Jinmu

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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Kamain, third son of Duke Komalon, had been in a foul mood for the past week.

Part of it was that the marriage arrangement had collapsed.

But what really kept scraping at his nerves was Count Palladio.

He had intended to relieve his stress by picking on Count Palladio at the banquet, only to end up being publicly humiliated instead.

Naturally, that had happened entirely because of Kamain himself.

If he had not appraised other young noblewomen’s looks in front of the lady in question, the marriage arrangement would likely have proceeded just fine. And if he had left Count Palladio alone, he would not have suffered that humiliation either.

But Kamain had already forgotten that he was the one who picked the fight first.

All he remembered was what had been done to him.

He replayed the moment over and over again.

It was, after all, the first time in his life that he had ever been made to suffer such ridiculous disgrace.

Kamain had always lived beneath the shadow of Duke Komalon, one of the kingdom’s great pillars. He had never once endured humiliation before, which was why the memory had dug so deeply into his mind.

For about ten days he kept chewing over it, grinding his teeth whenever it surfaced.

Then, the moment he returned to Duke Komalon’s territory, he opened his mouth as if he had finally made up his mind.

“You.”

“Yes, young master.”

“Where did that bastard say he was going again?”

“As I mentioned before, Count Palladio said he had business in Caliburn…”

Kamain did not even wait for the knight to finish.

He strode into his room, yanked open a desk drawer, and looked inside.

There were numerous crystal orbs stored there.

He took the one on the far right, pulled out a magic stone from his pocket, and pressed it against the communication orb.

At once, the orb lit up brightly.

After some time, the light dimmed, and then a voice came from within.

[Well, if it isn’t my dear friend Kamain.]

“I’ll get straight to the point. I need a favor.”

Kamain spoke into the orb.

[Hm? A favor? What kind?]

“Count Palladio should be on his way there by now. Take care of him for me.”

[Take care of him? Count Palladio?]

The person in the orb sounded genuinely confused.

“You don’t have to kill him. Just cripple the bastard.”

The man in the orb fell silent for a moment, as if trying to respond, then:

[Even so, that might be a bit…]

“Five.”

[…What?]

“If you wreck that bastard for me, I’ll give you five more. You need them, don’t you, if you want to get stronger?”

[Hah…]

The man inside the orb let out a dry laugh and asked back:

[Are you serious? You can really get five more?]

“Assuming you do the job properly, yes.”

Silence.

“You can do it, can’t you?”

[Ha…]

Then, as if he could not help himself, the man laughed.

[You really do know me too well, friend. You know exactly how to push my buttons.]

“Are you going to do it or not?”

[All I have to do is beat him down, right?]

“Right. As brutally as possible.”

[Wow. He must have really gotten under your skin. Fine. I’ll contact you again after it’s done.]

Then the communication cut off.

The room fell silent, as if the earlier conversation had been a lie.

But one thing had changed.

A crooked smile spread across Kamain’s lips.

You didn’t think you could humiliate me and walk away untouched, did you?

* * *

“So we’ve finally made it.”

“Looks that way.”

Roughly two weeks after meeting Elivan, Alon looked toward Kirdam, the capital of Caliburn, in the distance, then turned to glance behind the carriage.

The carriage was stacked with gifts of various kinds.

Naturally, every one of them was meant for Deus.

“This is exhausting. Really exhausting.”

Evan yawned beside him and looked drained.

Alon could not deny that he was tired too.

“Long journeys are exhausting by nature.”

“…If we hadn’t gone detouring through places like that labyrinth, this trip probably would have been a lot more peaceful.”

Evan had a point.

Part of the fatigue came from the simple fact that they had been traveling a long time.

But it was also because Alon had made numerous stops over the past week.

“It was necessary.”

Alon answered calmly.

In truth, the reason he had gone out of his way to visit so many places on the road to Caliburn was that he had been preparing for a fight against an Outer God.

The lotus-shaped necklace hanging at his throat now, which had not been there two weeks earlier, was one part of those preparations.

So Alon ignored Evan’s gaze and asked:

“You said Deus has returned from the expedition, correct?”

“Yes. He should be there, at least.”

Alon fell silent for a moment after hearing that.

Then:

“…He’ll meet with me, won’t he?”

“…I assume he will.”

That was Evan’s answer, but Alon was not fully convinced.

Meeting me isn’t the important part. The important part is whether he’ll grant the favor.

Alon had provided Deus with plenty of financial support over the years and had also saved him from a life that would otherwise have fallen into misery.

By any objective chain of cause and effect, that put Alon firmly in the position of benefactor.

But that was only true when viewed abstractly.

From Deus’s perspective, Alon was probably just some grateful noble somewhere who had spent money to save him.

They had never once met face to face.

And with no direct meeting, there was no way they could have built any real closeness.

So now that they were finally in Kirdam, Alon felt a bit uneasy.

I’ll have to hope the gifts do their work.

That was what he was thinking as the carriage reached the northern gate of Kirdam and joined the line for inspection.

Outside Asteria, noble or not, everyone had to be searched before entering the capital.

So after giving the basic details of his identity to the soldier checking arrivals, Alon waited for Evan to finish handling the formalities while the line of carriages crept forward.

Then:

“Count?”

“What is it?”

“We’ve got a slight problem.”

Evan stuck his head into the carriage while saying it.

Alon got down, puzzled, and immediately found a knight standing there with a supremely smug expression.

Red hair.

A lion crest on his chest.

A face that looked irritating on principle.

Alon tilted his head slightly. The man spoke first.

“You’re Count Palladio?”

“I am.”

Without even knowing him, the knight spoke informally, proving that in a fantasy world, first impressions were often accurate.

Evan leaned in and whispered:

“I think he’s Fiola’s disciple.”

“…Fiola?”

“Yes. The Fourth Sword.”

Only then did Alon let out a faint sound of understanding.

Fiola. Master Knight. Fourth Sword of Caliburn.

Even after recalling that much, he still did not understand why Fiola’s disciple would be standing here at the city gate with a whole group of knights.

“So why is the Fourth Sword’s disciple here? And why did he bring all these knights?”

Alon swept his gaze aside.

There were numerous knights there, all bearing the same lion emblem associated with Fiola’s line.

“…What business do you have with me?”

The disciple approached with an easy smile.

“First, let me introduce myself. I am Biran, direct disciple of Fiola.”

“…And?”

“I heard a friend of mine received a bit of trouble from you.”

“A friend?”

“Yes. A friend.”

“I don’t have any particular ties in Caliburn.”

“My friend doesn’t live in Caliburn either. He’s in Ashtalon.”

At that, Alon muttered, Ashtalon…? Then understanding dawned.

“…Kamain?”

“That’s right. He contacted me.”

Alon stared at him in disbelief.

I didn’t even do anything to that idiot. And how long has it been? Barely two weeks?

For a moment he almost admired the pettiness required for that sort of complaint to go racing off to his friends so quickly.

“I owe him a little myself,” Biran went on. “So I need to put on at least a token performance.”

“And waiting here all this time was that performance?”

“To be exact, I’ve been waiting for word. All carriages from Asteria pass through here.”

Alon felt a headache coming on.

Even in a foreign kingdom, a noble’s authority did not vanish outright. A count should not have had to deal with something like this in front of a city gate.

“So what exactly are you planning?”

“I’ll give you two choices. The goods in your carriage look rather expensive. Why not gift all of them to us?”

“And the second choice?”

“Three weeks in the underground cells.”

“…You do understand I’m a noble from another kingdom?”

If a foreign noble were imprisoned for no reason, someone would have to answer for it. That was why Alon asked.

Biran only smiled.

“I am Fiola’s only direct disciple.”

At that, Alon could only look at him in disbelief.

In other words:

I can pull this kind of stunt and suffer no consequences because of who stands behind me.

That was what Biran was really saying.

And the truly absurd part was that, to some extent, he was right.

Here, Alon was merely a foreign noble.

Biran was the sole direct disciple of a Master Knight.

They really do flock together.

As Alon let out a tired breath at the thought that brats really did gather in packs, Biran smiled thinly at him and continued.

“Though honestly, whichever option you choose, the result will be more or less the same.”

He raised his sword and lightly pressed it against Alon’s stomach.

“The only thing my friend asked for was this.”

“…”

Biran threatened him with complete ease.

Evan, who had been standing still up to now, slowly frowned and began moving a hand toward the sword at his waist.

Then:

“Hrk…!”

A sound came from behind them.

Alon and Biran both turned.

And Alon saw him.

Deus Makalian.

Wearing black steel armor and walking toward them with a freezing expression.

The moment he appeared, the air around the city gate grew heavy.

Only one man had arrived, yet the soldiers widened their eyes and straightened immediately, while the knights who had looked relaxed moments ago now stood stiff with tension.

“Attention…!”

The soldiers who had been idly watching the situation until then all snapped their swords up in salute the instant they saw Deus.

He did not look at them.

“We greet the Great Sword…!”

The knights of Biran’s order, Lion’s Pride, cried out with reverence.

Deus did not look at them either.

Instead, he walked straight toward Alon.

Seeing that, Biran hurriedly pulled his sword back and tried to speak.

Crunch.

“Ghk…!”

Deus’s hand closed around his throat.

“Wh-what are…!”

Biran grabbed at Deus’s arm in panic.

Then Deus spoke.

“What exactly do you think you are doing?”

The moment those words left his mouth, the color drained from Biran’s face.

“You dared lay hands on my benefactor.”