I Became the Patron of Villains (Novel) - Chapter 32 - What Is a Duel Meant to Protect (4)

Chapter 32 – What Is a Duel Meant to Protect? (4)

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Translated by Jinmu

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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A little more than two weeks later.

The return had been slower than expected because of the wounded, but they had finally reached Kirdam, the capital of Caliburn, and been greeted by thunderous cheers from the citizens.

Wherever one looked, the people were smiling brightly and shouting with overflowing pride.

The expedition ended when the knights and soldiers, with Deus at their head, entered the royal palace and delivered their report that the Outer God had been slain.

As for Alon.

“I should be on my way.”

He immediately prepared to leave again.

From his point of view, there was no reason to remain in Caliburn once the Outer God had vanished.

I already got plenty of gifts, too.

He cast a satisfied glance toward the carriage.

The king of Caliburn, having heard the report of the battle, had very sensibly sent over a large number of presents in hopes of establishing a relationship.

After regarding the somewhat excessive haul with quiet satisfaction beneath his blank expression, Alon turned to Deus.

“Then I’ll see you again another time.”

It was the sort of casual line a Korean might use like Let’s have a meal sometime. He had just begun to turn away when Deus, for the first time in his life, asked a question of his own.

“May I ask one thing?”

Alon paused and turned back.

“What is it?”

For almost a month, from the start of the northern expedition until their return to the capital, Deus had done little but intensify his demonstrations of respect. He had asked almost nothing.

Alon waited.

After a short silence, Deus spoke.

“Can I become stronger too?”

The question felt abrupt enough that Alon actually looked puzzled.

Deus was already strong.

After a little thought, Alon reached what seemed to him the obvious conclusion.

The magic I used against the Outer God must have made more of an impression on him than I thought.

With that interpretation in mind, he answered:

“Of course you can become stronger.”

“…I can?”

“Yes. If you continue to work for it, you can reach whatever strength you desire.”

“Really?”

“…Yes. Really.”

Deus’s eyes widened. Alon answered him in mild confusion.

He was not lying.

The Five Great Sins, Deus included, possessed broken abilities even before any god descended.

In Deus’s case, he could probably reach Swordmaster purely through the sword even without using his innate power. And if he had already come this far in a single year, getting stronger was only a matter of time.

As Alon laid the matter out in his head like that, he was forced once again to admit how monstrously gifted Deus was.

And, for no useful reason at all, that made him a little bitter.

It would have been nice to reincarnate into a body with this much talent.

With that pointless thought drifting by, he said:

“So don’t worry about it.”

“Understood.”

“Then I’ll be going.”

“…One more thing, if I may?”

“…What now?”

Alon had only half turned away. Deus spoke again.

“Why do you always ask instead of command?”

“…?”

Behind his blank expression, Alon was thoroughly confused.

Then he roughly pieced together what Deus meant.

He thinks all the support I’ve given was for some calculated purpose?

To be fair, there had been a purpose. He had wanted to prevent the descent of the Five Great Sins.

But aside from that, the reason Alon had poured blood-earned money and gifts into them all this time had still been simple goodwill.

Admittedly, goodwill entangled with apocalyptic risk, but goodwill nonetheless.

And so, feeling a little unjustly aggrieved that Deus seemed to doubt his sincerity, Alon answered in a way that he hoped would make that sincerity clear.

“Who gives orders to family?”

With that, he exchanged final farewells with Deus and climbed into the carriage bound for Asteria.

* * *

That night.

Deus sat alone in his office, staring up at the moon in silence.

He let out a low breath.

The reason had nothing to do with the work on his desk or the burdens waiting for him tomorrow.

He was sighing because during this expedition he had finally recognized his own ignorance.

Until now, Deus had thought himself strong enough.

The innate power he had inherited from birth was so formidable that even Yutia had praised it highly.

On top of that, the talent with the sword he had gained under the Great Moon’s guidance surpassed even Reinhardt, the greatest First Sword of Caliburn, and Deus knew it.

There had been no way not to know it.

The awe and praise that had followed him while he climbed to the rank of Master Knight faster than anyone in history made ignorance impossible.

And so, until recently, he had vaguely believed something.

That the strength he now possessed was enough to take revenge on the black things.

And even if it was not, the rest would come in time through his talent for the sword.

That was what he had thought.

Until he met an Outer God.

The Outer God.

Or rather, its strength.

It had shocked him.

A thing that could constrict a person’s throat and pour fear into them merely by standing there had made Deus understand with painful clarity that he was a frog in a well.

And he had felt that even more intensely when he looked at the Great Moon.

His thoughts returned to that moment.

The Great Moon standing beneath the sunset, using magic against the Outer God.

And the two eyes behind him.

Naturally, Deus had no idea what they were.

The only things he understood were that the two eyes belonged to entirely different beings, and that the Great Moon was drawing on their power.

But beyond that, he grasped one thing instinctively.

Those were not things one was even meant to perceive.

Trying to understand them was itself forbidden.

He had known it the moment he saw them.

Not as an inference.

As an instinctive certainty.

As natural as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.

As natural as every living thing being born and then dying.

And realizing that filled Deus with a quiet shame.

Unlike Penia, who seemed to have understood the Great Moon’s strength all along, Deus had perceived none of it.

He had thought the Great Moon weak.

To his senses, all Alon had ever seemed to possess was a little mana.

But that had only been Deus’s ignorance.

While Deus himself had frozen before the Outer God and failed to resist in any meaningful way, the Great Moon had stood before it as though it were the most natural thing in the world, challenged it, and destroyed it.

In other words, Deus had gone north to repay his benefactor and had ended up only receiving yet another debt instead.

Just as always.

This can’t continue.

He had been thinking that ever since the expedition began its return.

And yet despite thinking it dozens of times, the thought had never progressed any further.

Because of doubt.

Doubt in himself.

After seeing the Outer God.

After seeing the Great Moon, the benefactor he was supposed to repay and now sincerely revered.

Deus had begun to doubt whether he could ever reach that height.

He knew his talent was absurd.

And yet the strength displayed by the Outer God and the Great Moon had been enough to crush that very talent into nothing.

That was why, until today, he had done nothing but repeat the same question to himself.

But today that doubt ended.

“Of course you can become stronger.”

“Yes. If you continue to work for it, you can reach whatever strength you desire.”

“Yes. Really.”

He recalled Alon’s voice.

The Great Moon had spoken without emotion.

But also without the slightest hesitation.

He had said that Deus possessed the talent to become strong enough to kill the black things.

That with effort, he could rise to that place.

Those words, spoken so effortlessly and with such absolute certainty, gave Deus what nothing else had managed to give him.

Conviction.

I have to become stronger.

He clenched his fist.

More.

At last, the thought that had stood still began to move.

I will take revenge on the black things.

The vague idea sharpened into certainty.

And that certainty branched into more concrete goals.

For the first time, the frog inside the well gained confidence enough to step out into the world.

And to become worthy of serving as the Great Moon’s sword.

A new reason had been added to his resolve.

Family.

The final word the Great Moon had left him with warmed his heart whenever he thought of it.

He treated it like a talisman.

Under the blue moonlight in the dark office, Deus quietly began preparing to truly move forward.

A little while later, he lifted his left hand and stretched it forward.

The Great Moon did it like this.

Just as Alon had done while facing the Outer God, Deus pressed his middle and ring fingers together and extended his hand. After briefly spreading his mana to make sure no one was nearby, he murmured:

“Silent Line.”

He flicked his fingers.

Naturally, nothing happened.

And yet, in that empty room, after imitating what Alon had done, Deus sat back down with a strange expression that mixed slight embarrassment with private satisfaction.

If only I had talent for magic like his.

The thought passed through his mind.

.

.

.

And at that exact same time.

“Count.”

“What?”

“You really do like sweet potatoes.”

“They’re good.”

Alon replied while sitting by a fire, roasting and eating sweet potatoes.

They really were excellent.

* * *

It was not until late at night, about a month later, that Alon finally arrived back at House Palladio.

Long trip.

It had been roughly three months since he had left, and the thought crossed his mind plainly enough.

Objectively speaking, not much had happened on the return from Caliburn.

The most annoying part had probably been Evan repeatedly failing to suppress his curiosity about Alon’s strength and pestering him with questions every other day.

Aside from that, the only notable development was that a rumor had begun slowly spreading among the kingdoms that Count Palladio of Asteria had played a major role in slaying the Outer God in Caliburn.

In any case, after such a long journey, Alon wanted to rest.

There was still plenty he had to do.

He needed to go to Colony.

He needed to investigate several new things.

The black one. The blue one.

Why Outer Gods were appearing at all.

Why Ultultus had possessed a true name.

There was a lot to look into.

And yet, despite that, he chose rest.

That was because, from the beginning, Alon’s actual goal had always been to live as a leisurely noble.

Studying magic was enjoyable, yes. But even that had always been about self-preservation rather than grand ambition.

In other words, all of this effort was meant to secure a comfortable life.

So from Alon’s perspective, after what he had been through, the correct reward was rest, even if only a short one.

So once he got home, he planned to spend about a week doing nothing at all.

There were, however, a few delayed tasks to clear from his desk first, and that was why he sat down in his office almost immediately upon returning.

Then he unfolded the stack of letters from Yutia that had accumulated while he was away.

And made a very small, blank sound.

“…Eh?”

He called for Evan at once.

“Evan.”

“Yes.”

“In Rosaria, where does the rank of cardinal sit?”

“Cardinal…? If we’re being practical, just below the pope and the saint. Why?”

“…Yutia says she became one.”

“…What?”

Yutia had become a cardinal of the Holy Kingdom of Rosaria.