I Became the Patron of Villains (Novel) - Chapter 56 - King of Hungry Ghosts (1)

Chapter 56 – King of Hungry Ghosts (1)

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Translated by Jinmu

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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Alon knew the character Myaon better than he knew most of the other mercenaries.

In Psychedelia, if one visited the labyrinth and cleared enough of it, she became a companion character who could be recruited into the protagonist’s party.

And in the early days of playing the game, when Myaon would often join as a high-level companion even in low-level sections, Alon had recruited her frequently and seen several of her personal events.

“….”

Even so, this proposal was so unexpected that Alon remained silent.

“Any interest?”

Myaon sent him a suggestive smile.

“So suddenly…?”

Alon slowly asked back after briefly looking at her appearance, which had not faded at all despite the scars on her face.

“Suddenly? This is already the third time we’ve met.”

Myaon twitched her catlike ears and continued.

“That should be enough for us to understand each other. I understand that you’re strong too.”

“Ah.”

At her words, Alon let out a low sound of realization. Only then did his frozen thoughts begin moving again.

Because he finally guessed why she had made that suggestion.

Come to think of it, Myaon’s tribe did have a culture of worshiping strength.

It was an old memory, so he had only now remembered it clearly, but her tribe did have the habit of revering the strong.

And if I remember right, that meant they were strongly attracted to anyone stronger than themselves.

Alon looked over the many scars on Myaon’s body, scars that practically served as proof of the tribe she belonged to, and then spoke.

“Sorry, but I have to decline the offer.”

“Hm?”

At Alon’s answer, Myaon looked a little disappointed.

But then.

She let out a sigh so suddenly that it was hard to believe she had been making such an expression only a moment before.

“Well, I guess it can’t be helped. Ah, I really did get my heart racing when you put me down in one shot, though….”

Despite her disappointed tone, the expression on Myaon’s face looked more like that of a salesperson who had failed to close a deal.

Looking at her, Alon found himself thinking again.

I knew beastfolk and humans think very differently, but even so… this part is definitely something else.

While Alon was thinking that.

“Hmm. Still, just in case, if you change your mind, tell me. I’d say I’m pretty attractive.”

Like a salesperson promising to return next time, Myaon said only what she wanted and then left.

“…Shall I deal with her, Godfather?”

As Alon watched her blankly, Rine’s voice, silent until now, reached him.

“…Eh? Is there really a need?”

“She said vulgar things to you, Godfather.”

Rine spoke in a cool tone without taking her eyes off Myaon, who was already some distance away, and Alon pressed his lips together.

You’re saying you want to kill her just for talking like that?

Once again he realized that there was someone around him even stranger than Myaon.

So he immediately answered.

“There’s no need for that. She didn’t really harm me.”

“Yes.”

Rine nodded at once and turned her gaze away.

This feels… strange somehow.

Alon tilted his head at the sense that the treatment Rine gave him felt even more excessive than what he got from Deus or Seollang.

Then.

“Break is over. Everyone move.”

At Argonia’s sharp declaration that the rest period had ended, Alon stopped thinking about it, rose, and began walking down into the darkness again.

* * *

About a day later.

After spending a night in the abyss-like labyrinth and continuing onward, the Outer God subjugation force was still working its way through the fourth floor.

I expected it, but it’s still different from the game.

Alon clicked his tongue softly at the fact that even after more than a full day they had only reached the fourth floor.

Even accounting for the fact that moving such a large force meant they could not use side paths and floor transitions were inevitably slower, the difference between the game and reality was still enormous.

In the game, once certain monsters were dealt with, the player naturally moved on to the next floor.

Here, monsters emerged endlessly from the abyssal dark, and dealing with them alone was taking more than a day.

I should never enter the labyrinth again.

With that, Alon made the same resolution again and looked around.

The mercenaries who had traveled through the labyrinth many times seemed used to this abyss-like darkness and were even joking from time to time, but for Alon this place had already become somewhere he never wanted to return to.

There are some good items for a mage around the fortieth floor.

He briefly recalled that information from the game, but soon decided cleanly to give up on them.

Even getting to the fifth floor had taken more than a day. So how long would reaching the fortieth take?

It was not hard to see it would require an absurd amount of time.

After some time passed.

“The fifth floor is just ahead.”

While moving blankly onward, Alon turned at a mercenary’s voice from the front and saw a glowing door in the distance that looked almost like the exit of the labyrinth.

Not long after, they finally reached the fifth floor.

“…The fifth floor.”

Alon murmured expressionlessly.

But that was only on the surface. Behind that blank expression, he was startled.

Because this place had a sky above it.

A remarkably clear-looking sky, at that.

“….”

And beneath it stretched a blue meadow and old ruins left to decay with age.

Looking at that, Alon thought.

This too feels completely different from how it looked in the game.

More precisely, the scenery itself was similar to the game, but the feeling of actually reaching it was somehow different.

If the fifth floor in the game had been little more than a save point where one rested, here it felt genuinely peaceful.

For a brief moment, that strange peace eased the fatigue in his heart.

Then.

“All right. After a short rest, we begin preparations at once.”

At Argonia’s words, Alon recalled the purpose he had briefly forgotten and slowly reviewed the plan.

Hoping the operation would proceed as intended.

* * *

Immediately after the Outer God subjugation force reached the fifth floor, the mercenaries took a very short break, then rose and began preparing in earnest according to Alon’s instructions.

And.

“…Tch.”

Watching their orderly movements, Maverick clicked his tongue shortly and turned his gaze.

The one he looked at was Alon.

“….”

To be honest, Maverick still did not like him very much.

No matter how he looked, Alon did not seem very strong.

This is a guy who starts breathing hard just from walking through the labyrinth. What exactly is so special about him?

Maverick recalled what Argonia and Hyman had said a few days ago.

More precisely, he recalled the state they had been in at the time.

Both of them had been sweating coldly and holding their breath in silence.

I still don’t see what they saw.

Maverick looked Alon over again and again, but still could not find anything special. Wearing a puzzled expression, he turned his gaze away.

Then.

“…Hm?”

At the same time, he felt a strange question arise.

Something very minor.

Yet something mixed with a sense of déjà vu.

He thought on it for a moment, and only after turning his head did he realize what that lingering sensation was.

“….”

It was sound.

All the noise his subordinates had been making while busily preparing Alon’s plan had vanished.

As if time had stopped.

Only then did Maverick sense that something was wrong and look toward the mercenaries.

And then he found the source of the other strange sensation.

The mercenaries.

A moment ago they had been joking with one another while continuing their work.

Now they had all stopped.

Like dolls.

Frozen in exactly the positions they had been in while preparing the plan.

As Maverick opened his mouth at the bad feeling rising inside him.

Their bodies slid apart.

As though in slow motion.

The bodies of the mercenaries slumped diagonally from their lower halves and collapsed to the ground.

Blood sprayed out and dyed the ruins and green meadow red.

And then.

“!”

Maverick widened his eyes and saw it.

A goblin standing there calmly in front of the fallen mercenaries.

He stared blankly, seized by an irresistible force, and the moment his eyes met the emotionless gaze of the goblin, he understood several things at once.

The goblin before him had killed his men.

The goblin before him was the Outer God this expedition had come to kill.

He needed to draw his sword immediately.

Yet despite knowing all of that.

He could do nothing.

He could not shout in rage.

He could not draw his sword.

He could not even call for support.

Not a single thing.

The being before him wore the shape of a goblin, a kind he had killed thousands of times.

And yet paradoxically, he felt it too instinctively.

This was not a goblin.

The goblin’s, no, its intelligent eyes met Maverick’s.

And he immediately understood the emotions held within them.

Infinite ennui and arrogance.

Ennui, as though this situation stirred no feeling in it at all.

And arrogance, as though it looked down on everything from above.

After glimpsing those fragments.

“Who gave you permission to meet my gaze?”

It pronounced sentence.

Its finger rose.

Slowly.

But certainly.

Pointing at Maverick as if clearly designating the death that was coming.

And then.

The moment Maverick shut his eyes in terror as that finger was about to flick lightly.

“Extreme Cold.”

An emotionless voice sounded.

Craaaack.

The earth froze.

Ice crystals stretched out greedily over the grass like waves, as if they intended to swallow all the world, freezing everything around them.

“Crystal.”

Krrrnk.

With a horrifying sound, like something being twisted and wrung out.

“Pull yourself together.”

At that voice, Maverick opened his eyes.

What he saw was this.

A black coat flapping in the frost wind.

Gray-white mana flowing from one left hand like smoke.

A crescent-shaped mass of frozen ice.

And beyond it, a goblin, no, that thing, raising one brow.

And between them stood a single man.

Count Palladio.

“….”

Maverick could only stare blankly at that back, as though spellbound.