I Became the Patron of Villains (Novel) - Chapter 61 - It Was There, Though (2)

Chapter 61 – It Was There, Though (2)

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Translated by Jinmu

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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In How Did I End Up the Mastermind, Alon of I Somehow Became the King of the Underworld Just by Breathing held his dizzy head and thought.

Did I really give that kind of order? When exactly?

As he racked his brain in front of Duke Altia, who still stood with her head bowed, Alon finally let out a low sound.

“Ah.”

First, let us clean up the underworld.

Only after thinking hard did he remember that he had in fact said something like that.

No, but when someone says clean up the underworld, is this really the normal way to take it? Wouldn’t it be more natural to think it simply meant getting rid of the useless ones?

But the reason he was truly shocked was not that Duke Altia had misunderstood his words.

It was the fact that they had actually cleaned out the entire underworld of the Kingdom of Asteria.

Does that even make sense?

Of course, he knew very well that in the future Duke Altia and Count Xenonia became hidden powers of Asteria.

Even so.

Taking complete control of Asteria’s underworld like this was, in practice, nearly impossible.

Within the game, Asteria’s underworld was basically counted, together with the Kingdom of Ashtalon, as one of the largest dark forces in the Allied Kingdoms.

That was because most of the organizations operating in the shadows of the Allied Kingdoms had roots in those two places.

Which in turn meant there were truly a great many organizations in Asteria’s underworld, and taking it over was impossible unless every one of those groups was erased.

“…Did you really get rid of all of them?”

That was why he asked, just in case.

“Yes.”

Seeing her nod with absolute certainty, Alon fell silent for a moment before barely getting the words out.

“You must have gone through a great deal.”

“Not at all. It was possible because you dealt with both the Royalist faction and the Aristocratic faction, Count. Since you tied down the heads of both factions, everything became much easier.”

I did not deal with that. You did.

Alon wanted to say that, but only for a moment.

“So, just as you instructed, we conquered the underworld. What should we do now?”

At Duke Altia’s words, Alon closed his mouth.

In truth, there was no plan in his head for what came next.

The reason he had suggested cleaning up the underworld in the first place was simply because it sounded plausible and seemed like something that would buy a great deal of time.

I never imagined they would finish this so quickly.

So while he wondered what in the world he ought to say to Duke Altia.

“Should the next target be the monarch, perhaps?”

“…The monarch?”

“Yes. Our forces have grown, after all, so she should move now.”

After hearing that.

“For now, maintain the current state.”

With that order, Alon ended the communication crystal.

“…Hm.”

Then he fell silent and thought.

At this point, the king really might move personally.

Asteria was fundamentally a kingdom where the nobles handled and devoured nearly everything, but it was still, naturally, a kingdom. Which meant it had a king.

Critenia Siyan, the Eighth Monarch of Asteria.

She was the Eighth Monarch of Asteria, and despite the fact that the nobles were running wild, she neither visibly managed the state nor participated in political games, yet still held considerable authority.

The reason was the power possessed by Critenia Siyan, or more accurately, the power held only by the bloodline of Asteria’s royal house.

The Golden Chronicle Eye.

Though it was called the Golden Chronicle Eye, it was not actually a power related to the eyes.

As far as Alon knew, the name merely came from the clear golden eyes royal family members were born with. The inherited ability itself was quite simple.

The ability to pass power down through generations.

Like carrying over save data in a game, the power itself could be handed directly to the next generation. The explanation was simple, but that special power was correspondingly formidable.

As generations passed, it granted enough power that the royal family could maintain royal authority without even bothering to participate in political struggles.

And on top of that, it naturally made the nobles watch their step and avoid crossing the line.

As far as the setting goes, Critenia Siyan simply does not move because she finds it bothersome.

Alon briefly recalled the indifferent, almost affectless expression he had seen in the game’s illustrations and continued thinking.

At this scale, I might receive some pressure. But considering the monarch’s personality, she might also just let it pass.

He recalled the way she behaved in the game whenever she appeared.

Basically, unless one of the Five Calamities descended on Asteria, she was a complete noninterventionist.

When one of the Five Calamities descended on Asteria, she would briefly join the player’s party and display absurd martial strength, but apart from that she was indifferent to what happened in her kingdom.

She was so indifferent that among Psychedelia players, there was effectively a running joke that she was less the monarch and more some kind of guardian dragon of the kingdom.

So Alon decided to put his mind at ease.

But on the very next day.

While he was eating a roasted sweet potato and thinking again about the being that had whispered to him during the battle against the Outer God, a question he still could not answer no matter how much he considered it.

Who was the one that whispered to me then?

Evan interrupted him.

“My lord. Another sweet potato?”

“Do you want one?”

“…If there are leftovers, yes. More importantly, an important letter has arrived.”

That unexpected interruption dragged Alon out of his thoughts.

“An important letter?”

“Yes.”

Brushing the snow from the top of his head, Evan brought him a single letter.

A letter bearing the royal seal of Asteria.

“This is…”

“Apparently, one month from now, when the new year begins, the palace will hold a grand ball for the first time in five years. And.”

“There is more?”

“…This was conveyed by the secretary who delivered the letter, but Her Majesty said she very much hopes Count Palladio will attend in person.”

“……”

At Evan’s words, Alon let out a low, drawn-out breath.

So she did move after all.

And exactly one month after receiving that royal letter.

Just as the mana intoxication that had taken a full five months to treat had finally completely healed, and while Alon was once again wondering whether he needed to find some way to compensate for his pitifully small mana reserves.

“My lord.”

“Yes.”

Alon climbed into the carriage heading for the royal palace to attend the ball.

I will stop by the royal palace first, then the desert, then the labyrinth on the way back.

It was his first real outing in a long time.

And it promised to be a long trip.

* * *

In a dark cavern near Caliburn, three men and women stood together.

One was a man wrapped head to toe in bandages covered in strange symbols.

Another was a woman with grotesque circuit-like tattoos over half of her face.

And the last was a man carrying two kama on his back.

“Salgwi, Juryeong. Are all the preparations finished?”

The last of the three looked at the other two and spoke.

“What is there to prepare? We are going with just the three of us. That means we are ready.”

Juryeong, the woman, shrugged with an easy expression.

“Same here. Why would we need preparation?”

The man called Salgwi replied in the same relaxed tone.

“Even so, prepare. Just in case.”

“Wow. So you can say timid things too, boss? For someone who has killed royalty several times and more than two Sword Masters, aren’t you being way too scared?”

Juryeong giggled.

“Well, I did hear that Deus Makalian is a little unusual. They say he beat Reinhardt.”

“Even so. The three of us together could kill Reinhardt too.”

The man listened to them and let out a light sigh.

If anyone else had said things like that he would have laughed, but because he knew their records well, he did not think they were being arrogant.

Everyone here was strong enough to have killed at least one Master Knight-class opponent alone.

Even so, carelessness had to be avoided.

“Do not let your guard down too much. If he defeated Reinhardt, that means he is stronger than Reinhardt.”

At those words, Salgwi and Juryeong hesitated, and the playful smiles they had been wearing disappeared.

“Well, all right. If you insist that strongly.”

“Then let us finish this as quickly as possible.”

“It is not a frontal battle anyway. It is an ambush. If we move as quietly as possible, we may be able to deal with it without even engaging in open combat.”

Listening to the now-serious exchange between Juryeong and Salgwi, the man quietly infiltrated Kirdam, the capital of Caliburn, and headed for the central district where Deus resided.

Not long after that, the three Proxies entered Deus’s estate.

And then.

“Who are you?”

“”!””

The moment they infiltrated the estate, they saw Deus Makalian standing there with Blue Moon behind him.

The Proxies all frowned at the sight of Deus Makalian appearing at a moment none of them had even noticed.

Failing to sense his presence meant they could just as easily have been ambushed.

And despite that, he had appeared openly in front of them instead of springing an ambush, which meant that as a Master Knight capable of measuring his opponents, Deus was openly looking down on them.

Juryeong frowned and asked.

“Are you sure it is wise to show yourself so easily? That might have been your last chance to live.”

“An assassin?”

But Deus only asked back as though he had no interest at all.

“Suppose we are?”

“I see.”

Juryeong had already tensed and was beginning to smile fiercely, but Deus remained calm even in front of her.

“Then I will simply kill you.”

He merely made that declaration flatly as he swung his sword.

And then.

Exactly five minutes later.

The three Proxies were all staring at Deus in shock.

Contrary to their expectation that they would capture a single Master Knight without taking any damage.

Even though the fight was three against one, they had only barely managed to fight him to a draw.

No, if anything, they were gradually being pushed back.

What kind of monster is this bastard?

The man looked at Deus as though the situation was absurd and wore an expression that said he could not understand it at all.

As far as he knew, Deus Makalian had become a Master Knight only around two or three years earlier, and his level had not been particularly high.

That was why, when the rumor spread that he had recently defeated Reinhardt, he had assumed luck must have played a part.

But in this moment he realized it.

That had been the foolish misunderstanding of a fool.

So.

“…Let us negotiate.”

The man made the proposal.

“Negotiate?”

“Yes. From the beginning, our target was not you, but Count Palladio.”

Of course, they already knew that the relationship between Count Palladio and Deus was a close one.

Even so, the man revealed that fact without hesitation because of the present situation.

No matter how monstrous he is, if the three of us throw ourselves in prepared to die, he knows he will have to face death as well.

The man glanced over Deus’s body.

There were no major wounds, but several minor cuts were visible here and there.

That meant Deus was not in a state where he could afford complete ease in this fight either.

No matter how much of a benefactor someone is, things change once your own life is on the line.

“If you hand over the information we demand about Count Palladio, we will withdraw as we are. We will also never come for you again. But if you refuse.”

The man added in a voice sunk to the very bottom.

“Our comrades will hunt you day and night.”

It was an openly naked threat, but the man said no more.

He knew well that there was no need to explain further to someone who had reached the level of being able to see power with his own eyes.

And then.

He noticed it only after that.

“?”

The man stared blankly ahead.

The scene before him had not changed much.

But there was one thing.

Threads?

Clear violet threads, shining beneath the blue moon, had somehow entered his field of vision.

Like a spiderweb, those lines filled the entire estate.

No, they filled his entire field of sight.

And those lines were wrapped around his own body, around Salgwi’s body, and around Juryeong’s body.

At that moment.

“What.”

“What is this?!”

Everyone there began to move.

Salgwi raised the axe in his hands.

Juryeong raised the kama in her right hand.

The man raised the sword he held in his left hand.

And they all began pressing their own weapons against their own throats.

“You damned.”

“Stop. Stop!”

“Aaaaagh!”

The intruders all struggled desperately, wearing looks of utter shock, trying somehow to move bodies they could no longer control.

But already wrapped in those violet threads, they moved like puppets controlled by a puppeteer, and they pushed the weapons aimed at their throats in without regard for their own will.

“No. No, damn it. No!”

“Please. Pleaaaase!”

The intruders screamed in terror.

And then.

They ended their own lives with their own hands.

Red blood ran along the violet threads.

And the very last thing the man, who had also stabbed his own throat, saw at the end of his life was.

“Do not say something like that in front of me.”

A pair of chillingly shining purple eyes.