I Became the Patron of Villains (Novel) - Chapter 64 - It Was There, Though (5)

Chapter 64 – It Was There, Though (5)

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

Translated by Jinmu

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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

The nobles’ faces filled with confusion.

The nobles who had followed behind Alon likewise wore bewildered expressions.

And the nobles who had expected the growth of Kalpa to be checked by the monarch were also flustered and horrified.

But they were not the only ones wearing such expressions.

“…??”

Alon himself, the very person who had just heard those words from Critenia Siyan, was also showing open confusion about what in the world was happening.

Marquis?

For a noble, a title carried a great many meanings.

It was close to a social rank, and the title of marquis in particular placed far more power in one’s hands than the countship Alon currently possessed.

From territory, to the number of private soldiers one could raise, to many other practical matters.

And in noble society, there would be no sense of incongruity in a marquis serving as the head of a faction.

Alon was already the head of Kalpa despite only being a count, but that was what made it unusual. According to the normal rules of noble society, a mere count sitting in the leader’s seat was impossible.

It was, in effect, a bizarre structure.

But if Critenia Siyan now elevated his title to marquis, that bizarre structure of Kalpa would be resolved immediately.

Which meant that Critenia Siyan was not checking Kalpa at all.

She was helping it.

What is this?

Alon could only look up at her in a daze.

But Siyan herself, still resting her chin on one hand at ease, spoke.

“I heard the story. They say you exterminated all those things in the shadows that were gnawing away at Asteria. This is your reward for that.”

Her voice rang out calmly.

It was certainly a statement that made sense on the surface, but that did not dispel the question.

There was no reason whatsoever for her to reward him according to such logic.

This feels more like she is using this incident as a pretext to elevate me to marquis.

Alon looked at the monarch.

Does she simply have the confidence that even if Kalpa grows, she can crush it whenever she wishes?

A rational assumption rose in his mind for a moment.

He stared at her face as if perhaps he might somehow read her thoughts, but there was nothing there except that severe indifference. Not even a fragment of emotion could be found.

And then.

“Why? Do you dislike it?”

At Siyan’s question, Alon belatedly came back to himself.

“That is not the case, Your Majesty.”

He lowered his head and answered.

At that, Siyan rose from the throne wearing the faintest smile, the first she had shown until now.

Step by step.

With light footsteps, she came to stand before Alon.

Then she bent down, met the eyes of Alon, who had at some point raised his head, and pressed one finger against the right corner of his mouth, dragging it to the side.

“…?”

Because of Siyan’s finger, Alon wound up making an expression with only one corner of his lips raised.

It was an odd expression no matter who looked at it.

But the one who had made that expression merely smiled slightly and said.

“Smile. You look rather good that way.”

With those words, she removed the finger that had been poking at his cheek.

Then, as though highly satisfied, the monarch looked at the dazed Alon with the light of her Golden Chronicle Eye shining.

“I shall retire now, so all of you may enjoy the banquet.”

Having said that, she turned her body as if she no longer had any business at the ball.

The enormous doors opened and shut.

And silence flowed through the ballroom.

Staring blankly at the place where she had gone.

Alon could only become even more bewildered.

What was that?

* * *

After the monarch departed.

The ballroom, which had been steeped in a long silence, slowly regained its liveliness.

The only difference from moments before was that the nobles who were smiling had now completely reversed.

The Royalist nobles and Aristocratic nobles, who had expected Kalpa to be decisively checked today, all wore expressions like the world had ended.

By contrast, the nobles who had entered the ballroom following Alon were all beaming broadly and freely praising themselves for having chosen the right line to stand in.

And.

Alon, who had in effect become the protagonist of the entire banquet.

“My sincere congratulations, Count!”

“Now now, Count? He will soon be a marquis!”

“Ah, that is true. A slip of the tongue.”

While being surrounded by nobles flattering him with enthusiasm whether he responded or not.

And while also receiving the mistaken and burdensome gazes of Duke Altia and Count Xenonia, who looked at him with expressions of renewed admiration.

“As expected, Count Palladio, no, Marquis Palladio is truly extraordinary.”

“Indeed. To think that at some point you had already reached the monarch herself.”

At some point? I do not know either, really.

With a confused expression, Alon turned his gaze toward the door through which Siyan had departed.

What is this?

He recalled one by one everything he originally knew about Critenia Siyan, the Eighth Monarch of Asteria.

But no matter how many times he reviewed it, Critenia Siyan was not the kind of person who would do something like that.

She may not care much for state affairs, but if she judged something to be a threat to royal authority, she was the sort who would cut it off without hesitation. And what in the world was that smile?

Alon thought of the smile she had shown earlier.

As far as he knew, Siyan was a character who never once appeared smiling in any illustration or narrative in Psychedelia.

In terms of personality, that meant she was a textbook detached character.

Something is strange.

And just as Alon tilted his head, realizing that something was indeed going strangely.

One noble standing off to a side, Marquis Philvoid, was staring at him from among the others.

Count Palladio.

Marquis Philvoid ground his teeth unconsciously.

Half a year ago he had knelt before the count like that, yet was still dragged to the Holy Kingdom, where, though not as badly as Duke Rimgrave, he was locked in a strange cell and subjected to something close enough to torture for about a month.

Because of that, he had been looking forward greatly to what would happen today.

He too had believed that Alon would pay the price for carelessly swelling the size of his faction.

But contrary to his expectations, the monarch instead awarded him a marquisate, as though recognizing his faction.

How in the world?

Grinding his teeth as he looked at Alon, Marquis Philvoid let out a deep sigh.

At this point, after matters had already developed like this, there was nothing he himself could do.

But that did not mean he was going to do nothing after already suffering revenge once.

If it has come to this, I have no choice but to meet those people.

As if having made up his mind, Marquis Philvoid turned on a hardened face and began walking somewhere.

* * *

Five days later.

Just as Alon, after spending an entire week at the banquet, had sampled every snack laid out and begun thinking that he wanted to leave for Colony soon.

Marquis Philvoid had already departed on the very first day and was traveling toward Pakason, one of the territories of the nearby Kingdom of Ashtalon.

Ordinarily he would have had to be cautious because such behavior could not help but draw attention, but the current him was fine.

The moment he had once been dragged away to the Holy Kingdom, he had already lost most of his political power and was no longer the head of any faction.

That meant that no nobles paid attention to Marquis Philvoid now that he was a tiger that had lost its fangs, so he was able to reach his destination without caring about anyone’s gaze.

And.

The place he headed for upon arriving at Pakason was the entrance leading underground into a slum near the territory.

“Hoo.”

After letting out a breath and looking at the blatantly gloomy entrance below, he shut his mouth firmly and stepped toward it.

That was because he had heard that the Proxy he intended to meet, one who would kill any noble or royal so long as the proper price was paid, was here.

So once he went down below.

“Tch.”

Though he frowned at the sight of the gambling den, full of noisy voices and biting smoke, he kept walking.

The one he sought would be farther inside.

After moving deeper into the gambling den, he recited the password to the man blocking the way, then opened without hesitation the tightly shut door at the very end of the corridor.

And then.

“…?”

“Hm?”

Inside the opened room, Marquis Philvoid saw a girl.

No, more precisely.

A girl with dazzling blond hair and an innocent expression.

And beside that girl.

A headless corpse sprawled on the floor, utterly mangled.

Marquis Philvoid frowned slightly, but did not recoil and flee in shock.

Before coming here, he had been told by the man who introduced him to this place about the grotesque traits of the Proxy in front of him.

I had heard she was a savage beastkin who enjoyed playing with corpses, but this is more revolting than I expected.

Marquis Philvoid quickly smoothed out the crease in his brow.

He had come here to commission the Proxy before him.

“Who are you?”

That voice came from the Proxy just as Philvoid steadied himself.

At the innocent voice full of pure curiosity, Philvoid came to his senses and briefly wore a curious look.

Though there really was a corpse there, the Proxy’s appearance was quite different from what he had expected.

But only for a moment.

He opened his mouth.

“I have come to place a request.”

“A request?”

“That is right. I have come to commission the assassination of Count Palladio.”

Remembering what his introducer had said, that this person disliked circling around the point, the marquis stated the request plainly at once.

And then.

A chill ran through him.

“Heh.”

The marquis became certain that the beastkin before him truly was a Proxy.

The moment he brought up the target of the commission, the face that had been smiling so innocently until then.

Twisted upward in amusement.

And yet at the same time.

“So. You are saying you came here to commission the assassination of Count Palladio?”

Her eyes became endlessly cold.

Facing those chilling golden eyes, cold enough to make him hold his breath, the marquis felt his knees weaken and swallowed dryly.

“That is correct.”

At his answer, Seollang, her blond hair swaying, nodded several times.

“I see. Then what should we do?”

“What do you mean?”

“The person who could accept your request is here right now.”

At the strange statement, Marquis Philvoid lowered his gaze in the direction her gauntleted finger was pointing.

And upon seeing that her finger was pointing at the headless corpse on the floor.

“Ah.”

He finally realized something had gone very wrong, and let out a low sound.