I Became the Patron of Villains (Novel) - Chapter 70 - Is It Really Fine to Do This.. (3)

Chapter 70 – Is It Really Fine to Do This…? (3)

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Translated by Jinmu

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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F-rank fighter Litanka, who had entered this battle royale, honestly thought he might be able to deal with Count Palladio.

That was not because he underestimated Alon.

No matter how ignorant he might be of the world’s affairs, dismissing Count Palladio, whose fame had already spread everywhere, would have been ridiculous.

The reason he thought so was simple.

Because the count was a mage.

By nature, mages required time to use magic.

The higher the grade of the spell, the shorter that time became, but even so, Litanka knew there was always at least a brief delay.

And he also knew that in the confined space of an arena, that delay was enough time for fighters to attack.

That was why, though he remained tense, he believed there was a chance.

In fact, once he confirmed that Count Palladio was in this battle royale, Litanka had rallied all the other fighters except the count and believed with certainty that they could bring him down.

But.

Litanka’s arrogance ended the moment Alon’s magic unfolded.

“This is insane.”

He let out an exclamation without thinking and stared blankly upward.

There, dozens of pillars of ice had become entangled into a small mountain, and from the top of that mountain the man looked down upon the fighters.

Without any emotion at all.

Only in blank indifference.

And while all the fighters stood frozen with weapons in hand, unable to make any move at all.

“Hoo.”

Exhaling white mist into the freezing cold, Alon looked at the fighters who still could not come near him and thought.

So far, exactly as expected.

Alon formed a seal.

In truth, before entering the battle royale today, he had given a great deal of thought to what magic he should use.

Because up until now he had always fought only strong opponents, most of his magic leaned more toward single-target use than area coverage.

In other words, Alon, who could only use magic six times, had long predicted that a situation like this might come, and after much thought he had decided what sort of magic he would use.

What I need here is a spell with enough force to bring down F-rank fighters while drawing out the widest possible area.

With that judgment, he arranged the magic.

“Reinforce.”

A shield formed at the center of the massive iceberg Alon had created.

“Compression.”

According to the phrase, the center of the giant iceberg compressed into the shape of a giant hemisphere.

In an instant, the center of the mountain changed into a sphere, leaving the iceberg holding a precarious form.

The spectators looked at that state and admired it in silence.

The giant sphere floating at the very middle of the iceberg made the unstable structure look like a magical work of art.

But then.

“Vacuum.”

The moment Alon opened his mouth once more, the shield that had just been compressed into the shape of a sphere of mana shrank still further.

“Return to the Origin.”

The instant Alon uttered the final words.

The iceberg exploded outward, sweeping away the fighters gathered around it.

And the snow mountain that had been maintaining its unstable shape collapsed with an enormous roar.

White dust billowed upward.

And when the white cloud finally cleared, the only one standing in the arena was.

Alon.

Alone.

After a brief long silence.

The stunned announcer quickly recovered himself and declared the result.

“Ahem. The winner of the battle royale is Palladio Alon!”

A roar like thunder began to ring in his ears.

And Alon.

If that had not ended it in one blow, this could have been dangerous.

Feeling his mana hall run nearly empty because he had used far more mana than expected by pushing the range too wide, he broke into a small cold sweat.

I really do need to practice adjusting array control more.

That added one more task to his list.

* * *

Right after the battle royale ended, on the way back to Seollang’s guild.

Just as Alon, now promoted in an instant from an F-rank fighter to a D-rank fighter with challenge rights, was thinking about which C-rank fighter he should challenge.

“My lord.”

“What is it, Evan?”

“…Yutia sent you a gift.”

“A gift?”

“Yes.”

Hearing that from Evan, who had been waiting back at the guild, Alon immediately made his way to his room and saw a staff lying on the desk.

The very Sparrow’s Staff he had intended to obtain.

“…She sent this as a gift?”

“Yes. She said you would like it, my lord.”

At Evan’s words, Alon looked over the staff in confusion, but no matter how he examined it, it really was Sparrow’s Staff.

What?

He wore a dazed look.

And with reason.

As far as he knew, Colony’s treasury and royal vault were places one could never enter unless one proved one’s qualifications as a fighter.

According to the setting, the royal family of Colony had maintained that tradition continuously ever since founding the kingdom.

That was why Alon had never even considered trying to buy the objects in the treasury with money.

So.

How did she do it?

Alon became curious what method Yutia had used to present him with Sparrow’s Staff, but only for a moment.

I will ask her next time she comes.

He set the question aside and chose instead to feel grateful.

Thanks to her obtaining Sparrow’s Staff like this, he would now be able to claim the item he had originally intended to get.

I used up all my mana today, so I cannot try it now anyway. I will test it tomorrow.

Feeling almost as though he had received a present from a daughter he had raised well, he held Sparrow’s Staff in his hand.

And then, the next day.

Just as that thing had told him, Alon poured mana into the staff.

And heard a middle-aged man’s voice ring inside his head, a voice that sounded as though it had lived the whole world in discomfort.

“I am Palladio Alon.”

“So what?”

“…I came on the recommendation of a dragonkin.”

“So what?”

A warning rang in Alon’s instincts that this conversation was going to be difficult, and his head began to ache for a moment, but he continued anyway.

“You do not seem to enjoy long conversations, so I will be direct. I heard you were a mage.”

“In a world where only morons and fools are left, it seems there is still at least one idiot remaining.”

“…The dragonkin told me that if I came to you, you would teach me your sentences and phrases. Can you do that?”

“What would you do even knowing them?”

“I intend to use them.”

At Alon’s answer, the voice inside the staff was silent for a moment, then let out a deep sigh.

“I thought you were a fool with at least a little knowledge, but it turns out you are just an empty idiot.”

The middle-aged voice continued with an openly contemptuous mutter.

“Hey, idiot. Do you think that if you know my phrases and sentences, you can just use them?”

“If I could not use them, I would not have asked you to teach me. I was told by the dragonkin that you would give them without holding anything back.”

“Do not speak of that as though it would be possible unless you were already capable of using my phrases and sentences. How could someone like you, who has not even inherited my mind-image, possibly use my sentence?”

The man in the staff spoke as though telling Alon to say something that made sense.

And just as Alon was falling silent for a moment.

“My lord!”

Suddenly Evan opened the door and stepped inside.

“What is it?”

“A challenge request has come for you.”

“From whom?”

“Apparently from an A-rank fighter. The name is Pilsion. Someone from the colosseum came and asked what answer to give.”

At Evan’s question, Alon thought with mild puzzlement.

An A-rank fighter, to me? Well, it is not impossible.

Fundamentally, a D-rank fighter could challenge someone one rank above, but an A-rank fighter could freely send challenge letters to fighters below.

Still, it was normally rare for A-rank fighters to challenge people in lower ranks.

If an A-rank fighter did not keep fighting other A-ranks, their rank could fall, and if they lost, the rank would be exchanged on the spot. The risk was too high.

But from Alon’s perspective, it was a chance to rise all the way to A-rank in one step without going through several fights.

After thinking briefly, Alon seemed to reach a decision.

“If you distrust me that much, then let us make a wager.”

Looking at the staff, he smiled.

“…A wager?”

* * *

The day after that.

Pilsion, the A-rank fighter who had issued a challenge to Count Palladio after he became a D-rank fighter, looked at the man walking out from the opposite side of the colosseum arena and thought.

As expected.

Count Palladio entered to thunderous cheers.

Watching him, Pilsion smiled.

Ordinarily, this was not a particularly good match for him.

Even if an A-rank fighter defeated Count Palladio, who was only D-rank, he would gain no honor at all. But if he lost, he would be demoted from A-rank to D-rank.

Even so, there was only one reason Pilsion had sent the challenge.

Public attention.

Count Palladio might still have been only a D-rank fighter officially, but his strength had already been proven several times through rumor.

And after the recent battle royale, his strength had effectively been proven for real, making him even more famous in Colony.

What Pilsion wanted was to defeat Alon and steal that attention.

That was because he had heard the rumor that the still-vacant Baba Yaga seat would soon be filled by the royal family’s choice from among the A-rank fighters.

In other words, for Pilsion, who had set becoming a Baba Yaga as his goal, this event was too precious a chance to miss, so he had taken a gamble. And he was confident he could defeat the count.

Naturally, Pilsion was not underestimating Count Palladio.

As he had said, there were many rumors about his strength, and he had already proven it in the colosseum as well.

No one but a fool would dare underestimate such a Count Palladio.

Especially not a fighter.

Even so, there was one reason Pilsion could be confident.

Because Count Palladio used only ice magic.

Of course, Pilsion knew that mages could use magic outside their main specialty as well.

But he also knew that if it was not their main specialty, the power of that magic dropped sharply.

Above all, before delivering the challenge letter he had thoroughly investigated the count and confirmed that he used only ice magic, which only increased his confidence.

And for good reason.

Because his own race, the flame beastfolk, could innately wield fire, which as a natural attribute strongly countered ice magic.

No matter how impressive Alon’s ice magic might be, it was bound to weaken before the high-temperature flames he produced.

So, smiling to himself.

The moment the announcer cried that the match would begin.

Pilsion unleashed flames.

Flames that made the already scorching ground boil even more poured out in all directions, drawing gasps from the audience.

At the same time, cold began rising from around Alon and swallowing the arena.

But unfortunately, Alon’s extreme cold did not reach as far as where Pilsion stood.

Just as I thought.

Pilsion twisted up his lips and drew his twin swords.

How should I handle this? Finish it instantly? No. Better to let the count use some magic first and then end him. But I should not drag it out too long. If possible, this should leave maximum impact.

Pilsion was already thinking as though he had won.

But unfortunately for him, those happy thoughts ended the moment.

Alon spoke a new sentence.

“Array of Thunder.”

And vivid blue sparks began to cover Alon’s body.