I Became the Patron of Villains (Novel) - Chapter 74 - The Pirate King of Laxas (1)

Chapter 74 – The Pirate King of Laxas (1)

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Translated by Jinmu

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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About one week and five days after leaving Colony.

“Then I hope to see you again next time, Count.”

“Very well.”

Leaving behind the caravan master, who bowed deeply in a formal fold-over greeting, Alon decided to return to House Palladio first.

Because he could not keep dragging along the treasure wagons he had received in Colony during the coming journey.

So he returned to the count’s estate, pushed both wagons inside, and immediately set out again toward Lartania.

If the road to Lartania had been completely opposite from the road to Laxas, he would have gone straight to his destination without hesitation.

Fortunately, Lartania lay along the road to Laxas.

Of course, even as a waypoint it was not the shortest path, so he still had to make a detour to some degree, but he accepted that willingly and left once more.

Five days passed like that.

“My lord.”

As Alon blankly watched the endlessly continuing forest, Evan, who was driving the carriage, suddenly asked.

“What is it?”

“It is nothing major, but you seem troubled lately.”

“Do I look that way?”

“Yes. Recently, you often sink into thought.”

At Evan’s words, Alon was silent for a moment, then answered.

“That seems to be true.”

“Is it because of that thing from before? The one you said you had to think about?”

At Evan’s words, Alon thought.

That is one thing I am curious about.

But the reason he had been lost in thought lately was not faith itself.

Of course he too was very curious why a vessel capable of containing rank had appeared in him.

Still, this matter was one for which he lacked far too much information to solve through private thought or inference.

So Alon’s current focus was not faith, but the dragonkin’s final words.

Two possibilities.

He recalled the dragonkin speaking about magic at that time.

As you know, magic made by mages can fundamentally only be used when one has a mind-image.

That is an immutable law and truth, as natural and fixed as the sun rising and setting. Yet you ignore that as if it were nothing.

He recalled the dragonkin unfolding two fingers, index and middle, with a sharpness unlike human hands.

That law is unchanging. It cannot be altered, and must not be altered. So in my view, you fall into one of two cases.

First, the you standing here may be an inhuman being on a level I cannot imagine.

Second, you may simply not remember.

That is my conclusion. Think on it.

Recalling the dragonkin that had seen him off with those words, Alon clicked his tongue lightly.

No matter how I think about it, neither seems right.

Naturally, Alon was not some inhuman entity.

If he were what the dragonkin described, he would not have been struggling like this in the first place.

But even so, the other suggestion, memory, also did not resonate with him at all.

He had never lived through the age of the forgotten gods when mages were said to exist.

Even in the game, that age had appeared only as setting text.

Babylonia’s phrases and hand seals had been presented merely as means of strengthening magic attack power, and their background setting had never truly been unpacked.

In other words, the reason Alon knew even a little about mind-images was only because of his conversation with the dragonkin.

Because of that, at first he had asked whether there might be another possibility besides those two.

But the dragonkin had answered firmly that there would be no other possibility.

The longer time passes, the less things are clarified, and the more unknown facts pile up.

Alon gave a short sigh, then shrugged.

If the dragonkin was right, then once he reached Laxas, he would eventually be able to see the truth of this world.

Of course, for him, looking into the truth of the world was less important than judging whether that truth meant a crisis would descend on the world.

Just as before, his original goal, a peaceful life, remained his goal.

“A peaceful life.”

At the low murmur laid between the sound of turning wheels, Evan reacted.

“Do you want to live a peaceful life?”

“I do.”

“…It does not seem very peaceful, considering everything.”

“I am only a little busy right now.”

“I do not think it will be much different now or a few years from now….”

“…”

Alon said nothing.

He hated to admit it, but he too had been thinking something similar.

“Evan.”

“Yes.”

“You are eating sweet potatoes tonight.”

“…Pardon?”

Thinking and saying are different things, so Alon showed a tiny streak of spite and looked outside the carriage.

Unlike his state of mind, the view outside was nothing but peaceful.

It was a day of late sunset.

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A few more days passed.

After arriving in Lartania, before heading to Merd, Alon decided to stop nearby and buy a suitable gift.

He did not intend to receive artifact appraisal for free, but separately from that, he believed it was basic courtesy to bring one or two gifts when visiting someone.

Also, during the previous trip to deal with the Outer God, he had moved too urgently to prepare one, and that still bothered him.

Recalling the aging fountain pen he had seen in Rine’s office, he entered a shop to buy one.

While choosing something that would not feel burdensome from being excessive but would not look cheap either, he overheard a rumor.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“One of the Tri-Council members died again this time.”

“I heard that too. You mean Bima, right?”

“Yes. That one.”

“Hm. He certainly deserved to die, if you think about the bribes he took…. But with Riot dead too, that means.”

“Only Rine is left. Everyone is in an uproar because of that.”

“Why?”

“This is just what I heard, but according to the story, she killed all of them herself.”

“Why did that rumor spread?”

“Not sure exactly, but I heard they got into a fight recently. Supposedly one of them insulted her godfather….”

A somewhat troubling rumor.

####

Deus Macalian, called the second sword among Caliburn’s Five Swords, held absolute fame inside the nation.

Though it had been unofficial and left no record, the fact that he had already defeated Reinhardt had spread across all of Caliburn.

Of course, unlike that shining fame and overwhelming charisma, one sometimes heard odd stories in the background, such as that despite being a Master Knight he suspiciously loved magic.

Or that every night, after sword training, when no one was watching, he carefully struck strange poses and mimed casting magic.

…In any case, Deus Macalian’s fame was so overwhelming that such bizarre rumors could not raise their heads at all.

Yet there were people who disliked that situation.

One of them was the prince of Caliburn.

The son of Caliburn’s king Palmaryan IV, the second prince Tirian did not welcome this situation at all.

Because he had bad blood with Deus Macalian.

Of course, it was he himself who had twisted that relationship.

Unlike the first prince, who was called kingly material inside the palace both before and now, Tirian, known as a wastrel, had once tried to put his hands on Deus Macalian’s only younger sister.

He had the memory of spewing crude, undignified remarks while bothering her, then being humiliatingly beaten in a duel approved by the king.

So Tirian could not help but hate him.

“Tsk.”

Anyway, the reason he was now thinking about Deus, whom he did not even want to think about, was the secret request that had reached him today.

A request to apply political pressure to Count Palladio.

Fulfilling it was not particularly difficult.

No, in fact, beyond not being difficult, he absolutely had to fulfill it.

The reason second prince Tirian could still maintain this much of his faction even after such reckless behavior was because of the item handed over by the very person who had sent this request.

In addition, the request itself was not very difficult.

Launching political machinations against Count Palladio out of nowhere was certainly burdensome even for him.

Count Palladio was not a noble of Caliburn, but of the Kingdom of Asteria.

Even if they were bound together as the Allied Kingdoms, one still had to be careful about applying this sort of pressure to another kingdom’s noble.

Even so, the reason Tirian described pressing Count Palladio as easy was one.

The person who sent the letter had also sent fairly reasonable information, enough that the pressure would not look strange even coming from Caliburn’s second prince.

In other words, he could pressure Count Palladio with little risk.

And if he did this favor, he could also put even a small debt on the sender of that letter.

The problem was that Count Palladio was very close with Deus Macalian.

More precisely, the obstacle was that Deus Macalian liked Count Palladio more than Tirian had expected.

“Hm….”

He knew very well that if the subject of mages came up at all during Five Swords meetings, Deus would immediately bring up Count Palladio and then lecture for about an hour on the count’s greatness.

Because he received regular reports from one sword attached to his own faction.

Recently, it had even reached the level of people saying, Did Count Palladio suddenly appear there too?

That was how quickly the count-praising would begin.

Hm….

Tirian was troubled.

Accepting the request to clash with Count Palladio was nothing compared to what he stood to gain.

And for Tirian, who disliked Deus, it was also a perfect chance to screw over the count that man praised so highly.

Still, he could not decide easily.

Because he could not predict what Deus Macalian would do when he heard of it.

Unlike his absolute fame, was he not like a mad dog?

Tirian thought for some time, then made a decision.

No matter how insane he is, he cannot move.

Tirian smiled meanly.

Until now, the reason Deus Macalian had been able to beat him and humiliate him was only because he had justification.

But without justification, no matter how mad he was, Deus Macalian could not touch him.

No matter how small his force had become and how much trust he had lost from the current king, Tirian was still Caliburn’s second prince.

Touching him without any cause was effectively madness, and Tirian was sure the other side knew that too.

So Tirian believed with certainty that Deus could do nothing.

Until a day ago.

Kwang-!

Tirian stared ahead blankly.

The office door of the detached palace where the second prince was staying had been completely shattered.

And there stood one man.

A man holding a wooden sword in one hand, Deus Macalian.

With sharp violet eyes shining.

“A sword of Caliburn greets an heir of the Five Swords.”

“I came because there is something I wish to ask.”

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