Became the Patron of Villains Novel MTL - Chapter 119

Chapter 119
The sprawling city of Lartania is segmented into eight distinct quarters, four interior and four exterior. Of these, the eastern outer district, commonly called the slums, is dubbed the ‘Street of Scum’ by mercenaries and adventurers. What began as a simple haven for scavengers has transformed into a zone so dangerous that the city’s own lord exercises caution within its bounds.

Situated beside the city walls, this area operates almost beyond the reach of the law, home to powerful individuals concealed in its alleyways. As a result, most mercenaries steer clear unless their business is urgent. The Street of Scum is controlled by three major factions.

The first is the Ji-ha-jik-dan, commanded by Su-rode. The second, Punkcal, led by Kokan, is based in the northeastern sector—a congregation point for Lartania’s dregs. The third is the Dark Mud, headed by Salamandra. While officially one of three powers, Dark Mud effectively holds dominion over the entire Street of Scum.

Originally, these three groups shared the territory equally, but at a certain point, Dark Mud usurped control, overwhelming the others due to the shocking and formidable power of their leader, Salamandra. The other organizations remain baffled by Salamandra’s sudden ascent to a vastly superior level of strength.

Their only evidence was witnessing Salamandra, shrouded in dark magic, physically tearing apart a swordmaster-level opponent from Laksas with her bare hands.

From that day forward, no one on the Street of Scum dares to challenge Dark Mud. Inside their main base, a gruesome spectacle resembling a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood is on display. Every visible surface—the interiors of buildings, the outside streets, the ground, the sky, the outer walls, the main gate—is littered with bodies. A distinctive feature is the massive golden pipes impaling the corpses, forming a chaotic structure like a jungle gym, all shimmering under the light of the blue moon.

Salamandra, the boss of Dark Mud, gazed with visible anxiety at the figure standing before her under the clear, blue-tinged moonlight. Her green eyes glinted as a woman—specifically, a high-ranking Lartania official named Rine—issued an order: “Clean this up.”

The instant the command was spoken, the golden pipes shifted with impossible speed, seeming to dissolve into nothingness and erase the ghastly playground.

As a shower of falling corpses bloomed into a flower of blood, Rine, appearing satisfied with the power she wielded, nodded several times. “Good, it seems the distractions have been removed. Shall we converse?” she said.

She offered a smile to Salamandra, who unconsciously furrowed her brow, shot a look at Rine, and then abruptly spun around to escape. She was convinced she could not overcome this adversary’s presence—at least, not at this moment.

Once her decision was made, Salamandra dashed into the building without a second thought, rushing to the basement to deploy ‘that’ item against this overwhelming foe. Reaching the basement, she hurriedly opened a chest prepared for this very day—her sole hope and lifeline. Regrettably, the moment the lid was open, she found herself unable to move her hands. All she could manage was to watch as one of the golden pipes, the very instrument that had slain all her followers, erupted through her chest from behind.

“Oh, this is a problem. I wasn’t supposed to kill her.” As Rine’s voice, laden with feigned regret, became a funeral dirge, Salamandra perished instantly. Rine licked her lips in apparent disappointment as she approached, then noticed something.

“What is this?”

Her question reverberated softly in the gloomy basement as she observed a vast quantity of abyssal creatures, now soaking in Salamandra’s blood.

***

Lately, Evan found himself with little to occupy his time. What was there to do in the central tower, where the magic conference was in full swing? Although Alon did not place any particular restrictions on Evan’s movements and had even suggested he explore if bored, Evan had recently chosen to stay put. The reason was straightforward: starting a week ago, the number of magicians clinging to him had multiplied dramatically. Had this attention been due to his appearance, he would have been prepared to relish it. Concern? What concern? Evan enjoyed being the center of attention.

Unfortunately, the real reason was different. It was because the head and deputy head of the Blue Magic Tower were connected to Alon. The mere thought of stepping outside his room reminded Evan of the magicians who would swarm him, each proffering tempting artifacts or relaying messages to the Marquis, hoping to forge a connection through these offers. It was as if their social skills, dulled from being confined to the tower and focused exclusively on magical research, made them blind to his refusals or indifference.

They clung to him even more persistently, chattering incessantly. To be honest, Evan had no idea what Alon was doing to cause such commotion.

“No, it doesn’t appear he’s doing anything at all.”

Naturally, he was aware that Alon wasn’t being particularly active. In essence, Evan was simply accompanying Alon, who did nothing out of the ordinary during their travels, unless you counted eating sweet potatoes for over two weeks without any sign of boredom.

But given the circumstances, Evan couldn’t help but suspect Alon might be secretly scheming. If questioned about it, Alon, being who he was, would only feel genuinely wronged, though his expressionless face made it difficult to tell. Having served him for nearly a decade, Evan had learned to discern some emotions behind that impassive mask.

So, after several days indoors, Evan finally ventured out, strolling through the magic tower. He assumed sufficient time had passed for the rumors to subside. Before long, he felt pleased, believing his judgment was sound. As he walked, the magicians merely glanced his way instead of crowding around, leading him to think the gossip had been suppressed. Just as he was beginning to enjoy his leisurely tour of the tower, he came across a familiar face.

“It’s been some time.”
“Oh, Felin?”
“Indeed.”

Evan had encountered Felin Crysinne, whom he had met in Laksas. Initially distant, they had formed a degree of friendship while journeying together in Laksas.
“What brings you here?”
“A magician attending a magic conference? I’d like to say it’s nothing special, but that’s not really why I’m here.”
“Then why?”
“I was brought here against my will.”
“Brought? By whom?”
“By my sister, because of the rumors.”
“Ah.”

Evan immediately grasped Felin’s meaning.
“Is she very angry?”

Evan had heard from Alon that Penia Crysinne had spoken harshly about him. Felin was silent for a moment before speaking. “I asked her about it, just to be sure.”
“And?”
“She slapped me.”
“Hmm…?”
“Oh my.”
“It might be harsh to say, but she’s grown quite violent,” Felin said, a thread of fear in his voice. Evan noted that the respect Felin had once held for his sister during their time in Laksas had diminished significantly. This indirect proof of the hardships Felin had suffered at Penia’s hands stirred a feeling of pity within Evan.
“So, she came here because of that rumor?”
“Precisely. She said she was going to find the Tower Master who’d been spreading those rumors and have a word with him—or more accurately, give him a piece of her mind.”

It sounded like a potential misunderstanding…?
“Ahem, so did the deputy come alone?”
“She brought me along, thinking the Tower Master might try to hide.”
“I see.”

Understanding he had been conscripted into a search party, Felin felt a momentary relief that his sister was not currently present.
“So, did you just arrive?”
“No, we got in late yesterday. My sister went to look for the Tower Master, and I started searching from the first floor with some others today. She should be here soon. By the way, where is the Marquis?”
“He’s probably somewhere in the tower, sitting in on a lecture. But for her to get that angry over a simple rumor, she must really despise him… huh?”

Suddenly, they heard murmuring among the magicians and spotted Alon in the distance, reading a book Evan hadn’t seen before. Behind him was Penia Crysinne, observing him with a severe expression.
“Penia, over here,” Felin called out just as he saw her.
“Marquis!”
“Ah, hello…!?”

Evan and Felin watched as Penia, who had just been looking so stern, approached Alon with a radiant smile and a nasal, coquettish tone. The sight made Evan doubt his own vision.
“…Deputy?”
“Ehehe, don’t call me that, just Penia, Marquis!”
“????”

Penia’s sudden transformation into a flirtatious manner left all the surrounding magicians bewildered.
“What?”

Felin, who had been about to call to his sister, was rendered speechless, his mouth hanging open.

Thud—
In the midst of this absurd scene, a drop of saliva fell from Felin’s gaping mouth.
“…Has my sister lost her mind?”
He muttered, completely unable to make sense of the situation.

Penia does not like Alon. This was a well-established fact. From the start, she had no reason to like him, and she found it stressful whenever rumors involving him circulated.

Wasn’t the very reason she came to the tower to locate and confront the Blue Tower Master who had spread those rumors?

However, the reason she was now directing a bright smile at Alon was, of course, because of Heinkel. She glanced upward. Though invisible to the other magicians, Penia could see clearly: Heinkel, in his spirit form, was looking down on the scene, seemingly to verify that Alon and Penia were indeed involved.

This understanding compelled Penia to throw herself at Alon and behave so irrationally. Despite the tremendous stress it caused her, she was desperate to receive instruction from Heinkel, who was regarded as a legendary figure among magicians. Thus, she addressed Alon with a frantic smile, “Why are you looking at me like that, Marquis?”

Alon, the recipient of her nasal-toned speech, was internally perplexed by Penia’s sudden approach, as the Penia he knew would never act this way. He wondered, ‘Has she eaten something bad?’ and studied her with a serious expression.
“Why are you behaving like this all of a sudden?”
“Ahahaha, what do you mean, all of a sudden? We’ve always been this close, haven’t we?” Penia replied.
“…Have we?”

What a strange thing to say. While Alon was reeling behind his emotionless exterior, the rumor that the Marquis Palatio and Penia Crysinne were involved, which had been forcefully quashed within the Blue Tower, began to flare up again.
“So it was true they were involved after all? She must be too lovesick to speak properly. If the Blue Tower Master himself confirmed it, the rumor must be accurate.”

Thanks to Penia contorting herself in flattery (?) to learn Heinkel’s magic, the rumors were reigniting.

***

“Cardinal, there is a new rumor concerning the Marquis—”
“Yes, what is it, Cardinal Sergius?”
“A story has begun circulating that the deputy of the Blue Tower and the Marquis Palatio are truly involved.”
“Oh, that rumor? I thought it was disproven last time.”
“Well, it seems this time it is not merely a story. In fact, several witnesses have come forward at the magic conference—”
“What?”

A mere three days later, the rumor about the Marquis Palatio reached the ears of a cardinal in the Holy Kingdom who was paying close attention to such matters.

As Yutia’s fingers brushed against the paper, she felt the familiar texture of the stationery used for sending letters.