Became the Patron of Villains Novel MTL - Chapter 129

Chapter 129
A month and a half had gone by since the crisis of the artificial Outer gods, an event orchestrated by Duke Komalon.

In Tern, Stalian V released a heavy, deep sigh, one that carried a multitude of unspoken implications.

With Duke Komalon’s guilt firmly established, the Kingdom of Ashtalon was compelled to offer some form of reparation to the other kingdoms.

Yet, Stalian V was not unduly burdened; he had foreseen this result from the very start of his investigation and had made the necessary preparations.

He had even succeeded in negotiating acceptable terms for the compensation after lengthy debates at the emergency meeting held every two weeks.

Still, his face was clouded with severity.

“I never should have gotten involved with Marquis Palatio that day—ah,” Stalian V muttered, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose.

Nothing overt had occurred between him and the Marquis since that encounter; in fact, he hadn’t even laid eyes on the man again.

The true source of his disquiet was Yuman.

Stalian V found himself constantly replaying the comments Yuman had delivered during the meeting.

—Is that truly sufficient? I find it lacking.
—You ought to offer a clear apology for this section. Brushing over it so casually appears unseemly. And wasn’t it similar the last time?
—It almost sounds as if you are shifting blame onto the other nations, which is not a good impression.

Every time Stalian V had spoken, Yuman had unrelentingly picked apart his words and assailed his position.

Baffled by Yuman’s persistently hostile stance, Stalian V was at a loss.

While the Kingdom of Ashtalon and Rosario were not intimate allies, their relations had been reasonably good, and the same could be said of his personal interactions with the saint.

Now, however, that rapport seemed entirely fractured, all over a single matter concerning Marquis Palatio.

‘This is troubling,’ he pondered, his mind filled with questions. ‘What, exactly, is the nature of the bond between Marquis Palatio and him?’

It was strange that Saint Yuman would stand up for Marquis Palatio, a man known to be closely linked to Archbishop Yutia, especially since Yutia and Yuman of Rosario were known to keep a cautious, mutual watch on one another.

Because of this, Yuman’s apparent protectiveness towards the Marquis was puzzling.

“That settles it. There must be some secret regarding Marquis Palatio… I need to investigate this,” Stalian V concluded with firm resolve, unable to simply drop the matter.

“Your Majesty, the meeting is about to commence,” a voice announced, and Stalian V rose to his feet.

His expression was noticeably less tense than before, as Saint Yuman would not be attending any more meetings from this day forward.

Feeling somewhat unburdened, he made his way to the conference hall, only to be met by the piercing golden gaze of a beastwoman from the Colony, whose stare was so intense it seemed she wished to consume him whole.

“??”

Though he didn’t initially grasp the reason for such a look, he quickly remembered her very close association with Marquis Palatio and let out a soft, weary sigh.

That very day, Stalian V somberly swore to himself, “I truly must not cross paths with Marquis Palatio again.”

Despite this vow, to his misfortune, Stalian V faced a series of aggravating incidents throughout the following week in Tern, right in the heart of the harsh winter.

***

Meanwhile, Alon had been back in his duchy for roughly two months, the majority of that time spent recuperating from his mana addiction.

His recovery had been remarkably swift, and after a period he could move about freely, though he was still incapable of casting spells.

Consequently, he could not return to his practical magic studies, passing his days in a state of rest.

Even so, he wasn’t completely without occupation, as he still had his responsibilities as the territory’s lord.

There was a significant accumulation of administrative documents, all of them incredibly tedious, awaiting his attention.

However, the task was made less monotonous by a sudden and unforeseen triumph.

“Ha ha ha ha, this is a true victory for me.”

“What? How is this possible?”

“Foolish being, to believe you could best a deity—that is nothing but arrogance.”

The source of this was Basiliora.

Alon observed the two entities seated opposite each other, engaged in a board game resembling chess.

On one side was Evan, his face a picture of stunned disbelief, and on the other was Basiliora, a small spiritual being, his upper body puffed up in victory.

The disparity in their current fortunes was starkly evident.

“Hey, let’s play another round.”

“Why should I grant a rematch? Do you believe someone of my exalted status should lower myself to competing again with a base creature such as you?”

“Stop talking nonsense. How can you boast after winning just one game out of more than thirty?!”

The indignation in Evan’s voice was palpable, and for once, Alon found himself sympathizing.

Basiliora had suffered defeat at Evan’s hands over thirty times and was now acting as if that single, fluke victory proved his superiority, like a novice who wins one round and taunts a master.

“Ah, this stubborn fool is so irritating.”

“And what do you plan to do about it? You’re just trembling in fear!”

Basiliora, his small mouth wide open, curled his diminutive body, a sight that was rather endearing given his 30-centimeter stature as a spirit.

“My Lord! Can you not summon this creature for me?!”

“If I summoned him at his true size, this entire estate would be annihilated.”

“What about a smaller version, roughly my height?”

“No, I cannot.”

Alon genuinely wished he could materialize Basiliora just to tease Evan, but unfortunately, it was not an option.

The artifact known as ‘Wanderer’s Salvation’ had a cooldown period of five… or perhaps ten years?

Alon’s gaze fell upon his bracelet.

It had shone a brilliant red during Basiliora’s summoning, but now it was a foreboding, dark color, signaling that five to ten years must pass before the artifact could be activated again.

Still, Alon wasn’t overly worried, because he knew of another method to utilize the bracelet, having bypassed cooldowns in games through resets in the past.

‘I suppose it will be around half a year after the main story begins?’

Alon gave a slight shrug as he considered the character capable of resetting the Salvation’s cooldown.

“Indeed, a foolish human could never defeat—”

“My Lord, this one flinches every time the central tower is mentioned. There might be something hidden there; we should send him to it.”

“!? Hold on, that’s a dirty trick—”

Lately, Alon had been amusing himself by watching Evan and Basiliora’s matches while he worked through his paperwork.

As time progressed, about four months later, the grip of Alon’s mana addiction had significantly loosened, allowing him to perform magic a few times and welcoming the gentle warmth of spring in place of winter’s bitter cold.

“Evan.”

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Since when has there been an auction house operating within our domain?”

“I believe it was established approximately four months ago. Weren’t you briefed on the report?”

“Yes, I do recall that now.”

“May I ask why?”

Alon double-checked the numbers detailed in the documents.

“It’s just that for a venture that began only a few months ago, the tax revenue is remarkably high.”

The sole reason Alon had inquired about the auction house, despite his prior knowledge of its existence, was the substantial tax payment.

“After only three months of operation, the taxes are already this significant…?”

The sums weren’t astronomical, but they were impressive for an auction house that had been open for such a short time.

“Evan.”

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Can you arrange for the owner of the auction house to be brought here?”

“The owner?”

“Correct.”

Alon wanted to speak with the auction house owner, his mind already turning over ideas for the domain’s development.

While he was somewhat inexperienced in territorial management, maintaining the status quo was manageable, thanks to his familiarity with administrative work.

Expanding the domain, however, was a different challenge.

The duchy’s finances were essentially balanced, with any extra income Alon provided being offset by expenditures.

Costs absorbed almost all additional revenue, resulting in a net gain of zero.

Therefore, he reasoned, ‘If the auction house is this successful, perhaps investing in it and developing a tourism sector could be a viable path.’

Alon started to draft a mental blueprint for this plan.

He needed to talk business with the auction house owner.

Even the most sound plan could be derailed by variables, and experienced insight was often crucial.

Not long after, via Evan’s arrangements, the owner was summoned, and Alon was rendered speechless when he saw the man’s identity.

“……Alexion?”

“A pleasure to see you again, my lord.”

It was a face he knew all too well.

Alexion’s life had taken a severe downturn from the moment he encountered Radan, the Pirate King.

After suffering through numerous ordeals and finally yielding to Radan’s forceful persuasion(?), Alexion had ended up at the ducal estate, pondering what sins he might have committed in a previous life, though he was not without fault in his current one either.

There had been many bleak days, but Alexion had, against the odds, managed to reverse his fortunes.

His natural talent for business had brilliantly recognized the potential in the many trade guilds that frequented the Palatio duchy, and within a few short months, he had built a prosperous auction house from the ground up.

“……What are you doing here?”

“Ha ha, circumstances simply led me here.”

Alexion desperately wanted to scream, ‘Your brother, the pirate, forcibly dragged me here!!!’ but he held his tongue.

Uttering such a thing would do him no good.

Radan had also made it very clear that he should mind his words if he valued his life.

Since he had no desire to die, speaking carefully was a matter of course.

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Alexion was feeling quite satisfied.

He had a good idea why the Marquis had summoned him.

“……I will be direct, as I am not one for elaborate speeches. I wish to make an investment to develop our territory. May I hear your opinion on the matter?”

This was exactly the conversation Alexion had been hoping to have with the Marquis.

Under normal circumstances, it would be too early to celebrate, but having learned of the Marquis’s intentions through Radan, the Marquis’s words sounded to Alexion like, ‘I want to fund your ventures.’

Regardless of the Marquis’s personal thoughts, Alexion was confident in his own ability to secure an investment through sheer skill.

So, he pondered, ‘What is the best approach? Perhaps begin by proposing a link to a tourism project and then suggest an expansion of the auction house?’

As he considered how to win over the Marquis, who held no ill will toward him, Alexion smiled on the inside.

While he wasn’t foolish enough to try and swindle someone associated with the Pirate King, he believed he could likely secure a larger sum than initially hoped for.

“Ahem—”

Just as Alexion cleared his throat to speak, his eyes caught movement outside the window.

A woman with golden hair and dark clothing was sitting on a tree branch outside, her gaze fixed intently on Alexion.

The moment their eyes met, she promptly retrieved a magical device from within her clothing.

Then, with a faint, knowing smile, she activated the device, and a projected image materialized in the air before Alexion.

His expression immediately turned to stone.

The image depicted Radan, his face stern and solemn, staring directly back at him.

“……”

A shadow of deep gloom once again fell over Alexion’s features.