Raising Villains the Right Way Novel - Chapter 144

Chapter 144

The Duchy of Luxible was a small territory bordering the mystical jungle of Ronovelli, consisting of just a few estates.

While it bore the title of a duchy, its actual strength was far less than that of the other states within the Allied Kingdoms.

But that was not its only problem.

The majority of the funds needed to administer the Duchy of Luxible originated from a single source—Castlelot, situated on the edge of the Ronovelli jungle.

While the tax revenue from this region was significant, it fell short of satisfying the lofty goals of Luxible’s seventh king, Pamillono.

Pamillono nurtured even larger dreams than his father, the sixth king.

He envisioned reshaping his duchy into a splendid, sovereign nation, one that could stand alongside the other kingdoms.

Theoretically, it was possible. As a member of the Allied Kingdoms, initiating wars between territories or nations was forbidden, so territorial expansion through conflict was not an option.

However, purchasing land with currency was permitted. If more territory was truly needed, they could expand southward. The southern lands were occupied by the territories of non-human races, which were not part of the Allied Kingdoms.

Unfortunately, in practice, such a dream was nearly impossible to achieve.

Procuring land demanded a colossal sum of money.

The required funds were so vast that the duchy’s treasury would be completely drained, risking its collapse.

Another possibility was to wage war against the non-human races to take their land.

However, these races were not easy targets for the limited military of a small duchy.

In fact, the United Kingdom allowed the non-human territories to exist precisely because they were not like the barbarian invaders who threatened the inland regions.

Most importantly, the central reason the seventh king’s ambitions remained mere fantasies was corruption.

Yes, corruption.

Sadly, even the few estates under Luxible’s authority were profoundly corrupt.

How corrupt were they, you might ask?

One clear illustration was that the military strength of the grand dukes far surpassed that of the royal army.

Therefore, from the moment he was crowned as a puppet king, he struggled with how to resolve this desperate situation.

After much thought, a chance presented itself to him.

A bargain with a devil.

No, perhaps calling it a bargain with a devil was not entirely precise.

The offer came from humans, not actual demons.

Yet, he thought of it as a devil’s pact because their proposition was overwhelmingly tempting.

Even more appealing was the fact that it seemed to demand nothing from him in return.

If the status quo continued, he was sure to live out his father’s fate—being compelled into marriage, siring heirs, and ultimately facing the risk of assassination.

The classic existence of a puppet king.

Concluding he had nothing left to sacrifice, he accepted their offer.

He did not hold great hopes.

It was essentially a final, desperate move.

But today—

Thud!

Pamillono was presented with the outcome.

“…”

He gazed vacantly at the floor below him.

Lying there were heads.

Not the heads of old men, but, in Pamillono’s view, the heads of pigs who deserved to be ripped apart.

The heads of Grand Duke Lichferton and Grand Duke Bofur.

Pamillono lifted his eyes.

A girl stood there.

Dressed in white leather and gripping a blood-stained spear.

“…Is this real?”
“You can verify it personally. The evidence is right in front of you.”
The sharp-witted Syrkal moved her spear, lightly tapping the two heads, which made Pamillono swallow hard.
“…That won’t be necessary.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I could never mistake the faces of those scoundrels, even in my nightmares.”
“Good. Also, you should know I’ve handled their soldiers as well. You have no cause for concern.”
“…Is that the truth?”
“I have no reason to deceive you.”
“I understand.”

The girl’s tone was flat and devoid of feeling.
Pamillono released a heavy breath and stared intently at the severed heads on the ground.
“Very well. I have received what I wanted, so I will pay the agreed price. It was two requests, was it not? Name them.”
As he spoke, his face grew tense.
When the girl had first proposed the deal, Pamillono hadn’t seriously considered the cost.
He never truly believed she could assassinate the two grand dukes.
But now, it was fact.
So, he prepared himself to pay whatever she asked.
“I require land for my people to settle.”
“…You want territory?”
“It doesn’t need to be extensive. Half of the land formerly controlled by those pigs will be enough.”
“…I consent.”

The first demand was not as extreme as he had braced for.
Pamillono felt a flicker of confusion, but it was short-lived.
“The second request is the crucial one.”
“…Go on.”
Hearing this, his body tensed once more.
“Establish our god as the official religion of your state.”
“…A god, you say?”
“Yes. Proclaim our god as the state religion and raise statues in its honor across the land. Those are my two conditions.”
The seventh king answered.
“That is not a difficult matter.”
“I am glad to hear it.”

Naturally, the existence of the Holy Kingdom of Rosario gave him pause, but the Holy Kingdom had long since forsaken Luxible.
This meant that even if he did not uphold Sironia as the state faith, it would likely not cause problems.
Pamillono gave a nod, and the girl—known as Swift Syrkal—signaled lightly to a shadowed corner.
Soon, another girl, Jenira Ganatana, stepped from the darkness and passed a statue to Pamillono.
“…What is this?”
“It is the idol of the deity we worship.”
The statue portrayed a man whose face was hidden in shadow.
He wore a dark coat swept by the wind, and he clutched a bolt of lightning in one hand.
“…What is this god’s name?”
As Pamillono studied the statue, he asked his question.
“This is the sole god of our Thunder Serpent clan, our deliverer.”
Jenira, as if she had been anticipating this moment, smiled with her eyes and announced,
“The Lightning Bearer, Kalanon.”
Her look held a subtle hint of zeal.

***

Penia Crysinne had been in unusually high spirits recently.
Though there were occasional dips, her mood was generally elevated.
This was because, during a visit to the Marquis’ estate where she had feared for her life, she had instead received a remarkably favorable proposition.
In exchange for aiding Marquis Palatio with his magical research, she would be permitted to learn magic from Heinkel without needing to conceal their connection.
For her, this was a perfect scenario where she lost nothing.
Of course, she would have to assist with the Marquis’s potentially boundless magical studies, but that was a minor concern.
The vital point was that she could now learn magic from Heinkel without any obstacles.
This was immensely, profoundly important to her.
Even though the Marquis’s presence made her somewhat uneasy, his magical research was genuinely captivating.
His magic was unlike any she had ever seen.
Since Alon’s magic did not follow traditional hierarchies, it naturally aroused the interest of Penia, a magic devotee.
For a time, she found herself truly engaged in the magical research.
Eventually, she even grew capable of meeting the gaze that often lingered near the Marquis.
Of course, the research phase did not last very long.
The specific research topic the Marquis requested Penia’s help with was, unfortunately, only applicable to him alone.
Despite her own superior magical talent, Penia wondered why Marquis Palatio sought her assistance with his research.
She felt a brief moment of puzzlement but quickly dismissed it.
She had resolved not to question the Marquis more than was necessary.
What mattered to her was learning magic from Heinkel and feeding her own curiosity by helping the Marquis.
In any case, her life had been quite fulfilling of late.
…That is, until the Marquis departed a few days prior, mentioning he had business to attend to.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!”
“Eek—!”

Penia screamed.
The piercing shriek startled Felin, who was timidly browsing a journal nearby, making him hold his breath instinctively.
But Penia, completely unaware of her surroundings, glared at the journal with eyes red from strain.
It contained Alon’s most recent research notes—detailing how cause, mana distribution patterns, and molecular structures changed based on their interactions.
“How on earth…”
Penia’s hands shook as she clutched the thick sheaf of papers.
“Am I expected to complete all of this?!”
She let out another shrill cry and remembered the discussion she had with Alon a few days earlier.

‘Deputy, I’m leaving this in your hands.’
‘Um… what exactly am I supposed to do?’
‘From our research up to now, we’ve established that when the molecular structure of mana combines, it transforms into a new state, correct?’
‘Yes, yes, that’s… accurate.’
‘While I’m away, please summarize it concisely.’
‘…All of this?’
‘Yes, it isn’t that much, is it?’
‘No, but—’
‘You don’t wish to do it?’

It was hardly a conversation.
It was more like a devil disguised as a benevolent professor… ruthlessly exploiting a poor student—
Penia shut her eyes tight and sighed deeply.
Finally, she understood why he had asked for her help with his research.
‘Was it for this?!’
With the principles of the molecular structure already partially decoded, the remaining task was to identify possible combinations—a process of sheer, brute-force effort.
In other words, this was no longer research but pure, exhausting labor.
And so—
“Marquis Palatio, you wretched—”
She silently swallowed the rest of her insult.
“Ughhhhhhhh!”
She emitted a strange groan and slammed her forehead onto the desk.
Penia lay there, sprawled and unmoving for some time.
After a short spell of erratic shoulder trembling, as if she had lost her mind, she muttered,
“I’ll do it. I’ll get it done, no matter what.”
Her bloodshot eyes gleamed as she continued,
“I’ll finish this, whatever it takes… and learn magic from Heinkel, no matter what…!”
She clenched her teeth, spreading her mana around her.
“I’ll do it, do it, I can do it!!!”
Armed with more than five pens as if they were weapons, she began to scrawl furiously across the papers.
Witnessing this frantic scene, Pellin cautiously shrank back, trying to make himself invisible.

***

At that very moment.
‘I wonder how she is getting along?’
Alon, taking a bite of a sweet potato, briefly thought of Penia.
‘Well, organizing it shouldn’t be too hard.’
He had left her with the task of sorting the molecular structures.
‘Once the basic arrangements are organized, it will be faster to implement and link them directly.’
Unaware that Penia was already dealing with secondary and tertiary structural arrangements, Alon casually took another bite of his sweet potato.
Just then—
“Marquis.”
“Yes, what is it?”
“I’ve come across some rather intriguing news.”
“Intriguing news?”
Evan introduced a new subject.
“Yes. It seems Lady Rine is now the sole remaining senior council member.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m not sure of the reason, but there appears to be a series of unfortunate incidents where every senior council member dies upon assuming the position.
As a result, Lady Rine is the only one currently holding the office.”
“…That is truly odd.”
“Right? I think so too.”
A short silence fell.
“…It can’t be, could it?”
Alon’s quiet murmur broke the stillness.
Evan thought for a second about what he meant, then quickly chuckled.
“Oh, come now—that’s impossible. It would be far too blatant, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
After this exchange, they passed the week until their arrival in Lartania.
Once they reached the city, Alon met with Rine.
“You’re here, Godfather?”
“It’s been some time.”
“Please, come inside first. It’s beginning to get warm outdoors.”
The two entered the office together.
“Oh, Godfather, your birthday is on September 20th, is it not?”
As soon as the door closed, Rine, with a serene expression, posed this unexpected question.
“…That’s correct. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I’ve been preparing a ‘gift.’”
“A gift?”
A slight smile touched her lips as she said,
“Yes. I hope you will like it.”
She then turned her gaze in the direction of Lartania’s lord’s castle.