Became the Patron of Villains Novel MTL - Chapter 161

Chapter 161
“Can this… actually be?”

Magrina asked.

“!”

Perion was taken aback.

The elven queen, Magrina, was a kind and judicious sovereign who bestowed her grace upon everyone, yet she always kept her private feelings concealed.

Such was the duty of a ruler.

A being who must safeguard her people and perpetually guide them forward.

She could never allow any frailty to show.

Therefore, across her centuries as queen, she had never revealed any emotion other than graciousness or wrath in the presence of her subordinates.

But now, Magrina, who had so rigorously adhered to this principle for so long, was for the first time displaying feelings beyond pleasure or anger before her subjects.

Uncertainty and yearning.

“Please, tell me everything.”

Urged by Magrina, Philde finally spoke.

“First, let me state again, Your Majesty. What I will tell you is only conjecture.”

“Even so, you think the marquis, the primordial elf, my brother, is that person, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then give me your reasons.”

A worried insistence.

Philde relayed every event that had occurred at the estate of Marquis Palatio.

The moment she had spied on the marquis using magic from the estate’s periphery.
How her spiritual vision had allowed her a fleeting look at the marquis’s soul.
And finally, the black pupils she had seen.

“…Haa—”

When her account was complete, Philde paused to steady her breath before highlighting the crucial details.

“In summary, the soul within Marquis Palatio was not in harmony with his physical form. This suggests a different soul is inhabiting his body.”

“As Your Majesty is aware, a mere human could never possess a soul of such golden brilliance. It is as impossible as a sage transforming into a deity, or a hero achieving godhood.”

Philde fixed her gaze intently on the queen.

“……This is the foundation for my suspicion that Marquis Palatio may be the primordial elf.”

“Then the reason my brother is unable to return is—”

“As I stated, the individual believed to be the primordial elf has an unusual presence bound to him.”

Remembering the vision, Philde felt a reflexive nausea, though she swiftly composed herself.

“I could not see it fully, but from my evaluation, this bizarre entity is fused with him.”

“Fused?”

“Yes. To a degree that makes separation impossible—a chaotic and intricate weaving together. I suspect this may be the very reason the primordial elf cannot journey here.”

Magrina said nothing.

Her eyes quivered more intensely than ever before.

A turbulent mix of hope and bewilderment clouded her gaze.

“Then—”

Her lips trembled as she pressed them together, her head hanging low.

“Could he not have at least told me?!”

Her voice was thick with unshed tears.

“Could he not have said… that he lives, that he has come back…?!”

For how long had she sought him? For how long had she waited?

To her soft, pained words, Philde answered.

“That also confused me, but I believe a ‘restriction’ may be the cause.”

“A restriction?”

Philde nodded.

“This, too, is merely speculation, but as Your Majesty knows, a deceased soul possessing a living body is an aberration. It violates the natural order of humanity.”

“Go on.”

“In my view, the primordial elf may have formed a contract with that strange entity that involved ‘restrictions.’ His soul is entangled with it to an extreme degree. The restriction likely forbids him from reconnecting with bonds from his former life.”

“Why would he agree to such a term?”

This time, Philde shook her head.

“I cannot fathom his reasons. It is only my assumption, based on the fact that he transferred blessings rather than involving himself directly.”

“……”

“I must reiterate, this is only my theory. I have no method of confirming the truth. Yet, I say this because—”

Philde looked toward Perion, who, after a prolonged silence, stepped forward.

“Your Majesty, may I proceed?”

“You may.”

“……Marquis Palatio employs ‘words’ and ‘symbols.’”

“!! That is to say—”

“……Yes, much like the primordial elf, he is a practitioner of magic. Moreover, my own inquiries have revealed that the marquis has accomplished deeds beyond the reach of any normal human.”

After a brief hesitation, Perion added,

“He has vanquished not one, but two Outer Gods, countless artificial deities, and recently subdued a monstrous being. All these feats—performed by a mere mortal.”

“……”

“This is why we suspect he is the primordial elf.”

Though Perion had finished, the queen remained quiet.

Her heart was beating wildly.

Memories from centuries past, memories she could never erase, flooded her mind.

—You are the only one.
—You must do this.
—You must guide the elves wisely.
—Please, I implore you.

Even foreseeing his own demise, he had smiled while gently stroking her hair.

After a long silence, the queen finally spoke.

“……Perion.”

“Yes.”

“Make the necessary arrangements.”

“……For what?”

“I must go to see him myself. I must verify with my own eyes if he is truly the one I believe him to be.”

Her eyes, filled with determination, locked onto Perion.

***

With Eliban’s assistance, Alon successfully cleared the Iron-Blood Citadel without a single injury.

“Is this the item you require?”

“It is.”

“Then I shall give it to you.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!”

And so, he acquired the artifact he sought.

It seemed almost suspiciously straightforward, but he had no cause to decline.

Alon accepted the object from Eliban with a cheerful smile.

It was a relic retrieved from the Iron-Blood Citadel.

More precisely, an artifact camouflaged as a simple “object.”

‘The Footsteps of the Past.’

Alon studied the item, crafted from dark steel and shaped like sprinting feet, then addressed Eliban.

“…My thanks.”

“Not at all! You came all this way to aid me at my plea! Is there anything more you require?”

Alon shook his head.

From the start, the only thing he had wanted from the Iron-Blood Citadel was the ‘Footsteps of the Past.’

Most relics from this location were weapons suited for warriors, and even the scarce items for mages held little value for him.

“No, this is sufficient.”

Alon carefully put away the ‘Footsteps of the Past.’

The ominous gate, which had remained open, started to dissipate.

Having witnessed this, Alon and his companions traveled to the nearest domain, the Duchy of Zenonia.

By the time they reached the lands of the Zenonia Duchy, the sun had already set.

“I expect we will meet again.”

“Yes, of course! If I require your assistance again, may I call upon you?”

“Certainly, provided the request is reasonable.”

“Thank you!”

Eliban offered a deep bow before continuing toward the territory with his companion.

“Marquis.”

“What is it?”

“Something has felt peculiar to me for some time now. May I speak of it?”

“Go ahead.”

Now alone, Evan, who seemed to have been waiting for this chance, started to share his observation.

“I’ve been pondering; this Eliban… He sought your help because he sensed danger, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“But doesn’t that seem odd? He possesses abilities far greater than he let on. Why would he need to ask for your help in the first place?”

“A fair point.”

The inconsistency Evan highlighted had also lingered in Alon’s thoughts.

Eliban’s words and his actions were not in alignment.

Alon, his face a mask of neutrality over his inner reflections, stared quietly in the direction where Eliban had vanished.

‘What is his true objective?’

He weighed several potential explanations.

A storm of possibilities raced through his mind in a flash.

From these, he selected a handful that seemed credible.

He condensed them into three main theories.

Perhaps Eliban had summoned him here for a distinct purpose.
Or maybe his intention was to cause him harm.
…Or, he could be following instructions from another.

Yet, Alon quickly dismissed the thought.

It did not appear that Eliban meant him any harm.

Had that been the goal, there were numerous opportunities, both before they entered the eerie gate and after.

‘If anything, he was excessively careful of me.’

Eliban’s conduct inside the Iron-Blood Citadel did not align with that of a person harboring ill intent.

Therefore, the remaining options were that he summoned Alon for a specific reason, or he was acting under another’s orders.

But neither theory felt completely satisfactory.

If he had sustained any injury, it could have served as a clue for speculation. Instead, he secured what he needed effortlessly and without cost.

For that very reason—

‘What is his motive?’

Alon’s bewilderment only grew as he mindlessly petted the head of Blackie, who had emerged at some point.

***

“Eliban.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“…Why did you keep it hidden for so long?”

At the Inn within Zenonia Territory

In the hushed inn, Yan spoke hesitantly, her voice unsteady. Eliban looked back at her.

“Hmm? Keep what hidden?”

“…Your true strength.”

“Ah—”

He scratched his cheek with an awkward, somewhat guilty, smile.

“My apologies? I intended to tell you all when the time was right, but I believed it was still too soon.”

Eliban answered with that disarming smile.

But Yan’s expression remained hard.

“…If you had that much power, couldn’t you have helped in our last crisis? Or the one before that?”

She could not simply drop the matter.

Eliban’s party had faced mortal danger on multiple occasions.

“When Ralph was nearly killed by the Giant Wood, or when my soul was almost consumed by the witch—not once did you use that power.”

It wasn’t merely the concealment of his power that angered her.

It was the fact that, despite possessing such immense strength, he had refrained from using it when the lives of his comrades were at stake.

It suggested that their deaths were not significant enough for him to unveil his secret.

“But for Marquis Palatio—”

Yan’s frown deepened.

To her, the danger facing Marquis Palatio seemed minor compared to the life-threatening situations their party had endured.

Yet, Eliban had disclosed his secret without a second thought to protect him.

The very secret he had guarded even when they were on the brink of death.

However, Eliban stayed composed.

“…Yan, I understand what you mean.”

“Then—!”

“But this was necessary. How should I explain it… it is akin to a ‘compulsion.’”

“…A compulsion?”

“Yes. I am not deceiving you. It is truly a ‘compulsion.’”

His calm blue eyes shimmered faintly as he moved closer.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he spoke.

“And in time, you will come to understand.”

“…Understand what?”

“The reason I behaved as I did.”

He articulated each word with deliberate care, as if measuring them.

“He is a person of immense importance.”

An unsettling intensity flickered within his blue eyes.

“More important than anyone else.”

“…”

Beneath the ascending blue moon, Yan met his stare, and a strange, cold shiver traveled down her spine.