Became the Patron of Villains Novel MTL - Chapter 187

Chapter 187

The individual now recognized as Duke Merkiliane, Filian’s younger brother, was named Gilan.

He was actually supposed to be residing at the ducal estate.

The purpose of this, naturally, was to oversee the governance of the region.

Although several years had elapsed since the diplomatic incident involving Duke Komalon, and all the damage caused at that time had been entirely rectified.

The matter of the sudden succession, which had been executed in a rush, still persisted.

The unexpected demise of the duke.

Consequently, the formal succession rites could not be properly observed.

Gilan had been unable to secure complete and absolute authority.

There remained a few vassals who had not yet aligned themselves fully with his leadership.

Furthermore, the simple fact that Gilan was the second son was continually used as a point of political weakness.

Regardless of the fact that the eldest son, Filian, fully supported him, the current fragility of the ducal house offered a justifiable pretext for external political interference.

In any case, these existing complications meant Gilan’s life was presently quite hectic.

Under ordinary circumstances, he would have been occupied with administrative duties at the ducal house even today.

Indeed.

Under ordinary circumstances, that is.

“Hmm, Marquis Palatio has departed for a period?”

“I was informed he would be away for over a month.”

Currently, Duke Merkiliane found himself at the Marquisate of Palatio.

This was because a directive had been issued by King Stalian V.

An instruction that stated, without elaboration, ‘Verify the true identity of Marquis Palatio.’

Anyone presented with this would inevitably ask, ‘What exactly is the meaning of this?’

It was an order that felt inherently illogical.

There was absolutely no additional context provided.

Since it originated from the crown, he had no choice but to comply, yet from Gilan’s standpoint, the entire situation was utterly perplexing.

Moreover, hadn’t Gilan been consistently receiving the backing of King Stalian V ever since the affair with Duke Komalon?

This made it even more difficult to decline, compelling him to travel to the marquisate.

And he had not traveled alone.

He was accompanied by the armored knight dressed in black, whom Stalian V had kept close for some time now.

‘Just what in the world is going on here…?’

Gilan, or rather, Duke Merkiliane, sighed as he awaited the knight’s response.

To his further surprise, Stalian V had also commanded him to treat this particular knight with the utmost deference.

‘…Who precisely is this knight?’

From the beginning of this assignment to the current moment, nothing made any sense.

The knight in black paused briefly before finally speaking.

“Hmm… I suggest we just wait a little longer.”

The duke questioned this decision.

“You propose that we simply wait?”

“Yes, since we’ve gone to the trouble of coming here, we may as well make absolutely certain of things.”

A certain air of amusement could be detected in the knight’s voice.

Gilan sighed, conveying his feeling of having no other alternative.

The truth was, the moment he accepted Stalian V’s mandate, he had forfeited any authority to make independent choices.

“Very well, let us proceed as you suggest.”

By now, his intense curiosity was completely overwhelming him.

“However, may I pose one question?”

“If it is something I am permitted to answer.”

“…The command was to confirm Marquis Palatio’s identity.”

“And?”

“Is there a chance that the marquis is not, in fact, human? For instance, could he be a disguised member of a non-human species, or if not that, perhaps a monster—”

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”

“…?”

The knight burst into uproarious laughter, as if he had just heard an incredibly funny joke.

Duke Merkiliane’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

“…Is there something humorous?”

“Ah, my sincere apologies. I simply found it highly entertaining to hear you propose that out of the blue.”

From within his protective helmet, the knight continued to chuckle.

“But naturally, if the marquis were merely another species or a monster, my presence here would be unnecessary.”

“In that case, what exactly is the marquis?”

The laughter ceased instantly.

And then—

“A divine being.”

“…What did you just utter?”

The single word resonated sharply in the surrounding air.

“A god. I am here to verify whether Marquis Palatio is indeed a god.”

Upon hearing these words—

Duke Merkiliane’s jaw dropped wide open.

“Marquis Palatio is—”

He reacted as if he had just heard something utterly beyond belief.

“…Did you seriously just claim he is a god?”

“Of course, it hasn’t been definitively proven yet. I haven’t confirmed it myself. But, well, it’s practically certain.”

The duke’s mouth opened even wider in astonishment.

---

Even without the preliminary warning provided by Recon.

Alon already possessed a general understanding.

That the elven race was fundamentally and extremely antagonistic toward humankind.

During the playthrough of the Psychedelia game, upon encountering the character Perion, some of the elves’ historical context had been briefly revealed.

Although the precise origins of their intense animosity toward humans remained somewhat vague.

The crucial point was—

That elves despised humans to a far greater extent than anticipated.

And yet—

“…You have been anticipating my arrival?”

Alon found this current situation absolutely baffling.

“Yes. I have been expecting you.”

A youthful elf stood before him, wearing a kind smile.

No, beyond kind—he was overtly courteous.

An elf displaying such politeness toward a human?

…Something was profoundly amiss here.

Could they possibly have mistaken him for another individual?

Even if that were the case, Alon was unequivocally human.

There was no plausible way they could have confused him with a fellow elf…

As numerous conflicting thoughts raced through his mind, he struggled to formulate any coherent explanation.

At that exact moment—

“Please, come inside immediately. The others are awaiting your presence.”

“Wait, hold on just a moment—”

Alon gestured with his hand to halt the elf, who was persistently trying to usher him inward.

“?”

The elf looked genuinely confused.

However, from Alon’s perspective, it felt entirely too risky to follow this elf without first getting answers.

What if, upon entering the elven kingdom, their misunderstanding was finally brought to light?

At that stage, the entire predicament would become exponentially more complicated to resolve.

‘I suppose I have no other choice.’

While he was seriously worried about their known hostility, he had to address and clear up the error right from the outset.

Sometimes, the most direct approach is indeed the quickest to a solution.

“What is the identity of the person you have been waiting for?”

…There are at least a hundred individuals inside the kingdom.

Just in case the situation deteriorated, Alon subtly formed a gesture with his hand inside his coat pocket.

His mana diffused gently into the surrounding air, just enough to subtly destabilize its molecular structure without being detected.

Noticing Alon’s readiness, Evan also subtly raised his hands, preparing to unsheathe his sword at a moment’s notice.

And then—

“Naturally, it is—”

As soon as the elf began to speak,

“Marquis Palatio.”

“…What?”

Alon involuntarily released the defensive gesture.

Evan mirrored the action, even lowering his hands in sheer disbelief.

He shot Alon a look that clearly communicated, ‘Why on earth is the marquis’ name being invoked here?’

“You were waiting specifically for me?”

“Yes. We have been waiting for you, Marquis.”

Me? Why me? For what specific purpose?

Did they truly just use my name?

A torrent of unanswered questions surged through his mind,

But before he could even attempt to organize his thoughts,

The elf suddenly seized his arm again.

“Let us go inside without delay. They are waiting for you.”

With those cryptic words, the elf proceeded to escort him into the stronghold.

---

After being seated within a carriage that was being personally escorted by elven guards—

“Marquis.”

Alon whispered softly to his companion.

For once, a look of genuine astonishment was visible on his face.

“…Speak your mind.”

“I have never truly been surprised by your travels, your searches for objects, or your confrontations with enemies.”

“And what is your point now?”

“…But this time, no matter how many times I re-examine the situation, I cannot help but be utterly shocked.”

“I am equally shocked, believe me.”

Evan gave Alon a look of profound skepticism.

Alon felt genuinely misunderstood.

If nothing else, this entire situation was something he had absolutely zero foreknowledge of.

‘I never even played this particular downloadable content in the first place.’

Before he could properly dwell on his frustration—

“We have arrived at our destination.”

As the carriage door swung open, Alon stepped out hesitantly, scrutinizing his immediate surroundings with care.

“…Oh.”

He let out an involuntary gasp of astonishment.

A colossal, gigantic tree dominated his entire field of vision.

Not merely a large tree—it was so immense that it could easily engulf an entire region or domain.

As Alon stood there, momentarily speechless, a voice spoke quietly near his ear.

“Welcome back.”

The phrasing felt exceedingly odd, but Alon offered no reply.

Instead, he suddenly understood something with far greater clarity.

Whatever was transpiring, they were operating under a monumental misconception.

It wasn’t just a simple case of mistaking him for another person.

They were aware he was Marquis Palatio, and they were addressing him exactly as such.

What precisely had they misunderstood? And how had they arrived at this utterly incorrect conclusion?

He had never engaged in any action that could even remotely lead to such a drastic error.

“When did you last visit the elf village?”

“…Does it appear to you that I have been here previously?”

“Well, no, not specifically, but—”

Even as he followed the line of elves into the vast hall beneath the tremendous World Tree—

“Incredible…! That is the Primordial Elf—”

“Indeed, it is.”

He continued to hear quiet whispers about his identity.

‘…The Primordial Elf?’

It was at that moment that Alon—

Who had been utterly incapable of making sense of the unfolding events—

Finally connected one tiny clue to the overall misunderstanding.

It was insufficient to fully deduce the sequence of events, but it gave him a faint indication of the sheer scale of the misapprehension that had initiated this.

As he stood there, momentarily lost in deep thought—

‘No way,’ he thought.

He instinctively glanced down at his hand, recalling the staff that had once belonged to the Primordial Elf.

Before his thoughts could progress any further—

“The Queen is now waiting to receive you.”

He was guided toward the most magnificent chamber in the structure.

There,

“…It has been a significant period of time.”

An elf was waiting patiently for him.

Unlike any other elf he had ever encountered, she radiated a luminous quality of an entirely different magnitude.

Her beauty was breathtaking, so overwhelming that she could only be described as the epitome of all elegance.

She was the Elf Queen.

---

Before Alon could even begin to process the nature of the elves’ confusion, he was rapidly brought before the sovereign.

After a moment of careful consideration, he slowly began to speak.

“…Before we engage in this conversation, I feel obligated to state one thing clearly.”

“And what would that be?”

The queen responded with a soft, inviting smile.

…In truth, there was no practical necessity for Alon to make this statement.

Rather, there seemed to be no advantage at all in saying anything.

Because he still had absolutely no grasp of precisely why or how the elves had reached this erroneous conclusion.

But if he allowed the conversation to proceed as it was, he had no idea when or how the absolute worst-case scenario might suddenly materialize.

“…I regret to inform you, but I strongly believe you are operating under a fundamental error about my identity.”

“In what exact manner?”

He made the decision to reveal the simple truth.

“You appear to have mistaken me for the Primordial Elf, but I am certainly no such entity.”

However—

“I understand.”

“…?”

The reply he received was far too tranquil.

Alon looked profoundly perplexed and questioned her again.

“…Did you fully comprehend what I just stated?”

“Yes. You declared that you are not the Primordial Elf, correct?”

“That is absolutely correct.”

And yet—

“Understood. We will simply regard it as being ‘in that general vicinity of feeling.’”

“…’That general vicinity of feeling’?”

“Yes, precisely that feeling.”

“…???”

As he faced their utterly composed and unshakable reactions, Alon realized with perfect clarity that something about this entire exchange was deeply and fundamentally distorted.