Became the Patron of Villains Novel MTL - Chapter 217

Chapter 217

Approximately seven days had passed since they commenced their journey toward the northern region.

“…Indeed, managing the situation this way could enhance our capabilities.”

“Exactly! The miraculous gift from the Marquis is genuinely powerful. And if Lord Reinhardt can gain mastery over lightning, he might even secure an upper hand when fighting my brother!”

“…Is that so?”

“No, Sili—that might be a slight—”

“What are your thoughts, Lord Reinhardt? Doesn’t that sound incredibly captivating?”

“Hmm, well, it does, but… I’ve never dedicated myself to a god in that manner before—”

“Don’t worry. I shall guide you. Now, shall we attempt it? Start by extending one arm, forming a tight fist, then extending your index and middle fingers.”

From the moment the movement to the north began up to this point.

Sili had ceaselessly badgered Reinhardt, relentlessly pleading with him, eventually succeeding in turning him into a devout follower (?).

Alon internally registered his exasperation at her sheer stubbornness.

“…This goes beyond what I anticipated.”

Evan, seemingly sharing a similar sentiment, spoke in a flat voice, and Alon confirmed this with a nod.

Soon, Reinhardt was replicating the distinct prayer stance used in the Kalannon faith.

Observing him, Alon wore a strange expression.

‘That is not a posture of supplication… He is making a binding sign.’

How did that specific hand position come to be interpreted as a prayer?

As Alon briefly contemplated this, a sudden, sharp rush of frigid air brushed against his face.

“Chilly.”

He instinctively recalled a statement Kylrus had made previously.

‘In the core of the absolute coldest location.’

It was not a precise endpoint, simply a clue.

But even with that limited information, Alon had a general understanding.

‘It must be the peak.’

The summit of the snow-covered peaks.

The players simply referred to it as “the peak.”

A location one could reach after traversing the territory of the tribal people—a place simultaneously considered the most frigid and deeply sacred.

…That was the extent of Alon’s understanding.

He, too, had never traveled there.

More accurately, no player within Psychedelia had ever physically stepped onto the snow mountain’s summit.

They only possessed knowledge of it as abstract “information.”

After all, the summit of the snow-covered peaks was merely part of the background narrative of the game; there was no actual playable route to reach it in the original version.

Despite this, Alon—and other players like him—were cognizant of its existence.

This was due to “the powerful ones.”

Once the middle phase of the game began and the Sins started manifesting in full force…

A mighty entity would appear to provide assistance to the player, depending on their earlier decisions and actions.

One such figure was based at the snow mountain’s summit.

‘It was Ice of a Thousand Years, wasn’t it?’

A designation that felt out of place among the tribal people—an individual with the capacity to freeze everything in his proximity.

Whenever he was accompanying the player, he would consistently bring up the snow mountain’s summit.

Because of this, most players, despite their lack of a visit, knew of its presence.

‘I think I heard it became accessible in the expansion pack.’

Alon shook his head slightly, pushing the thought aside.

Whether or not the summit was included in the expansion was not a pressing concern at the moment.

‘It would be convenient if we could enter without difficulty, but that’s likely impossible.’

Alon subtly shifted his gaze toward Deus and the forces protecting the carriage.

Even if he had traveled alone without the official party, avoiding conflict with the tribal people would have been unavoidable.

The tribes maintained hostility toward any outsiders who did not reside in the north as they did.

Therefore, if Alon aimed to reach the peak, engaging them in battle was inevitable.

‘…I hope it won’t prove too taxing.’

Alon released a soft breath.

As if to affirm their deep penetration into the northern territory, his exhalation turned into a white vapor and dispersed.

Realizing this made him feel colder, so he tucked his hands into the pockets of his heavy coat.

Then, he suddenly recalled the sight he had witnessed at the base of the World Tree.

‘The move is called Heaven’s Inversion.’

As he looked upon the sunset sinking behind the mountains, he wondered—

‘What exactly awaits us there?’

His curiosity regarding what lay at the core of the peak slowly began to intensify.

As his thoughts continued to wander—

…He suddenly felt an intense desire for roasted yams.

“Evan.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s have yams tonight.”

“…? Uh… certainly.”

“Why the hesitant tone?”

“Well… you only just had them two evenings ago, so it’s a little surprising.”

The conclusion of his musings was a nicely charred yam.

---

Evening arrived.

Caliban’s third-highest-ranked swordsman, also recognized as the Shadow Edge, Marc—

He observed the carriage in the distance with an odd expression.

It was the vehicle belonging to Marquis Palatio.

The first thing that caught his attention was—

Marquis Palatio and a feline companion licking a yam at his feet.

Next, he saw the guard knight distractedly peeling a yam.

And next to them…

Deus Macallian, the premier sword of Caliban, was prodding at a strange pet serpent that had accompanied the Marquis.

There were others present as well.

Seated beside the bothered serpent, engaging in lively chatter, was Sili, now referred to as the Saintess of Kalannon.

And Reinhardt, making peculiar hand gestures.

At first glance, nothing appeared highly irregular.

Except…

The serpent would occasionally shimmer, as if it were a ghostly projection.

The cat next to the Marquis subtly cast a glance toward him, and then, completely unexpectedly, retractable claws emerged from its stomach to shred the yam.

‘…Well, it is somewhat unusual.’

It was a strange assembly, but not one that seemed overtly dangerous.

At the very least, it still fell within the boundaries of a typical evening meal scene.

After all, even around him, soldiers were gathered in small groups eating together—though without a luxurious carriage.

Yet, the primary reason Marc found himself unable to tear his eyes away from that group was—

‘…Why are they all offering prayers to Marquis Palatio?’

It was because of the soldiers positioned around the party.

The Solar Eclipse Knights, under the command of Deus Macallian.

They were seated in a semi-circle behind the Marquis’s group.

That alone wasn’t particularly strange.

But the manner in which they were sitting…

Anyone could clearly see—they were supplicating to the Marquis.

No, it wasn’t just that it looked like it.

It was an undeniable fact.

The Solar Eclipse Knights were presenting prayers to Marquis Palatio.

And they were doing so with profound veneration.

As if they were truly praying to a deity.

Their stance differed slightly from standard prayer, but still—

Witnessing human beings praying to another human being was… utterly bizarre.

What in the world is happening?

Just as Marc was contemplating these questions—

“…Why are they behaving like that?”

“No clue. I heard some talk about Marquis Palatio being called a god or something.”

“A god?”

“You haven’t heard the whispers? They claim he revealed himself as a divine being in Lonovellia.”

“Oh, that incident?”

“Yes, that.”

Marc inadvertently listened in on the murmuring soldiers.

“But isn’t that rumor just rampant exaggeration?”

“Probably. From what I’m told, the Grand Duchy of Luxibl reveres Kalannon, the receiver of lightning, and since the Marquis bears a faint resemblance to their idol, the stories just took off.”

“…Well, considering how Sili, the supposed Saintess of Kalannon, acts around him, it might actually hold some truth.”

“But for a mere rumor, the Solar Eclipse Knights appear far too devout.”

“…Yeah, I have to agree, it’s kind of unsettling.”

Then, one of the soldiers whispered, “Maybe they’ve all collectively lost their minds?” while rotating a finger near his temple.

Immediately, his comrade snatched his hand and forcefully pulled it down.

“You idiot! Are you trying to get yourself executed?”

“What? What did I do wrong?”

“If anyone overhears that, you’re finished. Do you not remember what happened? A soldier from the Fifth Blade made a joke about Marquis Palatio and was savagely beaten by a Solar Eclipse knight.”

“…I thought that was just because he was being reckless?”

“No. It was not.”

“…That’s horrifying.”

“So just be quiet and eat.”

The soldiers, now conversing more discreetly, looked away and resumed their meals.

Marc, too, shifted his attention back to the Solar Eclipse Knights.

They were so earnest in their prayer that they resembled holy paladins more than regular knights.

And—

With his back to them, the Marquis himself was calmly eating a yam.

‘…This is unequivocally sacrilege, isn’t it?’

The thought escaped him before he could suppress it.

But if that were the case, why was the Rosario faction not reacting more aggressively?

His gaze drifted toward the Holy Knights accompanying Cardinal Yutia.

Of course, Rosario did not openly condemn other systems of belief.

Even when the Grand Duchy of Luxibl shifted its national religion, Rosario had not intervened.

Still, that didn’t imply complete indifference.

As Marc reflected on this, he suddenly realized—

‘Now that I think about it, Cardinal Yutia is always present… but today, I don’t see her.’

Recalling how even Yutia had never caused much disruption regarding the situation, Marc decided to let the matter rest and return to his dinner.

After all, it had no bearing on him.

Or at least, it should not have.

“Greetings.”

“…!”

Marc nearly choked on his food.

‘When did she approach?’

The woman who had just been speaking with Reinhardt moments ago was now standing directly in front of him.

Still disoriented, Marc heard Sili speak.

“You’ve been observing this group for quite some time.”

Only then did he realize his error.

He had been watching them too obviously.

“…My apologies.”

“Oh, I haven’t come here for an apology.”

“Then—”

“I was merely curious… are you interested in the element of lightning?”

Sili smiled brightly at him.

Marc awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

In truth, he had no interest in Kalannon.

Or rather, he wasn’t particularly devoted to any deity.

But since he had already been caught staring, he felt he should at least respond courteously.

“…Well, I suppose I have a minor curiosity.”

“Oh! Truly?”

Sili’s eyes lit up as she enthusiastically launched into a detailed explanation.

The following day.

And the subsequent evening.

“Kalannon’s lightning is immaculate and radiant—like the very blue expanse of this world. In essence, his lightning is inseparable from the firmament itself—”

‘…Someone, please rescue me.’

Marc understood.

He had made a profound mistake.

---

Several weeks later.

Apart from the occasional glance Alon exchanged with Marc, who still looked at him with an odd expression, nothing significant occurred before Alon finally arrived in the northern territory.

And at the primary military camp—

He encountered an unexpected person.

“Marquis—!”

“…Eliban?”

It was none other than Eliban, the central figure of the original narrative.

Reports had circulated that he was successfully managing the Scribes and Corrupted Beasts within the Grand Duchy of Stalian.

Yet, for reasons unknown—

“Hello there!”

—he was currently here in the north.

---

The capital city of Caliban.

“…This is quite a surprise.”

Hidan had journeyed to Caliban at the customary time to relay intelligence regarding the Blue Moon to Deus.

Scratching his head upon receiving the news of Deus’s military venture, he mused,

‘There was no scheduled expedition last time. Well, it can’t be helped.’

After a brief pause, he took out a sheet of paper and began drafting a letter infused with arcane power.

Ordinarily, he would have waited here.

But with directives from the Red Moon, his schedule was restricted.

So, Hidan decided to leave the message at Deus’s residence and depart.

However—

“…?”

He observed something peculiar.

A strange monument.

It featured enormous, antler-like projections atop its head, and an excessively long cloak draped around it.

Of course, Hidan had seen countless strange monuments before—he had become accustomed to them.

So in itself, the structure wasn’t especially odd.

But what made it stand out to him was—

He recognized this statue.

It was a tribute to the Great Moon.

‘…Has it always appeared this way?’

Hidan immediately shook his head.

Even if he weren’t highly attentive to his surroundings, he would have noticed such a drastic transformation.

The last time he had seen it, the statue was without horns.

The cloak was not this lengthy.

And most critically—

‘…Why is it so attractive?’

It hadn’t been this handsome before.

The face had been carved into the perfect ideal of a stunningly beautiful man.

If this statue were living, its eyes would likely be sparkling with celestial light from sheer refinement.

It was so intricately crafted, almost to the point of being exaggerated.

Hidan stared blankly at the improved version of the Great Moon’s monument.

‘…Isn’t this a bit excessive?’

That was his final assessment of the situation.

Alon, conversely, had been so embarrassed by the statue that he hadn’t even risked a proper look at it.