Became the Patron of Villains Novel MTL - Chapter 240

Chapter 240

The following day.

Alon and his party reached the Union late in the afternoon.

“Identity yourselves!”

“Open the gates!”

At first, the guards on duty hesitated at Rangban’s shout.

“Huh?”

“H-Hold on, isn’t that Lord Rangban?”

But the moment they confirmed Rangban’s features—

“I-It can’t be!”

“Notify the commanders! Lord Rangban has survived!”

The area became a flurry of activity.

Rumbleee~!

Before long, the colossal gates parted.

“Let’s move.”

Following Rangban’s lead, Alon crossed the threshold.

“Ah~ Aah, Lianna!! You made it back alive~!!”

“Father~!”

“You foolish child! I knew you were alive!!”

“Oh, stop it! You were sobbing as if I were already buried!!”

“I told you I was alive!!”

An intense reunion played out before them.

Soldiers discarded their weapons and rushed toward friends and family, locking them in tight embraces.

The atmosphere instantly shifted to one of boisterous celebration.

Just then—

A beastman clad in distinctly traditional garments sprinted from the distance.

The middle-aged beastman reached Rangban, his mouth agape in shock.

“Rangban! You actually survived!”

He crushed him in a fierce hug.

“Father, surely you recognize your own son?”

Rangban returned the embrace, addressing the man as father.

How much time passed in that tearful reunion?

Just as they started to exchange stories, Rangban’s father shifted his gaze past his son.

‘…A human?’

He locked eyes with Alon, his hostility plain to see.

“Father, these are the ones who rescued me.”

“What? Is that a fact? Humans saved your life?”

“Yes. To be precise, that group did.”

Upon hearing his son’s clarification, his eyes widened, blank with shock.

He remained quiet for a beat, then approached Alon.

“My gratitude. Sincerely.”

He bowed his head low.

A heavy silence descended.

“…I only did what was necessary.”

Although startled by the sudden hush, Alon nodded with respect.

“Let us continue this indoors.”

Rangban, observing the exchange, offered a sheepish smile and guided Alon’s party inward.

They proceeded toward the massive city situated at the heart of the Union.

The moment Alon laid eyes on it, he instinctively halted.

It struck a strange chord of familiarity, as if he had visited this place in the past.

He attempted to search his memory, but he couldn’t afford to stand there gazing indefinitely.

Eventually, after reaching the kingdom—

Alon and his companions took a brief respite of two hours, during which they uncovered a shocking fact.

It turned out—

“…A prince?”

“That is accurate.”

Rangban, who had been journeying alongside Alon all this while, was a prince of the Eastern Kingdom.

“—”

Penia’s eyes bulged in astonishment, while Rine cocked her head, detecting something peculiar.

Somewhere along the line, Rangban had swapped his worn armor for refined royal vestments.

“Permit me to introduce myself properly. I am Arangira.”

He bowed with courtly elegance.

“…Ah.”

Rine, who had been scowling moments earlier, finally voiced her understanding.

“So that explains your absence from the library.”

She whispered, her voice audible only to Alon.

Alon regarded Arangira.

“Why go through the trouble of concealing your name?”

“Technically, I didn’t hide it completely. I served as a warrior within the Cheongmu Corps and merely kept my royal lineage a secret from the general populace.”

“Not even the other beastmen were aware of your true identity?”

“The vast majority were not.”

Arangira replied without hesitation.

“As a prince, why choose to mask your identity and live as a warrior?”

“It is a custom that every prince of the East must endure.”

“A custom?”

“Indeed. To qualify for the throne, we are required to spend at least five years living under an assumed identity.”

“You chose to adhere to that even during a catastrophic crisis?”

Arangira shook his head.

“It wasn’t really about honoring tradition. I simply wished to avoid needless friction. If a group has two leaders, it invites problems.”

“I see—”

Alon nodded in understanding, then paused.

“However, for someone trying to remain inconspicuous, the guards certainly reacted loudly when they spotted you at the entrance.”

“Ah, that is because I built quite a reputation under the name Rangban.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. Believe it or not, I reached the highest rank within the Cheongmu warriors through my own merits.”

Penia, overhearing this, shot Arangira a peculiar glance.

“Well, that is true—”

“Yes?”

“But for some reason, it’s irritating.”

“……”

Arangira’s smile froze awkwardly.

But only for a split second.

“…Ahem. Regardless, will you accompany me? I have received a briefing on the Union’s status, but Lord Alon should hear the details personally. Oh, and please, continue to address me as Rangban.”

“Very well.”

Following Arangira—or rather, Rangban—Alon’s party set off once more.

“…Greetings, O deity from distant lands.”

Immediately after crossing the threshold of the grand palace—

Alon found himself facing three figures arranged around a circular table.

An elf, a lizardman, and the middle-aged beastman from earlier.

An elaborately carved throne sat atop the table.

Upon seeing it, Alon stepped forward to offer his regards.

“I am Alon.”

He then took a seat at the round table, directed by Rangban.

Penia and Rine positioned themselves behind him like guards.

The three individuals assessed one another.

“Let us commence with introductions.”

A brief exchange of names ensued.

‘So they are the monarchs of their respective nations.’

As Alon had surmised, these were the rulers of each race and the current heads of the Union.

King Surang of the beastman territory, the East.

King Kalanda of the elven domain, Pilgrin.

And Chief Rioche, the supreme leader of the lizardmen.

Once the introductions concluded—

Surang was the first to speak.

“I realize I have already expressed my gratitude, but I must say it again—thank you for preserving my son’s life.”

King Surang lowered his head in a deep bow.

Despite the event having passed, Alon recognized the gravity and significance of a king’s bow.

He could feel just how precious Rangban was to Surang.

“I have heard the rough details from my son, but… you are seeking Lord Yongrin, is that correct?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

Surang addressed the matter directly, and when Alon nodded, Kalanda, who had remained silent until then, spoke with a grieving countenance.

“We are profoundly thankful that you delivered our kin from that nightmare… however, I fear we cannot fulfill your wish.”

“May I inquire as to why?”

The atmosphere grew instantly oppressive at Alon’s query.

“Tragically… Lord Yongrin gave her life for our sake.”

The one to shatter the silence was Rioche, who had been quiet up to that point.

“…What are you saying—”

Rangban was the first to respond.

He appeared bewildered, as though hearing this news for the very first time.

“Allow me to clarify the Union’s current predicament.”

Surang let out a heavy sigh and began to outline the state of affairs with a grim expression.

Thirty minutes later,

“…That is the reality we face.”

The report Alon received at the round table was far graver than he had anticipated.

He looked around at the silent monarchs.

Then, exhaling a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, he began sorting the facts in his mind.

Shortly after the black beings were neutralized through the sacrifices of dragons, mages, and countless others, the worshippers of Baarma launched an offensive from the human territories.

In reaction, the various races hastily established a union to resist them.

Yet, due to the fallout from previous conflicts, the alliance had been fighting an uphill battle from the start.

Then, during the decisive engagement a month prior—just as they faced total annihilation—

Yongrin sacrificed herself, purchasing them two months of respite.

‘Is that the reason they retracted the battle lines? Were they plotting something?’

As Alon was organizing his thoughts, Surang muttered with a scowl.

“Damn those human wretches… if only they hadn’t fled—”

Surang ground his teeth in pure frustration.

Witnessing this, Alon inquired,

“On our journey here, Rangban mentioned a human alliance. Did they desert you?”

“No. They never offered aid to begin with.”

“…They provided no assistance whatsoever?”

“Precisely. Those accursed cowards realized Baarma was targeting us, not them, and withdrew. Then, upon discovering Baarma was linked to the black beings, they have feigned ignorance ever since… scoundrels.”

Now, Alon finally grasped why Rangban had displayed such open aggression when discussing the human alliance.

He pressed on with his questions.

“What do you mean by ‘Baarma and the black beings are connected’?”

This time, Kalanda responded.

“It is exactly as stated. The apostles of Baarma wield a power akin to that of the black beings.”

“A power similar to the black beings?”

“Correct.”

“…I believe I have a handle on the general situation. So, is the Union currently gearing up for the final confrontation scheduled in a month’s time?”

Kalanda sighed with even greater weight than before.

“We are readying ourselves for the last stand… but the odds are not in our favor.”

“…Is there an issue?”

Just as Alon asked, and Kalanda prepared to reply—

…?

A brief disturbance occurred outside, followed by a rap on the door.

A soldier rushed in and whispered a message into Surang’s ear.

“…?”

Surang’s face immediately darkened.

“…It appears I must depart.”

“What has happened?”

“A complication has arisen with our preparations. My apologies, but we must resume this discussion tomorrow.”

He stood up and hastened out of the room.

Amid the sudden confusion, those remaining exchanged puzzled glances—

“I suppose I should accompany him.”

Rioche, wearing a stern expression, followed Surang.

Alon, seeing no alternative, was about to stand when—

“One moment.”

Kalanda, who had stayed behind, suddenly looked up at Alon.

“Thank you.”

He bowed deeply.

“…?”

Alon was momentarily taken aback by the unexpected gesture.

“Had it not been for you, my daughter would have perished.”

“Your daughter…?”

“Yes. She is entering right now.”

Following the direction of Kalanda’s hand, Alon turned—

And beheld a human girl walking in, as though she had been waiting for this cue.

A girl who seemed oddly familiar.

Alon tilted his head slightly—

“…You are that girl from earlier?”

The memory flooded back.

She was the refugee he had saved during their last escape from the front lines—the one who had been the first to thank him.

As Alon stared at her in a daze, the girl smiled, unclasped the bracelet from her wrist—

And with that, her visage began to transform.

Her cropped hair lengthened into flowing tresses.

Her brown irises shifted into the characteristic pale blue of the elves.

And then—

“Allow me to introduce myself once more, Lord.”

She bowed again.

“My name is Magrina, Princess of Fildagreen.”

“…Ah.”

Alon exhaled a soft breath without realizing it.