Became the Patron of Villains Novel MTL - Chapter 258

Chapter 258

Alon moved forward, gazing vacantly at the urban sprawl spread out before him.

The wreckage stood exactly as it had seven centuries prior.

How had he failed to notice this earlier?

He remained lost in contemplation for only a brief moment.

Emerging from the long tunnel, he stepped into the ruins proper.

And Alon’s conviction deepened.

This place had undoubtedly been the capital of the other races.

Several questions bubbled up in his mind.

‘Why is it located underground?’

To the best of Alon’s recollection, although the sky had been gray, it was definitely visible from the capital of the other races.

While one might see the sky if the ceiling here were breached, this location was unmistakably buried deep underground.

Another query soon followed.

‘And the name of this ruin is the City of the Old God, Kahara… Ah.’

Then, realization struck Alon.

There was no need to obsess over that detail.

‘The City of the Old God, Kahara’ wasn’t an inherent name derived from something discovered here.

It was likely just a designation assigned by the first explorer who stumbled upon the wreckage.

While some mysteries remained, others were resolved with unexpected ease.

Having organized his thoughts to some extent, Alon spoke up. “I’m heading out.”

“I will wait right here, Master!”

“Have a safe journey.”

“Right.”

After receiving farewells from Seolrang and Evan, he began walking toward the center.

The individual who could provide answers to his lingering questions was there.

“Phew—”

Upon reaching the tower situated in the heart of the ruins, Alon began his ascent without a second thought.

At the peak of the tower, a place he hadn’t visited in a very long time,

[It has been a while.]

He beheld the figure of a god, appearing quite different from before.

[Oh?]

Perhaps sensing Alon’s reaction, the deity looked down at him with a smile.

Alon stared up at the figure.

The first detail he noticed was long, azure hair flowing down to the waist.

Next were eyes so blue they seemed to border on frost.

And finally, a long, graceful blue tail.

[Hmm? Did you fall for me now that you’ve seen my true form?]

The dragonkin chuckled, acting as though she had found an amusing new plaything in Alon’s reaction.

However, Alon wasn’t staring at the dragonkin because he was captivated by her charm.

It was because a specific connection had just sparked within his mind.

A link that allowed him to deduce the true name of the god standing before him.

After a moment of silence, Alon spoke.

“…Yongrin?”

He said the name as if seeking confirmation.

At that, her previously smiling expression underwent a subtle shift.

[…I never told you my name.]

She questioned him.

Then, as if a realization hit her, Yongrin’s eyes went wide.

[…How did you meet Dowon?]

She instantly deduced the part Alon had left unspoken.

Yongrin’s expression turned into a mix of complexity and mystery.

After a brief pause, Alon spoke.

“…It might be difficult to believe, but I traveled to the past.”

He slowly began to narrate the experiences he had gone through.

[Is that true?]

“Yes.”

Unlike before, when she always remained perched high on a bookshelf forcing Alon to look up, Yongrin had now descended to his eye level.

Having heard the entire story, she displayed clear skepticism.

[Well… I suppose it would be stranger not to believe it, considering Dowon’s traces are still present.]

Soon, she nodded as if accepting the situation.

“…Then, you really are Yongrin?”

[Yes.]

“But if my memory serves, didn’t you claim you sealed yourself away because you were afraid to fight the Black Ones?”

As the dragonkin—or rather, Yongrin—nodded, Alon asked the question that had been nagging him.

The entity Alon had fought was Baarma, not the Black Ones.

In response, Yongrin rolled her eyes and glanced at Alon.

“?”

Alon tilted his head, confused.

After dodging the question for a moment, Yongrin finally spoke.

[…Don’t people often tell you that you’re a bit slow on the uptake?]

“Slow on the uptake?”

[Haa—]

She let out a long, weary sigh.

[…Yeah, you’re right. I did say that when we first met.]

“So, was I mistaken?”

[Of course not.]

“Then?”

At Alon’s persistent follow-up, Yongrin sighed once more.

[Th—]

She blushed slightly and shouted.

[I just said it like that, okay!?]

“Why?”

[Why, you ask—]

Yongrin fidgeted with her bangs for no reason.

Her fingers twisted and twirled strands of her hair.

Unable to meet Alon’s gaze directly, she turned her head away.

[Well, wouldn’t it sound pathetic? The other gods fought the Black Ones and vanished in a grand legend, but I… I survived, only to run away during the Baarma incident, using sacrifice as an excuse.]

She mumbled, her expression turning slightly gloomy.

“…But didn’t you actually buy time with your sacrifice?”

Alon asked, but Yongrin shook her head.

[No, it was running away. Back then, I was the one leading them. I should have taken responsibility until the very end. But ultimately—]

She stared into the empty air, as if replaying the past, then murmured.

[I passed the responsibility onto them instead of bearing it myself.]

“Even so, didn’t you buy them time through your sacrifice?”

[That doesn’t matter. What matters is that, despite holding authority over those who worshipped me, I failed to fulfill my duty.]

Alon was about to interject but closed his mouth.

Not only was he someone who couldn’t fully comprehend the weight Yongrin carried, but he also had no desire to trample on values she held dear under the guise of offering comfort.

The importance of values could vary vastly from person to person.

And Alon understood that fact very well.

So, instead of offering empty consolation, he said,

“Still, there was no one who resented you.”

[…What?]

“The soldiers, the king, all of them. They may have grieved your sacrifice, but none of them bore you any resentment.”

He stated the fact plainly.

[Thank you.]

“That’s sudden…?”

[If what you say is true, then had you not defeated Baarma, those who worshipped me wouldn’t have survived.]

Yongrin expressed her gratitude to Alon with genuine sincerity.

Immediately after that—

[…You can’t hear anything?]

“Yeah, I couldn’t hear a thing even after holding onto it for a few months.”

Alon produced the jewel and handed it to Yongrin.

This was the reason he had intended to visit her in the first place.

[Hmm~]

Yongrin furrowed her brow as she examined the jewel with intensity.

Then, as if she had discovered the issue, she let out a quiet exclamation.

[It looks like it suffered a shock.]

“A shock?”

[Yes, this jewel was originally reconstructed using the divine power I had left, but it seems some other divine force seeped into it and caused a misalignment.]

“It wasn’t just an ordinary gem?”

[It contains the soul of a mage. Of course, it’s not a regular jewel.]

Yongrin levitated the red gem into the air and began constructing geometric patterns around it.

The patterns were distinct—somewhat foreign compared to the divine power and magic Alon was accustomed to.

After a short while—

[All done.]

“…Is it finished now?”

[Yes. You should be able to communicate again in about a day.]

Yongrin returned the ring to Alon.

[By the way, did you finally manage to acquire your own spell technique?]

“Yeah.”

[So, what law did you distort?]

“I thought you already knew.”

[I do know it involves something about reversing the heavens, but I’m not exactly sure what specific kind of law it is.]

At Yongrin’s inquiry, Alon paused to think.

“It’s a power that overturns the laws of magic.”

He admitted.

“…What?”

Yongrin’s previously relaxed eyes widened once again.

“??”

A visibly shocked expression.

Alon was puzzled by her reaction.

The Apostle of Purity wore a deeply displeased expression.

He was merely walking toward the entrance of the communal cavern.

So why did he look so annoyed?

Was it because someone had shown him disrespect?

No.

Was the cave too dim?

No.

Was it the tension of meeting the one waiting at the end of this cave?

Not that either.

Certainly, the entity at the end of this path—

The very thing he had come to see, this vessel of Purity—

Was a being that even the Apostle of Purity had to be wary of.

But that wasn’t the source of his displeasure.

What truly irritated him—

…Why is the lighting only installed on one side?

Was the fact that the cave was illuminated solely on one side.

Unable to smooth out his frown, the Apostle of Purity clicked his tongue.

“Tch—”

He snapped his fingers sharply.

And in that instant—

Bzzzzzt—!

The lights that had gently illuminated the cave a moment prior were all cleanly severed and crashed to the floor.

As if sliced by a single stroke.

“Phew—”

Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief.

With lighter steps, he soon arrived at a massive cavern.

At the center of the cavern, he saw a man and a woman standing behind his chair.

Two individuals possessing chillingly unnatural auras.

The Apostle focused his gaze on the man among them.

A smile twisted onto his lips.

He had reviewed the data on him several times, but the reality surpassed all expectations.

It was almost to the point where he could summon that one right now without any further preparation.

But of course, the Apostle had no intention of doing so just yet.

The vessel offered to that great being must be endlessly perfect.

That was why he had come here—to ensure that perfection.

“Nice to meet you.”

The Apostle greeted him with a smile.

The seated man looked at him without expression.

“You’re the merchant, then?”

“Rather than a merchant, I see myself as someone who shares hope.”

Speaking of hope, the Apostle pulled out a cube.

The man glanced at the cube.

“Hope? That’s hope?”

“To those without power, it certainly is. Just absorbing it grants strength. Wasn’t that why you requested this meeting—because you were interested in this?”

He spoke confidently, as if he already knew everything.

A moment of silence passed.

“So, what’s the price?”

At Nangwon’s follow-up, the Apostle’s lips curled into a smile.

The vessel, who was rumored to be obsessed with power.

Just as he’d heard, the man clearly showed strong interest in the essence of the abyss.

As events played out exactly as he had predicted, the Apostle felt pleased.

And then he stated the price he had in mind.

“Money isn’t necessary. I just want you to take care of someone.”

To easily remove a troublesome nuisance.

“Alon Palatio—the Marquis of the Kingdom of Asteria.”

The Apostle uttered the name.

With a satisfied smile.

And then—

“…Alon Palatio?”

“Yes.”

The Apostle replied.

“You want me to take care of him?”

“That’s right.”

That was when something felt off.

“…?”

Nothing had physically changed.

The King of Curses still sat in his place, looking down at the Apostle.

The woman behind him remained as she was.

But then—

Shiver—!

His body… refused to move.

As if he had been paralyzed by something.

In that moment—

“….”

The Apostle realized it.

Why his body wouldn’t move.

It was killing intent.

A viscous, suffocating intent to kill, so potent that even his instincts had failed to register it initially, had wrapped tightly around his body.

And the next moment—

“You want me to… take care of my brother…?”

The Apostle saw it.

“If you’re running your mouth just to piss me off—”

From deep within the abyss, they began to stretch out—

“Then let me say this sincerely… Good job.”

Countless hands.

So many that they couldn’t be counted.