Became the Patron of Villains Novel MTL - Chapter 285

C285. Deal (4)

 

An explosive roar rumbled as the mountain collapsed, as if everything that had happened was erased from the beginning.

Everything happened so fast that no one could even scream.

“……I-it’s impossible.”

In the silence that followed, Evan’s murmur echoed like thunder in everyone’s ears.

But no one there could deny his words.

The reasons were various.

Some, like Evan, were simply overwhelmed by the phenomenon that Ria had caused, but Alon Palatio was surprised by something completely different.

‘I didn’t see any trace of mana?’

Alon Palatio was a mage, but also a 5th-level sorcerer.

That’s why, ever since he fought the first Apostle, he had been able to follow the trail of residual mana with his eyes.

However, Historia’s thrust left no remnant.

Not an echo of mana.

As if she hadn’t used magic from the start.

When Alon Palatio turned his gaze toward Penia, she had the same expression: how the hell did she do it?

Even if she was a swordswoman, using mana was something natural…

While Alon Palatio remained bewildered by the unresolved enigma, he felt a soft touch wrapping around his waist.

It was Historia.

“I’m done. Let’s go.”

Historia did not show the slightest sign of tiredness.

Seeing her like that, Alon Palatio fell into another sudden doubt:

‘…She’s even stronger than I thought.’

He already knew that Historia was strong. In Psychedelia, she was one of the Seven Greats.

But what she had just shown completely surpassed what he remembered.

Historia looked at him, tilting her head slightly, barely moving her ears before slowly letting go of her tail.

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Where to?”

“There’s still someone.”

“……Inside there?”

Alon Palatio took one last look at what had been a valley and was now just a pulverized mountain of dirt, and went down with Historia.

They found a man there.

A man crushed under an enormous pile of rocks, his body in pieces.

“!”

The scene was horrific even for Alon Palatio.

The man’s lower half had disappeared beneath a gigantic boulder, the size of several dozens of adults.

But what truly surprised Alon Palatio wasn’t the brutality of the picture.

‘……The Martyr of Everything?’

The Martyr of Everything.

The leader of the self-sacrificing fanatics.

In Psychedelia, when that organization wasn’t stopped in time, he awakened as an abomination called The Famine of Manra.

That was the man in front of them.

“Kaak—!”

The Martyr spat dark blood.

Death was imminent.

But Alon Palatio felt no compassion.

The self-sacrificing ones were a cruel and twisted group.

They were capable of massacring without batting an eye if it was necessary for their rituals.

They would even burn a newborn life without hesitation.

Nevertheless, Alon Palatio remained confused.

‘It’s possible that members of the cult are here… but The Martyr of Everything? That is… strange.’

He knew that the original story had been twisted several times. He knew that the future he knew was no longer reliable.

But even taking that into account, it was strange that the Martyr—who should be in the Allied Kingdom—was here.

At that moment—

“Dam…ned…”

The Martyr’s eyes, full of blood, clouded with resentment.

And with a thread of a voice full of rancor and desperation:

“If it weren’t… for those blue eyes…”

His voice, tinged with ashes, barely came out.

“Even… still… there would have… been hope—”

With that final, rancorous murmur, he died without being able to finish his sentence.

Alon Palatio, who watched him from above in silence, muttered:

“…Blue… eyes?”

He remembered those words.

Historia and the group returned to the Magistrate without wasting time, having eliminated the fanatics in the blink of an eye.

And that night—

“So it’s not that you didn’t use magic, but that you compressed it to an extreme level… And then integrated it into a body technique to that extent…!”

“Mhm.”

“That’s incredible…!”

Alon Palatio watched in silence as Historia explained her sword technique to Penia, who looked at her with shining eyes.

“My lord marquis.”

“What is it?”

“You said that this Historia was someone you had met in the past, didn’t you?”

Evan, sitting beside him, asked in a low voice.

“Well… yes. Why?”

Evan pursed his lips slightly before answering:

“It’s just… I’ve seen several of the people you met in the past, remember?”

“Yes.”

“But this girl… doesn’t feel as ‘dramatic’ as the others.”

“Ah… I see what you mean.”

“Right?”

It was true.

The people Alon Palatio had reunited with so far had had more emotional moments—perhaps not dramatic, but an air of significant reunion.

“But… isn’t it normal for it to be like this? It’s just meeting someone after a long time.”

“After seven hundred years, there should be something more, don’t you think? Well, I did see her hug you with her tail, but…”

“……You think so?”

“Don’t you?”

Alon Palatio shrugged.

“Historia was always like that.”

“Really?”

Alon Palatio remembered the Historia of the past.

She was never very talkative.

Even when he saved her centuries ago, she barely showed a slight smile before returning to her neutral expression.

With others, it was always difficult to know what she was thinking.

‘Although… yes, maybe it was a reunion that was too… natural to be after 700 years.’

Unlike Magrina or Nangwon, he hadn’t talked that much with Historia.

…Or rather, he hadn’t been able to.

‘Historia always answers with a single sentence.’

It was rare to maintain a conversation of more than three exchanges with her.

Perhaps that’s why he felt that strange sensation.

But even so—

“It’s fine.”

Alon Palatio didn’t try to draw her into a long chat.

He knew that their relationship had never been awkward.

“It’s better to sleep.”

After watching Penia and Historia for a while, Alon Palatio lay down.

Later, in the middle of the night—

Penia, who was sleeping with an uncomfortable expression, let out a moan and sat up while rubbing her back.

This bed is awful…

As the sub-master of the Blue Tower, Penia had traveled to many places, but rarely slept outdoors.

Although she had some experience—especially during the war, when she had traveled to the past with Alon Palatio—she never quite got used to it.

Grumbling to herself, she looked at the others who were sleeping peacefully.

And then—

“…?”

She noticed that Radan and Historia were gone.

Penia was curious only for a moment.

She instinctively extended a faint trace of mana and detected voices in the distance.

She advanced carefully. And she found Radan and Historia awake.

Then—

“I’ll give you some advice.”

“?”

“Don’t get too close to the lord marquis.”

Penia felt a strange sense of déjà vu seeing the seriousness with which Radan was warning Historia.

Where have I seen this…?

While she was trying to remember—

“Why?”

“Don’t do it.”

“Why?”

“…You simply don’t match him.”

Penia, who was watching them, finally remembered.

…This is exactly like that scene.

A romance novel she read out of curiosity a long time ago.

It was a typical story where a young noble fell in love with a commoner.

In the novel, when the noble mother noticed her son’s love, she confronted the commoner:

“My son is not for you. Stay away from him.”

The scene was almost identical.

The only difference was that, in this version, the role of the ‘noble mother’ was being played by Radan.

‘……And he looks quite serious.’

Penia wondered why Radan was warning Historia like this.

Even if he appreciated Alon Palatio, this seemed excessive.

Thinking and thinking—

…It can’t be.

She came up with a possible explanation.

Could Radan… be in love with Historia?

Penia remembered what had happened recently.

Radan had been silent and rigid since Historia returned, constantly following her with his gaze.

Every time he saw Alon Palatio and Historia together, his expression became uneasy.

That thought, which began as a guess, began to make sense.

Penia opened her mouth involuntarily.

The reality, of course, was different.

Radan was not nervous about Historia, but about the shining brooch on Alon Palatio’s chest, which gave him an ominous premonition.

But Penia couldn’t know that.

That’s why—

“…Listen to my words. If you stay close to him, nothing good will happen.”

“No.”

As Penia listened to the conversation, she began to devise a plan.

A plan to help Radan.

…More exactly:

A plan to help him and in exchange gain total access to the artifacts he possessed, to study him as much as she wanted.

Before Radan could say more, Historia simply turned around and disappeared.

“Damn it…”

Radan grabbed his head, letting out a groan.

Penia barely contained a dark smile before stealthily retreating like a cat.

The next morning—

“You can trust me.”

“…What’s wrong with your face? I already know everything. Hehehe.”

Penia suddenly approached Radan, smiling strangely.

Did he get sick yesterday? Radan thought, looking away uncomfortably.

About two weeks passed like this.

And finally—

“We have arrived.”

“Oh!”

Alon Palatio and his group finally arrived at the capital of the Eastern Kingdom: Seonju.