Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 309 : Raksas (5)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
“What is the meaning of your statement?”
Alon’s brow furrowed in confusion as he sought clarification on what he had just been told.
The predecessor repeated her explanation calmly.
[It is exactly as I described. However, are you familiar with the curse placed upon the Elves?]
“I am.”
He knew of the Elven curse well.
It was a spell cast by the True Mage aligned with the dark forces, the one referred to as the "Closed-Eyed One," which slashed the natural lifespan of the Elves to a mere quarter of its original length.
As Alon recounted the details of that blight—
[Precisely. Just as the lifespans of the Elves were truncated by the Closed-Eyed One, the True Mages were also subjected to a curse—though, perhaps 'curse' is not the most fitting term. I wonder what phrasing would be more appropriate...]
The predecessor paused, lost in thought for a second.
[Indeed, this is more precise. We shall refer to it as 'erasure.']
She spoke the word firmly.
“...Erasure?”
[Yes. The dark ones, guided by the Closed-Eyed One, deleted the True Mages. They did not simply kill them; they scrubbed their very existence and the concepts they had etched into the fabric of the world until nothing remained.]
“...For what reason?”
[Did you not claim to understand the curse of the Elves?]
“How is that related to this?”
The predecessor briefly looked bewildered before letting out a soft "Ah" and continuing her explanation.
[I see. You are aware that the Elves suffer from a curse, but you remain ignorant of the motive behind it.]
“Would you be willing to explain that motive?”
[The reason is so basic it is almost trivial. They were a danger to the Sins. That is the entirety of it.]
“A danger...?”
[Correct.]
The Observer gave a few slow nods as she elaborated.
[The True Mages were a threat to the Sins. Even though they all perished, the Sins ultimately failed to reach their objective. Consequently, the Closed-Eyed One erased the True Mages from the annals of the world.]
The goal was to ensure no entity known as a True Mage could ever get in the way of the Sins again.
It was done so that the gears of fate would turn without interference.
As the predecessor spoke in a low murmur, Alon pressed further.
“Then the Elves were also—”
[It follows the same logic. Because of their immense lifespans, they had the potential to produce a hero capable of halting the Sins. The curse was applied to prevent that. It was designed so that nothing could challenge the absolute path of destiny.]
Alon fell into a thoughtful silence.
The logic escaped him.
“...Why?”
[What specifically are you questioning?]
“Why is the Closed-Eyed One so obsessed with the destruction of this world?”
Alon found many things baffling.
Why did the creator of the Sins still treat him with a degree of favor? How could magic that was supposedly erased by the Closed-Eyed One still function in this reality?
Yet, the most perplexing mystery of all was the core of it—
What was the purpose behind creating the Sins? Why seek the world's end?
He voiced these questions, but the predecessor only watched him silently.
Her gaze was steady and quiet.
"...?"
In that stillness, Alon picked up on a peculiar detail.
Initially, he assumed the predecessor was making direct eye contact with him.
She was not.
When Alon focused on her eyes, he realized her line of sight was shifted slightly to the side.
Then, she spoke abruptly—
[May I pose a question to you?]
“Go ahead.”
[What is the extent of your knowledge?]
“...My knowledge?”
[Yes. Quite literally—what do you understand about this world? Do not worry about the length; simply tell me everything you know.]
Though confused by the sudden inquiry, Alon began to recount his knowledge slowly.
“That summarizes everything I know.”
Once he concluded, the predecessor adopted a contemplative look before speaking again—
[I understand your curiosity. However, the answers cannot be given to you.]
“...And why is that?”
She offered her final verdict.
[Because your eyes and ears are currently unable to perceive the truth.]
***
Shortly after Alon and Radan departed from the Observer’s presence—
Alon found himself staring vacantly at the sun high in the sky.
“Brother?”
“What is it?”
“You’ve been in a daze like that ever since we walked out of the cave.”
“...Is that so?”
“It is.”
Shaken out of his reverie by Radan’s comment, Alon tried to focus, but his mind quickly drifted back to the mystery.
—Your perception of the truth is veiled. No matter who you seek out, the truth will remain out of reach.
Reflecting on those words from the previous Observer, Alon realized something—
The predecessor never identified who that 'someone' was.
To be more exact, she was incapable of doing so.
Even so, this revelation didn't cause Alon to panic; it merely sharpened his interest.
He had two reasons for remaining composed.
First, even with the knowledge that his senses were being manipulated, his primary objective had not shifted.
His ultimate task was still the elimination of the Sins.
That mission remained his north star.
The second reason lay in her parting advice.
—Collect the artifacts and seek out that being. That entity will surely have the power to lift the veil from your eyes.
That was her instruction.
If he gathered the necessary items and met that being, the hand obscuring the truth would be removed.
Essentially, Alon’s path forward remained the same as before.
While he remained curious about the identity of the one hiding the truth, he resolved to be patient for now.
Having cleared his head, Alon turned his attention to Radan.
Radan appeared to be wrestling with his own concerns.
“Is something on your mind?”
“Oh.”
Radan jumped slightly, letting out a startled noise.
“Hmm—not really. It isn't anything major.”
He gave an awkward grin while scratching the back of his head.
Alon gave a simple nod of understanding, and with that—
“In that case, let us return.”
Leaving the eastern shore behind, they made their way back to Radan’s vessel, leaving further questions for another day.
***
“Can that... actually be true?”
"I’m dead serious! Why won't you believe me?"
Beran had been listening to the endless boasting of Karam—who had taken a position with Marquis Palatio's troops. After a month of grueling work in a dungeon, Beran was shocked by the news his friend Cop shared.
“So, those stories weren't just rumors?”
“Nope, they're real. People are losing their minds over it.”
The source of the excitement was the news Cop had brought.
“You mean Karam wasn't lying through his teeth?”
“He wasn't. Word is, if you perform acts of justice and provide proof, you’re allowed to train in that territory and tap into Kalannon’s power.”
Ironically, Beran and Cop were the ones who had started the rumor in the first place.
However, the tale had evolved and grown far beyond its original scope.
“Wow...”
A grin spread across Beran’s face as he stood up abruptly.
“Where are you headed?”
“Where do you think? I need to get a piece of this action.”
“Wait, hold on a second—”
Ignoring Cop, Beran sprinted out the door with a beaming smile, heading straight for the Mercenary Guild.
His plan was simple: find a bandit extermination job.
Beran was aware that bandits were so common lately you could find them anywhere, so a formal request wasn't strictly necessary for hunting them.
However, he wanted the official pay and the specific coordinates provided by the guild.
If he was going to hunt, he might as well get paid and avoid wandering aimlessly through the woods.
Filled with anticipation, Beran charged into the Mercenary Guild.
“?”
He stared at the request board, completely baffled.
The board was massive, wide enough for ten men to stand side-by-side, and so tall that even Beran had to stretch to reach the top.
But something was very wrong—
A month ago, the board was covered in bandit hunting jobs, but now it was completely bare. There wasn't a single one left.
Beran checked the board again before turning to the receptionist.
“Excuse me, miss?”
“Oh, hello Beran.”
She looked up with a weary expression.
“Um, why is the board so empty? Are you guys doing some sort of spring cleaning?”
“Cleaning? Do we look like we ever clean this place?”
“Well, no, but there's nothing up there…”
“Wait. You seriously don't know?”
“Know what?”
“About Marquis Palatio.”
“…No way. You’re saying people are actually allowed into his territory?”
“Exactly. That is why every single bandit request has been snatched up.”
“…Are you for real?”
“I am.”
The receptionist nodded and then gestured toward the side.
“Look, someone is posting a new one now. It’s a bandit job.”
Beran watched as a staff member began pinning a fresh notice to the board.
Filled with hope, he moved toward it.
But the moment the paper touched the wood—
BAM!!
“MINE! IT'S MINE!!”
A dwarf appeared out of thin air and grabbed the paper.
It didn't last.
“Gah—!”
“It belongs to me!”
A human kicked the dwarf’s chin and snatched the request away.
“Get out of the way! Move it!”
A wolf beastkin then pounced, reaching for the scrap of paper.
“What's going on!?”
“Is that a job!?”
“Move, damn you!!!”
A flood of mercenaries poured into the guild, turning the lobby into a chaotic brawl.
“Sigh...”
“…What is this madness?”
Beran stood frozen in shock as the receptionist let out a tired groan.
Only then did he start to notice the bizarre sights around him.
“Please! Take me as a subordinate! I’m begging you!”
“Huh? You think a weakling like you can handle ‘bandits’??”
A-grade mercenaries were actually bowing to others just to join a bandit hunt that B-rankers would usually find trivial.
“Hey, I’ve got some top-tier Intel.”
“What? You found some hidden bandits?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Where? Tell me!”
“Out near the border zone.”
“No way... that’s a month-long journey! Let’s move—we leave right now!”
Groups of warriors were cheering like children for a job that would take a month to reach—and would likely be finished by someone else before they arrived.
And that wasn't all—
“Hey! I have information too!”
“What is it?”
“I found a bandit hideout!”
“Really!?”
“Well, it’s a village that looks like it might become a bandit camp eventually—”
“You moron, that’s just a farming village!! Are you trying to get struck down by the gods for faking an act of justice!?”
The sheer absurdity of the situation left Beran speechless.
“Hey! Bandits have been sighted in the northern woods!”
A loud shout echoed from the street outside.
“Move! I’m going!”
“Me too! Wait for me!”
“The request is mine!”
“GET OUT OF MY WAAAAAY!!!”
Without even confirming the truth of the shout, the mercenaries abandoned their fights and bolted out the door.
The guild, which had been packed seconds ago, was now hollow.
Beran remained standing in the center of the room, stunned.
In just one month, the very soul of Lartania had been transformed.
“…This is actually terrifying.”
He felt a strange, chilling sense of dread wash over him.