Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 310 : What Is This... (1)

The northern reaches of the Kingdom of Ashtalon were the setting.

Due to the climate of the north, a biting chill persisted here regardless of the changing seasons.

Zukurak stood mesmerized by the bizarre gate—

Or rather, his focus was fixed on an object that had emerged from its depths.

It was a spear, ravaged by rust.

The metal was so badly decayed that it appeared entirely useless for combat.

However, Zukurak wasn't interested in its utility; it was the physical design that gripped his attention.

He turned the weapon over in his grip, examining it from different angles.

The ravages of time made its original form difficult to identify with precision.

Nevertheless, he was certain of one fact.

This spear was a relic of a variety that did not exist within this world.

“Hmm~”

In truth, solving this mystery wasn't his concern.

The task Hazad had assigned him was not to study the gate’s origins, but simply to locate the power source and claim the “origin stone.”

Yet, a growing sense of wonder had taken hold of him.

This curiosity was fueled by the alien, shifting vistas he glimpsed every time he stepped beyond the gate’s threshold.

Zukurak sank deep into his reflections.

Suddenly—

“Are you curious?”

An unexpected voice shattered his focus, causing Zukurak’s eyes to bulge as he whipped his head around.

A figure was standing directly behind him.

The man wore black ceremonial robes, draped from top to bottom in a variety of heavy chains.

“...!”

A shiver of cold sweat trickled down Zukurak’s spine.

His fear didn't stem from the stranger's appearance.

Never, even after being empowered by Hazad, had he encountered such a situation.

His hyper-evolved senses, sharpened through repeated transcendence, had never failed to detect a living soul.

Not even Hazad, the source of his strength, could mask his presence from those senses.

And yet—

This individual had bypassed Zukurak’s perception entirely.

The concealment was so absolute that even now, with the man standing in plain sight—

Zukurak still couldn't feel a trace of his presence.

Driven by pure instinct, he summoned his weapon.

Boom—

With a flick of his wrist, a colossal hammer manifested.

The tool was larger than Zukurak himself, who stood over two meters tall—a massive weight that seemed impossible for any mortal to swing.

Yet Zukurak gripped the handle effortlessly with one hand, glaring at the robed figure with intense vigilance.

“Hm~ I didn't think my introduction was particularly aggressive. It seems your way of greeting guests is quite hostile.”

The man in black let out a relaxed laugh.

Then—tap—

He blurred across the distance instantly, lightly touching the hand Zukurak had begun to move in a reflexive strike.

The contact was incredibly gentle.

However, that was all it took—

“What~!”

Zukurak, who had intended to swing the hammer with explosive speed, found his entire frame paralyzed.

It felt as though he had never possessed the ability to move at all.

“Rrghhh~!”

With eyes turning bloodshot, Zukurak’s body erupted with a violent surge of magic power.

His muscles bulged to a monstrous degree, radiating a strength that looked capable of crushing the stranger instantly.

But—

“Don't exert yourself so much. You won't be moving regardless.”

“What is this—”

While Zukurak fought against the invisible bind, the robed man remained calm, reaching into his garments to retrieve an object.

He rested it upon Zukurak’s arm—

And then—

“!!”

Zukurak’s flesh began to stain black.

As the corruption took hold, the stranger picked up the rusted spear Zukurak had dropped.

“Since I’ve provided you with a body that seems to suit you, I suppose a gift is in order.”

He gave the spear a light practiced swing, watching Zukurak struggle against the paralysis as the blackness slowly consumed him.

“The gate is a fragment.”

The words were spoken clearly.

But Zukurak failed to process them.

He was incapable of listening.

“Rrgh~!”

His mind was consumed by the desperate need to break free.

The capillaries in his eyes burst from the strain.

His over-taxed muscles began to tear internally.

“It is a fragment belonging to a different world.”

The man’s tone remained casual as he continued.

Then—

The moment the dark substance crawling up Zukurak’s arm reached his mind—

The final thing he heard was—

“The Eyes’—”

A dry, hollow voice, followed by—

“Fragment.”

A glimpse of golden irises—dozens of concentric circles layered in a grotesque pattern.

***

Roughly one week later—

“Well, I'll see you again.”

“I understand, Brother.”

Upon returning to the mainland, Alon bid farewell to Radan and they went their separate ways.

“You looked a bit troubled. Did you pick up on something?”

Evan spoke from behind, his eyes fixed on the departing vessel.

Alon gave a slight nod.

“I noticed.”

“Shouldn't you have questioned him about it?”

Evan’s inquiry was logical.

Alon had clearly seen Radan’s visible anxiety but had chosen to remain silent.

Alon shook his head in response.

“If he didn't bring it up himself, there's no point in forcing the issue.”

He thought back to Radan’s expression.

The smile Radan had given was strained enough for anyone to see through.

It was obvious he didn't want to discuss his burdens.

Had Alon pressed him, Radan would have felt obligated to answer, effectively forcing him to unload a weight he wasn't ready to share.

That was why Alon kept quiet.

If Radan stayed silent, he must have had his reasons.

After watching the ship for a few more moments—

“Time to go.”

Alon turned toward the waiting carriage.

As he prepared to step inside—

“Hm?”

“What's wrong?”

“It’s just... the carriage is remarkably clean.”

“Is that an issue?”

“Well, it’s been sitting here for about a month, hasn't it?”

“That's true.”

“Usually, after that much time, you'd expect at least a layer of dust.”

Alon nodded, considering Evan’s point.

He hadn't really been looking for dust, but the observation was valid.

Wuuuuum~!

Feeling a sense of caution, Alon cast a spell to probe the carriage.

Aside from the suspicious lack of dirt, everything appeared normal.

“Let's just depart for now.”

“Yes, well...”

The two entered the carriage and set off.

Inside, Blackie and Basiliora were preoccupied with a board game resembling chess, which they had apparently learned recently.

[Kuhahaha!!]

[Meow.]

Watching Basiliora’s clumsy strategy and Blackie using his small paws to calmly move his pieces, Alon began to organize his thoughts on their next steps.

The Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead.

The Crying Blessing.

The Jewel of the Closed-Eyed One.

Fortunately, Alon was already aware of the locations for two of these three artifacts.

The process of acquiring them wouldn't even be particularly difficult.

However, the Jewel of the Closed-Eyed One had never even surfaced in the game Psychedelia, leaving him with no starting point.

If anyone held a clue, it would be Nangwon, the head of the intelligence guild.

[I've won, you brainless beast! This proves your intellect is inferior to—gaaahh!]

[Meow-]

While Alon was lost in contemplation—

Blackie had pinned Basiliora’s head to the game board with a paw, asserting total dominance over the match.

Despite Basiliora’s tail thrashing in frustration, Blackie held the tiny snake head down firmly.

Observing this, Alon had a sudden thought—

Naturally, it was impossible for Blackie to reach full maturity in just a year or two.

But given that his growth accelerated with everything he consumed, the worry didn't last long.

“Marquis. Something I forgot to mention earlier just crossed my mind.”

“Is it something important?”

“Not exactly. It’s just... thanks to you, the bandits have practically gone extinct.”

“?”

“?”

“What are you talking about?”

Alon tilted his head, confused by the statement.

“To be honest, I don't quite grasp it myself—”

Evan wore a conflicted expression as he began to explain the situation in detail.

A short time passed.

......

“So you're saying that if someone kills bandits and shows proof, they are granted entry into the Divine Land of the Palatio Marquisate?”

“?????”

A flurry of questions raced through Alon’s mind.

“Who would even start such a rumor?”

“I'm not sure...”

“Just to be certain, we never actually issued an official notice like that, did we?”

“Of course not. We kept the public notice vague, exactly as you ordered.”

“Then how did it turn into a recruitment drive for bandit hunters— No, wait.”

He massaged his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

“More importantly, why is everyone so desperate to enter the Divine Land?”

“It seems a specific rumor is spreading.”

“A rumor?”

“Yes. Word is going around that training within the Divine Land allows one to wield Kalannon’s power. Something to that effect.”

“...I have to ask. We didn't leak that, did we?”

“Absolutely not.”

Evan gave a firm denial, leaving Alon in a stunned silence.

No matter how he analyzed it—

He couldn't fathom how a simple request for “righteous people” had mutated into “bring proof of dead bandits to enter Shinto and train with the power of Kalannon!”

He was left with a lingering, uncomfortable sensation.

***

Several months had passed since the destruction of Fildagreen by Sin.

With the assistance of human wizards, the city had been largely rebuilt, returning to its former glory.

Within a royal chamber—

Rine was seated.

With a calm demeanor, she sipped her tea.

Creeaak—

When the door swung open, she looked up, her face showing a hint of surprise.

A person who shouldn't have been there was standing in the doorway.

“Oh my.”

That individual was—

“Yutia, what brings you here?”

It was Yutia Bludia.

Framed by the blue moonlight with her iconic red eyes glowing, Yutia stood before Rine.

“Don't act so shocked, Rine. Surely Hidan told you.”

“I simply didn't expect you to arrive at this moment.”

“Knowing you, you likely sensed my approach anyway.”

She offered a smile as she spoke.

“Oh, you caught that?”

“Yes.”

Following their brief pleasantries—

A freezing silence filled the room.

A heavy, oppressive quiet.