Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 319 : Ryanga (1)

The northern reaches of the Ashtalon Kingdom.

“...This is gruesome.”

“Truly.”

“What kind of madness occurred here?”

A horrific slaughter had transformed the woods into an unrecognizable site, drenched in shredded remains and gore.

Three figures stood amidst the carnage.

Palmaon the Dragon Lance.

Cheonnyeonbing the Barbarian.

The Hidden Swordsman of the Cliff.

Each possessed devastating might and were recognized among the Seven Great Powers of the Allied Kingdom.

They could only shake their heads as they surveyed the fragments of flesh strewn about.

“Sss— I’m beginning to wonder if accepting this commission was a mistake. This looks like it could become troublesome.”

Palmaon remarked, clutching a spear that appeared twice as tall as himself.

“I concur.”

Dressed in Eastern attire, the Hidden Swordsman nodded his head.

“Didn’t you both come here because there was a profit to be made?”

Faced with Cheonnyeonbing’s blunt observation, Palmaon and the Swordsman cleared their throats before answering.

“Well, that is true.”

“If not for that peculiar stone…”

The Gwaemun Stone.

It was a mysterious artifact that even the intelligence guild failed to properly identify; news of it had only been whispered to elite warriors under the strictest secrecy.

Its function was similar to that of an Abyssal Core.

However, the Gwaemun Stone was fundamentally different from Abyssal Cores.

For starters, it did not cause the corruption of magical energy.

Depending on its Gwaemun of origin, it could even bestow unique supplementary abilities.

Essentially, it was a tool for increasing power without risk—unlike Abyssal Cores, which merely boosted the magic of the weak but offered no benefit to the strong.

In contrast, the Gwaemun Stone provided extra strength regardless of the user's current level.

The first person to speak of it was a renowned powerhouse, and these three had assembled at the behest of King Shtalian V, who pledged to provide the stone upon the completion of a specific task.

“I didn't realize Ashtalon was covertly gathering Gwaemun Stones. It seems they already possessed some insight.”

Palmaon’s remark lingered in the cold air.

“Well, as long as we receive our payment, let’s not dally. We should finish this quickly and depart.”

“Agreed. We cannot linger here indefinitely.”

“They mentioned it was just up ahead?”

“Indeed.”

Following the Hidden Swordsman’s confirmation, Cheonnyeonbing and Palmaon nodded, venturing deeper into the woods.

As they progressed, the metallic scent of blood grew heavier, and the evidence of massacre became more frequent.

Even the stoic expressions of these masters began to tighten with a sense of dread.

It wasn't merely the stomach-turning scene that bothered them.

They were veterans of countless horrors and wouldn't be rattled by gore alone.

What caused all three to tense was the bizarre energy permeating the atmosphere.

“This mission... a single Gwaemun Stone might be far from sufficient compensation.”

“We will need a serious negotiation if we return from this.”

“There is no doubt about that…”

While conversing as they moved, the three warriors finally reached the source of the vibration.

And what they discovered—

—was nothing at all.

No, they were unable to see anything.

Because the moment they reached the epicenter—

—their eyes were forced shut.

It was not by their own choice.

“What the—”

Schlunk—

The next sensation they registered was the feeling of a blade sliding through their hearts.

“Ghk—!”

“Urgh—!”

Speech failed them.

They could not open their eyes.

They could not move a muscle.

They could not even reach for their weapons.

They were utterly powerless.

The bodies of Palmaon and the Swordsman hit the ground without a fight.

Two of the Seven Great Powers—extinguished in a heartbeat.

And the final one.

Cheonnyeonbing.

With a blade buried in his chest, he was equally paralyzed.

Just as his consciousness began to fade into the dark void, he heard—

“I’m sorry—”

A voice.

“I’m sorry.”

A voice.

“I didn’t want to do this either.”

It was so faint.

“But this is all for your sake.”

A voice.

“So please, die.”

Those were the final words Cheonnyeonbing heard in this life.

***

Alon stared at the divine force that had expanded to the magnitude of a planet—matching his own physical form—with a look of utter bewilderment.

His divinity had increased?

Normally, that would be considered a blessing.

As Rine had mentioned, he had simply been storing divine power within the Divine Land without truly understanding its essence.

But ‘divinity’ by definition meant an escalation in rank.

Even so, Alon was left speechless.

The growth had far exceeded any of his projections.

“It’s reaching the level of the Primordial Elf... No, perhaps it has even surpassed it...?”

It wasn't as if Alon was a stranger to collecting divinity.

Nevertheless, the power within the Divine Land had already slightly eclipsed that of the Primordial Elf.

Until now, Alon had ignored the emergence of these mysterious divine forces.

But the situation had changed.

He had only intended to create a few minor things he thought might be helpful...

Ever since the warped rumors began to spread and mercenaries started flocking in—

And especially now that they were enlisting massive numbers of soldiers and knights—his simple dream had spiraled out of control.

Still, Alon tried to maintain that perspective.

“Hmph…”

As he brooded, Evan, who was standing nearby, spoke up.

“You’ve been acting strange for a while. What’s the matter?”

“I think the divinity has become excessive.”

“Excessive?”

“Doesn't it seem odd to you?”

“Well... but isn't that a positive development?”

“Is it?”

“Isn't it fantastic? You’re basically getting stronger just by sitting there, right?”

Evan made an animated gesture, as if the divinity were multiplying on its own.

Since the logic wasn't entirely flawed, Alon took a seat.

“Regardless, something is definitely happening in the Divine Land. I need to look into it.”

“Understood. I’ll investigate the moment we reach the next town.”

Alon continued his trek toward the Ronovelli Jungle.

Roughly a week later, they arrived at Castleut—the seat of the Duchy of Luxible—a necessary stop on their route to the jungle.

He hadn't returned since his last promise to visit.

However, since meeting Ryanga was the current goal, Alon moved without delay.

After disembarking from the carriage and strolling through Castleut, he was suddenly struck by a peculiar feeling.

It felt as though every citizen in the territory was unable to look away from him.

When Alon turned to look back, they would avert their eyes—only to immediately start whispering to one another.

It wasn't just his imagination; Alon realized quite clearly that he was the center of attention.

Just as he began to wonder why—

“Oh my heavens! A wonderful day to you, Marquis Palatio!”

A fruit seller in the town square suddenly recognized Alon and rushed toward him.

Evan moved instinctively to intercept the merchant, but—

Alon gave a slight wave of his hand, clearing the way for the merchant to approach.

“Thank you so very much!”

The vendor offered a deep, respectful bow.

“......?”

Alon was stunned by the unexpected gratitude.

Before he could even process his confusion—

“We are so grateful, Marquis!”

“Because of you, my standard of living has improved immensely.”

“Our thanks to you, Marquis!”

The local residents began to chime in, as if they had been waiting for the chance to speak.

“???”

Alon could only blink in mental confusion.

As the crowd gathered and began to applaud in unison—

“Marquis.”

“What?”

“Did you... perhaps do something again?”

“What do you mean by ‘something’?”

“Well... you always seem to be busy with things whenever I’m not looking.”

“We’ve been together for months, haven't we?”

“Then... how do you explain this?”

Evan pointed toward the street, which now looked like the setting of a major parade.

And Alon—

“......I honestly have no idea…”

Could only give that response.

***

Since the day the timid knight was able to harness the power of Kalannon through the intervention of Sili Maccalian, the mood in the Divine Land had undergone a massive shift.

And Rohan—the knight who had received Sili’s help—had transformed more than anyone.

He was still unable to fully control Kalannon’s power.

Even when he succeeded, it lasted only a moment, and the lightning he produced was incredibly faint.

But for him, that was more than enough.

Because the power of Kalannon had gifted him something he hadn't felt in years: the sensation of progress.

He had never been gifted with the blade.

As the illegitimate son of a knightly house, he had pushed himself to the point of collapse in training.

Yet, his lack of talent meant he remained nothing more than a mediocre knight.

To put it bluntly—

He was weak, stuck, and lacked confidence.

His lack of ability had robbed him of the pleasure of self-improvement.

That changed when he started serving Kalannon.

From that moment on, Rohan found the meaning of growth again.

As if mocking the boundaries of his natural talent, Kalannon provided him with strength that matched his dedication.

The power was still minor, but it sufficed.

The realization that his faith and hard work were not in vain—

That alone was the most precious reward.

Furthermore—

Crackle!

“Wow—”

“I wonder if I’ll ever achieve that...”

Before he knew it, Rohan had become a figure of respect among those who studied the scriptures to seek Kalannon’s favor.

“Please guide us, Sir Knight. How should we direct our faith?”

“Must our belief be that intense?”

“Please, share any method at all...!”

Rohan looked at the people surrounding him.

They were mostly wandering knights and simple mercenaries.

In their gazes, he saw clear reverence—mixed with a bit of envy.

These were emotions he never would have experienced as a timid, ordinary knight.

This was why Rohan felt such deep gratitude toward Kalannon—

No, toward Marquis Palatio.

To the man who gave him the hope of improvement—

To the man who bestowed power upon him.

Without him, Rohan would never have known such a life.

Because of that—

“Have faith, all of you. If you do, Lord Kalannon will surely answer your prayers.”

“Is that true?”

“Consult the scriptures. Chapter 1, verse 15: ‘To the believer, power shall be granted in measure with their faith; but to the faithless, nothing shall be given.’”

Rohan’s devotion to Kalannon grew deeper than anyone else's.

At that moment—

“...Excellent, that’s perfect.”

“Hmm. Do you think so?”

Observing the scene, Sili nodded in approval.

“Yes. Just look at them.”

Following Sili’s gaze, Deus watched the unfolding events.

Ever since Rohan began utilizing Kalannon’s power, the atmosphere of the Divine Land had truly begun to evolve.

Knights and mercenaries desperate for strength started reciting the scriptures and praying with intense fervor.

With Sili’s secret assistance, a few others had even begun to manifest small sparks of Kalannon’s power.

This caused even more people to obsess over the scriptures.

It had reached the point where minor brawls were breaking out over access to the texts.

“Everyone is desperate to read the Marquis’s scripture, aren't they?”

“Is this the ‘timing’ you mentioned?”

“Exactly. From here on, we will release the scripture in small portions. Just enough to keep their hunger for it alive.”

“Understood. Is there anything else we should prepare?”

Deus inquired.

To which Sili replied—

“Certainly. Now that we have a congregation, shouldn't we commission new statues?”

“That makes sense.”

“And we’ll need to make a formal proclamation as well.”

“...A proclamation?”

“Yes.”

She gave a small smile.

“Because it is illogical for a god to be ranked below a mere mortal.”

She tilted her head.

“I see—”

Deus nodded firmly, as though he completely grasped her intent.

And—

Kalannon, in the form of a cat, who had been listening to Alon talk about the reality(?) of the Divine Land, could only stare blankly at the two siblings as they grinned with wicked intent.