Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 320 : Ryanga (2)

After enduring awkward compliments like, ‘We always knew you could do it! You’re our savior!’ Alon made his way toward the southern gate, the gateway to the Ronovelli jungle.

As soon as he arrived, the explorers gathered there began showering him with similar praise.

A guide even stepped forward, offering to escort him to the expedition camp without charging a single coin.

It was at this moment that Alon began to grasp the reason behind this sudden hospitality.

“You are truly incredible, Marquis. To mobilize such a force of mercenaries and knights to purge the shadows haunting the Allied Kingdom... I am simply in awe of your deeds.”

“...Is that what people are saying?”

“Indeed! Our lives have become so much easier recently, and it is all thanks to your efforts, Marquis!”

“I am... glad to hear that,” Alon replied with a strained chuckle, feeling the weight of the explorer’s sincere admiration.

Beside him, Evan leaned in and whispered softly.

“Is that... actually the truth?”

“Is it really necessary for me to answer that?”

“Well, I figured I should check, just to be certain.”

“You were the one who issued the official decree in the first place...”

“Ah.” Evan let out a quiet realization.

Penia, who had been trailing behind them, kept her brow furrowed as she processed the situation. Finally, she spoke up.

“So it goes like this, right? The Marquis posted an official notice just to gather new subjects without thinking too much of it, but the public interpreted it in their own way, and now it has snowballed into this?”

“Precisely.”

“...Are you serious?”

“There isn't a single detail wrong in your summary.”

“And this is the result?”

“I have no idea how such a rumor managed to spread so far...” Alon muttered blankly. Penia glanced over at the explorer leading them.

Despite working for no pay, the man wore a beaming smile, appearing genuinely thrilled to be of service to Marquis Palatio.

She wondered briefly if someone could truly find such joy in unpaid labor.

“Well, isn’t this a positive outcome regardless? A favorable misunderstanding is surely better than a negative one,” Penia noted.

Alon nodded in agreement. She had a point; a good reputation certainly wouldn't hurt him.

However—

“With a man like the Marquis, there is still hope for the Allied Kingdom! Hahahaha!”

He felt a sharp pang of guilt prick at his conscience.

Despite his internal conflict, he had no intention of revealing the truth to the cheerful explorer.

He had already been hailed as a hero back in Caselot. If he admitted the truth now, the sudden shift from adoration to cold disappointment was a burden he wasn't ready to carry.

Choosing silence over correction, Alon allowed the misconception to persist. Thanks to this, they reached the explorer camp by late evening with ease.

And yet—

“Marquis Palatio is here!”

“What brings the Marquis to this place?”

“It can’t be—!”

Once again, Alon was greeted with cries of ‘Village Hero!’ and found himself unable to even lift his head in embarrassment.

The following day, a strange thought occupied Alon’s mind as he drew the heavy, humid air into his lungs.

Blackie shook his fur repeatedly, clearly irritated by the moisture. In contrast, Basiliora seemed revitalized, looking around contentedly as if he had finally returned to his true home.

“Marquis.”

“What is it?”

“I just realized something now that we’ve traveled this far... didn’t we leave something behind?”

“Leave something?”

“Yes.”

“And what would that be?”

“Blue Ghost. Weren’t we supposed to bring him along?”

“Oh.” Alon let out a soft gasp as the memory of the forgotten figure resurfaced.

“We completely overlooked him.”

“Well, he seemed quite content when we last saw him, so perhaps it’s for the best.”

“That is true.” Alon recalled the blissful expression Blue Ghost had worn.

Penia, who had been listening, suddenly interjected.

“If we don’t have Blue Ghost, how are we supposed to locate Ryanga?”

“That’s a valid concern,” Evan agreed quickly.

But Alon remained unbothered.

“Don’t worry about that.”

Though his memory of the game was slightly faded, he still recalled the general location of the Queen of the Hundred Ghosts.

“Let’s move out. It’s a long journey, so we need to maintain a good pace.”

They finished their preparations and ventured into the dense foliage where Ryanga waited.

As they hurried through the woods, Alon had failed to account for two critical factors.

First, the residence of Ryanga—the Queen of the Hundred Ghosts—was much deeper in the forest than he anticipated.

However, that was manageable. Since he knew the destination, they wouldn't lose much time as long as they stayed on course.

The second factor was the real issue. The path Alon needed to take to reach Ryanga was crawling with dangers.

The forest was teeming with countless mutants. For someone of Alon’s current strength, these creatures weren't a lethal threat; he possessed the power to wipe out entire swarms with ease.

The problem, however, was his stamina.

While he could destroy them, doing so repeatedly was exhausting. In this jungle, one could hardly walk five steps without encountering another mutant.

When he faced the first one, Alon briefly regretted that he couldn't simply offer a ‘tribute’ as one would in the game system.

Suddenly, a mysterious figure leaped out and crushed the skull of the mutant lunging at him.

A girl with a long, white ponytail and a goblin mask appeared, neutralized the threat, and vanished instantly.

A few minutes later, the cycle repeated. When another mutant attacked, she reappeared to shatter its head before disappearing once more.

This happened five times. Naturally, Alon was well aware of who his secret protector was.

“...Marquis.”

“Yes?”

“That was Ryanga, wasn't it?”

“It appears so.”

“The same girl who rescued you once before?”

“Yeah.”

Penia had easily seen through the disguise. It would have been absurd not to recognize her; they weren't living in a cartoon where a simple mask could perfectly hide one's identity.

When she stepped in to kill yet another mutant—

“Ryanga,” Alon called out just as she prepared to bolt.

“H-hyaggh—!”

Ryanga let out a bizarre yelp. Caught off guard, she froze in place, her limbs stiffening awkwardly.

“...I-I am certainly not Ryanga, you know?”

She didn't even attempt to change her voice. The group looked at her with identical expressions of disbelief, yet she seemed committed to the act.

“Ahem! If you continue through this woods toward that hill over there, you might just encounter a girl with lovely white hair~!”

With that shameless tip, she vanished again.

“What was that supposed to be...?”

“We should probably just play along with her,” Penia suggested. Alon nodded, and they resumed their trek.

Marti was currently serving as a soldier within the Divine Land established by Marquis Palatio.

In reality, he was an operative from Caliban’s intelligence branch, sent to infiltrate and observe the Marquis’s growing influence.

His orders were simple: gather intelligence. Infiltrating the Marquis’s inner circle was dangerous enough without taking extra risks.

The reason his superiors had placed him there was the suspicion that Marquis Palatio was planning something monumental. The man certainly had the capability.

Initially, Marti thought the threat might have been exaggerated. While the training under Deus was grueling, nothing overtly suspicious had occurred at first.

However, as time went on, he noticed the knights emerging from private audiences with Deus with grim, determined faces.

Even when the Marquis gathered a massive following under the guise of accepting subjects, Marti remained skeptical. The mercenaries had only come because of rumors the Marquis hadn't actually started.

But everything changed when Karla—the Saint serving the Marquis—joined the Divine Land.

The knights and mercenaries who should have left once they realized the misunderstanding instead chose to stay, anchored by the Saint’s presence. The Divine Land began to expand rapidly.

Furthermore, the rumors throughout the land were strangely positive. When the Marquis’s forces wiped out local bandits, the praises reached a fever pitch.

Marti began to suspect that this entire narrative was being carefully manipulated. Usually, gossip twists the truth into something ugly, but here, the public image of the Marquis was being polished to a mirror sheen.

If someone was pulling the strings, it had to be Marquis Palatio.

But why? He was already a high-ranking noble of Asteria. Public favor in a foreign kingdom should have been useless to him.

As Marti delved deeper into the puzzle, a terrifying hypothesis took root in his mind.

Suddenly, everything clicked. The creation of the Divine Land, the recruitment of an army through rumors, the use of the Saint to stabilize the population, and the vast sums spent on public relations.

“Marquis Palatio intends to ascend to godhood himself...!”

Terrified by his own conclusion, Marti gripped his communication orb, waiting for the cover of night to transmit this ‘truth’ to his superiors.

At that very moment—

“Why do my ears feel so itchy lately?”

“Perhaps someone is talking behind your back, Marquis?”

“I don't think I've done anything to earn that much spite,” Alon muttered, scratching his ear as he continued his journey through the woods.