Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 322 : Ryanga (4)

“It’s been a while!”

“Ah! You’ve grown so much!”

“Of course!”

Soon after getting back together with Ryanga, Alon descended the cliff alongside her.

The moment Penia and Ryanga spotted one another, they shared joyful hellos.

Then.

“Let’s head to the hideout first.”

Trailing behind Ryanga, Alon reached the Hundred Ghosts’ hideout and found himself pulling a weird face upon arrival.

“That’s—”

“How is it, Chief? I carved it myself!”

Hearing Ryanga’s tone, a mix of shy pride, Alon gazed vacantly at the cliff within the hideout.

To be exact, at the mural etched into the cliff face.

A mural portraying the rear view of a man whose black coat billowed dramatically in the breeze.

“Wow, you did all that by yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“…You did an amazing job.”

Penia uttered a quiet gasp of praise.

Alon gazed at the mural in awe too.

“Ah.”

Something dawned on him.

Alon remembered Reinhardt’s words from their initial encounter years back in the Ronovelli Jungle, and he gave a nod.

Even if it was a tad idealized, it closely mirrored him in the act of spellcasting.

Naturally, the etched mural bore a strong likeness to Alon.

Alon himself conceded that point.

Still, plenty of other mages across the world donned coats like his.

He figured it was a stretch to peg it as him based solely on that detail, yet he quickly shrugged it off and averted his gaze.

After all, it was an old tale from years past, hardly worth fretting over.

With such notions in mind, he turned to Ryanga.

“You did a great job.”

“Right?! I made it exactly the same!”

“I agree. It’s so accurate there’s no way you wouldn’t recognize it.”

Upon hearing Penia chime in, Alon glanced back at the mural, half-doubting its obviousness.

A mural displaying just his backside.

It remained an odd sight, yet after a nod, Alon spoke up.

“Alright, let’s go in. It’s not dinner time yet, right? I’ll cook for you!”

“You can cook too?”

“Of course! I’ve been practicing!”

While keeping pace with Ryanga, Alon softly queried Penia.

“Penia.”

“Yes, Marquis?”

“Is that mural really enough to recognize me just by looking at it?”

In response, Penia twisted around to inspect the mural once more, her face etched with confusion.

Merely spotting the figure in the black coat wouldn’t instantly mark him as Marquis Palatio.

With only the back shown, and without knowing Ryanga crafted it, one could easily mistake it for another person.

Yet, a single feature caught the eye.

Two pupils.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore them, those twin eyes hovering over the head in the rear carving demanded attention.

Though these days, Marquis Palatio revealed just a single eye.

Penia identified him right away upon noticing that.

In any case, spotting those eyes left no doubt—it had to be Marquis Palatio.

“Uh… if someone has seen you use magic even once, they’d all think it’s you.”

Penia responded.

“…Really?”

“Yes.”

Alon gave a gradual nod, a peculiar sense of pride swelling inside.

He kept his exterior composed, but deep down, the back figure Ryanga sculpted struck him as rather impressive.

Entertaining that foolish idea, Alon trailed behind Ryanga.

***

Merely days prior, Ganma—one of the unfortunate Hundred Ghosts enduring constant thrashings disguised as training from the dour Ryanga—now grappled with a crumbling grip on reality.

From a distance, Ganma observed Ryanga clinging tightly to that human male—no, the tales had drilled the name into his head—Marquis Palatio.

From afar, her beaming smile radiated pure innocence, instantly recognizable.

Ganma scanned the surroundings for the fellow members’ responses.

A few appeared stunned.

Others stared in a daze.

Some grimaced like they might retch.

All eyes fixed on Ryanga.

It stood to reason.

Centuries had they shared with Ryanga.

They prided themselves on knowing her inside out, certain of her true nature.

But.

Every Hundred Ghost member abruptly summoned Ryanga’s true form to mind.

The sole image lingering was her brutal demeanor.

Her go-to method for all matters.

Be it rank or quarrels, she settled them with raw punches.

Beyond that, her days blurred into lounging atop the cliff endlessly.

Thus, for the Hundred Ghosts, Ryanga’s present demeanor shattered all expectations in a shocking twist.

“Does this even make sense?”

“Boss can actually smile like a woman?”

“Can you believe it? She’s even linking arms with the Marquis.”

“Ugh—”

“She’s sitting right in front of that human man?”

“She’s acting cute.”

“I feel sick.”

Ryanga’s uncharacteristic flirtiness, a side she’d never displayed before, overwhelmed the Hundred Ghosts, leaving them all aghast as if yelling “What the heck?!” inwardly.

Yet.

In a brief instant.

The White Ghost, propped against Marquis Palatio’s casually crossed leg, whipped her head to shoot a fierce glare at the group.

Simultaneously, they all caught it.

The form of her lips.

‘You. Will. Die.’

Mouthing the words silently yet distinctly for every concealed watcher to decipher, the members quaked in place and stealthily pivoted, vanishing from her sight.

***

The following day.

“You’re awake!”

“You’re awake!”

“…Uh, yeah…”

Waking to an over-the-top welcome from the Hundred Ghosts, Alon felt bewildered, but shortly after, he encountered the revitalized Ryanga.

“Did you sleep well, Chief?”

“Yes, thanks to you, I slept well.”

“That’s good— If you sleep comfortably, you could even stay a bit longer.”

Ryanga tacked on hastily.

However, Alon shook his head.

“Unfortunately, it’s not possible right now.”

“Really? Well, that’s fine—”

Her words said one thing, but Ryanga’s slight pout betrayed her clear letdown.

Noticing this, Alon couldn’t suppress a grin and reassured her.

“Don’t be too sad. I’m just busy right now, but I’ll come visit again soon.”

“…Really?”

“Yes. Or you can come visit me yourself.”

“Okay… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ryanga beamed with delight and pressed on, seemingly content.

“So, what’s your plan from now on?”

“Hmm, I’ll probably stay in the jungle for about another week.”

“A week?”

“Yes, I’m searching for something.”

“What is it?”

Pausing briefly, Alon answered deliberately.

“I’m looking for the Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead.”

“The Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead?”

“Yes, it’s an item in a ruin in this jungle. I need it.”

“Hmm~”

Ryanga inclined her head at Alon’s explanation and inquired further.

“Where is it?”

“…It’s probably in the area where the ruins are gathered.”

“Do you know the location?”

“Roughly.”

“Can you show me?”

Though momentarily thrown, Alon unfurled an explorer’s map and indicated the spot approximately.

Immediately after—

“Hmm~”

Ryanga rubbed her chin, nodded in comprehension, and declared,

“Wait here!”

“Wait, hold on—”

Before Alon could halt her, she rocketed away with a thunderous boom.

Hand outstretched in vain, Alon froze in an awkward stance.

Beside him, Penia—who’d observed everything—finally chimed in.

“Marquis, I think Ryanga went to get it.”

“It seems that way… As you said, she’ll have quite a hard time.”

Alon concurred with a nod.

This time’s target, the “Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead,” was a relic demanding puzzle solutions deep within the ruins.

Put simply, without cracking the enigmas, acquisition proved impossible.

Hence.

“…Should we wait?”

“Um… She’s probably struggling there, so maybe we should help?”

“Then it’s better to get ready to go right away.”

Gazing toward Ryanga’s departure path, they lingered roughly an hour, and right as Alon geared up to depart—

Thud!

Ryanga crashed back with a resounding impact.

“…I’m back!”

“Ryanga?”

Ryanga called out with vigor.

As Alon eyed her in bewilderment, Ryanga proclaimed assuredly,

“Here! Look!”

She promptly passed the mask to Alon.

The Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead.

In that instant, Alon and Penia both gawked at the mask clutched in her grasp.

“Huh? Isn’t this it?”

Her naive query jolted Alon from his stupor, prompting his reply.

“No, this is it. Thank you.”

“Aww, don’t mention it— between us—”

Ignoring the sweetly grinning Ryanga, Alon scrutinized the mask once more, his face a mask of incredulity.

The artifact she’d fetched was indeed the Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead.

The very one requiring riddle resolutions.

Struggling to process it, Alon examined the mask repeatedly and murmured blankly,

“But… how did you get this?”

“Huh? This?”

“Yes, as far as I know, you can only get this by answering difficult questions…”

Alon’s incredulous query gave Ryanga a brief pause as she pondered.

“Ah~ was that what that was?”

She mumbled, as if recollection struck.

“I just forced it open and took it.”

Her response came as chipper as always.

“You… broke it?”

“Yeah. It just went crack, that’s all.”

Her candid, unhesitating reply made Alon envision the ruins from mere sketches.

The entrance, touted as dozens of centimeters thick—better termed several meters.

Beyond that, it boasted reinforcements against brute force, layered with scores of protective spells.

Thus, Alon—staring dumbfounded at Ryanga—couldn’t shake the thought.

“…Is this what they mean when they say, ‘If your body is strong, your mind can rest easy’?”