Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 326 : Dog (3)

The elven kingdom known as Fildagreen.

Devastated entirely by sin in the past, it had reclaimed its former glory with the aid of the mages.

Rine, observing the landscape that could have healed even quicker if the western section of the royal palace hadn't been utterly demolished several months prior,

...

She shifted her eyes upward to the heavens, pondering a mystery that had lately surfaced in her mind.

First on her thoughts was the Machine God.

Previously undetectable to her senses, but now, through delving into the Eternal Library, she had advanced to the stage where she could summon it into this realm, even if controlling it flawlessly remained elusive — a “created god.”

From Rine Groff’s perspective, the mere appearance of the Machine God unleashed tremendous might.

Sufficient to swiftly overpower the sins she once faced in Fildagreen.

With that in mind, a recent confusion had begun to stir within her.

She had uncovered an extra detail from the Eternal Library, a vast repository she hadn't fully delved into yet.

"The black things came into being roughly at the same period as the Machine God."

This straightforward, yet indisputably true revelation left Rine deeply baffled.

Up to this point, Rine viewed the Machine God as a relic from an era so ancient it evaded all records — an OOPArt.

Yet that wasn't the case.

Records indicated the Machine God originated around the same epoch as the black things.

To put it differently, the Machine God was present in the age when the black things wreaked havoc to shatter the world.

A Machine God capable of vanquishing sin in an instant through its manifestation alone.

Something seemed amiss.

The world had teetered on the brink of annihilation right from the birth of the black things.

Even though that world ultimately fell to another force, the catalyst had been those black things.

All this, despite the existence of the Machine God that could have decisively quelled them.

Naturally, Rine lacked complete insight into the sins.

Her centuries-long efforts focused entirely on bringing the Machine God to form.

At this juncture, with the library's vast knowledge still partially untapped, Rine harbored numerous potential theories.

Two among them stood out as the most plausible.

"Perhaps there's an aspect of the sins I haven't discovered yet, or—"

Tap—

"It aimed to halt some other being, not the sins."

Rine abruptly remembered that moment.

When Red Moon—

Actually, when Yutia Bludia had arrived that evening.

Back then, Rine had poured everything into the encounter.

She summoned the Machine God to prove she matched Yutia on even terms.

But in that instant.

All of it dissolved into nothingness.

The Machine God, which had burst forth by ripping through the Milky Way, faded away as though it had never existed.

The summoned deity vanished without any remnant.

And in its stead, only the radiant sky remained.

Then, Red Moon, with a smile that masked her restrained fury, delivered a sharp flick to her forehead.

"The Great Moon isn’t yours, you know?"

Unknowingly, Rine touched her head while recalling Yutia’s statement.

Yutia had addressed her like one scolding a youngster.

Admittedly, that flick packed such force it seemed her skull might crack, far exceeding what a child deserved.

Thinking back on it, Rine’s cheeks inflated in childish pout.

She had long acknowledged the divide between them, but confronting it fresh ignited deep irritation.

Rine absently rubbed the spot struck without cause.

"Force isn’t everything."

She soothed herself with ease and returned to the fresh enigma occupying her thoughts.

Concerning Red Moon, Yutia Bludia.

The Machine God undoubtedly surpassed the sins in strength.

Nevertheless, Yutia had nullified every bit of Rine’s might with effortless grace.

In a split second beyond Rine’s grasp.

With nothing more than a lifted finger.

"What on earth was that?"

Following that, she devoted extensive hours scouring the library for details on Yutia’s abilities.

She even searched for the entity named "Yua."

Yet she found nothing.

After such thorough investigation, at least one hint should have emerged.

But no trace of information on Yutia surfaced.

As though deliberately scrubbed clean.

Obviously, considering the immense trove of lore in the Eternal Library, endless “volumes” awaited her perusal.

Her reflections lingered on.

***

The glow manifesting before Alon’s gaze appeared so fragile, on the verge of flickering out entirely.

To observers, it screamed a botched attempt at spell execution.

Yet none of the wizards assembled in the display arena.

Not the newly titled second-rank mages.

Not the instructors with decades of arcane study—

Not even Sharan, intently observing Alon’s incantation.

Any of them dismissed Alon’s spell as a flop.

It was evident why.

The incantation, which had merely sparked a dim gleam earlier,

—!!!

Now swelled into a colossal orb of fire, scorching the display arena.

And regarding that spell, conjured with such casual flair,

"See, I told you. That’s Light—"

"Unbelievable~"

"After seeing it with your own eyes, you’re still saying that?"

Right from the start, the wizards expressing awe addressed those who had questioned Alon’s spell.

This highlighted a spectacle so astonishing it could spark divisions without personal witnessing.

Therefore, as the wizards who beheld it first savored vindication and triumph—

“Eye of the Sun—”

Skepticism rapidly clouded their gazes too.

For the marquis’s spell, deemed “finished,” started evolving anew.

***

Long after the spells concluded, Sharan kept staring vacantly at Alon.

To be exact, at Alon and the spot where his spell had unfolded.

Undeniably, the marquis had invoked Light.

Whatever ruse she had imagined, it proved unfounded.

As one who grasped a spell’s mechanics from its framework alone, her instincts and vision confirmed it was truly Light.

Still, the spectacle playing out was—

Utterly unlike the Light she once understood.

She had plainly observed how Alon’s spell reshaped its framework.

But despite direct observation, the mechanism behind that shift eluded her comprehension.

Even with her renowned sharp sight.

Regardless of her scrutiny, she failed to dissect the marquis’s spell.

His magic felt utterly alien.

Though it preserved Light’s framework, transformations churned inside.

Myriad theories surged and crumbled in her thoughts.

No matter how fiercely her intellect raced.

She remained unable to fathom Marquis Palatio’s magic.

Then, a fresh sentiment welled up.

In her psyche, any grudge against Marquis Palatio had evaporated.

Similarly, her esteem for the legacies amassed over centuries by prior mages faded.

What stirred in Sharan now was—

The prodigious aptitude that elevated her to youngest tower master, brimming with insights and eagerness—

And a solitary conviction.

Besides, his spell wasn’t even an Origin.

‘Origin’ involved forging a personal magical paradigm, not dismantling established ones.

Her keen intellect started linking long-heard tales about Marquis Palatio.

The shadowy architect of the Asteria Kingdom.

A sorcerer wielding magic akin to the primal forms, now scarcely known.

The figure dubbed the lightning receiver, Kalannon.

The herald of the lightning receiver, Kalannon.

And myriad other whispers flooded her mind as facts.

Her attention zeroed in on—

Indeed.

Primal magic, largely rejected by contemporary wizards.

Sharan intuitively grasped a near-undeniable truth.

Within the primal magic Alon employed lay the path to the 9th rank, a secret she had never glimpsed before.

Hence.

Unlike her prior fruitless pursuit of the elusive 9th rank post-Origin mastery, a vivid objective now crystallized, making her eyes gleam briefly—

“...Ah.”

A soft gasp escaped her lips unwittingly.

It stemmed from a sudden recollection of yesterday’s events.

Her eyes quivered faintly.

Though magic consumed her, she wasn’t blind to essential interpersonal dynamics and etiquette.

In essence, Sharan grasped the full extent of her affront to Marquis Palatio.

To the degree she couldn’t protest if he displayed outright enmity.

Certainly, yesterday’s Sharan would have shrugged off the marquis’s animosity, but today’s version differed.

Remorse flickered across her squeezed-shut lids.

Yet mere regret wouldn’t mend this dire circumstance.

She racked her brain intensely.

She yearned desperately to absorb that magic from him, by any means.

However, even in proximity, acquiring such arcane secrets typically demanded discipleship.

And in her present predicament, the marquis teaching Sharan appeared unattainable.

With gaze shaking wildly, she eyed Marquis Palatio poised serenely below.

***

Alon exhaled a deep breath.

This came from his initial Light display, where forgetting the gestures compelled him to abort and restart the incantation.

From the platform, he spotted Heinkel subtly flashing a thumbs-up, and with a sheepish look, he faced forward.

It also arose from wrecking the display arena once more, echoing the previous incident.

Naturally, compensation wasn’t his burden.

Technically it should be, but—

Before, Penia had vowed to manage it, so probably the same outcome here.

Even so, embarrassment tinged him.

Sensing his body teetering on mana exhaustion from another power draw, he contemplated the flawless “Light” he had just performed.

Differing from prior verbal-only attempts, he had located and applied the gestures this time.

Consequently, the Light—nay, “Eye of the Sun,”—achieved completion far superior to earlier versions.

Of the gestures in his knowledge, this alone integrated seamlessly with Light’s chants and seals.

In summary, Alon had triumphantly refined the Eye of the Sun.

Still, an odd unease nagged at him.

This was comprehensible—

As the enchanter, he couldn’t dispel that sensation or notion.

His inaugural Light via gestures struck all as assault-oriented.

But the freshly wrought spell with authentic gestures now evoked less aggression and more—

While musing solo, Alon noted the wizards’ murmurs intensifying, prompting him to pivot toward Penia.

“Marquis!”

“Penia.”

“It was implemented well.”

“Yes. Though I still have my doubts.”

“Oh, that? You feel like it’s different from your previous magic, right~?”

As anticipated, she shared the sentiment from their joint arcane studies.

“Yes, that.”

“Hmm. Still, I think it’s correct. You compressed it to its limit and then detonated it to release it all at once. The destructive power—”

Penia cast a look at the chasm.

“It’s more than enough, maybe even excessive.”

Alon bobbed his head in accord, scratching his scalp when—

“Marquis Palatio—!”

Abruptly, Celaime dashed from the far seats.

“Tower Master.”

“Yes! I watched it all! It was incredible! That really was Light, right?!”

Though one might label it altered sorcery, its core remained Light, so Alon affirmed.

“What you saw is correct.”

“Ha, amazing! Truly amazing!”

Celaime lavished Alon with somewhat overstated acclaim.

As Alon received it with discomfort, puzzled by the behavior—

...Ah.

He abruptly spotted Sharan lingering behind Celaime.

Her lowered head concealed her face.

Alon swiftly recollected yesterday’s affair.

Obviously, he harbored no desire to accept her as apprentice.

Nor to relish her canine mimicry.

Thus, Alon stated composedly—

“Tower Master. If it’s about yesterday, you don’t have to—”

“Woof.”

“...?”

His words halted midway.

“Woof woof woof woof!!! Grrrrrrrr~!”

The display arena, poised to buzz anew, hushed completely.

In the ensuing stillness of the expansive area, solely her fervent barks resounded.

“No, you really don’t have to—”

“Grrrrrrrr— woof woof aaaa woof!!”

As though her tower master prestige had evaporated, Sharan yapped frenziedly.

Alon shivered with unease.