Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 336 : Perplexity (2)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
"Basic computation" meant just what the name suggested.
Nothing more, nothing less than basic.
It would be odd if the term carried deeper significance.
Primarily, basic computation served to identify variables in the upkeep of certain magics or the study of specific spells.
In simple terms, it resembled menial labor.
Mindless, repetitive tasks that demanded little thought.
Those tasked with it were typically novice, low-level mages, who mockingly called themselves "slaves."
And that label fit well, given how their days mirrored those of true slaves.
Mornings began with them hurrying to the lab for basic computation.
After breakfast, they dashed back for additional computation.
Lunch followed by yet more computation.
Dinner, and the cycle persisted.
A midnight bite, then off to more computation.
By sunrise, they tumbled into a cramped 3-pyeong space, eyes ringed with shadows, stealing a few hours of rest.
Slaves followed a similar pattern.
Morning wake-up led to rushing to the fields for labor.
Breakfast, then return to the fields.
Lunch, and work dragged on.
Dinner, with no end to the toil.
Nighttime brought sleep.
...Wait?
Spelling it out this way, it almost appeared that slaves enjoyed a marginally superior existence.
...Regardless, from Alon's viewpoint—
It echoed the drudgery of a graduate student, bound as the professor's servant.
Yet why was this unfolding?
"Parkline."
"The master of the Red Mage Tower."
"Yes, sir. Interviewee number 32."
"I see."
This explained the bizarre turn of events.
Alon gradually shifted his gaze to Evan.
Evan met his look with equal confusion.
'You don't know?'
'How could I? Didn't you pull some stunt, Marquis?'
'I've been bedridden the entire day before last.'
'Oh, yeah...'
No words were exchanged.
A mere glance wrapped up their exchange.
Beneath Alon's impassive face, a swirl of intricate feelings brewed.
He hadn't lifted a finger.
All he'd managed yesterday was confronting Sloth, followed by crashing from Reverse Heaven's backlash.
So how had he ended up, unbeknownst to him, evaluating self-numbered interviewees?
And even more baffling...
"Yes, I'm confident in computation."
"Is that so?"
"You know, the spells of the Red Mage Tower fundamentally demand parallel basic computation. The computational density is extraordinarily intense."
A mage tower master—not some ordinary caster—boldly offered to slave away on computations.
In today's lingo—it resembled an elite professor declaring, "I'm sure I can excel as a slave!"
Confronted by this, Alon stood frozen in astonishment.
Two hours passed before he uncovered the instigator.
"Um—I believe it's my doing. Sorry..."
Sharan, head of the Green Mage Tower.
She bore the blame.
"What precisely did you tell them?"
"Well, nothing too significant..."
Sharan proceeded to recount her words to the other mages from the day prior.
Once the full tale emerged, Alon boiled it down.
"So you merely mentioned that aiding with basic computation would bolster my magical studies?"
"Yes... but it somehow escalated into this mess..."
Noting the remorse etched on Sharan's features, Alon bit back his response.
Truthfully, she hadn't committed any grave error.
Still, piecing together the escalation proved straightforward.
Alon had showcased magic on multiple occasions before.
Yet yesterday's display struck the mages uniquely.
Even Alon had pondered, "Did I truly achieve that?"
Sharan's remark on supporting his research via computation likely sparked the frenzy.
At last grasping why professors (mages) eagerly turned into slaves (grad students), Alon rubbed his temple.
Undoubtedly, extra mages proved beneficial.
Magical deciphering had long lagged due to computation shortages.
But recruiting a horde of mages?
Progress would surge ahead.
Nevertheless, Alon wavered for several causes.
For one, the mages sought involvement in Alon's work mainly to probe his magic.
Regrettably—
Regardless of how diligently this era's mages investigated, they couldn't wield his spells.
Thus, Alon alone stood to gain from the setup.
They volunteered as slaves, yet Sharan and select others grasped the reality.
Over time, resentment might fester in their bonds.
Moreover, Heinkel's approval was essential.
She, not Alon, would lead the research alongside the mages.
"Hmm~"
As Alon mulled it over, Penia interjected from nearby.
"Is that truly a concern?"
"Well, they're getting nothing in return."
"Why not just clarify that upfront?"
"Fair point—"
Alon rubbed his brow and went on.
"Fine, we'll follow Penia's advice. We'll begin by briefing them clearly."
"Should I contact Heinkel?"
"Would you?"
"I got a communication crystal from her before."
"Then handle it for me."
"Of course. She should respond by tonight, so I'll discuss it then."
Penia gave a firm nod.
***
Night.
"Eliban."
"Mm?"
Eliban, lost in silent contemplation of the Milky Way, pivoted at Yan's call.
"Stargazing once more?"
"Yeah. What's the matter?"
"The meeting's nearly here. Don't you need to claim your reward?"
Her reminder prompted Eliban's nod.
He fleetingly recalled the reward promised by King Stalian V of Ashtalon Kingdom.
"Understood. Go on without me?"
"You're skipping out?"
"Wait, let me consider."
It served as a gentle hint for her to depart.
Yan appeared bemused but nodded in comprehension and vanished.
Confirming her absence, Eliban erased the radiant grin from his visage and refocused on the Milky Way.
He delved into yesterday's recollection.
Particularly, the moment following Marquis Palatio's triumph over Sloth's sin.
The exchange with Radan, who had sought him out.
'Are you really going to do it?'
'Yeah.'
Their talk stayed brief.
More accurately, it scarcely qualified as dialogue.
Radan posed a query.
Eliban replied.
End of story.
Radan sought no further details.
Eliban offered none.
That single volley concluded their encounter.
Radan spun away and headed directly to Seolrang, unwavering.
Eliban observed his departure.
Only that terse interaction lingered in memory—yet it etched itself indelibly.
"Hoo—"
Eliban exhaled deeply.
His thoughts churned in chaos.
But he shook his head lightly and restored his customary smile.
His duties remained incomplete.
And until completion, the smile must endure.
He needed to serve as everyone's rescuer.
He had to emerge as a universal hero.
He must gain renown.
Without fail.
"Eliban! You really ought to hurry!"
Eliban swiveled toward Yan's voice.
"Apologies! On my way!"
In an instant,
A luminous, cheerful smile graced his features anew.
***
Evening.
Alon ventured out, recovery still incomplete.
King Stalian V of Ashtalon had called forth all tied to the Sloth affair.
Naturally, the summons drew no objections.
It promised deliberations on rewards.
With that thought, Alon remembered Evan's earlier mention of the king's gift and proceeded to the chamber.
Upon entry—
"Ah! Master!"
"Brother!"
"Greetings, brother."
Seolrang, Radan, and Yuman welcomed him enthusiastically, as though anticipating his arrival.
"How's your condition?"
"I'm good!"
"I'm holding up fine too, brother. And you?"
"Yeah, Master, you alright?"
Having fainted the previous day without seeing them, Alon nodded swiftly.
"I'm okay. Just pushed too hard—no real harm."
"What a relief, Master!"
"For real."
After Alon's salutations, Yuman drew near.
"You appear far healthier. I intended to check on you multiple times, but crowds always blocked the way."
"Me too! Oddballs kept swarming your door!"
"Same."
"Ugh..."
Merely after Alon announced a halt to the interviews did the mages scatter.
Alon pictured the throng outside his quarters.
"But Master, what on earth did you pull off?"
"Some accidental interview...?"
"Interview?"
As he detailed the chaos to the baffled Seolrang—
Meanwhile, at the mage tower...
[So, you're inquiring if adding more mages works?]
[Yes, the Marquis wanted me to confirm with you, Miss Heinkel!]
Heinkel and Penia conversed via messages.
[Well, I don't object.]
Heinkel assented, deeming it reasonable.
It aligned—having already disclosed her true self to Celaime and Sharan.
By now, further developments mattered little.
Admittedly, a petty, hidden delight arose from their admiring gazes— a pleasure unfit for a grand mage, yet savored nonetheless.
[You're certain it's okay?]
[Yeah, no issue.]
Heinkel affirmed to Penia.
[So, what's the count?]
[Hmm, one moment~]
As Heinkel estimated the required mages—
[5… 5]
[5 people?]
[Around 58 people.]
[58?]
[Yes.]
Heinkel felt mildly taken aback.
It exceeded her anticipation substantially.
But she brushed it aside promptly.
Excess proved preferable to scarcity.
Thus, as she prepared to voice "sounds good~"—
[Ah, it's 68 now.]
[……Suddenly?]
[Sharan's taking applications live. So if I sort it presently, that's 74… wait, 78…]
[?]
The tally climbed before response.
[Hmm, we've got 111 applicants at the moment, but you'll want to vet them personally. I'll prepare a list of 117… no, 128.]
[???]
[Oops—make that 135 I'll forward.]
[?????]
[Ah, we just reached 141.]
With the figures escalating endlessly (?), Heinkel sensed—without full clarity— that an extraordinary event unfolded.
[Alright, we've hit 150.]
Indeed, something monumental...