Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 343 : ???? Years Old (2)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
Alexion's views on Marquis Palatio had shifted back and forth numerous times, and frankly, that initial encounter hadn't left a positive mark.
Such a reaction was completely understandable.
Alexion's meeting with the Marquis wasn't some casual run-in—it was imposed upon him.
He'd been outright abducted for the occasion.
Even afterward, Alexion never truly warmed up to the Marquis.
In the end, it was Marquis Palatio's fault that Radan had yanked him from his cozy existence in Raksas and thrust him into the Marquis's estate.
On the flip side, while Alexion could indeed labor honestly without sneaky schemes because of Radan, following the trail back always pointed to the Marquis as the root cause.
Reflecting on it, he found no solid grounds to hold any fondness for the guy.
Nevertheless, Alexion didn't harbor any real resentment toward the Marquis.
For starters, the Marquis came across as far more ordinary compared to Radan, the one who'd hauled him here to begin with.
Actually, in some ways, Alon seemed more like an upright individual than your average aristocrat.
He consistently showed Alexion respect, despite having the authority to boss him around as he saw fit.
The initial deal Alon proposed about the auction house was so advantageous that folks would scoff at the idea it originated from nobility.
Even after Alexion buckled under Radan's intimidation and agreed to lopsided terms, the Marquis acknowledged his hard work and tweaked the agreement to make it far more equitable.
And that was just the start.
As additional duties accumulated, the Marquis rewarded him with compensation that was not merely just but maybe excessively lavish.
To sum it up, Alexion had zero grounds to bear ill will toward Alon.
If anything, he occasionally felt concern for the fellow.
He struggled to grasp how a person so saintly could end up with a rogue like Radan clinging to him.
However, at this very moment.
Alexion started to question if he'd been fooled from the outset.
Because—
“It’s Deus Macallian.”
“...Yes.”
If Marquis Palatio were truly rational, he wouldn't surround himself with types like this.
“Is the interview kicking off now?”
With his arms folded, Deus Macallian inquired with unabashed confidence.
Glancing up at the imposing figure, Alexion willed his unsteady form to stabilize.
The vertigo from Rine Groff's arrival earlier had been bad enough, but this topped it.
“Er, Lord Deus Macallian?”
“Yeah?”
“This session is for picking a banquet companion...”
“I'm aware.”
“...?”
He knows?
So knowing that, he still doesn't see the issue?
That ridiculous notion raced through Alexion's thoughts, yet naturally, uttering it aloud before Caliban's top swordsman was out of the question.
“Lord Deus, the selectee this round is supposed to be a young woman, not a gentleman.”
He stated it as courteously as possible.
“...A young lady, huh?”
“Indeed.”
“Hmph.”
Caliban's premier swordsman furrowed his brow like something had derailed.
The view only intensified Alexion's throbbing headache.
Despite that, he pressed on with determination.
“Anyway, that's the reason I believe you might not align with the goal.”
“Shame. I ditched my duties just to show up.”
Alexion itched to fire back, ‘We didn't even dispatch an invitation to you,’ but he swallowed the urge.
“Maybe there's an opening for security?”
Alexion responded with a drained look on his face.
“I'll... check on that.”
“Appreciate it.”
Deus gave a nonchalant nod and departed.
The door groaned as it closed, erasing his silhouette.
Witnessing this, Alexion released a quiet exhale and shook his head.
These interviews were already wearing him down.
But just briefly.
He rallied his spirits swiftly.
Deus marked only the opening act.
Plenty more applicants awaited.
Steeling his resolve once more, Alexion calmed his nerves.
He plastered on a fabricated grin that clashed with the weight burdening his chest and gave himself an affirming nod.
True, the Marquis always drew odd, perilous, and quirky folks into his orbit.
But what were the chances another fellow would snag an invite meant for a banquet escort?
“My name is Nangwon.”
“....”
The menacingly fierce man pinned Alexion with a menacing stare.
Obviously, Alexion hadn't mailed any such note to him.
And yet—
“By some luck, the letter—”
“Right here.”
Nangwon displayed the document with unwavering assurance.
Alexion eyed him intently and, on a sudden impulse, ventured,
“Pardon me, but... are you maybe female?”
“Do I strike you as female?”
Nangwon's straightforward comeback.
With that, Alexion shut his eyes.
And sensed a grim foreboding that the day ahead would prove tremendously challenging.
***
Luckily, once Nangwon exited, no additional males appeared for the sessions.
Yet, as Alexion had foreseen, the interviews remained far from straightforward.
“Seolrang!”
“Oh, right—the letter—”
“Got it!”
Seolrang shoved forth a somewhat wrinkled envelope.
Alexion took it without a word.
The seal remained unbroken.
It was peculiar.
How could she travel this far, insisting on partnering with the Marquis, without so much as peeking inside or breaking the seal?
Of course, Alexion realized probing such a matter would bring no genuine response.
Thus, he'd abandoned the inquiry ages ago and just moved forward with the evaluation.
Gratefully, her session passed without any major incidents.
That in itself brought some comfort.
And right as her evaluation concluded more peacefully than anticipated—
“Oh, one thing I need to mention!”
“Go on?”
Seolrang adopted an oddly grave demeanor.
She appeared ready to drop a bombshell of peril.
Puzzled yet intrigued, Alexion edged nearer.
“Everyone else is over six hundred years old, except me.”
“...”
“Yutia’s way older than even that.”
“???”
“I’m the sole one close to Master’s age. That’s my point.”
Having disclosed this hidden fact, Seolrang grinned with smug victory.
“So, that means I win, yeah?”
And saying so, she spun around and departed.
“???”
Alexion sat there alone, utterly baffled by the baffling turn of events.
Still, he upheld his professionalism.
Though his mind lingered in a fog, he promptly summoned the following applicant.
“Historia.”
“Yes.”
Unlike Seolrang, this entrant was a female with silvery ears and tail, her blank expression obscuring her inner thoughts.
Or maybe she just seemed serene.
“The letter—”
“Here.”
...?
She passed over more than five missives to Alexion.
“Pardon...”
“Yes.”
“None of these include one from me.”
“...?”
Not a single partner summons penned by Alexion himself appeared among them.
“These are… all different correspondences.”
“Oh.”
A soft exhale escaped her.
“Must there be a letter?”
“Well… we’re only seeing those who got one, so yes.”
“What if I lack one?”
“In that case, naturally, the evaluation—”
Alexion hesitated uneasily.
After a brief quiet, Historia rose.
“Understood.”
She departed without further comment.
“Picked the incorrect ones...”
Her face stayed neutral, but her flicking ears and sagging tail revealed her grumbled remark.
She made no effort to conceal the theft.
Alexion regained his composure and beckoned the subsequent candidate.
And upon spotting her, surprise overtook him.
An elf.
“Er...?”
“Greetings? I’m Magrina.”
“The letter—”
“Here you go.”
She offered it with a cheerful smile.
By this point, Alexion received it routinely.
Even assuming it was pilfered, she’d at least handled the particulars properly.
Unbidden, he considered bumping her rating for the diligence—then chided himself harshly.
“Let’s start the interview.”
“Sure, proceed.”
And surprisingly this round—
It flowed without a hitch.
So flawlessly, in truth, that it matched precisely the smooth process Alexion had yearned for.
With a lighter mood than anytime that day, Alexion continued—
“Hm?”
Toward the close, an irregularity caught his eye in her form.
“Twenty-two...”
Immediately, Seolrang’s prior statement resurfaced.
“Except for me, they’re all over six hundred years old.”
Those haunting murmurs replayed in his mind.
And thus—
“Could I pose another query?”
“Certainly.”
“You listed your age as twenty-two... is that accurate?”
He inquired evenly.
Magrina affirmed it as plain fact.
“Yes, by human reckoning.”
“...Human reckoning?”
“Indeed. Elves have extended lifespans, as you must know.”
“Yes, I’m familiar.”
“Therefore, I’m twenty-two.”
...?
What sort of reasoning was this?
Briefly stunned, Alexion coughed lightly and attempted once more.
However—
“In reality, your true age exceeds six hundred—”
“Twenty-two.”
“But that isn’t—”
“Twenty-two holds.”
Her voice signaled no room for debate.
No—
“...”
A hazardous magical aura started swirling in her hand.
Alexion had little recourse but to concur and conclude her session.
At long last, the ultimate applicant arrived.
“Ryanga.”
“Yes.”
A girl with white hair and purple eyes greeted him.
She exuded a subtle yet ominous vibe.
“Might I see your letter?”
“Here.”
Despite her tough exterior, she bashfully presented it and joined the evaluation with the most subdued attitude yet.
By the conclusion—
“Um...”
“Yes.”
“I wish to accompany that gentleman... please look after me...”
Her face reddened as she uttered it, and the instant she stopped, she dashed out like escaping.
Alexion's resolve melted unbeknownst to him.
For someone appearing so formidable, her conduct had been refreshingly reserved.
And through that, his frayed, battered spirit found unexpected solace.
Each prior applicant had menaced or griped somehow.
But now, wearing a content look, Alexion nodded.
At last, he verified the grueling day had wrapped, releasing a profound breath.
While the final session had eased things, the accumulated fatigue proved irreparable.
Alexion quietly reviewed the evaluation summaries.
Every rating bore exceptionally elevated figures.
Naturally, excluding one document, those figures didn't stem from his true judgment.
Far too frequently, his survival hung in the balance to choose independently.
Some even featured falsehoods.
Particularly regarding ages.
“Hm...”
Alexion mulled over how to handle it.
After all, age mattered greatly in selecting a companion.
Fingertip drumming on the ratings, he ultimately chose to roughly revise the age entries at minimum.
As he scanned them, inflating ages universally, he halted at Yutia’s page.
Per Seolrang’s claim, Yutia surpassed six hundred years.
Believing that was tough, of course.
But ignoring it felt wrong too.
“???? years old.”
Thus did Alexion amend Yutia’s age prior to exiting his workspace.
The following day—
“...?”
A peculiar sensation struck him.
The forms he’d meticulously adjusted the day before—
Why had they all reverted to their original state?
No, reversion wasn’t the half of it.
“...What?”
The ratings diverged from his recollections.
The pages that had captured a sliver of his preferences now displayed near-perfect highs across the board.
Struggling to mask his bewilderment—
BOOM!
An abrupt blast resounded, drawing Alexion's gaze to the window by reflex.
There, he beheld it.
Seolrang, shuddering fiercely while sprawled on the earth.
And Yutia, positioned in front of him.
...
She gazed up at Alexion with a grin.
Then, hauling Seolrang by the collar into a side path—
Creak.
Alexion's fingers trembled as he grasped his quill.
And on that day—
Name: Yutia Bloodia
Age: ???? years old — 18
Yutia Bloodia turned eighteen years old.