Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 355 : The Ball (4)

A few days passed.

Subsequent to the explanation of the second-rank spell provided by Heinkel, Alon resolved to set aside an entire day dedicated to the selection of a new mage.

Admittedly, there was already an abundance of applicants—

“I beg of you, please choose me!”

“My widowed mother relies entirely on my support!”

“My beloved pet rabbit and my daughter-like hamster are on the brink of starvation!”

—it appeared plainly that the mages were quite unwilling to simply step aside.

Of course, prior to that event.

Alon found himself bewildered as to why those seeking a role in basic computation would attempt to sway him with tragic anecdotes regarding destitute mothers or famished pets.

Regardless, Alon proceeded to organize an additional recruitment phase and informed Penia of the decision.

“A fresh batch of mages?”

“Indeed.”

“Hmm, and what is the target number?”

“How many would you suggest we recruit?”

“Hmm—”

As Alon observed Penia’s hesitation, a sudden realization dawned upon him.

“Tell me, Penia.”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“On second thought, surely the efficacy of basic computation increases with the number of participants, does it not?”

“Is that not the case?”

“Then would it not be prudent to hire every mage who desires the position and put them to use?”

Alon’s reasoning seemed logical.

Any mage possessed the capacity for basic computation.

However, Penia responded with a look of inexplicable confusion.

“On the surface, perhaps. However, the reality is far more complex.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed. You are aware that even simple arithmetic can vary significantly between individual mages, correct?”

“That stands to reason.”

“The difficulty here lies in the fact that our interpretation requires mages to achieve a state of perfect synchronization.”

“Synchronization?”

“Yes. Unlike the first rank, the second rank demands an extraordinary volume of rapid calculations. Consequently, the mages must function as a single unit.”

Penia shrugged, searching for a simpler analogy.

“To put it bluntly, if even one participant operates at a slower pace, the efficiency of the entire group collapses.”

After all, ten mages collectively produced mere results for one single operation.

“So, if nine individuals complete their task in ten seconds, but the tenth takes fifteen, the entire process is delayed by those fifteen seconds?”

“Precisely. In that regard, the current group is effectively elite.”

Alon nodded in agreement.

“Have all suitable candidates already been screened then?”

“Well, a few late arrivals have trickled in. If we conduct a thorough search, we might uncover a few more, though it is unlikely.”

“I shall leave the task in your hands, then.”

“Wait, am I to manage this alone?”

“I am more than willing to assist if you feel it necessary.”

Penia pondered this for a moment.

Then, a playful, cunning smile graced her lips.

“No, that won't be necessary. Truthfully, I am capable of handling this on my own. You are quite occupied with the ball, are you not, Marquis?”

“I could manage to free up a day.”

“There is no need. Please, focus your efforts on preparing for the gala.”

Alon fixed a piercing gaze upon Penia.

She met his eyes and erupted into a nervous laugh.

“W-why are you looking at me that way?”

Penia quickly averted her eyes.

“It is quite clear you intend to turn a profit from this, are you not?”

“Cease your prattle.”

When Evan, who had remained silent nearby, interjected, Penia scowled irritably.

“...It seems as though everyone has decided to tell me to be silent lately.”

“My greed may be noted, but I would never stoop so low for a pittance. You are accusing me without cause.”

“That is rich, considering you were quite happy to accept gifts just a few days ago.”

“I have told you already, I did not solicit those! People simply brought them to me! Besides, since interpretation is of such paramount importance, I am certainly not going to recruit just any riffraff!”

Penia retorted sharply, refusing to yield to Evan’s underhanded remarks.

Alon gave a thoughtful nod.

She had a point.

Even if Penia was worldly—perhaps excessively so—

He was well aware that she exhibited great diligence when it came to her professional duties.

Because of that—

“That particular aspect is of no concern to me.”

Alon offered his support to Penia.

“Marquis!”

Penia’s eyes gleamed with genuine gratitude.

“Ahem. I do trust your judgment regarding what is appropriate. Though, I must admit, you do seem incapable of refusing a gift.”

Evan retreated with an awkward chuckle.

Alon cast another glance toward Penia.

That couldn't be true, could it?

Yet, Penia’s gaze remained intentionally evasive.

Penia...?

***

Departing from that awkward moment with Penia.

Several days had elapsed since Alon had embarked on his journey toward Terea, the venue for the ball.

“I win!”

“Impossible! That move is void! You moved your piece to a square that isn't permissible!”

“My pawn is capable of moving three spaces!”

“What gibberish are you spouting?! Ria! Look here! Pawns do not function in such a way, correct?”

“...?”

“Were you sleeping? You agreed to act as the adjudicator!”

Inside the carriage, Seolrang and Ryanga were embroiled in a heated chess match, utilizing a board game retrieved from the Magic Tower.

For reasons known only to herself, Historia was serving as the referee.

“Ahem—regarding the upcoming ball...”

“So, in summary, it is essentially a five-day partner event?”

“That is correct. And this year’s affair is set to be particularly opulent, featuring an array of fine delicacies.”

“I see.”

Alon found his thoughts drifting to the egg tart he had sampled at the previous gala.

“It was truly exquisite.”

The flavor had been far superior to anything produced in his own domain.

However, the recollection was ephemeral.

“Tell me, Marquis.”

“What is on your mind?”

“How long do you intend to remain in attendance?”

“Since I haven't been in quite some time, I intend to stay for the duration of the event.”

“You plan to make an appearance, satisfy social obligations, and then vanish for another few years, don't you?”

Alon remained silent, offering no rebuttal to Evan’s observation.

After all, the assessment was accurate.

In truth, such balls held immense weight among the nobility.

In an era bereft of social media, these grand gatherings functioned as the primary conduits for communication and influence.

However, given that Alon’s natural inclination favored seclusion and leisure over societal posturing, he found little joy in such spectacles.

“Haa—”

As Alon exhaled a soft sigh, Evan questioned with curiosity.

“I recognize your distaste for large gatherings, Marquis, but might I ask why?”

“If forced to articulate it, I suppose it is the constant burden of having to be mindful of others.”

“Mindful of others?”

“Regardless of status, is one not obligated to pay them heed?”

“Certainly, basic social etiquette is required, but beyond that, you are hardly in a position where you must concern yourself with the reactions of those around you, are you?”

“Why not?”

“Because, primarily, your reputation is firmly entrenched. Whether you are active in society or not, you are the patriarch of Kalpha. If anything, the others should be the ones watching their steps around you.”

As Alon pondered Evan’s perspective, the younger man continued, watching him intently.

“Marquis, I have held this sentiment for some time, but it seems you lack a clear perception of your own station.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed, at least to my perception. It is as if you are ‘deliberately’ attempting to distance yourself from it.”

“...Is it that apparent?”

“Yes.”

Alon dwelled on the thought.

Certainly, he had never consciously endeavored to ignore his position.

There was no incentive to do so.

Furthermore.

It was not that Alon possessed no ambition for power.

As a human, he naturally held some desire for authority.

That much remained beyond question.

“I think I comprehend now. The Master does occasionally lack the air of a noble.”

Seolrang, who had been occupied with stacking chess pieces into a pillar, joined the conversation following Evan’s remark.

“I concur.”

“The Chief doesn't emit the aura of a high-ranking individual. It feels as if he is entirely unaware of the influence he wields.”

Following suit, Ryanga and Historia expressed their own agreements, as if waiting for an opening to speak.

Alon continued to contemplate, his expression one of mild confusion.

Meanwhile, the carriage continued its steady progress toward Terea.

***

With no reason to hasten, Alon’s retinue traveled at a leisurely pace, moving from one village to the next.

They finally reached the city of Terea on the evening of the ball.

“My Lord.”

“Yutia.”

True to form, Yutia stood awaiting their arrival before the royal palace, draped in her somber, black mourning attire.

“Have you been well? Were there any disturbances in my absence?”

“Nothing of note. More importantly, has your work concluded satisfactorily?”

“Indeed, thanks to your diligent foresight.”

Sporting a gentle smile, Yutia turned her attention toward Seolrang, Ryanga, and Historia, who lingered behind Alon.

“I thank you all for escorting the Lord safely here.”

It was a polite greeting, yet delivered with a subtle, mocking edge, as if claiming a victory.

The trio, who had been bickering incessantly only moments prior, froze instantly, their countenances souring.

“Shall we proceed, My Lord?”

“Let us.”

Turning her back on the others, Yutia walked proudly beside Alon as they approached the entrance to the ballroom.

The second they stepped over the threshold—

“Greetings, Marquis Palatio, I am—”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Marquis!”

“Oh my, it has been an eternity since our last encounter, Marquis. I hail from the eastern noble families—”

...

They were immediately enveloped by an overwhelming tide of attendees.

In reality, it was no exaggeration to claim that nearly everyone in attendance had gravitated directly toward Marquis Palatio.

Naturally, he could not simply disregard them.

Thus, after a time, Alon found himself greeting each noble in turn, even those who had queued from a distance.

It proved to be less arduous than he had initially feared.

In truth, it was somewhat advantageous.

After all, Alon hadn’t engaged in proper societal discourse for several years.

Therefore, he found himself grateful for the proactive introductions.

Since those who approached him almost always identified themselves by name immediately.

He had no desire to be humiliated by failing to recall an identity, or worse, inadvertently cultivating enemies.

Regardless, the task of greeting the nobility was manageable.

Yes, that aspect was quite tolerable.

The dilemma, however, lay elsewhere—

“Hahaha, Marquis, if you are ever entangled in a delicate situation you cannot openly discuss, please reach out to me. I would be honored to assist you.”

“Ah, I see—”

“Marquis, should you require a discreet and confidential conversation that cannot be revealed to others, I implore you to contact me.”

“...Uh, indeed, I shall—”

“Marquis, if you ever require secret counsel, or merely need a confidant, please look to me. Remember, I am forever in your corner!”

It was all the nobles.

“...What is this?”

Observing these nobles, each with a suspiciously cryptic expression as if whispering, ‘Would you like to be secret allies?’, Alon instinctively felt a chill—

Whatever was transpiring.

Another trouble had surely begun anew.