Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 365 : On Sin (3)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
The devastated capital of Ashtalon now carried an unearthly chill, making it seem like the Demonic Realm of Beasts had been uprooted and planted right there.
“Brother, everything's ready. I'm going down now.”
“Proceed.”
“Understood.”
Alon stood on a enormous sky-floating vessel, precisely as he did against Sloth.
As Radan jumped down without a second thought, Alon shifted his view to the scene below.
What caught his eye first was the crimson, fractured ground underneath—the Ashtalon capital reduced to wreckage, smothered beneath heaps of dead bodies.
Then, he spotted the vast circle of troops surrounding Ashtalon.
“Penia.”
“Yes.”
“Are the computations flawless?”
“Affirmative. Once the Marquis advances thirty steps closer, exactly like you predicted, he'll step into the zone.”
“Error probability—”
“None. I verified it all twice more right after we ascended.”
“No issues will arise,” Penia assured with conviction.
Alon nodded faintly, released a soft breath, and directed his sight toward the sin on the ground.
Just like earlier, the Sin's incarnation remained statue-still, seemingly anticipating something.
Alon still puzzled over the Sin's inaction even now, yet he chose to push the mystery aside.
Just two factors concerned him.
One, the Sin had halted its movements in that manner.
Two, such immobility guaranteed his scheme would execute without a hitch.
“Commence.”
“Yes.”
With Alon's hushed command, Penia channeled magic into the crystal orb.
Immediately, the troops advanced steadily, one foot after another.
Tension and dread gleamed in their eyes.
Tension facing the unspeakable.
Dread of the unfamiliar.
These feelings twisted inside them while their stares fixed on the Sin.
Their strides faltered.
They clenched their weapons harder.
Their pulses raced fiercely.
The spectacle ahead—
The Sin ahead—
Their own fantasies—
All merged to gradually plunge them into panic.
Yet once they crossed twenty steps, the terror and fright in their gazes started to dissolve.
The fear gripping their souls dissipated.
Their shaky, burdened footfalls grew firm, resuming their steady pace.
Their rigid holds loosened.
Their thundering hearts slowly quieted.
At last, upon hitting thirty steps—
Wooooong!
A colossal barrier started forming in front of them.
A huge dome-like shield expanded before the soldiers—
“What... what's this?”
Bewilderment swept over their faces.
But just briefly.
“Remove this barrier—”
“We can't finish the task this way!”
“Take it down! We can't slay the monster!”
“Free us!”
“You cursed mages!!”
Outbursts of fury erupted from them.
Unlike the earlier terror, the soldiers now burned with rage, yearning to escape and destroy the Sin.
Any observer would sense something gravely amiss.
“Just as anticipated,” Penia whispered.
“Indeed.”
Alon observed the terrain below with composure.
This whole maneuver stemmed from his blueprint, after all.
[Mountain of Corpses]
[Wrath]
The former was straightforward—a pile formed from countless corpses.
The higher the stack of bodies, the broader its reach extended, forcing status effects on everyone nearby.
Wrath, the latter power, boosted the Sin’s might based on the count of cursed individuals.
Greater the number ensnared, mightier it swelled.
A straightforward yet ruinous power.
Thus, with forces from the Allied Kingdoms amassed, the Sin of Wrath had ballooned to inconceivable strength.
Alon, fully aware, had deliberately summoned these troops.
Owing to a key extra feature of the Sin of Wrath.
As fury fueled its offense, its defenses weakened proportionally.
Hence, its guard stood at an all-time low presently.
This formed the core of Alon's strategy.
“Blackie, you're up.”
[Meow-!]
Handing Blackie a strike that voraciously drained magic, Alon swiftly entered the pre-set magic circle Penia had arranged.
Next—
Wooooooong!
The formation activated with a hum, unleashing a dazzling white glow that poured onto the mages' barrier below.
And right then—
Kwagagagak!
Fresh arrays unfurled sequentially.
Layering like nested dolls, one atop the other.
Simultaneously—
The Sin, which had passively observed Alon’s scheme until then,
Clack—
Lifted its blade.
A brutal, notched greatsword.
And then—
[This is as far as I’ll wait.]
Uttering incomprehensible words to Alon,
Tss—!
The Sin disappeared.
Its speed surpassed human perception.
Instantly, it materialized at the barrier, hoisting its sword to smash through—
Yet precisely then—
Kwachik!
A golden coffin erupted from below, poised in ambush.
“—!”
The Sin retracted in the nick of time, evading it.
This triggered the onslaught—
Kwagagagak—!!
Golden coffins hidden underground burst forth, swirling wildly inside the barrier, targeting the Sin relentlessly.
The Sin contorted and charged at Rine, the controller of the coffins.
However—
Skreeeek!
Its left arm severed cleanly right before her.
“Such a shame,” Alon muttered. “A bit nearer, and we'd have ended it instantly.”
Just then, violet threads gleamed over the golden coffins, with Deus advancing beside Rine.
They had company.
From behind the evading Sin, Seolrang and Radan pressed the attack amid threads and coffins.
“Urgh—!”
Seolrang’s kick and Radan’s spear narrowly missed the Sin’s rear by a whisker.
Seeing the quartet confront the beast, Alon let out a subdued breath.
The Sin of Wrath’s assault power loomed immense—utterly overpowering any magical buffs.
They might parry once, at most.
Thus, rather than bolstering the barrier, Alon tasked Rine, Seolrang, Deus, and Radan with stalling within.
An incredibly perilous order, no doubt.
Yet feasible.
Currently, the Sin of Wrath couldn't dismiss minor threats.
In short, Rine’s golden coffins and Deus’s violet threads demanded its focus.
True, it could pulverize them raw.
That suited the plan.
Since the barrier held not only Rine and Deus—Seolrang and Radan lurked too.
With the four pressing nonstop, the Sin—needing lethal strikes—struggled to counter.
The strategy flowed even smoother than Alon envisioned.
“Whew…”
Alon wiped the blood dripping from his nose and glanced skyward.
Aloft, Blackie’s sustained spell kept growing, nourished by Alon’s mana.
The Bullet of the Unfulfilled Wish—the very incantation that obliterated the Sin of Sloth.
Now primed, it loomed grandly overhead.
“Nggh—!”
Reclaiming command from Blackie, Alon unleashed it.
Kwagagagagak—!!!
The pure mana orb ripped through the sky, descending upon the Sin.
Deliberately—
Relentlessly.
“Marquis!” Penia cried.
Alon stayed silent.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet—
“Penia—!”
“Yes!”
On cue, Penia reignited the magic sphere.
Concurrently, Seolrang, Rine, Radan, and Deus activated artifacts to warp outside the barrier.
And then—
!
White radiance blanketed the blood-soaked realm.
***
As the overwhelming glare that engulfed all started to dim, one notion surfaced in Alon’s thoughts.
No, it proved no simple feat.
Nearly a month of groundwork, plus the full might of the Allied Kingdoms’ armies.
Still, gazing below, Alon couldn’t dispel a nagging doubt.
Dust settled from the light’s impact, unveiling the battlefield.
He noted the soldiers first, furrowing brows in bewilderment over their prior actions.
Then Radan, Seolrang, Rine, and Deus, who’d evacuated timely.
And lastly—
In the heart of a scorched crater—
The Sin of Wrath.
…!
Its state screamed abnormality.
The hefty armor, once vibrant, had paled to ghostly gray, on the verge of total fade.
Left hand utterly missing.
Nevertheless—
That jarred them.
The Sin’s form persisted.
Against Sloth, the shape held due to intact Sin durability.
Wrath’s Sin, though, ought to have crumbled—Deus’s threads nearly unraveled it alone.
Retaining a body felt... wrong.
The instant unease hit Alon—
“...?”
He dropped to the earth.
Eerily abrupt.
From hovering beside Penia to facing the Sin directly.
And then—
Thud—
The Sin’s tarnished, fractured armor—hitherto motionless—shed in fragments.
Like a bug molting its husk.
Delicately.
Piece by piece.
The battered plating tumbled.
The lackluster helm.
The notched blade.
All of it—
Discarded.
Revealed beneath—
A knight-like figure, yet inhuman.
Encased in pitch-black armor, as if smelted from night’s abyss obsidian, subtly aglow with molten starlight.
Crimson runes and constellations veined its surface, throbbing with faint life.
In its empty chest core—
A lone star blazed.
Void-deep, yet fiercely radiant.
Silence blanketed the field—
Then the entity intoned, voice echoing clearly.
[Can you bear the burden of sin?]