Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 369 : Consciousness Returned (1)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
Alon gazed vacantly at the heavens.
Prior to uncovering the truth, that expanse had solely shimmered with the Milky Way, yet now it overflowed with innumerable eyes crammed within.
Each varied greatly in shape and scale.
One thing remained undeniable: they were eyes—thousands upon tens of thousands of them.
Alon quietly peered upward at them, unwittingly releasing a empty chuckle.
His initial thought drifted to Psychedelia.
The game granting him vague foresight into this world's events.
The game that armed him with insight to rescue the youngsters fated as the five great sins.
Naturally, Alon viewed this realm not as mere gameplay.
He had grasped long ago it transcended simple digital code.
Even the dimmest mind would recognize that now.
Instead, his memory summoned Psychedelia's conclusion.
Clearing the game as Eliban, the protagonist, by seizing every sin, always altered the finale.
This was expected.
Guided by player choices for Eliban, endless paths diverged into varied outcomes.
At times, purging all sins left the frail Allied Kingdom vulnerable to Empire assault.
Other instances saw triumph tainted by piled infamy, yielding grim fates.
He witnessed diverse conclusions tied to Eliban's chosen classes.
Among them stood so-called happy endings.
A finale sparing every companion bonded to Eliban from death.
A miraculous close where the Allied Kingdom retained full might, untouched by Empire incursion.
Any gamer would deem it blissful.
Still, every one of those myriad finales shared a constant.
It emerged in the closing words displayed.
Be it tragic or joyful.
The unvarying message confronting the player.
‘You alone have escaped destruction.’
This enigmatic line sparked endless player debates, theories, and gripes.
Some guessed it teased a follow-up game.
Back then, Alon spared it casual curiosity.
He scoured the web for clues.
He browsed fan wikis compiling guesses.
Ultimately, lacking developer confirmation, mere rumors faded from his mind.
But here and now, Alon grasped its true intent.
Psychedelia's close wasn't absolute finality.
Whichever path Eliban followed, it marked merely halting the sins.
What followed stayed concealed.
Thus arose the words:
‘You alone have escaped destruction.’
“Hah.”
Assembling the unwelcome truth's fragments, Alon uttered another empty laugh.
Myriad eyes across the deep blue night sky persisted in glaring downward.
Countless stares bore into him.
Countless sentiments washed over him too.
And then—
Vroooom—!
A colossal rumble started reverberating.
No magic array produced it.
No mechanism either.
Not any vibration.
Rather, the world itself birthed this eerie clamor.
Yet the noise swiftly swallowed all emotions around.
Terror gripped the soldiers.
Dread shook the knights.
Mages swung between strain and surrender.
And then—
Tck—
A faint snap sounded, like a thread breaking—
The Milky Way everyone beheld—
The eyes only Alon—and a handful—perceived—
Plummeted earthward.
“...Wow.”
Soldiers breathed in wonder.
Those gripped by horror now lost their hearts to the cascading Milky Way, like a stellar cascade.
Alon, however, differed.
[AAAAAAAAAAA]
[Rottingrottingrottingrottingrotting]
[Rrrrrrr]
First assaulting Alon's ears came repulsive, chilling shrieks that prickled his flesh.
[Killkillkillkill]
[I will kill the god of earth and I will]
[This time, for sure—]
Next came malediction whispers brimming with obscure intent.
Regret and fury thickened murmurs aimed at unknown targets.
And the ultimate voices—
-[Now I can finally see]
-[Show me, let me witness it]
-[Finallyfinallyfinallyfinallyfinallyfinally—]
Phrases Alon's thoughts failed to parse.
“Why...?”
The query escaped his lips unbidden.
He never foresaw those celestial horrors descending precisely here, precisely now.
But then—
[Because we were holding it back.]
As if replying to his skepticism, One Who Bears It whispered gently.
[The rest is up to you.]
With that parting note, the presence dissolved utterly.
Gazing at the void left with partial revelation, Alon muttered—
“...What?”
Abruptly, his sight lurched violently.
Though momentarily dazed, realization struck fast.
Shock had blinded him to it before.
His form lay far from whole.
Divine essence from the Primordial Elf mended some, yet gashes lingered everywhere.
Wiping his face, both palms emerged drenched in blood from eyes and nostrils.
Alon stared dully at the crimson smears.
“...I should rest for a bit.”
Declaring so, he simply shut his eyes.
Calls from behind—
And freakish din from the plummeting meteors—
All receded into remoteness.
***
When did it commence?
As awareness steadily resurfaced.
Before long, Alon stirred awake.
Instantly, reports flooded in.
First came news of his two-week-plus coma.
And second—
Eliban, presumed lost with One Who Bears It, endured.
Granted, questioning him outright proved impossible.
Eliban had tumbled from above post-disappearance, locked in coma since.
Still, quiet solace filled Alon inwardly.
At minimum, Eliban's demise wasn't desired.
With Eliban breathing, answers awaited someday.
Behind Eliban's final address to him.
“Father...”
Alon puzzled over the term's origin.
True, he'd nurtured Eliban from tender youth.
Yet hardly enough to earn 'father.'
Did Eliban truly yearn for that bond alone?
After brief rumination, Alon dismissed it.
Deeper emotion gleamed in Eliban's gaze.
Prolonged reflection only weighed heavier on Alon's heart.
Truthfully, myriad queries burned.
Post-event resolutions.
The children's welfare.
Fate of sky-fallen eyes.
He yearned for full details.
One might chide his hesitation.
Curious? Just inquire.
Fair critique.
Seek answers directly from those present.
His chamber hosted capable informants for each.
Yet Alon withheld questions.
Or rather—
Couldn't pose them.
Merely consciousness had returned to Alon.
Indeed, solely that.
Regrettably, his frame lay immobile.
Essentially, a living vegetable.
Fleeting panic hit upon waking: eternal paralysis?
Swiftly banished.
He discerned the immobility's cause.
Alon serenely assessed his physique.
However inspected, abnormality reigned.
A ruinous state.
Natural mending seemed unattainable.
Nevertheless, regeneration progressed steadily.
Cause unknown.
Bereft of Primordial Elf's divinity, renewal continued.
At this rate—
Eyelids might part in days.
Rine's forecasts aided precise full-awakening timelines.
One hitch lingered.
“To be honest, the chances are high that there will be issues with his memory.”
Her prophecy bore a caveat.
“Godfather, he used his power far too excessively this time.”
“But... wouldn’t that cause damage to the mana hole or something?”
“Thankfully, the mana hole is intact. However, the control device you used to restrain that impossible level of mana most likely sustained damage.”
“Then...”
“Please don't worry too much. In the worst-case scenario, it should only result in short-term memory loss. If it goes beyond that—”
“If it goes beyond that?”
“Let’s end it there. Honestly, I doubt it will go that far. Mm~ but if it does, then it would probably be best to recount all the memories and experiences you've shared with him, wouldn’t it?”
“Memories and experiences?”
“Yes. Even in this state, the subconscious can remain awake. If we speak to him in advance about familiar memories, there’s a higher chance his memory will return.”
“However, do not include any unnecessary content. If the memories return incorrectly, it could cause problems.”
“Incorrectly?”
“He may remember things exactly as we tell them—even if those things never happened in reality.”
Rine’s steady tone resounded amid the assembled group.
Silence briefly descended.
“That... that would be bad.”
“We’ll have to be extremely precise.”
“That’s right. We should tell the Marquis exactly as it happened.”
“Then, whenever we have time, we can recount some memories from the past.”
Each voiced resolve in turn, gradually departing the chamber.
Thus, deep into the night—
“My Lord.”
Yutia approached.
“Um... when should I begin speaking?”
Seating herself, she commenced in astonishing poise.
“It starts with a story from when I was eight years old.”
Recollections poured forth.
“...Although Seolrang keeps saying my actual age is over two thousand, that’s obviously nonsense. Back then, I was definitely eight years old when you saved me, My Lord.”
Her tales—
“Exchanging letters with you was always such a joy. Oh, and just to be clear, Seolrang’s words aren’t true, all right? There’s no way I’m over two thousand. How could a human live that long?”
Cold sweat gathered on Alon as discourse veered perilously.
Somehow, even eyes open now, silence seemed wisest.