Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 381 : Magic (1)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
Alon’s gaze rested upon Ryanga.
Her eyes, previously lost and unfocused, scanned her surroundings briefly, a flicker of bewilderment crossing her face.
Tap—
Without uttering a single word, she gracefully descended from Alon’s lap. Taking a few steps forward—
Tss-!
She dissolved from sight in an instant.
The entire event transpired faster than a blink.
Alon remained staring at the empty space where Ryanga had just stood, a prolonged silence hanging in the air before he finally spoke.
“Penia.”
“Yes, Marquis.”
“Are all the individuals close to me… inherently peculiar?”
“Mm… in a manner of speaking, yes?”
“And what exactly does that imply?”
“There are indeed several ways to interpret that statement.”
As Penia was delivering her response—
“Well, I merely stepped out briefly for the auction. Did anything of consequence occur while I was away?”
Evan made his return, having just concluded his business elsewhere.
“Nothing too grave. It appears the rumor regarding the Marquis’s memory loss has disseminated somewhat.”
“The Marquis’s circumstances?”
“Well, it’s hardly a cause for alarm. The spread doesn’t seem to have been extensive.”
Penia proceeded to recount the day’s events in their entirety.
Upon hearing the full account, Evan offered a soft, contemplative hum.
“Hmm, I suppose that’s a somewhat subdued reaction compared to what I might have anticipated.”
“Less than you anticipated?”
“Indeed.”
“Hold on… Was it perhaps you who initially informed everyone that I had lost my memory?”
“Certainly not. To what end would I disseminate such information?”
Evan executed a casual shrug.
“When I mentioned it fell short of expectations, I was referring to the level of reaction.”
“The reaction?”
“Precisely. To be frank, I had presumed they would seize the opportunity to act more decisively upon learning of your memory lapse.”
“Act in what manner?”
“Ah, you understand… perhaps something akin to an abduction?”
“…What?”
Evan uttered such a chilling possibility with such nonchalance that Alon found himself regarding him with a degree of disbelief, half-expecting a jest.
“You are not engaging in jest, are you?”
“Why ever would I joke about such a matter?”
Evan affirmed his statement with an earnest expression.
“…Hmm, perhaps your assessment holds merit.”
Penia, who had been attentively observing the exchange, chimed in with her agreement, further deepening Alon’s confusion.
‘What kind of thirteen years have I truly lived through?’
A deep, resonant sigh escaped his lips.
####
As evening descended, all individuals who had attempted to exploit Alon’s amnesia for their own benefit eventually presented themselves to offer their apologies.
Alon, for his part, dismissed the matter with a light wave of his hand.
Ultimately, no significant harm had befallen him.
Furthermore, the “pranks” they had orchestrated were easily overshadowed by the sheer extravagance of the gifts they had presented.
‘Although… that one particular item is rather excessive.’
From his vantage point on the balcony, Alon’s gaze fell upon a colossal statue, which seemed to have augmented in size even since the morning. He then shifted his attention toward the vibrant, bustling dining hall.
His first observation was of Blackie and Basiliora, the two newly acquired “pets,” engrossed in their meal preparations with notable eagerness, all while undergoing training.
Following that, Nangwon and Deus were engaged in animated conversation, appearing as though they had known each other for ages.
Historia sat in quiet contemplation, her gaze fixed upon Blackie.
And lastly, Ryanga and Magrina could be seen in a hushed exchange.
It presented a tableau of tranquility, wholly undisturbed by any form of discord.
For Alon, whose memory of the past thirteen years was completely erased, there existed no logical reason to harbor any distinct emotional response towards them.
Yet, despite this, the mere act of observing them instilled within him an inexplicable sense of profound peace.
It was as though this serene panorama… was something he held in genuine, deep affection.
This peculiar paradox elicited a soft, subdued chuckle from him, though it was fleeting.
Turning his eyes toward the nocturnal expanse above, Alon ran a hand through his hair, emitting another sigh.
He had replayed the situation countless times—
But still, he could not devise a method to reinstate his depleted magic.
‘Is there genuinely a viable path forward?’
The magical restoration Alon sought was subject to a stringent, clearly defined constraint.
To effectively employ magic, it was imperative to establish a “covenant” involving both an “artifact” and a specific “hand seal.”
This intricate linkage empowered a mage to channel abilities far exceeding conventional limits.
Consequently, the fundamental basis of Alon’s magical prowess—its raw destructive force—was inherently governed by the established protocols of this covenant.
To disregard these protocols would signify the forfeiture of the very core essence of his magical capabilities.
In essence, the predicament that plagued Alon was one that teetered on the precipice of impossibility.
“My Lord?”
Precisely as Alon exhaled a sigh, lost in these somber reflections, a voice gently intruded.
He instinctively inclined his head towards the source of the sound.
“Yutia—sis—”
He managed to catch the incomplete utterance just in time.
Although Penia had thoroughly briefed him on their familial connection, his ingrained instinct was still to address her as “sister,” a term he had once used so habitually.
Because he faltered in completing his sentence, the subtle tinge of sorrow that flickered in Yutia’s eyes went unnoticed by him.
“You are welcome to address me by whatever designation feels most comfortable to you,” she conveyed, her voice accompanied by a tender smile.
“No, still—”
“It is perfectly acceptable. My sole desire is to avoid causing you any discomfort. Therefore, please, feel free to use any term you prefer. I will be content regardless.”
Despite the outward semblance of a smile, Alon could not shake the unsettling feeling that her smile lacked genuine warmth.
He subtly averted his gaze.
“So, the reason for your arrival— no, what brings you out here?”
“I came because it appeared you were preoccupied with some matter. Might I inquire as to the source of your current unease?”
“It pertains to… this current predicament I find myself in.”
“This state?”
“Indeed. I deliberately sealed away my own memories as a means to refine my magical abilities. However—”
He was on the verge of articulating, “because I lack a certain creative spark,” but then paused.
To elaborate on that point would necessitate revealing an excessive amount about his personal history.
According to Penia’s account, Alon and Yutia had shared a connection for a considerable duration of thirteen years.
But would he truly have confided in her about the world from which he originated?
The answer, almost unequivocally, was no.
“So, the issue concerns magic, is that it?” she inquired.
Her question interjected into his musings.
“Precisely.”
“Hmm… could the solution perhaps be found within your own recollections?”
“My recollections?”
“Indeed.”
“For instance—”
Her striking, luminous red eyes flickered with a moment’s contemplation.
A subtle smile then graced her lips.
“Something akin to encapsulating magic.”
“Encapsulating…?”
Alon repeated Yutia’s suggestion, his voice a low murmur.
Yet, it wasn't as if this concept was entirely alien to him.
He already possessed a “Hogaptu,” a device designed to contain a single spell.
Furthermore, from the myriad fantasy narratives he had consumed prior to his arrival, he was aware of a spell known as Memorize.
However, neither of these options provided a viable resolution to the predicament Alon currently faced.
The Hogaptu’s capacity was limited to one spell, usable only once.
And the Memorize spell, so ubiquitous in fantasy fiction it had become a trope, which allowed a mage to pre-emptively store multiple spells for later deployment—was simply non-existent in this realm.
‘Even if it were theoretically feasible, the maximum one could realistically store would be a solitary spell.’
In essence, it offered no significant advantage over the Hogaptu.
Consequently—
“I’ve considered that before, but it’s not a practical solution.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. While theoretically possible to store magic, it is a one-time event. And it can only be done prior to activating Reverse Heaven.”
“And why is that?”
“The reason is… somewhat complex, but essentially, to store magic, it must be placed within the mana core.”
“…So, if Reverse Heaven is used and your mana surges, the stored spell might become unstable… Is that the gist of it?”
“With sufficient research, that risk could likely be mitigated, but yes, that is the fundamental issue.”
Yutia lapsed into silence for a brief interval.
She then queried unexpectedly, “However… would it truly be a drawback if it could only hold one?”
“What do you imply?”
“Well, the core of the problem lies with the hand seal and the incantation, does it not?”
“That is correct.”
“But you already possess a secondary hand seal, correct?”
“Hmm—”
“Even so, the incantation remains a hurdle,” Alon countered.
Yutia paused momentarily, as if carefully selecting her words.
“…Could the incantation not also be manifested through magic itself?”
“…Through magic?”
“The purpose of the incantation is to enact the laws of magic, correct? So, why must it be vocalized?”
Alon’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Well, naturally—”
He initiated a rebuttal, but then—
“…?”
A realization dawned upon him.
An idea that had never previously occurred to him.
A hypothesis—unverified, untested, yet potentially sound.
And at the exact moment this thought struck him—
“Hmm, well… to be honest, I merely voiced the thought without much deep consideration,” Yutia confessed softly, her smile returning.
“No, that is, in fact, an excellent suggestion.”
“Really?”
“Thank you.”
“I am pleased I could be of assistance. I wished to be of value to you, My Lord.”
Maintaining her smile, Yutia added, “It appears you require further reflection. I shall proceed inside.”
With a graceful curtsy, she withdrew and made her way back towards the dining hall.
Left to his own devices, Alon turned Yutia’s idea over and over in his mind, contemplating the inspiration she had provided.
Then—
“Huh?”
A sudden insight struck him.
Something so subtle it had previously gone unnoticed.
Yet, the realization filled him with a peculiar sense of unease.
‘Wait… did I ever mention to her that I was working on refining the incantation and hand seal?’
Alon gazed blankly for a considerable time at Yutia, who had rejoined the others inside, engaged in conversation with a smile.
####
To summarize the outcome—
Seolrang had successfully reached the Asterian capital, Teria, within a mere few hours.
Two primary factors contributed to this swift arrival.
Firstly, Asteria’s transportation infrastructure significantly outpaced that of Colony.
Secondly, she was aware that Asteria’s city hall maintained extended operating hours compared to Colony’s.
Naturally, the documents she carried originated from Colony, but this detail held no consequence.
Within the Allied Kingdoms, unless a law was personally enacted by the king, all matters adhered to the Rosario legal framework.
This adherence to legal precedent enabled Seolrang to travel with remarkable speed, reaching Teria without delay.
Elated that Yutia had not intercepted her, she proceeded directly to city hall.
Even as she meticulously re-examined the marriage certificate, a nagging sense of apprehension lingered—what if Yutia was awaiting her there?
She entered the building and surveyed the interior.
Yutia was nowhere to be seen.
Only then did Seolrang allow herself a sigh of relief.
Her face alight with expectant joy, she presented the marriage certificate to the clerk.
And then—
“I sincerely apologize, but this document cannot be processed.”
“Eh…?”
The response was an immediate refusal.
“W-why is that?”
“Well… have you perhaps not heard? Approximately one week ago, Rosario instituted a new regulation. Henceforth, the presence of both signatories is mandatory for marriage approval.”
The receptionist provided this explanation cautiously, her gaze shifting nervously.
At that very moment, a few disparate pieces of information coalesced in Seolrang’s mind:
Rosario.
Cardinal Yutia.
Marriage certificate.
The absence of Yutia’s intervention.
With these converging clues, the truth became starkly apparent.
“T-this… th-that’s cheating!”
Her voice quivered with utter despair.
It felt as though she could faintly discern a distant, mocking laughter—
The laughter of the one who had manipulated the very legal system to thwart her plans.