Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 411: Proclamation Ceremony (6)

The banquet hall was incredibly boisterous. It was only to be expected, as the attendees at Marquis Palatio’s proclamation ceremony were the key figures of the Allied Kingdoms, and there were quite a number of them. Yet, despite the crowded hall and the ceaseless din, all sound around Alon seemed to distinctly fade away. Ryang-a and Historia, who had been cautiously offering Alon food, halted mid-motion, plates still raised. Magrina, the elven queen, previously engaged in pleasantries with dignitaries from various nations, perked up her characteristically pointed elven ears. Evan and Penia exchanged glances with Alon, their expressions a clear question: Huh!? Penia, in particular, appeared more astonished and intrigued than Evan. Meanwhile, Yutia and Rine, who had been conversing with others, instantly seemed to comprehend the situation and turned their attention towards Alon. All of this transpired within mere seconds. However, Alon himself remained oblivious. This was partly because, even with the localized quietening, the overall banquet hall remained overwhelmingly loud. But more significantly— “Would it be acceptable if I inquired about the one you hold dear in your heart?” —the queen posed this question before Alon could notice any other changes. Gasp— A sharp intake of breath was immediately heard from somewhere to Alon’s right. Amidst the surrounding silence, a palpable tension began to build. Deus and Radan observed Alon with mild interest on their faces. Nangwon and Nangyeon, concealed as commoners and careful to hide their peculiar eyes lest they cause a disturbance, watched him with visible curiosity. And— ‘…My legs feel like they’re about to give out.’ High above in the banquet hall, Hidan, maintaining a silent vigil for any potential issues, peered down with a face etched with apprehension. [This was due to Hidan having witnessed a similar scenario before.] And Alon, who was knowingly, yet unknowingly, the focus of all these gazes— “...That might be impolite to disclose, so I would prefer not to answer...” —responded thusly to the queen. “Oh my, that was rather an impertinent question, wasn't it? I suppose I must be growing old and meddlesomely nosy.” Though she had not obtained the desired information, the queen lowered her head and offered a smile, prompting Alon to shake his head. “It’s quite all right.” At his words, the atmosphere instantly relaxed. The attention previously fixed upon Alon naturally shifted back to their respective conversations. Ryang-a and Historia, who had been momentarily interrupted, resumed their actions. And at the precise moment Hidan discreetly exhaled in relief— “Then, though it may still be considered nosy of me, may I ask just one more thing?” “...And what might that be?” “To be candid, I find myself curious about the kind of individual someone as detached as you could come to care for. Might you perhaps, even briefly, describe their characteristics?” With these supplementary words from the queen, the easing tension tightened once more. The gazes that had begun to drift away naturally re-converged on Alon. Hidan, who had just exhaled, found himself holding his breath again. And Alon— ‘No, why is she being so insistent?’ —felt a touch of bewilderment by Torimavia’s persistence. However, after a moment of reflection, Alon quickly discerned the reason for her earnest questioning. ‘It must be that the princesses are approaching a critical age for marriage.’ Of course, to Alon’s knowledge, most of the princesses were not exceptionally old. But in a world like this fantasy setting, the marriageable age arrived quite swiftly. This meant that, despite their youth, the princesses were apparently nearing the socially appropriate age. ‘Naturally, I passed that point a very, very long time ago…’ Alon himself had, indeed, surpassed that threshold quite some time ago. Even so, the reason for her persistent inquiry was likely due to his elevated status, no longer merely a marquis but a king. Nevertheless, understanding the queen’s persistent questioning was separate from the actual issue. Alon still harbored no inclination towards marriage and began to ponder. After concluding his thoughts, he finally answered, “Her smile is beautiful.” “I see.” “And she is endearing.” “Endearing…?” “Yes.” “……” “……” “……Do you have no other qualities to mention?” “Mm… she is considerate. She always prioritizes the other person’s feelings.” Upon hearing Alon’s response, the queen adopted a somewhat peculiar expression. ‘If I were listening to this, I imagine I’d make the same face.’ Naturally, Alon was not recounting these traits with any specific individual in mind. In the first place, he currently held no romantic affections for anyone. Therefore, he had simply spoken the first things that came to his head. “I hope that has sufficiently addressed your inquiry.” “...Yes, thank you for indulging my inquisitiveness.” “There is no need to regard it in such a manner.” With that concluding remark, Alon successfully deflected the queen’s persistent questioning.

And once he was certain she had vanished towards a corner of the banquet hall, letting out a breath of relief—

“......”

—From his vantage point on the ceiling, Hidan, who had been silently observing the entire proceeding, could clearly perceive it.

The expressions on the faces of those surrounding the Great Moon were exceedingly complex and ambiguous—

the sort that made it impossible to discern if they were pleased or displeased.

Individuals attempting to force triumphant smiles only to suddenly falter, as if questioning their own joy, and then shifting their countenances once more.

Hidan observed them for a considerable duration, a swirl of emotions churning within him.

####

Precisely one day later.

The territory, having just concluded a boisterous week-long festival, was finally beginning to settle into a calmer rhythm.

And around the time the festivities within the territory, which had seemed as though they would never cease being lively, were gradually subsiding—

“Haa...”

Alon emitted a deep sigh from his office.

“Is something the matter?”

“Nothing at all. I’m simply a bit weary.”

Upon hearing this, Evan offered a nod.

“That is perfectly understandable.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

Alon cast his thoughts back to the previous day.

He had harbored the expectation that once the Queen of Raksas departed, he could finally watch over the banquet with tranquility. Alas, true rest had eluded him entirely.

For in the aftermath, he had been plunged into a veritable inferno of unending pleasantries and greetings.

‘At the very least, the significant figures I’d already paid my respects to had the good sense not to approach me again.’

While preparing for the proclamation ceremony, it had been impossible for him to greet every single distinguished guest in attendance.

This was partly due to the overwhelming volume of tasks at hand, but also simply because an immense number of individuals had specifically come with the intention of meeting him.

Consequently, yesterday had seen Alon obliged to extend his greetings to every prominent person he had not yet conversed with.

His day stretched on for so long that the sun, once high in the sky, eventually dipped below the mountains.

...To be perfectly candid, had he been at liberty to act according to his own desires, he would have preferred to abandon the greetings midway and make his escape.

Alon now held the position of King.

However, being a monarch did not equate to possessing the freedom to do precisely as one pleased.

Thus, Alon released another profound sigh.

“Still, you shouldn’t trouble yourself excessively. The greetings have all concluded now, and all that remains is for you to revel in the remainder of the banquet, correct?”

“Well, that is certainly true.”

“And moreover, people will soon begin their departures.”

Alon inclined his head in agreement.

The banquet was undeniably most vibrant on the initial day, and thereafter, the crowd gradually diminished.

‘...Nevertheless, commencing today or perhaps tomorrow, even I should be capable of maintaining a more leisurely schedule.’

While Alon was lost in these thoughts, the door to the office was opened.

“Penia.”

“Greetings, Marquis— no, should I now be addressing you as Your Majesty?”

It was Penia, standing there.

“Mm. That designation feels somewhat burdensome.”

“Then, should I continue to address you as Marquis?”

“...That, in its own way, also feels slightly peculiar.”

Alon paused for a moment, contemplating.

Frankly speaking, if he had his preference, he would have asked her to simply continue calling him Marquis, but that might appear odd in a different context.

“...Just append the honorific to my name.”

“Alon-nim, in that fashion?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, I understand.”

Penia nodded with a smile.

As Alon gazed at her, his head tilted slightly to the side.

There was something subtly different about Penia.

After a moment of pondering, Alon quickly identified the change.

“Penia.”

“Yes?”

“Have you altered your hairstyle?”

At Alon’s inquiry, Penia’s eyes widened momentarily, and then a gentle smile graced the corners of her lips.

“Yes, ahem— you’ve noticed?”

“You are frequently in my vicinity. But… has something occurred?”

Alon posed the question knowing that Penia had always been resolute in maintaining her consistent hairstyle.

Yet, Penia merely replied,

“No, nothing significant… I simply felt inclined towards a change of pace.”

As she spoke, she playfully twirled a strand of her blue hair around her finger.

At this gesture, Alon tilted his head once more.

‘...Didn’t Penia always hold her usual hairstyle in high regard?’

For reasons unknown, within the narrative, Penia had consistently demonstrated extreme steadfastness regarding her default hairstyle.

He found it peculiar, but Alon soon dismissed the thought with a shrug.

“Ah, and Sili conveyed that she is preparing to commence her actions now.”

“Abruptly?”

“You are aware, regarding that matter you previously brought up? The one about bringing individuals over to the Divine Land.”

At these words, Alon inadvertently let out a small sound.

Then, a sudden curiosity piqued his interest.

“...Penia, allow me to inquire just to be certain— what precisely is Sili undertaking?”

“Sili? I am not privy to the exact specifics, but concerning this Divine Land initiative, I heard she managed to secure some of the necessary funds and attended to certain arrangements… and then, apparently, she intends to embark on a path of evangelism?”

“...Secured funds? No, more crucially, evangelism?”

“Yes.”

“...Her plan is to draw people in through preaching, is it?”

“Uh… that is what she stated.”

Alon appeared utterly perplexed.

Regardless of how exceptionally gifted Sili might be, the notion of attracting nearly half the populace merely through sermons seemed improbable.

Therefore—

“...Evan.”

“Yes.”

“Maintain a close watch on Sili’s activities.”

“...Understood.”

With a blend of intense curiosity and underlying concern, Alon issued the directive to Evan.

####

CONCURRENTLY as Alon was engaged in the post-proclamation ceremony banquet held by the Palantia Kingdom, a hidden underground cavern within the Caliban Kingdom served as the setting for a different event.

[Hmm—?]

The entity known as The One Who Soars High, previously in a state of repose upon a colossal stone throne with its eyes shut, suddenly opened them amidst the profound darkness.

The immediate sight that greeted its vision upon awakening was a swirling black hole materializing directly before it.

Despite observing a phenomenon that defied all logic and should not have been possible in the tangible world, The One Who Soars High regarded the anomaly with remarkable composure.

[It has been an age, The One Who Spits Arms.]

These words were uttered.

In that precise instant, the previously diminutive black hole expanded exponentially, transforming into an immense aperture.

Subsequently, obsidian tentacles began to erupt from its unfathomable depths.

These were tentacles of the deepest black, appearing as if their very touch would inexorably siphon the life essence from any subject caught within their grasp.

And at the absolute epicenter of the abyss from which these appendages emerged, a solitary, luminous white eye took form.

[Indeed, it has been an age.]

The One Who Spits Arms responded.

[Your entrances are invariably quite the spectacle.]

[This was no grand entrance. I simply established a 'conduit' for our dialogue.]

[Even so, that precisely constitutes its dramatic flair.]

With a gesture of its shoulders, The One Who Soars High resumed the conversation.

[More pressingly, I was apprilled of the matter. You intervened to save Raksasi— or was it Raksas?]

[Affirmative— that insignificant pest was intoxicated by its modest measure of potency. I surmised it would be more convenient to consume it later if I provided assistance, especially as I also bore the directive from that Other One. However—]

“However?”

Responding to The One Who Soars High’s interrogative, The One Who Spits Arms remained momentarily silent, its tentacles exhibiting a subtle ripple.

[…To be entirely candid, I harbored no particular inclination to lend aid. My own interests would have been far better served by simply assimilating the outcome after that creature had meticulously toiled to reconfigure the implements to its own precise desires.]

[Ah— I must confess, I share that sentiment entirely.]

An exchange of profound significance, comprehensible only to those of Divine lineage.

[Yet, permit me to impart a crucial insight. In due course, you shall find your decision to have been the correct one.]

[…This specific decision?]

[Precisely.]

[The reasoning?]

[Because, by extending aid to Raksas, you have inadvertently aligned yourself with the Star Eater.]

[Aligned myself with the Star Eater? Even so, what consequence does such an affiliation hold?]

The One Who Spits Arms inquired, conveying an air of genuine bewilderment regarding the implication of The One Who Soars High’s declaration.

[Its significance is self-evident.]

The One Who Soars High stated assertively.

[…Elaborate, if you would.]

Faced with this subsequent inquiry, The One Who Soars High's visage contorted into a wide grin.

[Because the Star Eater possesses the inherent capacity to assimilate the power vested within Divine blood, subsequently distributing it according to its own discretion.]

[What… did you just profess???]

This was the pronouncement delivered.

A statement of such magnitude that, were Alon to be privy to it, he would undoubtedly exclaim, ‘What in blazes? What preposterous notion is this?’

[Is that… the absolute truth?]

[Undeniably.]

In response to The One Who Soars High’s affirmative nod, the unnervingly grotesque white eye of The One Who Spits Arms dilated to its absolute maximum capacity.