Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 477: Astarotte (8)

Within the elven realm of Greynif, specifically within the royal palace of Fildagreen, Rine remained engrossed in her vast library, as she habitually did.

Then, at a certain moment—

her eyes fluttered open from their closed state, and—

“It’s been a while,” she whispered softly.

Though the room was empty, Rine spoke aloud.

It appeared peculiar, but immediately thereafter—

“Oh my, you knew?”

“Naturally.”

“How?”

“Hmm... perhaps intuition?”

Before anyone noticed, Yutia materialized before her.

Yutia gazed at Rine with a flicker of surprise in her eyes.

“...I was informed you were aligned with the Empire, Yutia.”

“Mm, that’s correct.”

“...Don’t you find it rather pressed for time to journey all this way?”

“Hmm— I suppose it might be?”

Yutia responded without any hesitation.

In response, Rine regarded her with a nuanced expression and continued.

“...You aren’t even making an effort to conceal your power, are you?”

At these words, laden with unspoken implications, Yutia remained silent for a moment, observing Rine—then offered a gentle smile.

“Not even trying?”

“......”

“Perhaps if you were unaware—but you already know, don’t you?”

Rine’s expression became even more intricate.

It was only to be expected.

She had never once disclosed her own transformations to Yutia.

Maintaining that complex expression for a moment, Rine exhaled a quiet sigh.

“To be candid, I did anticipate you might grasp this to some degree.”

“I was aware. I mean— you’re sharp, and your inherent abilities are quite remarkable.”

“I surmised you would be the first to perceive it,” Yutia added in a low murmur.

Rine gracefully stood and moved towards the table where Yutia was seated.

Taking a seat opposite her, Rine proceeded to pour tea into Yutia’s cup.

Yutia silently accepted and drank the tea.

A short period of quietude settled between them.

Rine, who had been watching her intently, finally spoke.

“...Will it be alright?”

“In what regard?”

“The Divine blood Teacher went to handle this situation. Along with Seollang.”

“Hmm—”

Yutia lightly tapped her slender fingers on the tabletop.

However—

“To be perfectly honest, I’m uncertain.”

“...You’re uncertain?”

“Well— it’s not something I have personally ‘endured,’ after all. My capacity to assess is limited. But— truthfully, I don’t believe you need to harbor excessive concern.”

“...Because Seollang is present?”

“Precisely.”

Yutia nodded casually, without much apparent worry.

Witnessing this, a seed of doubt sprouted within Rine.

“...Seollang’s condition appeared unfavorable, even when being generous.”

“Mm— that is true.”

“...Isn’t there a possibility of unforeseen variables emerging?”

“If your perspective leans that way, perhaps. But—”

Yutia paused momentarily, then resumed speaking, her calm smile unwavering.

“Most likely not.”

“...You’re asserting there will be no unforeseen variables whatsoever?”

“Correct.”

“...Why is that?”

Rine expressed her confusion.

Yutia emitted a soft “hmm” and met her gaze.

As if perfectly understanding Rine’s state of mind, a subtly amused smile graced Yutia’s lips.

“Rine.”

“Yes.”

“Do you happen to know Seollang’s generational lineage?”

“...If you are referring to the essence of the Golden Mane Tribe?”

“Indeed.”

“To the best of my knowledge, counting precisely, Seollang is the 27th.”

In response to Rine’s answer, Yutia offered a smile that was difficult to interpret.

“You are mistaken, Rine.”

“...Mistaken?”

“Yes. She is the 28th.”

At this declaration, Rine’s eyes widened slightly.

“...The 28th?”

“Yes.”

“That cannot be correct. She is the 27th. Including her, there have only been twenty-seven users.”

Even as she uttered the words, Rine re-ran the calculation in her mind.

The outcome remained unchanged.

Seollang was the 27th inheritor.

And so, she looked at Yutia, utterly perplexed—

“Even so, she is the 28th. That fact remains immutable.”

Yutia simply reiterated her statement, a tone of amusement coloring her voice.

Rine stood there, lost in contemplation for a brief period—

“...!”

Then, suddenly grasping something, her expression contorted in shock.

But before she could voice her realization—

“And furthermore—”

“……”

“Even if my prognosis proves inaccurate, you are not contemplating passive inaction, are you?”

“……”

“The others are in the same disposition, as well.”

Yutia’s voice preceded her words.

At this statement, Rine fell silent.

And in the wake of that silence, Yutia smiled.

“Naturally, I place my trust in Teacher.”

She murmured quietly, taking another sip of her tea.

####

All the Divine blood fell into stunned silence.

No—to be more precise, they were left with no other option.

What Seollang had just exhibited was more than sufficient to leave everyone present utterly astounded.

But what caused an even greater shock—

“……”

was Seollang’s demeanor.

Even after unleashing that seemingly impossible attack,

her expression remained one of absolute tranquility.

As if she had merely performed a commonplace action.

That very expression served to overwhelm the Divine blood.

[What is this—]

Even the Descended One, for a fleeting instant, was overcome by such composed bearing.

Yet, this moment was ephemeral.

Creak—

Realizing it had experienced such a sensation, its inherent pride fractured, and it balled its fist tightly.

Soon after, it initiated movement.

However, the target of its charge was not Seollang—

[!!]

[It’s approaching—!]

—but rather the gathered Divine blood.

Its intention was to absorb them.

Naturally, the Descended One had not yet engaged Seollang in earnest combat.

Yet, even so, it had already discerned something crucial.

That engaging Seollang at this juncture would invariably lead to an unfavorable outcome.

Consequently, regardless of the toll on its pride, it opted for pragmatic expediency—

It had wanted to absorb even more of the Divine blood, to ascend to Seollang’s level. Or rather—it had intended to. If Seollang hadn’t materialized directly before it.

[!]

A frigid sensation enveloped the Descended One’s entire being. She hadn’t made a move, only appeared, poised to strike with her usual calm. Yet, the Descended One was struck by an immense sense of peril. Seollang's sudden arrival had caught even it off guard, unable to sense her approach. This could only mean one thing: her power had surpassed its own significantly. There was no other logical explanation.

Exhaling, the Descended One—

[?]

suddenly perceived a peculiar anomaly. She had indeed gained the strength to overpower it, wielding a power that seemed unnatural for what it had once deemed a mere tool. Strangely, however, Seollang's command of this power appeared… clumsy.

[!]

The Descended One understood. The tool was still struggling to master its newfound strength. At that realization, it lunged at Seollang, intent on eliminating her before she could fully adapt.

KWA A A—!

In a flash, the Descended One closed the distance, unleashing a punch imbued with a destructive force that rendered even Divine blood 'mundane'. It moved faster than sound’s own trajectory.

Yet, Seollang evaded it with astonishing ease, as if she could foresee the strike with perfect clarity.

CRACK—!

The blow missed, cleaving the ground uselessly. But in that fleeting moment, the Descended One glimpsed a subtle opening. Had she been fully in control of that power, a counterattack would have been immediate. Seollang, however, did not retaliate. This minor observation solidified the Descended One's conviction—

‘She must be eliminated now!’

—and bolstered its resolve.

And yet—

even as the Descended One launched a barrage of attacks, akin to a frenzied beast,

Seollang continued to dodge, offering no counter. It was a completely one-sided onslaught.

But within Seollang, an emotion other than impatience or anxiety began to surface—

‘…Why?’

—it was doubt. The Descended One’s punches seemed slow to her eyes. Strikes aimed solely at ending her life. Not just one… dozens, perhaps hundreds, of fists materialized behind it, surging towards her simultaneously.

Yet, doubt persisted in Seollang’s mind. It wasn't due to her newly acquired power. She already had a grasp of its potential, recognizing its overwhelming nature – capable of obliterating her own body if misused. And she had obtained this power by sacrificing lightning.

What fueled her doubt—

was a peculiar memory. The power Alon had bestowed upon her was not something she should have been able to wield, even clumsily. It was a dangerously potent force, capable of self-destruction if mishandled.

And yet, strangely, she was using it. Not through innate talent or bodily instinct. This was a power that courted her own demise.

The reason she could wield it—

was memory.

Indeed. Memory. For reasons unknown, among the recollections of the past inheritors of the Golden Mane Tribe’s essence,

there were memories of manipulating this precise power. Not merely similar,

but identical in every aspect.

Even as this profound doubt lingered, Seollang’s gaze fixed forward. The Descended One relentlessly pursued, aiming to extinguish her life.

Instinctively, Seollang assumed a stance. And naturally—

the memories of the previous wielder of this power began to shape her posture.

“Rangchang rangchang—”

Her left palm extended towards the Descended One. Her feet firmly planted, grounding her. Her eyes fixed on the opponent.

It was a posture so unconventional, it barely resembled one prepared for offense.

Yet, Seollang didn't question it. Because the stance she adopted was designed by the former user—

to channel this power without causing bodily harm.

And then—

“Short-range force—”

The instant the Descended One entered her immediate vicinity,

Seollang’s fist clenched, striking forward with a minimal motion.

───────────────KWA A A A A A A A—!

The heavens ruptured. Like the parting of the Red Sea, the black clouds were violently ripped asunder.

Through the breach, sunlight, still high in the sky, streamed down.

And that light illuminated the Descended One’s form—

its upper half had vanished as if it had never been, leaving only the lower half remaining.

And then—

only after that—

did the world-shattering thunderous roar finally erupt across the heavens and earth.

Within that cataclysmic sound, a wave of awe surged towards Seollang.

But—

“……”

Seollang paid it no heed.

No—

it was more accurate to say she couldn't. Her attention was captured by a memory.

This had happened before. As she learned the techniques of previous inheritors one by one—

and delved deeper into their intricacies—

their memories became increasingly vivid.

This instance was no different.