Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 309 : Raksas (5)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
“What is the meaning of this?”
Alon’s brow furrowed, his confusion evident as he sought clarification on what he had just heard.
The predecessor repeated her statement calmly.
[It is exactly as I described. However, are you familiar with the Elves’ curse?]
“I am.”
The curse of the Elves was a well-known tragedy.
A powerful spell unleashed by the True Mage aligned with the dark forces—the one referred to as the "Closed-Eyed One"—had stripped the Elves of their longevity, reducing their natural lifespans to a mere quarter of their original length.
When Alon recounted these details—
[Precisely. Just as the Elves suffered a shortened existence because of the Closed-Eyed One, the True Mages were also subjected to a curse—though, calling it a 'curse' perhaps fails to describe the magnitude. I wonder what term fits best...]
The predecessor paused, searching for the right word.
[Yes, this is more fitting. Let us refer to it as 'erasure.']
She spoke the word with heavy significance.
“...Erasure?”
[Indeed. The dark ones, led by the Closed-Eyed One, deleted the True Mages. They did not just end their lives; they scrubbed the very concept of their existence from the fabric of the world until nothing remained.]
“...For what reason?”
[Did you not claim to understand the Elves’ curse?]
“How are the two things connected?”
The predecessor looked momentarily puzzled before a soft “Ah” escaped her lips, and she resumed her explanation.
[I see. You are aware that the Elves were cursed, but you do not understand the motivation behind it.]
“Will you explain the reason to me?”
[It is a simple matter, hardly complex at all. They were a threat to the Sins. That is the entirety of it.]
“A threat...?”
[Yes.]
The Observer gave a few slow nods before continuing her tale.
[The True Mages represented a danger to the Sins. Even though every last one of them perished, the Sins ultimately failed to achieve their objective. Consequently, the Closed-Eyed One wiped the True Mages from existence.]
It was done so that the entity known as a True Mage could never interfere with the Sins again.
It was a move to ensure that the wheels of fate turned exactly as intended.
As the predecessor spoke in a low murmur, Alon pressed further.
“Then the Elves as well—”
[The logic is identical. Their vast lifespans meant they had the potential to produce an individual capable of halting the Sins. That is why the curse was placed upon them. It was to ensure that nothing could challenge the absolute inevitability of their plans.]
Alon fell into a thoughtful silence.
He found the entire situation incomprehensible.
“...Why?”
[What specifically are you questioning?]
“Why is the Closed-Eyed One so obsessed with the destruction of the world?”
Alon was plagued by numerous mysteries.
Why did the creator of the Sins treat him with such favor? How could magic that was supposedly erased by the Closed-Eyed One still be found in this world?
But the most baffling question of all remained—
What was the purpose behind creating the Sins? Why seek the world's end?
He searched for answers, but the predecessor merely watched him.
She remained silent and composed.
"...?"
In that stillness, Alon picked up on a strange detail.
Initially, Alon assumed the predecessor was looking straight into his eyes.
But he was mistaken.
As Alon studied her face, he confirmed his suspicion: her line of sight was slightly off-center, missing him entirely.
Then, she suddenly spoke—
[May I pose a question to you?]
“Go ahead.”
[What is the extent of your knowledge?]
“...The extent?”
[Yes. Quite literally—what do you know of this world? Do not worry about the length; tell me everything you understand.]
Though confused by the sudden shift, Alon began to recount his knowledge step by step.
“That is the sum of what I know.”
Once he concluded, the predecessor maintained a thoughtful expression for a moment before speaking—
[I understand your curiosity. However, the answers you seek cannot be given by me.]
“...And why is that?”
She offered her final verdict.
[Because your eyes and ears are currently incapable of perceiving the truth.]
***
Shortly after Alon and Radan departed from the Observer’s domain—
Alon found himself staring vacantly at the sun suspended in the sky.
“Brother?”
“Yes?”
“You’ve been in a daze like that since the moment we stepped out of the cave.”
“...Is that so?”
“It is.”
Prompted by Radan’s observation, Alon shook off his lethargy, though his mind quickly returned to the puzzle.
—Your perception of the truth is veiled. No matter who you consult, the truth will remain out of reach.
Reflecting on those words from the predecessor Observer, Alon realized something—
She hadn't identified who was responsible for that 'veil.'
Or perhaps, she simply lacked the ability to do so.
Even so, this revelation didn't cause Alon to panic; it only deepened his intrigue.
There were two reasons for his relative calm.
First, even with the knowledge that his senses were being manipulated, Alon's objective had not shifted.
His ultimate mission was still to thwart the Sins.
That purpose remained his north star.
Second—her parting advice.
—Collect the artifacts and seek out that being. That entity will possess the power to lift the hand that blinds you.
That was her instruction.
If he gathered the necessary items and made contact with that being, the truth would finally be revealed.
Essentially, Alon’s path forward remained exactly the same as before.
While he was certainly curious about who was hiding the truth and for what purpose, he resolved to be patient.
Having organized his thoughts, Alon turned his attention to Radan.
Radan looked equally troubled.
“Is something on your mind?”
“Oh.”
Radan blinked, letting out a startled noise as he snapped back to reality.
“Hmm—not really. It isn't anything major.”
He gave his head a scratch and offered a sheepish grin.
Alon gave a short nod of acknowledgment, and with that—
“In that case, let’s head back.”
They turned away from the eastern shore and made their way back to Radan’s vessel, leaving the mysteries for another day.
***
“Is that... actually the truth?”
"I'm telling you, it's the 100% truth! Why do you keep doubting me?"
Beran had recently endured a month of relentless dungeon grinding. Upon reuniting with his friend Cop, he was bombarded with the same boasts Karam—who had joined Marquis Palatio's ranks—had been making.
“So, those rumors weren't just talk?”
“Exactly, the whole place is in an uproar over it.”
The catalyst was the specific rumor Cop was now sharing.
“You’re saying Karam wasn’t just full of hot air?”
“He wasn't. Word is, if you perform acts of justice and provide the proof, you’re allowed to train in that territory and tap into Kalannon’s power.”
Ironically, Beran and Cop were the ones who had started that rumor in the first place.
However, the tale had evolved and grown far beyond its original scope.
“Hoooh~”
A wide grin spread across Beran’s face as he stood up abruptly.
“Where are you headed?”
“To the same place as everyone else. I need to get a piece of this action.”
“Wait, hold on a second—”
Ignoring Cop’s attempt to stop him, Beran sprinted out the door, heading straight for the Mercenary Guild.
His target was a bandit suppression mission.
Beran was well aware that bandits were a dime a dozen lately, but he wanted an official contract for the rewards and the precise coordinates.
If he was going to hunt, he might as well get paid and avoid wandering aimlessly through the woods.
Filled with anticipation, Beran charged into the Mercenary Guild hall.
“?”
He stopped dead in front of the request board, looking utterly bewildered.
The massive board was wide enough to fit ten men across, and even the tall Beran had to strain to reach the top edge.
But there was a glaring problem—
Only a month ago, the board had been covered in bandit-related jobs. Now, it was completely bare. Not a single slip of paper remained.
After scanning the empty wood one more time, Beran approached the receptionist.
“Uh, excuse me?”
“Oh, hello Beran.”
The receptionist looked visibly exhausted as she greeted him.
“Um, why is the board so empty? Is it a scheduled cleaning day or something?”
“Cleaning? Since when do we ever clean the board?”
“Well, then why is it totally blank...?”
“Wait, are you serious? You haven't heard?”
“Heard what?”
“About Marquis Palatio.”
“...No way. You mean people are actually being allowed into his lands?”
“That’s the one. That is why every single bandit request has been snatched up.”
“...For real?”
“Yup.”
The receptionist nodded tiredly, then gestured toward a staff member nearby.
“Look, there’s a new one coming in now. Looks like another bandit job.”
Beran’s eyes lit up as he watched the worker pin a fresh notice to the board.
He began to move toward it, his heart racing.
But the moment the paper touched the wood—
BAM!!
“IT'S MINE! I SAW IT FIRST!!”
A dwarf appeared out of thin air, lunging for the paper.
His victory was short-lived.
“Gahh~!”
“Back off!”
A human mercenary delivered a swift kick to the dwarf’s jaw and intercepted the request.
“Move! Get out of the way!”
A wolf beastkin joined the fray, claws outstretched for the prize.
“What is happening!?”
“Is that a bandit job!?”
“Out of my way, damn it!!!”
A flood of mercenaries poured into the guild, turning the lobby into a chaotic battlefield in seconds.
“Haa…”
“...What is this madness?”
Beran stood frozen as the receptionist let out a long, weary sigh.
Only then did he start to notice the bizarre scenes unfolding around him.
“Please! I’m begging you, let me join your party!”
“Are you kidding? A weakling like you thinks he can handle ‘bandits’??”
High-ranking A-grade mercenaries were literally begging for scraps, desperate for bandit jobs that B-rankers usually handled alone.
“Listen, I’ve got some top-tier Intel.”
“What? You found a hidden bandit camp?”
“Exactly.”
“Where? Give me the location!”
“It’s right near the border zone.”
“No way... that’s a month-long journey from here! Well, let’s go—we leave immediately!”
Groups of hardened warriors were cheering with the excitement of children over a job that was weeks away and likely to be finished by the time they arrived.
And it got even more ridiculous—
“Hey, I’ve got a lead too!”
“Spit it out!”
“I found a group of bandits!”
“Really!?”
“Well, it’s a village that looks like it's about to turn into a bandit den—”
“You moron, that’s just a poor farming village!! Do you want the gods to strike you down for faking a quest for justice!?”
The sheer absurdity of the situation left Beran speechless.
“Attention! Bandits have been sighted in the northern forest!”
A loud shout echoed from the street outside.
“Oh man! Clear out! I’m taking that one!”
“Me too! Wait for me~!”
“That request is mine!”
“GET OUT OF MY WAAAAAY!!!”
Without even stopping to verify the claim, the mercenaries abandoned their fights and bolted out the door.
The guild, which had been packed with people moments ago, was deserted in an instant.
In the center of the silence stood Beran, unable to move.
In just one month, the entire vibe of Lartania had been turned upside down.
“...This is actually terrifying.”
A cold sense of dread began to crawl up his spine.