Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 322 : Ryanga (4)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
“It’s been a while!”
“Ah! You’ve grown so much!”
“Of course!”
Immediately following his reunion with Ryanga, Alon descended the cliff alongside her.
The instant Penia and Ryanga caught sight of each other, they traded lively greetings.
Afterward.
“Let’s head to the hideout first.”
Tailing Ryanga, Alon reached the Hundred Ghosts’ hideout and found himself pulling a peculiar face upon arrival.
“That’s—”
“How about it, Chief? I etched it with my own hands!”
Alon gazed vacantly at the cliff within the hideout, catching Ryanga’s tone that mixed a touch of shyness with pride.
To be exact, he fixed his eyes on the engraved mural along the cliff face.
The artwork portrayed the rear view of a man whose black coat billowed dramatically in the breeze.
“Wow, you crafted all of that solo?”
“Yeah.”
“…You’ve done an incredible piece.”
A soft gasp of praise escaped Penia’s lips.
Alon, too, gazed at the mural in admiration.
“Ah.”
Sudden realization hit him.
Alon remembered Reinhardt’s words from their initial encounter years back in the Ronovelli Jungle and gave a nod.
Even if it was a tad idealized, the depiction matched him nearly perfectly while unleashing magic.
Naturally, the mural bore a striking likeness to Alon.
He himself conceded that point.
Yet, not every coat-wearing mage in existence was him.
Alon figured it might be a leap to peg it as himself based solely on that, but he shrugged it off shortly and averted his gaze.
After all, it was an old tale from years past, hardly worth fretting over.
With such reasoning, his attention shifted to Ryanga.
“You’ve outdone yourself.”
“Right?! I replicated it spot on!”
“I concur. It’s so precise that recognition is unavoidable.”
Upon hearing Penia’s endorsement, Alon glanced back at the mural, pondering if it truly screamed his identity.
A piece illustrating merely his backside.
It remained an odd sensation, yet after a nod, Alon declared,
“Alright, let’s head inside. Dinner time hasn’t arrived yet, has it? I’ll prepare a meal for you!”
“You can cook too?”
“Of course! I’ve honed my skills!”
As he trailed Ryanga, Alon murmured softly to Penia,
“Penia.”
“Yes, Marquis?”
“Does that mural truly suffice to identify me at a glance?”
In response, Penia swiveled to examine the mural once more, her face etched with confusion.
Merely spotting the black-coated man wouldn’t instantly mark him as Marquis Palatio.
With only the back shown and absent knowledge of Ryanga’s authorship, one might mistake the figure for another.
Still, a single feature demanded attention.
Two pupils.
No matter how hard you tried to ignore them, those twin eyes hovering above the head in the rear depiction were impossible to miss.
Admittedly, Marquis Palatio had recently displayed just one eye.
That sight allowed Penia to identify him right away.
All the same, spotting those eyes left no doubt—it had to be Marquis Palatio.
“Uh… anyone who’s witnessed you wield magic a single time would peg it as you.”
Penia responded.
“…Really?”
“Yes.”
Alon gave a gradual nod, an odd surge of pride washing over him.
Though he kept his exterior composed, the back silhouette Ryanga had sculpted struck him as remarkably striking.
Entertaining that whimsical notion, Alon pursued Ryanga’s lead.
***
Merely days prior, Ganma—one of the unfortunate Hundred Ghosts enduring constant thrashings disguised as training from the dour Ryanga—now grappled with a crumbling grip on reality.
Ganma observed from a distance as Ryanga clung tightly to that human male—actually, he’d heard the tale so often he’d committed the name to memory—Marquis Palatio.
From afar, her beaming smile radiated pure innocence, instantly identifiable.
Ganma scanned the surroundings to gauge the other members’ responses.
Some wore stunned looks.
Others stared in dazed silence.
A few grimaced as if on the verge of retching.
All eyes were fixed on Ryanga.
It stood to reason.
Centuries had passed with Ryanga at their side.
They prided themselves on knowing her intimately, certain of her true nature.
Yet.
Every Hundred Ghosts member simultaneously summoned Ryanga’s ingrained persona.
The sole vision in their thoughts was her ferocious demeanor.
Her standard approach to all matters.
Be it rank or quarrels, she settled them through brute force.
Beyond that, her routine largely involved lounging atop the cliff through the daylight hours.
Thus, for the Hundred Ghosts crew, Ryanga’s present demeanor shattered all expectations in a jaw-dropping way.
“Does this even make sense?”
“Boss can actually smile like a woman?”
“Can you believe it? She’s even linking arms with the Marquis.”
“Ugh—”
“She’s sitting right in front of that human man?”
“She’s acting cute.”
“I feel sick.”
Ryanga’s uncharacteristic flirtiness, a side she’d never revealed before, overwhelmed the Hundred Ghosts members, leaving them all aghast, faces twisted in silent cries of “What the heck?!”
Yet.
In a brief instant.
The White Ghost, reclined against Marquis Palatio’s casually crossed leg, whipped around to shoot a piercing glare at the group.
Simultaneously, recognition dawned on them all.
The form of her lips.
‘You. Will. Die.’
She lip-synced the words with crystal clarity for every concealed watcher to decipher, sending shivers through the members who promptly spun away and vanished from her view.
***
The following day.
“You’re awake!”
“You’re awake!”
“…Uh, yeah…”
Alon stirred to an over-the-top welcome from the Hundred Ghosts right upon waking, leaving him bewildered, but moments later, he encountered the revitalized Ryanga.
“Did you rest well, Chief?”
“Yes, thanks to you, I slept soundly.”
“That’s great— If you’re comfortable sleeping here, you could linger a while longer.”
Ryanga tacked on hastily.
However, Alon declined with a head shake.
“Sadly, that won’t work at the moment.”
“Really? Alright then—”
Her words rang hollow as Ryanga’s lips formed a subtle pout, betraying her letdown.
Catching that, Alon grinned faintly and reassured her,
“Don’t look so down. I’m tied up now, but I’ll drop by again before long.”
“…Really?”
“Yes. Or you could come see me instead.”
“Okay… I’ll remember that.”
Ryanga beamed with delight and pressed on, seemingly content.
“So, what’s next for you?”
“Hmm, I’ll likely remain in the jungle for another week or so.”
“A week?”
“Yes, I’m on the hunt for something specific.”
“What’s that?”
After a brief pause, Alon responded measuredly.
“I’m after the Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead.”
“The Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead?”
“Yes, it’s a relic tucked in a ruin somewhere in this jungle. I require it.”
“Hmm~”
Ryanga acknowledged Alon’s explanation with a nod and inquired further.
“Whereabouts?”
“…Likely amid the clustered ruins.”
“Do you know the spot?”
“More or less.”
“Can you point it out?”
Though momentarily thrown, Alon unfurled an explorer’s map and indicated the approximate area.
Then—
“Hmm~”
Ryanga rubbed her chin, nodded in apparent comprehension, and declared,
“Stay put!”
“Wait, hold on—”
Before Alon could halt her, she rocketed away with a thunderous boom.
Hand outstretched in vain, Alon froze in an awkward stance.
Beside him, Penia, who’d observed everything, at last commented.
“Marquis, it appears Ryanga has gone to fetch it.”
“Indeed… As you mentioned, she’ll face some real challenges.”
Alon concurred with a nod.
This time’s target, the “Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead,” was a treasure extractable only after unraveling multiple enigmas within the ruins.
Put differently, without the riddle solutions, acquisition was impossible.
Thus.
“…Shall we hold out?”
“Um… She’s likely wrestling with it now, so perhaps we ought to lend a hand?”
“In that case, best to gear up for departure immediately.”
Gazing toward Ryanga’s takeoff path, they lingered roughly an hour, and just as Alon began readying to advance—
Thud!
Ryanga crashed back with a resounding impact.
“…I’m back!”
“Ryanga?”
She called out with vigor.
As Alon peered at her in bewilderment, Ryanga proclaimed assuredly,
“Here! Check this out!”
With that, she passed the mask to Alon.
The Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead.
In that instant, Alon and Penia both gawked mutely at the mask she held.
“Huh? Isn’t this it?”
Her naive query jolted Alon from his trance, prompting his reply.
“No, this is exactly it. Thank you.”
“Aww, no need— between us—”
Ignoring the sweetly grinning Ryanga, Alon scrutinized the mask once more, his face a mask of incredulity.
The artifact she’d procured was indisputably the Mask of the One Who Walks Ahead.
The very one demanding riddle resolutions for access.
Still grappling with disbelief, Alon inspected the mask repeatedly and queried in a stupor,
“But… how on earth did you obtain this?”
“Huh? This?”
“Yes, from what I understand, it requires solving tough puzzles…”
Alon’s astounded query gave Ryanga a momentary pause as she pondered.
“Ah~ was that the deal?”
She murmured, as if recollection struck.
“I just busted it open and grabbed it.”
Her reply came as brightly as before.
“You… forced it?”
“Yeah. It simply cracked apart, nothing more.”
Absorbing her candid, unhesitant explanation, Alon envisioned the ruins known to him only through drawings.
The entrance, noted as dozens of centimeters thick—better termed several meters in solidity.
Moreover, it boasted extra fortification against physical assault, layered with scores of protective magic arrays.
That realization left Alon, staring wide-eyed at Ryanga, musing inwardly.
“…Is this the essence of ‘A mighty body lets the mind take it easy’?”