Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 328 : In the Name of Sloth (1)

In the eastern desert of the Colony.

A short distance away from Ashtalon.

"Hoo—"

Eliban gazed blankly toward the Milky Way shining in the dark sky.

He remained utterly motionless, without the slightest shift.

How much time had slipped by in that pose?

"What’s keeping you, Eliban?"

Yan settled beside him, and at last, Eliban shifted his gaze.

"Just gazing at the stars."

"You seem to have a real fondness for the night sky, huh?"

"Is that how it comes across?"

"You dedicate several nights weekly to sitting by yourself and staring like this, don’t you?"

After Yan’s remark, Eliban fixed his eyes on the Milky Way in silence before replying.

"Does it appear as if I relish it?"

"Uh— don’t you?"

"Truth be told, I don’t particularly care for it."

Yan’s eyes widened in astonishment at his words.

"So why do you keep staring at it so often?"

He offered no response to Yan’s query.

Instead, he steered the conversation elsewhere.

"What about the rest of the group?"

"They’re winding down for the night. Dinner’s already wrapped up for everyone."

"Is that so?"

Eliban’s pivot was obvious and direct.

Yet Yan merely gave a casual shrug.

This wasn’t the initial instance of Eliban dodging like that, so he’d grown accustomed.

Matching Eliban’s cue, Yan lifted his gaze to the heavens quietly, then ventured a question gradually.

"Oh, Eliban."

"Yeah?"

"Regarding Marquis Palatio. You sure it’s fine?"

"Out of nowhere?"

Eliban responded with evident bewilderment.

Yan gave a firm nod.

"Lately, chatter about Marquis Palatio has been everywhere, you know? Stuff like him abruptly claiming his own lands and such."

"…Oh, the whispers of starting a fresh kingdom?"

"Exactly. The buzz stays mostly favorable for now, but should he claim the throne, it’s bound to spark rivers of blood."

Yan’s observation rang true as ever.

Any newcomer rising to power demanded piles of bodies and rivers of blood—history bore witness time and again.

"And?"

"I get that you admire the Marquis, but doesn’t this clash with the ‘peace’ you hold dear?"

"Clash with ‘peace’… hmm."

Eliban pondered intensely for an instant.

"No."

"…Huh?"

"Actually, I see it as a positive step."

He stated it straightforwardly.

Yan opened his mouth to probe further, but Eliban pressed on without pause.

"Are you thinking I say this out of fondness for Marquis Palatio?"

"…To be frank, yeah."

Yan paused briefly yet affirmed with a nod.

Still, Eliban offered a faint smile and countered.

"No."

"…No?"

"Sure, I do favor the Marquis. But beyond mere liking… it fits right into my objectives."

"The Marquis taking the crown… fits your objectives?"

Yan echoed in clear confusion.

He was aware.

Of how Eliban harbored an oddly intense regard for Marquis Palatio.

Yet on matters of his ‘peace’ pursuit, Eliban stood firm, almost ruthlessly so.

Even for Marquis Palatio, no one would expect Eliban to yield.

His devotion to ‘peace’ remained steadfast and exacting.

From certain angles, it bordered on outright arrogance.

So rigid it almost felt devoid of humanity.

That shock hit Yan hard.

For he sensed Eliban’s words carried genuine weight.

"Well, I wouldn’t expect you to get it yet."

Noting Yan’s stunned look, Eliban grinned softly and rose to his feet unhurriedly.

Then he added.

"But you’ll grasp it before long. My true intent."

He voiced something elusive and profound.

Declaring he’d retire for the night, he made his way to the camp.

Yan observed Eliban’s retreating figure in quiet contemplation for some time.

***

Over a week and several days had elapsed since Alon’s arrival at the Magic Tower.

In that span, Alon had acquired plenty.

If pressed to name two major gains.

One involved picking up from Heinkel a quicker way to decipher layered spells, unlike his prior pace.

The other was—

[Well?]

—finishing the breakdown of "Magic Bolt," a basic 1st-tier spell.

"Wow—"

"You cracked it in merely a week."

Penia voiced her awe, while Alon nodded along as Heinkel simply shrugged it off.

[Well, calling it "a week" might mislead. You both had already progressed far, and I merely organized and wrapped it up.]

Heinkel replied modestly.

Of course, her humility was just in words—her demeanor screamed, "Ahem, only I could pull this off."

[Plus, it’s not entirely done, is it? The sigils remain to be located.]

"Even then, the speed was impressive."

Heinkel had a point.

She’d joined only after Alon and Penia unearthed the bulk of the incantations.

Yet piecing those into coherent structure demanded far greater challenge.

Left to just Alon and Penia, it would’ve dragged on for one or two months at least, not a single week.

[Hmm, no need to flatter me excessively. This round sped up thanks to my fresh technique. The 2nd-tier ones will demand much more time.]

Evan, observing from nearby, chimed in.

"So, Marquis. Planning another show this time?"

"Show?"

"Yeah."

Alon inclined his head.

"Without the sigils in place, a trial run seems worthwhile. But what prompts the question?"

Evan rubbed his head sheepishly at that.

"Well, last time with ‘Light’ magic, things went wild, didn’t they?"

"They did?"

"Now… I’m just eager to see what emerges."

"I was a tad curious myself."

Alon agreed with Evan’s follow-up.

Until all incantations and structures were set, testing the spell proved impossible, fueling his own intrigue.

[Then why not try it immediately? I’m eager as well.]

"A spell test?"

"I’d love to witness it too~"

At Heinkel’s suggestion, Celaime and Sharan instantly brightened.

Moments earlier, they’d resembled weary undead, endlessly jotting notes on parchment, but now vitality surged through them.

Merely a week in, and they’d strayed so far from their poised tower lord personas.

They evoked the exhausted grad students Alon recalled trudging across university grounds, leaving him briefly at a loss for words.

"Let’s head out then."

He brushed off his clothes and got to his feet.

"To the testing chamber?"

"Better to try it outdoors."

"Oh, yeah—the chamber’s still being rebuilt."

"It’s not solely the rebuild... you get what happens if we wreck it once more."

Penia paused briefly before adding.

"Truthfully? They’d probably welcome a fresh spell even if it means demolition."

"...For real?"

"Absolutely."

"Yeah, whenever I drop by the intel guild, folks grill me on it daily."

Noting Evan’s shudder of distaste at the memory, Alon proceeded to enact the Magic Bolt.

***

In the northern reaches of the Kingdom of Ashtalon.

"What... in the world—"

Filian Merkiliane, dispatched north by King Shtalian V to evaluate the crisis, along with his knights, gaped in stunned silence at the widespread ruin unfolding across the fields.

No—could this wasteland even pass for a field now?

Filian Merkiliane froze in place, his stare locked unyieldingly.

The initial sight that struck him was the scorched, ebony earth.

Upon that shadowed soil, vibrant foliage had morphed into a blood-soaked expanse.

All around lay crumbled barriers and domains stained crimson, reduced to utter desolation.

Next, his vision snagged on another horror.

Squelch—squelch—squelch—

Humans.

Squelch—

Squelch—squelch—

Squelch—

A dull rhythm resounded in their hearing.

It was merely the noise of repeated piercing, stripped of all feeling.

The knights—and Filian Merkiliane.

They recognized the origin of that noise.

Impossible not to.

The cause loomed directly in view.

A male and a female appeared before them.

A pair both adorned with identical bands on their ring fingers.

The male drove a blunt edge into the female’s already ravaged midsection.

Squelch—

Squelch—squelch—

Squelch—

His ceaseless thrusts betrayed no sentiment.

As though fulfilling an inevitable task, he persisted without variance.

Yet oddly, crimson tears streamed from the man’s vacant gaze.

Meanwhile, the female enduring the stabs without fight—

Crunch—crack—

—gnawed and ripped at the man’s throat using her teeth.

Like him, bloody tears trailed down as she mechanically devoured and expelled his tissue.

That wasn’t the extent.

In one spot, a youth carved into an elder’s spine.

In another, troops blankly thrust at knights’ necks.

Further off, a youth munched on a maiden’s skull.

It defied reason.

Utterly grotesque—

Filian struggled to register the spectacle.

The knights fared no better.

Their sight fed stark details to their minds, yet comprehension faltered.

Curiously, it evoked a nightmarish haze.

Despite the vista mirroring infernal torment.

Filian pondered the cause.

And realization dawned swiftly.

"No noise."

Indeed—no anticipated clamor filled the air.

No agonized wails of conflict.

No ring of steel.

No cries from throats.

Silence.

Only the rip of meat persisted here.

This otherworldly display robbed the knights of any grounding in truth.

At the instant collective awareness struck—

"Uwaaagh!!"

One crumpled with a piercing yell and retched on the spot.

Terror flooded every knight’s gaze in unison.

Amid the turmoil, Filian uttered calmly.

"Second-in-command."

His complexion had drained to pallor, nausea evident.

But the second-in-command steadied himself to nod and reply.

"Is this the spot?"

"Yes. Trimane."

Trimane.

Count Harvest’s domain, famed as the kingdom’s "gold mine holding." A sprawling realm teeming with lives.

"Ha—"

Filian exhaled a bitter chuckle upon the briefing.

"From the sites His Majesty tasked us with to this one, how many settlements and domains total?"

"Eight hamlets and one domain."

"So these as well—"

The second-in-command held his silence.

He merely affirmed wordlessly.

Filian dropped his stare.

Even then, like dusk swallowing daylight, the dark blight crept onward steadily.

As he observed, the king’s directive resurfaced.

"Filian Merkiliane, with three key envoys vanished, uncover the facts. Proceed discreetly, no word to others."

A direct mandate.

But recalling this near-hopeless directive—

"Second-in-command."

"Yes."

"Return to His Majesty at once and relay this horror. The others, follow me to alert adjacent hamlets and domains."

"Understood."

"And convey to His Majesty jointly."

After brief reflection, Filian resolved.

"Concealment ends here."

With that, he spurred into swift action.

Meantime, the shadowy blight kept devouring land without cease.

Endlessly so.

***

"...Madness."

Evan let the word escape unwittingly, then hastily clamped his hand over his lips.

Such slips might occur privately with Alon or Penia, but not in this company.

"Insane—"

"Utterly beyond belief."

But as if to soothe Evan’s unease, Celaime and Sharan—who’d seemed captivated earlier—now cried out in dismay.

"This... counts as Magic Bolt?"

Even Alon, the caster, displayed rare astonishment, his features alive with feeling.

[...Last time shocked me too, but this defies expectation.]

At length, Heinkel, who’d stared in a daze, whispered.

[Without the sigil, correct?]

"Correct."

[So, perhaps a sigil for channeling or gathering power exists?]

Heinkel queried eagerly, inspiration flashing.

After some exchange on the matter, Alon concluded.

"...Come morning, I’ll test along those lines."

[Not immediately?]

"I’d prefer to, yet my mana reserves—"

[Ah—]

Heinkel nodded in comprehension.

"Is that truly Magic Bolt?"

"Hard to accept, yet it is."

"But it felt worlds apart. This instance, the might seemed to vary wildly with mana input~"

"I never foresaw such adaptability."

"Same here."

"I wonder the extent if you funneled every drop of mana. Just how devastating?"

Sharan, Celaime, and Penia voiced their musings while descending the tower.

Upon reaching the ground level—

"...?"

Alon detected an odd shift.

Prior to ascending, the tower buzzed with activity, but now a grim pallor hung heavy.

Alon scanned the area, noting the mages’ expressions.

They appeared dazed, grave, or creased with brows in evident bewilderment.

"Hey—"

"Ah, Tower Master—"

"What’s the matter?"

As Celaime inquired, attuned to the mages’ strain—

"Word came from the Violet Tower. Disaster’s struck in Ashtalon."

A mage, clutching his temples, at last responded.

"...Disaster? What kind?"

"Heard the tales of Ashtalon?"

"About beasts turning on one another?"

"Yes. Lately, in Ashtalon’s north—"

The mage relayed the details to Alon’s party without reserve.

"A dark zone inducing frenzy spreads relentlessly over the terrain."

Once the full account ended—

"A dark zone?"

Alon reiterated.

"Yes, precisely. A once-hidden blight now engulfs the realm."

Alon swiftly assessed the gravity in Ashtalon.

Based on his knowledge, at minimum—

"...The Sin of Sloth."

—this marked its emergence.

"Thus, a call for aid has gone to the full Allied Kingdom, Tower included."

The mage articulated haltingly, forcing out the words.

"Looks like... tomorrow’s spell trial gets delayed."

Alon found himself compelled to rush to Ashtalon without delay.