Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 332 : In the name of Sloth (5)
Previously on Became the Patron of Villains...
Kingdom of Fildagreen.
“Hoo—”
Lately, Rine Groff had immersed herself deeply in the study of sin.
If things had stayed as they began, it might have turned into a pleasant tea session filled with the chase of wisdom—or rather, just extra moments to watch over her godfather.
Yet, to her misfortune—
A person had shattered the emblem bestowed upon her godfather, which lightened her duties considerably.
Because of this, Rine had devoted a large portion of her days to investigation recently.
Even with centuries behind her, immense amounts of wisdom remained beyond her full understanding or reach.
And on this day—
For the very first time, she uncovered substantial details regarding sin.
Naturally, it didn't expose the core essence of sin.
Still, in certain respects, it shed light on the reason the prior form of sin was handled with such ease.
She was already aware of the existence of sin's apostles and how they handpicked the container for sin's rebirth.
Until now, she had assumed they merely selected an individual who harmonized effectively with sin.
The idea that the host's capabilities would shift based on the chosen one had escaped her notice.
For some time, she revisited the information she had encountered.
The deeper she went, the more inquiries popped up.
The texts plainly stated that sin's might fluctuated wildly according to the incarnated vessel—yet details beyond that were absent.
Inevitably, a query formed in her thoughts.
Since she hadn't scoured every document yet, the precise cause stayed hidden.
Likely, the volume she had just discovered didn't hold the answer either.
After pondering her uncertainties for a bit, Rine chose to concentrate on the present tome and shut her eyes once more.
Suddenly, as though the library's vista sprang to life in her thoughts, she mentally turned the pages of the book she was perusing.
Soon enough, after mentally completing the entire read—
“……”
Her eyes fluttered open again, her face somewhat rigid.
True to expectations, no resolution to her puzzle emerged.
Nevertheless, she reaffirmed the stark variance in sin's strength when it took form in a mighty host.
Gazing at her now-tepid tea, she sank back into contemplation to unravel her mystery.
***
The clash ignited.
Three formidable entities surged toward Alon in the heavens—
BOOOOM—!
Yet their path was completely obstructed.
Thus, the confrontation involving Seolrang, Radan, and Eliban, who dashed in to halt and dispatch them, erupted.
The scene was utterly dominant.
Before Alon's view, golden bursts danced as Seolrang's form flickered in and out of sight.
Without Reverse Heaven active, even that split-second glimpse would have eluded him.
Seolrang, executing those maneuvers over and over, was essentially playing with Dragon Lance.
With a heavy slam, the lance struck the earth and the cliff face.
In a flash, it hovered suspended in the air once more.
The very next beat, it plunged down with force enough to pulverize the whole Black Territory.
The foe's form shattered and reformed time and again.
Yet evidently, the recovery pace was decelerating, hinting at nearing exhaustion.
Hidden Swordsman faced a similar fate.
Myriad artifacts plummeted from above.
Not just confined in motion, but multiple artifacts lodged in its rear, impossible to dislodge.
Hidden Swordsman struggled to retaliate against Radan effectively.
And regarding Millennium Ice—
CRACK!
He offered no resistance whatsoever.
Whenever Millennium Ice attempted any action, Eliban's blade struck—
And instantly, his appendages were cleaved away.
Millennium Ice hastily regrew his limbs in a bid to counter, but Eliban's sword remained inescapable.
A vast gap in prowess.
Alon, having descended from the vessel after finalizing the strategy's setup, cocked his head while observing Eliban.
Even supposing Eliban was at peak level from the game—
He hadn't anticipated such dominance over a Sin with boundless mana.
Ultimately, though, Eliban's present might was the sole factor maintaining the equilibrium.
“Hoo—”
Alon clutched his forehead, reeling from the constant Reverse Heaven strain.
He compelled his eyes open and surveyed the surroundings.
The strife raging across the Black Territory resembled an all-out conflict.
Basiliora smashed and eradicated the ceaselessly reviving dark entities.
The troops mercilessly cut down the flesh heaps swarming the fortress barriers and nearby areas.
Ideal equilibrium.
The instant that notion crossed Alon's mind—
Snap—!
All motion ceased abruptly.
The mighty beings in mid-stride froze as if deceived.
The meaty swarms lunging at the warriors dropped like marionettes with severed cords.
THUD THUD THUD—
The squirming masses attempting revival under the now-unarmored Basiliora dispersed without vitality.
And replacing them—
It materialized.
“Ah—”
A subdued utterance.
A gentle, barely audible sigh.
Even so, it pulled every onlooker's attention to one spot.
At an unspecified moment—
A solitary figure had emerged within the Black Territory.
No—he wasn't of human stock.
His frame was undoubtedly humanoid.
But all those present sensed it clearly.
That was no human.
“Hmm—”
White locks.
More boyish than mature, he stared ahead with vacant eyes.
Each orb held two pupils drifting unnervingly inside.
Enveloped in darkness as deep as the Black Territory, he blankly scanned the area.
All those around—
Could discern his sentiment.
He seemed disinterested.
He appeared listless.
He looked fatigued.
He seemed fidgety.
He appeared sleepy, and he—
Simply embodied laziness.
And steadily, as his stare gradually roamed—
It halted at last.
On Alon.
The four peculiarly marked pupils fixed on Alon.
And Alon likewise regarded the Sloth, perplexed.
Alon recognized the Sin of Sloth.
In essence, he knew its embodied form.
Apart from the white hair, it matched his recollection perfectly.
But the baffling part for Alon was the demeanor.
The Sin of Sloth from his knowledge brimmed with fury—so intensely that "Sloth" scarcely suited it.
However, this entity differed entirely.
It perfectly captured the essence of its titled name.
It emitted no aura of threat.
It merely observed him, lacking any purpose.
Faced with that odd mismatch, Alon's bewilderment deepened.
Thud—
Sloth settled down.
Legs folded, chin propped on one upraised knee, eyes locked on Alon.
A stance revealing zero intent for combat.
Yet no one there could stir before Sloth's presence.
No—they weren't merely pausing.
“Guh—”
“Ggk—”
Gradually, individuals started gasping, as though air eluded them.
Sloth had undertaken nothing at all.
He released no mana, nor projected any oppressive force.
He just seated himself there, displaying no battle eagerness.
Still, the mere weight of his being sufficed to topple distant watching soldiers outright.
Soldiers collapsed one after another.
A shiver crept along Celaime and Parkline's backs.
Seolrang, Radan, and Eliban's faces darkened further.
But amid it all, he simply eyed Alon with bored indifference.
“You guys plan on fighting, don’t you?”
He parted his lips unhurriedly.
Unlike prior sin embodiments, this bid for logical exchange left Alon stunned for a second.
After a short reflection, Alon replied.
“...Yeah.”
“There’s no way to avoid fighting, is there?”
“Weren’t you the one who started the fight?”
Upon hearing that, the Sin of Sloth regarded Alon briefly.
“Because I want to protect it.”
He whispered, a trace of sorrow in his lazy gaze.
“What...?”
Alon instinctively queried.
It made no sense.
Why had this entity, bearing such traits, shown up in his path?
Why utter words like those?
At minimum, the Sloth Alon recalled was solely a merciless slayer of any humans in sight.
But Sloth offered no further response to Alon's automatic query.
Instead—
Remaining seated, Sloth exhaled softly, glanced at him briefly, and stated,
“One minute.”
Just so—
“For the next one minute, I won’t move from here.”
He drawled indolently.
“What did you say?”
“No matter what kind of attack you launch, I’ll take it all. So that you’ll be convinced.”
So you won’t feel any regret about dying to me.
So you won’t resent it.
Murmuring thus, Sloth added,
“All right, begin.”
He uttered softly.
Following a terse hush, the initial mover was—
BOOOOOM!!
Seolrang.
Grinning openly, she rushed forward, materializing before Sloth swifter than perception allowed—
CRACKLEEEE—!!!
Shrinking her frame to its utmost limit directly in Sloth's face—
—!!!!
She propelled the Sin upward.
Air exploding, Sloth's form rocketed skyward.
Simultaneously, Eliban and Radan, who had stared in daze until then, sprang into action.
They weren't alone.
“I guess we’d better prepare.”
“Everyone, get ready.”
Celaime, Parkline, and the mages, who had observed silently, now unleashed their incantations as if anticipating this instant.
50 seconds.
Sloth's frame, hurled aloft by Seolrang—
Got carved by Eliban's edge and pounded into the soil.
Then Radan's massive blade hammered down upon it.
Crimson sprayed from Sloth's lips.
And right then—
Though it spanned merely a passing instant—
Alon caught sight of it.
On Sloth's countenance, previously etched with mere tedium—
A subtle grin—
...A subtle spark of optimism flickered.
40 seconds.
“Crack-crack—”
Thunder amassed around Seolrang as she hovered in the air.
Golden bolts connected ground and heavens.
—!!!!
Bolts streaked earthward, dazzling all eyes.
Right away, Radan's blade descended from above, tearing the atmosphere and crashing below.
30 seconds.
Mages' spells poured onto the debris-shrouded terrain.
Magic ascended like a nocturnal galaxy, then plummeted accurately, tearing the land asunder.
As though to seal the end—
A colossal fire column surged, poised to engulf the globe.
20 seconds.
As the blaze dissipated, Celaime's incantation shaped a huge ice mass that speared the fractured earth.
It ascended resembling a vast frozen citadel, shining like an enormous amethyst.
Sloth got encased within and yanked from the depths.
10 seconds.
Eliban, countenance set with determination for the decisive strike, clasped his sword's grip.
With an eerie whoosh, he unsheathed at velocities beyond sight.
The ascending ice exploded, calming the haze.
And inside that fragmented ice—
The instant Radan thrust the trident in his grasp into the grounded Sloth—
0 seconds.
Radan comprehended.
His weapon hadn't pierced Sloth’s heart.
Once the haze fully lifted—
All assembled beheld it.
“Ah.”
Sloth's state was wretched.
Blood trickled from his mouth.
His form bore injuries of all sizes.
Indisputably, the strikes had connected and inflicted harm.
Nevertheless—
Even thus—
“...Ah.”
Sloth's look remained detached.
No—
It wasn't detachment.
That look—
That look—
“…You couldn’t kill me.”
The feeling etched on Sloth’s features—was regret.