Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 348 : Voting (3)

“Duke Altia, we’ll soon be arriving at the Marquis Palatio’s estate.”

“Understood.”

Responding to her secretary’s announcement, Duke Altia directed her eyes toward the carriage window.

The domain of the marquis appeared in sight.

Since her short business trip there years back, it had grown into something completely transformed.

A soft exclamation of praise escaped Duke Altia’s lips.

Simultaneously, a realization surfaced in her mind—“Naturally.”

Who exactly was Marquis Palatio?

The leader of Kalpha, Asteria’s biggest faction.

The myriad honors and tales linked to him were so remarkable that even heading Kalpha seemed minor by contrast.

His accomplishments surpassed what any normal person could achieve.

And remarkably, these weren’t just a couple, but scores of them.

For his land, it made perfect sense to shine so brightly.

Viewed that way.

The marquis’s residence, oddly enough, highlighted Palatio’s modesty.

Despite the region itself inspiring awe in every beholder.

Before the marquis’s staggering accomplishments, it always seemed lacking.

Altia released a breath, her cheeks still tinged with color.

For the upcoming three weeks or so.

A hectic schedule lay ahead for her.

The purpose of her visit to the Marquis Palatio’s estate was straightforward.

The election to select the marquis’s companion.

And her role as one of the contenders.

“It’ll be a fierce contest, but I’ll put in my best effort.”

As she passed through the castle entrance and peered further into the grounds, Duke Altia silently promised herself.

She’d already picked up some basic details during the journey.

Beginning with the identities of those vying to be the marquis’s partner.

And the nature of their ties to him.

Naturally, victory wouldn’t come easily.

As Asteria’s duke and known as Kalpha’s right hand, Duke Altia held a status unmatched by most.

Yet the other hopefuls stood on similar ground.

Indeed, while some had scant background details available, complacency was out of the question.

If anyone was linked to Marquis Palatio, then.

They could scarcely be considered “common” in a positive light.

Nevertheless.

In a twist, it wasn’t a hopeless endeavor.

Ultimately, the outcome hinged on the ballot.

To put it simply.

Capturing the favor of the territory’s residents would seal win or loss, and private bonds with the marquis couldn’t sway it.

Thus, even without a profound link to the marquis like her rivals, Duke Altia could begin evenly.

Above all, Altia felt assured.

She had guided Kalpha, Asteria’s premier faction, up to this point. Sure, the marquis’s reputation had smoothed the path.

Still, the fact stood.

She had managed Kalpha flawlessly as the top group.

So, battles like this were right in her wheelhouse.

Hence.

“Have you finished all the arrangements I requested?”

“Yes, everything’s been handled.”

A look of assurance bloomed on Duke Altia’s features.

She braced herself, mentally reviewing the duties awaiting her during her stay at the marquis’s residence.

And.

That evening, her assurance held firm.

Indeed, it persisted until the dawn of the next day.

“So… what in the world is that?”

From the northern entrance of the marquis’s domain, Duke Altia observed the continuous influx of newcomers.

Clerics clad in spotless white garments, proceeding with deep reverence.

“They’re said to be a pilgrimage party from Rosario. It seems a fresh church is under construction here in the marquis’s territory—”

“I’m aware.”

Duke Altia replied distractedly.

It wasn’t ignorance on her part.

Her initial investigations had covered this, confirming a pilgrimage would come disguised as church support.

Still, astonishment gripped her.

The vast throng of devotees visible—

“How many would you estimate that to be?”

“At least a thousand, likely far exceeding that.”

“That’s impossible.”

Attracting such a multitude for just a single church’s founding strained credulity.

Duke Altia’s thoughts whirled.

True, even if they numbered well over a thousand and every one cast a vote, against the estate’s total populace, it wasn’t decisive.

But should Cardinal Yutia enlist this group in the contest?

The struggle would intensify greatly.

No—beyond that.

It would tilt into a severely lopsided contest.

Such a harsh ordeal faced Duke Altia.

She rubbed her brow with her palm and exhaled, yet her determination remained intact.

For while the odds had shifted adversely.

In a different light, it could spell a chance.

In a rivalry allowing just one victor.

Should one contender near total dominance.

The rest would band together to pull them back.

Thus, Duke Altia scrapped her old strategy and crafted a fresh one.

The following day.

“…What’s that?”

“They appear to be combatants.”

“Yes, I can see that. But what baffles me is… how did they get here from Karmakses so fast? And crucially… does the Golden Flash Guild really boast that many fighters?”

Again, Duke Altia gazed at yet another enormous assembly.

Much like the devotees from before.

A torrent of fighters flooded in.

Even her secretary drew a blank.

Duke Altia sighed and composed her thoughts.

“It’s okay… still manageable,” she reassured herself.

Then, the day after that.

“…Elves?”

“…They’re elves.”

“All those… are elves?”

“Yes, they’re elves.”

And one more day passed.

“What are these ones~?”

“Urgent reports from the Information Guild indicate they’re a group from the Hundred Ghosts, among the four major forces.”

“That’s… quite the number.”

“Yes, certainly…”

She watched the main square in a daze.

At the core of the Marquis Palatio’s domain, dominated by a towering statue.

Devotees, fighters, and the Hundred Ghosts’ group.

All eyeing each other tensely, caught in a wordless confrontation.

“…Maybe I should just head back home?”

Seeing the Marquis Palatio’s estate morph into a chaotic haven for non-humans within mere days, Duke Altia whispered without thinking.

Finally, despair colored her tone.

***

“Your Highness, we’re nearly there.”

“I understand.”

As his knight commander spoke, Prince Tolenis, Caliban’s eldest prince, remembered his father King Palmaryan’s directive.

“Head to Divine Land and uncover Marquis Palatio’s real motives.”

His father had seemed unusually somber.

Tolenis scowled as Divine Land loomed on the horizon.

At face value, Divine Land seemed unremarkable.

Merely a vast military outpost.

But that impression didn’t hold under scrutiny.

A bit of reflection revealed the peculiarities.

Why maintain the area as a mere “camp” after establishing it?

Tolenis quickly deduced the implication.

“Tch.”

He wasn’t alone in this insight.

Descending from his carriage and scanning the area, he noted predecessors already present.

Each with rigid countenances, fixated on Divine Land.

He assessed them individually.

“Ashtalon dispatched its crown prince, Raksas its princess, and Asteria… the king’s steward?”

Given Cretinia Siyan’s heir’s absence, sending a steward made sense.

“Welcome. He awaits your arrival.”

A knight emerged amid them, causing the kingdom reps to tense up further.

He inclined his head politely.

Yet extended no further protocol.

The respect knights of the Allied Kingdoms owed to all monarchs equally.

Divine Land’s knight withheld it.

Though their faces tightened, the heirs trailed after him.

As they moved, Tolenis naturally caught the attention of surrounding troops and knights.

The other nobles did too.

And their looks soured more.

For the sentiments in those stares were clear.

Actually, ignoring them would have been odd.

The troops who’d been drilling moments ago.

Now halted entirely to gawk.

Even their supervising knights joined in.

…As though sizing up foes.

Beneath that hostile inspection, the youthful nobles grasped a key fact.

This location could already count as adversarial ground.

After advancing amid those weighty glares, they approached the grandest pavilion.

“He’s expecting you.”

Led by the knight, they cautiously entered.

And inside—

“So, you’ve all come.”

Marquis Palatio came into view.

Addressing the princes and princess with his usual blank demeanor.

***

Seated in the reception hall, Alon calmly observed the assembled nobles’ faces.

Every one rigid, their gazes locked on him.

He sighed to himself.

Frankly, he couldn’t fathom why the monarchs had agreed to his summons.

But under the circumstances, blurting “Why bother showing up?” would sound absurd.

“Ahem.”

To start, Alon resolved to clarify one essential point.

“I’ll state this clearly first: I have zero plans to attack other realms or ignite conflict. Please keep that in mind.”

The words might have seemed sudden.

But Alon deemed it vital.

By affirming he wouldn’t pursue their greatest dread, he aimed to dispel the oppressive air.

And honestly, it worked somewhat—the tension loosened a tad.

Or better said, they regarded him with faint doubt.

Alon pondered.

Since war held no appeal for him, he owed it to wrap this meeting amicably.

Right then—

“Might I pose a question?”

“Please do.”

The moment was spot-on.

Tolenis was the one inquiring.

“Word is you’ve received land, but why run it like this?”

“Well—”

Alon paused on his reply, then opted for honesty.

In certain respects, it exposed Divine Land’s vulnerability.

Yet sharing it might build credibility.

So.

“It’s about funding. I planned a modest launch at first, but unexpected issues mounted, drawing ever larger crowds. It’s turned into a real hassle.”

“Understood.”

“That’s the situation.”

He responded with utmost candor, then eyed the nobles.

“I’ve managed it independently, without outside aid, to the best of my ability.”

His face stayed neutral, even as he let out a brief chuckle.

However—

Even after Alon bared this flaw to diffuse the strain, the hall’s mood sank deeper into gloom.

Noticing, Alon silently ended his empty mirth.

And a profound quiet settled in.