Became the Patron of Villains Chapter 6

Alon found great contentment in his life at Rodmill.

In just three short days, the residence had provided him with the ideal noble lifestyle he had always envisioned.

He possessed the freedom to wake at his leisure.

He could retire for the night whenever he chose.

He could dine at any hour he pleased.

To Alon, Rodmill was a sanctuary where the three pillars of human happiness could be enjoyed without restriction or effort.

Sigh.

As the funeral service for Leo Palatio, the Palatio family’s firstborn, proceeded, Alon stared forward and exhaled a quiet breath.

Leo’s corpse was drained of color, appearing as cold and lifeless as Tonio and the previous Count Palatio had been before him.

A look of genuine perplexity crossed Alon's features.

The source of Alon’s bewilderment was the nature of Leo’s passing; it didn't match the events he had anticipated. The timeline of fate seemed to have warped.

He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Leo’s remains with careful detail.

Though the formal burial robes obscured the physical trauma...

A ‘Moonflower’ was visible.

According to the customs of the kingdom, the bodies of the deceased were adorned with a native blue bloom known as a Moonflower to mark the location of fatal injuries or significant scars.

One such flower rested directly over Leo's heart.

Alon pondered the identity of the culprit while considering the cause of death.

He was well aware of Leo’s reckless reputation in the criminal underworld. Given his history of dangerous behavior, a violent end wasn't entirely unexpected.

Leo was likely responsible for the deaths of over a thousand souls, whether by his own hand or through his orders.

Nevertheless, Alon remained suspicious because he possessed knowledge of what Leo’s future was supposed to be.

Searching for clues, Alon scanned the surrounding crowd.

A moderate number of mourners had gathered for the ceremony.

The Palatio household's knights, retainers, and servants were all in attendance.

While he understood that several noble guests had come to pay respects earlier, they had departed by the time Alon arrived.

Consequently, the audience consisted solely of those bound to the Palatio name.

And yet...

Every person present seemed desperate to avoid his line of sight.

A servant who once mockingly claimed Alon would have perished in the gutters if not for his noble birth was now bowing low, drenched in a cold sweat.

A knight who used to provoke Alon at every opportunity now made a point of staring at the floor to ensure their paths didn't cross.

Alon picked up on even more subtle cues in their behavior that piqued his interest.

Whenever his eyes drifted toward a servant, their hands would begin to shake visibly.

Moments prior, when Alon’s gaze met a knight’s and he gave a casual shrug, the warrior became so flustered that he dropped his ritual blade, creating a clumsy disturbance in the middle of the solemn event.

These reactions spoke volumes about Alon's current reputation among the staff.

Two hours later,

“Young Master.”

“Yes?”

“The situation has surpassed my expectations.”

“...Just how severe is it?”

“Currently, you are viewed as the Palatio family’s shadow ruler, whispered to be powerful enough to dismantle Avalon in a single afternoon.”

It dawned on Alon that he had been cast as a formidable mastermind within the family hierarchy without his knowledge.

“All I did... was toast some bread...”

Alon lamented softly, remembering his peaceful time in Rodmill where he had done nothing more than cook a simple breakfast while these dark rumors were festering.

“In the time it took for that bread to brown, you became the secret puppeteer of sword masters.”

“This isn't the time for jests.”

“I am quite serious, Young Master. That is the consensus currently circulating.”

“...How did such a story even gain traction?”

Utterly confused, Alon knit his brows. Evan began to recount the intelligence he had pulled from the guilds.

A short time later,

“To summarize, Avalon—the syndicate Leo commanded—vanished from the underworld overnight, right after his death?”

“Correct.”

“And the public believes I am the architect of this destruction?”

“Precisely.”

“...On what grounds?”

“Because you are the sole individual who gains from these events, Young Master.”

“Stated that way... I suppose it sounds logical...”

Indeed, Alon realized he was the perfect suspect.

Leo’s assassination occurred shortly after Alon’s departure for Rodmill, followed immediately by the total collapse of Avalon.

From an outside perspective, Alon was clearly the primary beneficiary.

He had secured his status as the Palatio heir while maintaining a flawless alibi in Rodmill.

Furthermore, the annihilation of Avalon had scrubbed the Palatio name clean of the underworld filth that had long stained it.

Any criminal elements that might have threatened Alon’s peace had been effectively erased.

“But... are you absolutely certain you weren't involved, Young Master?”

“...You were standing right next to me, buttering the toast.”

“I remember, but the timing was so impeccable that I had to confirm.”

“Are you actually questioning me...?”

“It isn't doubt, per se, but you do have a habit of giving cryptic instructions without explaining your motives.”

Alon fell silent, unable to deny Evan’s observation. It was a valid point.

Instead of arguing, he retreated into his own thoughts.

Alon shook his head dismissively.

Try as he might, he couldn't identify any faction with the strength to liquidate Avalon so abruptly.

Just as he was about to give up, a thought occurred to him.

“...Ah.”

“Ah.”

Recalling a previous conversation with Evan, he asked,

“Evan.”

“Yes?”

“Didn't you mention a specific group that targets other syndicates?”

“Are you referring to the Blue Moon?”

“Yes, them. Could they be the ones?”

Evan dismissed the idea with a shake of his head.

“No. The information guild has already discounted the Blue Moon.”

“How can they be so certain?”

“The Blue Moon always leaves a signature behind. Furthermore, their battlefields are usually littered with severed limbs, but never intact corpses.”

“And that wasn't the case here?”

“The reports described it as a slaughterhouse... most were dispatched by clean blade strikes.”

“Which is why they assume I have a sword master in my employ...”

“Exactly.”

Alon nodded, absorbing Evan’s report.

...The night stretched on, consumed by his endless speculation.

***

“Were any clues left behind?”

In the subterranean depths of the eastern orphanage, the four regular members gathered. As the question was posed, they each gave their report.

“I left nothing.”

“Neither did I!”

“The same for me. I followed your orders to the letter; no traces remain.”

Rine, her green eyes glowing softly in the dark, added more information.

“The information guild hasn't connected our group to the Avalon incident yet.”

“And what is their conclusion?”

“They believe it was the work of a lone sword master who turned the place into a hellscape.”

Following Deus’s update, Yutia remained quiet for a moment, lost in thought, before speaking with gravity.

“Even so, maintain surveillance on the information guild. As I have emphasized repeatedly, you understand the stakes, don't you? He must never find out. Never.”

Yutia’s crimson eyes burned with intensity, and the others nodded their agreement immediately.

“...Is such extreme secrecy truly necessary?”

Deus asked, his typical smirk fading into a look of concern as he noted Yutia’s rare display of nerves.

After a brief silence, Yutia answered with finality.

“It is absolutely necessary.”

“...But why?”

Yutia’s eyes flashed dangerously as she replied to Deus’s persistence.

“I’ve explained this. We are his blades. A sword does not think or judge for itself; it simply acts when he wields it.”

“But for a sword to move on its own... that isn't right, is it?”

“The Count’s firstborn targeted him first, so—”

“That is irrelevant. An error is an error. There was no ‘command.’ Do you understand? We only strike when he orders it. If he is silent, we do nothing. Ever.”

Deus ran his tongue over his teeth, meeting Yutia’s gaze.

Despite her living in an orphanage, she possessed a regal and commanding aura, backed by a terrifying level of power. Yet, whenever his name was mentioned, her demeanor shifted.

Her noble dignity twisted into a form of haunting fanaticism, and her grace became something feral and predatory.

Deus found it incomprehensible.

“Ensure every footprint is erased. Do not fail him.”

He couldn't grasp how someone as powerful as her—someone who could dominate everyone in the room by presence alone—could feel such profound dread at the mere thought of being ‘discovered.’

“I understand.”

Deus kept his doubts to himself and simply nodded. As their meeting concluded,

“They have arrived.”

The basement door swung open, and a man stepped inside.

Even in the pitch-black room, his hair shimmered with a brilliant silver light, looking as though it were woven from moonbeams.

“Everything is as the boss predicted.”

In the destined future, this man was known as one of the Five Great Sins—The Sin of Obsession.

“The remnants of Avalon numbered 286 men.”

Ladan reported, his sharp, lunar eyes glinting in the dark.

“I cleaved them all in two and ended them.”

It had taken only five days for Avalon, the dominant power in the Asteria Kingdom’s eastern territories, to be reduced to nothing but a broken sign in the dirt.

“However, the task may not be entirely finished.”

“Explain.”

“I discovered more nobles with ties to Avalon.”

Ladan produced a neatly folded parchment from his cloak and set it upon the table.

“The House of Duke Altia is involved. The connection is significant; I found ledgers detailing their transactions. Four individuals are implicated, all of whom are the Duke’s offspring. Given their level of involvement, they may begin investigating this collapse. How shall we proceed?”

Yutia pondered the news in silence before speaking.

“You already know my response, don't you?”

She whispered, her red eyes shining with a predatory light.

“Understood. I shall handle it with the utmost discretion.”

Ladan gave a quiet nod of affirmation.

***

In the wake of Leo Palatio’s funeral, Alon’s schedule became frantic.

Beyond investigating Leo’s death—which had deviated from the game’s original narrative—numerous unwanted responsibilities demanded his time.

The days blurred into a constant stream of tasks. A month later, he found himself not at the family estate, but in Estrovan, a territory located in the southern reaches of the Asteria Kingdom.

He was there to attend a biannual social gala.

While his official reason for attending was to build social rapport, he actually had private matters to settle within the region.

Still, he intended to play the part of the socialite to some degree.

With his succession as the next Count nearly guaranteed within the year, establishing alliances with the nobility was vital for his future status and personal ease.

...Or that had been the plan.

Alon surveyed the grand ballroom.

A crescent-shaped chandelier cast a radiant glow over the room, where the children of the elite mingled in their most expensive finery, epitomizing high-society grace.

The issue was...

Not a single noble dared to meet Alon’s eyes.

Alon watched as a young lady of noble birth instinctively lowered her head the moment their gazes collided.

He let out a heavy sigh, realizing that his mission to ‘strengthen social ties’ would be far more difficult than he had imagined.