Became the Patron of Villains

When Alon first received the interview papers from Alexion, he thought he would simply pick a suitable partner without much concern.

At least, until he saw the names of the interviewees.

—Why is Yutia’s name here…??

Yes, Yutia’s name was written on the interview sheet.

And not just hers.

He realized that all the names of those currently staying at the Marquis’ estate were written there as well, leaving him momentarily confused.

‘…What’s going on?’

Well, in the case of Yutia or Seolrang, as Evan had told him, they had been exchanging letters frequently, so it was possible they could have applied for the partner interview.

But what about Rine and Magrina, who were in Fildagreen?

How on earth had he managed to contact them?

The same went for Historia and Ryanga.

If he had known they were in Divine Land, then perhaps contact could be made, but how would Alexion have known of his connections to them?

Alon tilted his head without realizing it.

He looked at Alexion.

“Alexion.”

“Yes.”

“…You said you sent letters and received participants that way, is that correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“Yutia and Seolrang make sense, but how did you send letters to the others?”

“Well…”

Alexion glanced aside nervously, then suddenly forced an awkward smile as he answered.

“Ah, I… I heard it from Sir Evan.”

“From Evan?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

That made some sense.

Alon nodded, but soon noticed that Alexion kept darting glances elsewhere.

‘Behind me?’

And the moment he realized that those glances were aimed behind his back, he quickly turned.

But through the window behind him, there was nothing.

Only the familiar scenery of the inner citadel he had always seen.

His doubt lasted only a moment.

Perhaps he had imagined it, he thought, and turned back to face forward.

Then he decided to ask one of the questions that had been lingering in his mind.

“By the way.”

“Yes.”

“These interview sheets… are you sure they were properly reviewed?”

“Yes, of course… but why do you ask…?”

“Well, it says here that Yutia Bloodia is eighteen years old.”

An innocent question.

Alexion hesitated.

Should he tell the truth?

Right now, in Alexion’s eyes, he could see the gaze of those urging him to give the truthful answer.

For when the Marquis Palatio had looked back earlier, there had been nothing in the scenery of the citadel—yet now, many figures appeared once more, watching Alexion intently.

Among them, Seolrang and Rine were practically shouting with their eyes: ‘Now! Tell the truth! Quickly!’

They were pressed together at the opposite window, which only Alexion could see, glaring fiercely in support.

“The truth is…”

Just as Alexion drew courage from their desperate encouragement and opened his mouth—

He saw it.

The faces of Rine and Seolrang, who had been so eager, suddenly turned pale.

And then—

In an instant, they were sucked away from the window, vanishing.

“…!”

“?”

Like a scene straight out of a ghost story.

Alexion let out a strangled sound and gaped.

Alon looked puzzled, but Alexion still couldn’t tear his eyes away from that spot.

And what he saw next were glowing red eyes.

It should have been midday.

Yet in the strangely dark window opposite, a pair of crimson eyes gleamed.

And beneath them—

Yutia Bloodia’s faint smile could be seen.

Was it faint because of the shadows?

Or was her smile truly fading?

But then—

“??”

As Alon noticed Alexion’s gaze and turned his head again, Yutia vanished as if she had never been there.

“Alexion.”

“Yes, my lord…”

“Is there something behind that window?”

To Alon’s question—

“…No, nothing at all.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“For nothing, you seem awfully nervous.”

He denied it weakly.

Alon gave him a suspicious look.

But Alexion could not speak.

For the moment Alon turned back forward, he saw Yutia again, her fading smile hovering at the edge of the window.

And so—

“T-The truth is—!”

“…The truth is?”

“I-I wrote down Lady Yutia’s age on my own!”

“On your own?”

“Yes, I asked everyone else, but I accidentally forgot to ask Lady Yutia…!”

Alexion laughed nervously.

“I see. But why eighteen?”

“Well, she looks so very young, doesn’t she?”

“…So?”

“Yes, but I thought I at least had to put some basic information on the form, so I just filled it in as a temporary estimate…!”

He added once more, “She simply looks so young.”

Anyone could tell he was desperately fighting for his life.

“Hmm… well, that’s not impossible. Yutia does look young, and she isn’t very tall either.”

Alon nodded as though convinced.

And at that moment, Alexion saw the room brighten.

Yutia stood there with a bright, gentle smile, kindly waving at him.

And next to her—

Seolrang and Rine, each grabbed by the scruff of the neck, screaming silently with their faces: ‘You betrayed us, you traitoooor!!’

But that too lasted only a moment.

Yutia, smiling sweetly, dragged them both away.

Alexion let out a sigh of relief.

“So everything else written here is factual?”

“For now, yes. But whenever I hand you the interview sheets, I’ll add a few small comments as needed.”

Answering Alon’s words, Alexion recalled his earlier resolve.

Even though he had failed to reflect his opinions on the interview sheets,

At the very least, he would try to intervene just a little bit this way.

“All right then. Let’s begin.”

“Yes.”

But unfortunately for him, Alexion couldn’t achieve his true goal.

Every time he tried to speak further, someone would suddenly appear out of nowhere—seen only by him—each wearing a terrifying expression.

In the end, all he could say to Alon were “Yes” and “That’s correct.”

“Is that all?”

“…Yes.”

“Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

“Yes, my lord.”

With that, Alexion left Alon’s office and returned to his own.

And there, he found a golden goblet placed on his desk.

The golden goblet looked as if it were screaming, “I’m an expensive piece straight from Rosario!” with its entire being.

‘No matter how much I like money, this is too much!’

Alexion frowned as he stared at it, then lifted the goblet.

And in that very moment—

“Lord Alexion, I have something to report… Huh, is that a golden goblet!? That’s unbelievably rare and expensive! Where on earth did you get it?”

His secretary, who had suddenly entered, raised a fuss.

“Hmph, don’t mind it.”

“Wow, that’s no joke. If you sold that, you could easily buy several villas for the Marquis’ household!”

“What?”

Alexion, who had answered curtly, suddenly froze at the explanation.

“…This goblet alone is worth that much?”

“Of course! Anyone can see it’s a Rosario-crafted goblet. It’d be strange if it didn’t fetch that price.”

Hearing this, Alexion carefully set the goblet back down on his desk.

It was far too costly a trinket to serve as a point of pride.

***

The next day.

“My lord, what has your attention so firmly?”

“My partner.”

“…Partner? Ah, you mean that?”

“Yes.”

“You still haven’t chosen?”

“Well, no.”

Evan, who had entered the office, hummed and nodded in understanding.

“True, it’s not an easy decision. A partner is important for many reasons—for you, and for them.”

“…Is it really that important?”

“Well, of course. Attending a ball together as partners is essentially acknowledging a certain something. Naturally, rumors will spread, and your public image will be shaped by it.”

“…So it’s a heavier matter than I thought.”

Evan shrugged at Alon’s words.

“But you don’t have to overthink it. As long as nothing more develops beyond that, the rumors will fade. Unless you were a king, a partner wouldn’t carry such weight anyway.”

“Is that so?”

“For kings and princes, changing partners looks strange. For you, not so much.”

“I see.”

Alon nodded, somewhat convinced.

“But still, it’s hard to choose.”

“…Are the candidates really that impressive?”

“No, not exactly impressive. Just… not easy to decide.”

He looked again at the list.

There were plenty of options.

But what made the decision difficult was the thought that his choice might disappoint others.

If they were strangers, it wouldn’t matter much.

The problem was that more than half of the names on the list were people Alon knew personally.

For a moment, he even considered picking someone he didn’t know at all.

But that didn’t feel right either.

So after much hesitation, he finally decided.

“Evan.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“…Can you gather the others?”

“The others—you mean the friends currently at the estate?”

“Yes.”

“…All right then.”

His mind made up, Alon gave the order.

Evan turned to leave, but then suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, my lord. Speaking of which, there’s something I should tell you.”

“What is it?”

“You told me before to send invitations to the kings, correct?”

“Yes, I did. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing wrong, but the letters should all be arriving around today. Should I tell the Divine Land group to prepare, just in case?”

Alon shook his head after a moment’s thought.

“No need. As I said, it’s just for show.”

“Understood. After all, no one is going to accept the invitation.”

“That’s right.”

“Hm. Very well.”

Evan left without further comment.

***

In a place where no one should have been—

Five kings had gathered.

Cretinia Siyan of the Asteria Kingdom.

Stalian V of the Ashtalon Kingdom.

Carmaxes III of the Colony Kingdom.

Palmaryan IV of the Caliban Kingdom.

Torimavia of the Raksas Kingdom.

Kings who usually met only at union councils.

Now, they were holding a secret conference, known to no one outside.

Kings who rarely left their own realms had come together for one reason.

Marquis Palatio.

Or more precisely—

“I told you! Marquis Palatio seeks to become the new sky. He is preparing for war!”

“…Ahem.”

It was his suspicious actions that had drawn them here.

“To be honest, we cannot yet say for certain,” Stalian V argued mildly.

But Palmaryan IV frowned, as if such doubt were absurd.

“Do you really think so? He has already raised countless knights and soldiers. And beyond that, his number of mercenaries grows by the day. Think about it. If he isn’t preparing for war, why gather so many troops? Do you know how much it costs to maintain an army? Isn’t that right? On top of that, his reputation has skyrocketed lately—as if someone were deliberately shaping it.”

The other kings fell silent at Palmaryan IV’s words.

For he was not wrong.

And the more he spoke, the more dangerous Marquis Palatio began to sound.

How long had they debated when—

“Hm…”

“Do you have something to say?”

Carmaxes III, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke.

“To be honest, I don’t think the Marquis would go that far.”

“…Are you serious?”

“Perhaps it’s just coincidence.”

“Coincidence? He raises countless soldiers and knights, gathers the strong, creates his own religion, unites settlers and villages, and grows stronger day by day in Divine Land—and you call that coincidence?”

“…When you put it all together like that, it does sound less like coincidence.”

Carmaxes III’s expression soured.

Had the Marquis heard that, his face would have gone pale and he would have shaken his head desperately.

But the kings, ignorant of this, continued their discussion.

After a while, Palmaryan IV turned to Cretinia Siyan.

“Do you have anything to say?”

“…Anything to say?”

Siyan murmured softly, sinking into thought.

Unlike the others, she wore no visible expression, her face calm as she pondered.

At length, she spoke.

“Then what do you propose we do?”

“That’s obvious—”

Just as Palmaryan IV began to reply—

Knock, knock.

A polite knock came, and someone entered.

It was Palmaryan IV’s aide.

With a grave expression, he approached and whispered something in his ear.

“What?”

Then, as if on cue, the aides of the other kingdoms also entered one by one, delivering grim news to their respective kings.

The kings exchanged meaningful glances.

“…It seems we all received the same message.”

“…It seems so.”

“An invitation, yes?”

“Yes.”

“…It seems we cannot refuse this invitation. If it arrived now, that means he knows we are here. Which means—”

Carmaxes III left his thought unfinished.

But everyone knew what it implied.

“…So we cannot even decline.”

The kings had no choice but to accept Marquis Palatio’s invitation.

All while harboring a monumental misunderstanding.