Became the Patron of Villains

“Brother’s memories have reverted to when he was a child.”

Magrina’s shocking words — perhaps a desperate gambit thrown by Rine, who couldn’t come here — instantly silenced the murmuring crowd.

“What do you mean by that?”

Radan asked, putting on a grave expression.

Magrina sighed and spoke.

“It’s exactly as I said. His memories are gone. More precisely… they’ve gone back to about thirteen years ago.”

Her declaration, spoken as if stamping confirmation, briefly swallowed the room in silence again.

The heavy silence was broken when—

“Could it be that someone attacked Master?”

Seolrang, who earlier couldn’t hide his surprise, now wore a blank expression that showed no emotion.

“Huh?”

“That he—”

“—was attacked?”

Seolrang’s words seemed to be the spark.

At her single line, the people who had kept silent began to exude a terrifying force—no, magical power began to flow out from them.

Crackle!

Even dispersing mana bent the nearby terrain and changed its shape in an instant.

“Who did it? Who dares touch Chief—”

“We’ll have to kill them.”

With a series of harsh, buzzing sounds, the surrounding trees began to topple, making a tremendous racket.

It was so loud that even Alon, who knew nothing of the situation, could hear it faintly in his ears.

“Hmm—did two monsters fight or something?”

“What is that…?”

“If large monsters fight sometimes you hear noises like that. But there shouldn’t be any large monsters around here.”

As Alon tilted his head at Penia’s explanation while they were handling official business together—

“Wait, everyone calm down.”

“Calm? Is this the time to calm down?”

“First hear the explanation to the end before you get angry, if you please.”

Magrina tried to cool the overheated air.

If left alone, those people would smash everything around them at once and go hunting for whoever might attack Alon.

Magrina began to explain, in a composed voice, why the current situation had occurred.

About ten minutes passed.

“So then, in short, Marquis temporarily regressed thirteen years for magical achievement? And the accident made that state persist longer than necessary?”

“That’s right.”

“Hmm—so Master wasn’t attacked by anyone, then?”

“Yes.”

“Sigh, and here I was thinking—”

Ryanga exhaled and continued.

“So? Why are you telling us this?”

“Of course there’s a reason.”

“What is it?”

“Right now Marquis hasn’t announced to the outside world that he’s lost his memory.”

“If news spreads that he lost his memory now, that wouldn’t be good in any sense.”

Magrina nodded at Deus’s words.

“That’s why I’m telling you all ahead of time. If Marquis behaves a little oddly, then—”

“Play dumb and act like you don’t know.”

“That’s correct.”

At her affirmation, everyone gathered there nodded in agreement.

“If we react strangely to such matters, it would look suspicious.”

“We’ll be mindful.”

“Me too.”

“Okay, I’ll do that as well.”

The atmosphere relaxed in an instant.

It was hard to imagine that these people had just been radiating enough mana to tear someone apart.

“So there’s nothing else to report?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll be going.”

“Me too!”

“Same here.”

“I have to go too. I still have things to prepare.”

One by one, they waved lightly and departed.

Historia flicked her hand in a breezy manner as she left.

Magrina let out a small sigh as she watched them go.

With that, the visible duties were, for the moment, finished.

Magrina recalled the scene from just now.

Though she had waved them off, relieved that nothing major had happened, each of the departing people had shown the same look in their eyes.

A look that said they could do something at this timing.

Magrina cleared her throat without meaning to.

In truth, as soon as Rine had told her the news earlier today, she had done a little “preparation” of her own.

“I hope tomorrow comes quickly.”

Magrina murmured as she turned and vanished into the forest, and soon the woods were left empty.

***

Late at night.

Alon, who hadn’t yet slept, sat alone in the study without even Penia, lost in thought.

He thought about magic.

How should he proceed?

Except for the first week he spent adapting to the suddenly changed world, Alon had spent the remaining three weeks thinking about magic.

More precisely, he had been thinking about how to remove the vulnerabilities of the “artifacts” and “phrases” he used.

Alon had taken the regression potion through Penia and reached this state to find a way to eliminate those vulnerabilities.

But unfortunately—

He hadn’t found any clues in the past three weeks.

In some sense that was only natural.

The basic functioning of the regression potion is to temporarily erase memories and return one to childhood, then use that childlike imagination to find unseen paths in the present.

A child’s imagination is richer than an adult’s, after all.

There were even Tower Masters who’d seen results with this regression potion, so it must be helpful to some degree.

Still, even if it helped mages—or even Tower Masters reach the eighth rank—it didn’t help Alon.

Think about it.

What Tower Masters sought through the regression potion was childhood imagination.

But, unfortunately—

Alon had never had a period in this world when he possessed a child’s imagination.

He was a being who had entered the game.

In short—

There was no imagination for him to recover with the regression potion from the start.

All that existed for him were the memories, worn thin and frayed.

He couldn’t gain the imagination one might expect from the potion.

Still, the thought crossed his mind — “Was my future self just stupid, doing something completely meaningless?”

But before long, he abandoned that thought.

No matter how desperate his future self had been, there was no way he wouldn’t have known this fact.

So Alon concluded that his future self had knowingly drunk the Regression Potion regardless.

“Then the reason must have been… to erase knowledge about the game.”

For that purpose, Alon tried to recall his memories.

The memories of the magic he had seen in the game — once so vivid before he fully regained consciousness — were now faint and unclear.

It was like reading Psychedelia from a book rather than experiencing it firsthand.

In other words, before drinking the Regression Potion, Alon seemed to have deliberately erased his knowledge of magic from the game.

As if expecting something from it.

Past Alon realized this about three weeks later.

And from that realization, he tried to develop his reasoning further.

But even now, he hadn’t achieved any meaningful result.

‘Why would I erase that knowledge?’

He asked himself for what must have been the tenth time, but of course, no answer came back.

“Haa…”

The only reasonable deduction Alon had reached over that time was this — his future self believed that in order to improve his current weaknesses, the “knowledge from the game” was unnecessary — or rather, poisonous.

Feeling his eyelids growing heavy, Alon stood up and looked out at the night sky.

Unlike the sky he had seen a month ago, there wasn’t a single star — only the moon hanging alone.

Staring blankly at it, Alon eventually turned toward his bedroom to rest.

Even as he walked back, his thoughts refused to stop.

***

The next morning.

Despite being unable to sleep until dawn because of magic, Alon woke up rather early and rubbed his tired eyes.

“Today’s… my birthday, wasn’t it?”

The moment he remembered, his heart grew heavy.

He had to deceive everyone who would come today.

‘I’ve been told the basics, but…’

Penia had explained who would visit him today, and who might possibly come by.

Still, it was obvious that mere explanations wouldn’t make him any better at lying — something he’d never been good at in the first place.

‘This is going to be stressful.’

Feeling an unnecessary weight, Alon pulled open the curtains that usually stayed drawn.

Outside lay the same peaceful village scenery as always, along with the statue of the Northern Warden standing proudly—

“…?”

The statue was there.

Yes, it was there.

Just as it always had been.

Exactly where it should be.

And yet, the reason Alon found himself staring blankly at it was simple—

‘It’s… bigger?’

The statue had grown in size.

‘Did I see that wrong?’

He blinked several times and examined it carefully.

Its posture was definitely the same.

Then he turned his gaze toward the auction house beside it.

He remembered the statue being about one and a half times taller than the auction hall when seen from his window.

But now—

‘Twice the height?’

No matter how many times he compared it to the building, the conclusion was unavoidable — the statue really had grown.

An hour later.

“Good morning, Marquis.”

“Ah, Deus.”

Alon looked at Deus and, behind his neutral expression, couldn’t help but think—

‘He’s handsome.’

Unlike the grotesque face he had in the game, Deus Maccalian was strikingly good-looking.

If he walked around like that in public, people of all ages and genders would surely turn their heads to admire him.

But Alon’s surprise didn’t last long.

“So, how do you like the gift?”

“Gift?”

“Yes — the statue, my lord.”

“Ah…”

At that, realization struck him.

The reason the statue had suddenly become so huge was because of Deus.

Before he could even begin to wonder how someone could alter such a massive sculpture overnight without making a sound, Deus continued—

“Yes, since you liked it so much before, I prepared a larger one this time!”

The fact that his future self had supposedly liked that ridiculous statue of the Northern Warden left Alon even more dumbfounded.

But of course, he couldn’t show it.

“…Thank you.”

He replied calmly, pretending not to question, “I liked that?”

“How about I prepare two more next time?”

“…Two more of those?”

“Yes! You liked it so much, after all!”

Deus said enthusiastically, full of pride.

Feeling utterly confused, Alon nonetheless replied,

“Sure… that sounds fine. I do like it.”

And with that—

“As expected! You really do love statues, my lord! I’ll get to work on them right away!”

Watching Deus leave with a strangely proud expression, Alon began to feel a creeping dread at what kind of person his future self had become.

Just then—

“Master! Look at this!”

“What is it?”

“A gift!”

This time it was Seolrang who brought a present.

“The gift you wanted, Master!”

—A marriage registration form.

‘What the hell is this now?!’

Alon’s mind went blank.