Became the Patron of Villains

“I think that’s about everything sorted out.”

“Indeed.”

Penia stared at the documents with tired eyes.

Alon rolled his stiff neck.

They had spent almost an entire week on this.

Alon, Penia, and Evan had devoted nearly all their time to establishing order in Divine Land.

“Phew, that was exhausting.”

Evan sighed lightly as he spoke.

Penia gave him a look of disbelief.

“You don’t really have a reason to be tired, do you?”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve been racking my brain beside you two all week!”

“What good is that if nothing you said was actually useful?”

“Hey, just giving opinions helps more than you think!”

“How does that even help?”

“Because someone would’ve said it anyway.”

“I doubt anyone would’ve said something like that.”

“Tsk, tsk. This is why people without real-world experience—”

At Penia’s jab, Evan clicked his tongue and shook his head defiantly.

Alon leaned back in his chair, watching the two go at it.

“Ha? I’m pretty sure I know more about social life than you do.”

“You? More than me?”

“Yeah! You seem to forget because I’m here, but I’m the Vice Tower Master of the Blue Tower, you know!?”

“Being a Vice Tower Master doesn’t mean you’re good at socializing. Throwing your weight around from above doesn’t count as social skill. You don’t even have friends, do you?”

“I do have friends!?”

“Who?”

Penia snapped a little too quickly, forcing an awkward smile as if scratched in pride.

“You’ll be surprised! My friends are way more impressive than yours!”

“Yeah? Like who?”

“The princess of Raksas!”

“The princess?”

“Yes! She was my fellow magic student.”

Evan nodded with a mildly impressed “ho~.”

Penia sniffed proudly.

For a moment, Alon wondered why that was something to brag about.

“And?”

“…What?”

“And, who else?”

Evan’s next question—no, attack—made Penia’s confident smile freeze.

“Uh—well, that’s, um…”

She mumbled, eyes darting everywhere.

Evan’s face slowly went blank in disbelief.

Penia, however, still couldn’t find any words and kept glancing around helplessly.

At that moment, Alon realized why Penia had been so proud of that single princess friend, and the room fell silent.

“Ah, anyway! That’s not the point—”

“Don’t change the subject!!!”

Evan raised a finger, and Penia instantly shouted back.

As the inevitable bickering resumed, a voice suddenly echoed from within Alon’s wineglass.

[Hmph. I can’t understand why you’d waste this much time just to manage believers.]

“Then how would you manage them?”

[Isn’t it obvious? Through fear.]

Basiliora spoke as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Remembering that Basiliora was once the deity worshiped in place of Kalannon, the lightning-bearer, Alon shook his head.

Of course, faith could be gathered through fear.

He even knew beings in the past who had done exactly that.

But he had no intention of following that path.

That method wasn’t what he wanted in the first place.

Above all, unless he planned to conquer the entire continent, he understood that ruling through fear was ultimately the work of the unwise.

“That doesn’t sound like a very good idea.”

He answered calmly.

[Hmph—only because your heart’s too soft for your own good.]

Basiliora grumbled under his breath.

Yet even in his tone, there was a trace of trust toward Alon.

Watching Penia and Evan continue their fiery argument—a sight that now almost felt endearing—Alon rose from his seat.

The affairs in Divine Land were finished.

It was time to head to Rosario.

“Graaah! I’m going to rip all your hair out!”

“You’ve got the temper of a demon!”

First, though, he had to stop those two.

With a faint sigh, Alon felt the peace of his everyday life—still intact, for now.

It was winter.

***

Alon moved exactly the next day.

“Hmm—there’s still a lot left to do.”

Outside the window, winter had stripped the trees bare.

At Penia’s comment, Alon glanced her way.

“Left to do?”

“Yes. I only took care of the urgent matters since you said we needed to go to Rosario, but there’s still plenty remaining.”

“Hm.”

Alon nodded slowly.

Indeed, as she said, while the Divine Land matters were mostly handled, there was still a great deal left to consider.

Declaring a kingdom, for instance, would require carefully wording the royal proclamation.

And even though Divine Land had plenty of knights, a kingdom wasn’t built on soldiers alone.

What truly made a kingdom was its people—its citizens.

Without citizens, there could be no kingdom at all.

‘Well, I did ask Sili to take care of that, but still…’

Though Sili had managed to gather countless followers by herself so far, it was impossible to amass a population large enough to be called a nation.

Impossible… right?

Yeah, most likely impossible.

Alon stopped his racing thoughts and spoke.

“There’s still a lot to handle outside of Divine Land.”

“Yes, and on top of that—there’s magic, the Tower, Terea, and even Fildagreen you need to visit, right?”

That was true.

There were not only problems to solve but also many places to go.

‘I’ll have to handle everything in one go soon.’

He reached that conclusion in his mind, but then—

“Oh, and you remember, right?”

“Remember what?”

“That person called ‘Footsteps of the Past’—Kylrus, wasn’t it? You still have to meet him.”

“Ah, right.”

Alon let out a quiet hum.

He’d meant to visit Kylrus as soon as his memories returned.

But the Divine Land workload had delayed it.

As the saying went, strike while the iron is hot.

He decided to act immediately—using Footsteps of the Past, he entered his inner world to meet Kylrus.

“It’s been a while.”

He greeted Kylrus.

But Alon couldn’t respond as usual.

Because—

“What… is this place?”

The inner world he entered after so long looked completely different from before.

No, calling it a “scenery” wasn’t even accurate.

Where he stood, there was nothing—just pitch-black emptiness.

Yet it wasn’t the kind of darkness found in a lightless abyss.

Though the surroundings were dark, Kylrus’s figure was clearly visible.

Amid that strange contradiction, Alon asked, and Kylrus replied in a casual tone.

“You’re asking the obvious.”

“This… is my inner world?”

“Yes.”

“Can an inner world change like this?”

Kylrus shook his head.

“Normally, an inner world doesn’t change unless there’s a massive emotional shift or trauma.”

“…………Then the reason mine changed—”

“—would be because you experienced some sort of emotional shock or trauma.”

He added quietly, “Though I have no idea what kind of trauma it could be.”

Gazing at the abyss-like surroundings, he asked,

“So, what happened?”

Alon calmly recounted everything that had occurred so far.

How Eliban became the Sin of Wrath.

The burden he carried.

The words he had spoken.

And finally, the meeting with Blue Eyes that followed.

After listening to Alon’s long, composed account,

Kylrus let out a dry chuckle.

“Ha.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Now that I’ve heard your whole story, I can’t help but feel ridiculous.”

At his reaction, Alon stayed silent.

It wasn’t surprising that Kylrus would feel that way.

He was, after all, a sorcerer who had once tried to become a god—even if it meant turning into a goblin—to fight against sin.

Hearing Alon’s story would have shaken anyone’s heart.

As Alon quietly watched him, Kylrus exhaled and steadied his breath.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t plan on being haunted by what’s already over. Though, I’ll admit—it’s a shame I never got my revenge myself.”

“I see.”

“Anyway,” Kylrus continued, “back to the main point. From what you’ve said, I can understand how your emotions might’ve shifted. But I still don’t understand why your inner world looks like this.”

He swept his gaze across the pitch-black void, then gave Alon a curious look.

“Judging by what you told me and what I see now, your thoughts don’t seem extreme or unstable.”

“So in the end, you don’t know why my inner world changed like this.”

“Right. If I had to guess, it’s probably because you became that ‘Divine Blood’ or whatever you called it. But I’m sure that’s something you’ve already considered yourself.”

Kylrus glanced away.

“In any case, training won’t be possible until this mental realm stabilizes.”

“Why not?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You can’t use power properly in a world that’s changed like this.”

“…I can’t use it?”

Alon furrowed his brow and tried to channel magic.

“Huh?”

Just as Kylrus said, no magic formed.

“Hm. I thought you might still be able to, but I guess not.”

Kylrus shrugged as Alon’s expression froze in surprise.

“Anyway, until you find a way to restore this inner world—at least partially—to what it was, training is off the table.”

With that, their conversation ended.

***

While Alon was meeting with Kylrus and making his way toward Rosario, in Divine Land—

“Hm… this might be a bit difficult, don’t you think?”

Three people sat in the office, discussing the issue with serious expressions.

“I agree,” Ryanga said first.

Deus nodded.

“Same here,” Historia added calmly from her seat.

The reason for their meeting was simple—the latest directive from Marquis Palatio.

Or, more precisely, a “If possible, try to do this” kind of suggestion.

“Still, we can’t just sit around doing nothing.”

“That’s true.”

“I agree. If it’s the Marquis’s words, we must act.”

Their faces were filled with determination.

To them, the Marquis’s orders were as good as law.

They were eager to fulfill them.

Of course, enthusiasm didn’t make the task any easier.

“So… how do we gather citizens?”

For these three, coming up with a way to gather “citizens” was a nearly impossible problem.

Even if anyone else were here, they’d be just as speechless.

Naturally so—

there was nothing to start with, yet they were expected to gather a population large enough to be called “citizens.”

“I have an idea.”

“!? Really?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“Disarm the soldiers and make them citizens.”

“Didn’t we already try that and fail?”

“Ah.”

So much for that.

Just as they were tossing around ideas—if one could call them that—

“Everyone’s here, I see.”

Sili entered the office.

She had left Divine Land a few days ago to take care of some personal tasks.

“Sili, you’re back. I trust there were no issues?”

“No, brother. I just had some errands to run while preparing a little ‘gift.’”

“Is it ready?”

“Not yet. It’ll take some time to make, but it should be finished well before the proclamation day. Anyway, what are you all discussing?”

Deus naturally filled her in on Alon’s directive.

After listening for a while, Sili tilted her head slightly.

“Oh, that’s simple.”

“Simple?”

“Yes. I don’t think it’ll be difficult.”

“Gathering that many citizens?”

“Yes.”

Sili smiled brightly.

At that, Ryanga and Deus exchanged uneasy glances.

They already knew.

Sili had a tendency to do utterly insane things—with a cheerful smile.

“Sili.”

“Yes, brother?”

“You’re not planning anything… coercive, are you?”

Deus asked carefully.

Sili smiled even more sweetly.

“Oh, of course not. He wouldn’t like any forceful methods, so why would I use them?”

“Hm. I thought as much.”

“Yes. It won’t be forced.”

“…”

“Not exactly forced.”

Deus and Ryanga looked at each other, sensing an inexplicable dread.

“?”

Only Historia watched their silent exchange with a puzzled expression.