Became the Patron of Villains

Chapter 13

There were only four years left until the start of the original story.

At the same time, it had been just over a year and one month since all the members of the Five Sins who had been in the orphanage became independent.@@@@

“What is Seolrang up to?”

Alon, who was looking at the letter from Yutia that had arrived today as usual, suddenly grew curious about Seolrang.

Although Yutia’s letters always included stories about her and the other members of the Five Sins, there hadn’t been a single mention of Seolrang since about two months after her independence.

“...No way, she didn’t die in some distant place, did she?”

After pondering for a moment, Alon shook his head resolutely.

According to Yutia’s previous letters, Seolrang had already arrived in the desert nation. If she had followed the letter’s instructions correctly, there was no way she would die in such a manner.

The gift Alon had given her would turn her into a formidable ‘Baba Yaga.’

That, too, as a gladiator in the Colony, where the strong could gain everything.

“It was even written in the item description. It must be correct, right?”

Alon, who liked to read through every detail of item descriptions—thanks to the developer’s habit of filling them with various bits of lore—recalled the phrase written in the item Seolrang would acquire.

“If the Sin of Greed had obtained it, they would have fallen and become a Sin, but instead, she would become a great warrior... I think that was it.”

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Of course, the effect Alon received when he used that item was merely a 20% increase in critical hit rate, but the grand background story that came with it was why he had told Seolrang its location.

Furthermore, in case the item description turned out to be something truly insignificant, he also included the location of a hidden treasure.

But it had been nine months since he last heard from her.

“Maybe I should’ve just given her the treasure quietly?”

As Alon considered this, he shook his head briefly.

The reason he had sent Seolrang to the Colony in the first place was because of the narration claiming she had the talent of a warrior.

Moreover, since Alon couldn’t support her for her entire life, becoming independent was a crucial process.

“No, it’s better if she can make a living on her own.”

Therefore,

‘...Considering Deus’s absurd talent, Seolrang surely hadn’t died... but what on earth happened?’

While Alon wore a strange expression, pondering Seolrang’s whereabouts, in a desert cave deep within the southern region of the desert nation Colony, a girl emerged.

The girl, Seolrang, looked disheveled.

Dirt clung to various parts of her body, and her hair had grown so long it almost covered her face.

However, unlike her appearance, Seolrang’s face bore a wide smile.

“It’s finally over—”

Stretching with a sense of liberation, she looked at the gloves on her hands.

The golden claws adorned on them were a gift bestowed upon her by the Great Moon.

The ‘Essence of the Golden Mane Tribe.’

“How could the Great Moon know where this was?”

After finishing the ‘trial’ and emerging, she tilted her head in curiosity while gazing at the gloves.

And rightly so—this ‘Essence of the Golden Mane Tribe’ was a legendary artifact that had been passed down through her people, the Golden Mane Tribe, for generations.

It was truly deserving of the title “legendary.”

Hundreds of years ago, this item had empowered the Golden Mane Tribe, allowing them to ascend as the rulers of all beastmen and granting them the power to become kings.

Of course, most of what she knew came from tales her mother had told her when she was very young. Having matured somewhat since then, Seolrang had assumed those old stories were exaggerated to some extent.

But now, in this moment, having worn the Essence and been pulled into the inner world to undergo all the trials, Seolrang realized that not a single part of those fantastical old tales was a lie.

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Ssss—

As she lightly drew out her power, her golden eyes began to glow softly within the dark cave.

And that wasn’t all.

Her hair, and even her tail, began to shimmer as if they were radiating light.

Just like the Golden Mane Tribe of ancient legends that her mother used to tell her about.

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Following Alon’s thoughts, the arranged mana formed a spherical orb, deliberately leaving out a specific point to create imbalance.

Zap—

The spell completed.

With Alon’s limited mana, the magic emitted a faint glow.

The only improvement from two months ago was that the imbalance caused by the lightning spell had become slightly more refined, likely due to his growing familiarity with it.

To put it nicely, the spell had become more precise; to put it bluntly, it was still just a useless spell that was only good for its precision.

However, by chanting the phrases, even a useless spell could be given a purpose.

“Fixation.”

The lightning that had been crackling before him froze in place, as if time itself had stopped.

“Compression.”

At his next muttering, the once large sphere shrank into a small bead while remaining frozen in place.

“Collapse.”

Crack!

With the final phrase, the once small bead lost its form as a sphere.

What remained was pure lightning, a fragment of mana appearing before Alon like countless irregular dotted lines gathered together.

And then,

“Momentary Bloom.”

As Alon muttered the final phrase, releasing the Jiquan Mudra he had been holding,

Zap!

—a massive tree of thunder materialized before him.

Radiating a brilliance more dazzling than the midday sun, the blue tree stood still, flaunting its presence.

It was as if lightning had struck and was frozen in place.

Alon nodded in satisfaction.

“...The order of the phrases also changes the spell’s manifestation.”

He recalled how, when he had used Collapse before Fixation in his previous spell, the magic had disappeared without a trace, and he nodded contentedly.

“Even phrases that don’t match the spell can be used if there’s a prior phrase that leads into them.”

Satisfied with the new information he had gained, Alon confirmed that the tree of thunder he had created was gradually fading away.

Though it seemed unlikely that he would ever have a use for it.

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Muttering this, Alon felt a pang of regret as he turned around, his mana hole now completely drained.

His body only allowed him to cast magic once a day.

And just as he turned around,

“?”

Alon saw her.

There, in the training hall of Count Palatio’s estate, stood a young lady he never wanted to get close to—Lady Kalia, the daughter of the Count of Zenonia.

Seemingly shocked by the situation, the usually noble and refined Kalia stood with her mouth agape, an expression of genuine surprise.

“M-M-My goodness...?”

Hearing her shocked voice, Alon turned his gaze away, missing his chance to ask why she was there.

“Origin?”

Standing next to her, a middle-aged man, his mouth also wide open in shock, was holding an ornate cane as he stared at Alon with a similarly astonished expression.

And then,

“?”

Alon, confused by the two’s reactions, came to a sudden realization.

He had heard the man mention “Origin,” a spell that could only be cast by mages who had reached the seventh rank, and then understood one thing.

He had somehow become the subject of a massive misunderstanding.