Chapter 128: Are You a Heretic? (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 128: Are You a Heretic? (3)
In the deep of the night, before the gates of the Merkillan Territory.
Though weeks had passed since the battle, the scars of the fierce struggle remained etched across the land. It was there, cutting through the blue moonlight, that "it"—clad in a black holy shroud—appeared.
Just as before, it gazed silently toward the outer castle, which stood unguarded, before turning away and walking with calm, measured steps.
Step. Step.
The pace was neither loud nor soft, neither fast nor slow—a perfectly moderate stride.
The first place it reached was the site where the Artificial Outer Gods and Basiliora had clashed.
The next was the spot where Marquis Palatio had stood.
And the final place it stopped was where Duke Comallon had been.
“…….”
The very spot where Duke Comallon had closed his eyes while lying on the ground, turning into dust and vanishing.
Staring intently at that patch of earth, the entity’s face, which had worn a constant smile until now, shifted through a variety of expressions.
It maintained a blank stare, then let out a small chuckle.
Its expression clouded for a moment, only for the corners of its mouth to twist into a grotesque contortion.
And then.
“In the end, is this as far as a half-baked Magus goes?”
It muttered in a low voice, whether a lament or something else entirely, while looking ahead.
“Well—it doesn’t matter. I’ve found someone new who piques my interest. I suppose I’ll just have to watch again.”
It turned around and headed into the darkness.
“To see if he is truly the right m҈̢̗͔̙̥̦̇̓͠a҈̡͚͈̗҇͌̈́̍̔t̶̡͈̦̲̱̤̉̊̉͞ė̷̡͇͓̯̥͌̃̄̕̚ṙ̷̡͇͓̯̥͌̃̄̕̚i̷̡͇͓̯̥̇͌̃̄̕̚ȧ̷̡͇͓̯̥͌̃̄̕̚l̷̡͇͓̯̥̇͌̃̄̕̚ or not.”
The bizarre language scattered and vanished into the wind, leaving no one behind.
* * *
On the way back to the Marquis Palatio’s estate after everything was settled.
Alon gazed out the window at the arrival of winter with a relaxed expression.
…In truth, the cleanup wasn't entirely finished, but that wasn't his problem to worry about.
“Marquis.”
“What is it?”
“You’ve been lost in thought a lot lately.”
When Evan, who was inside the carriage for their overnight camp, asked, Alon shrugged and replied.
“I have a lot to think about.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
Until now, he had been busy focusing on his recovery and then being summoned to Tern immediately after, so only now did he have the chance to think about what needed to be done.
‘Duke Comallon, the black things, the border, magic… Among those, is an investigation into those things the first priority?’
No, to be precise, he had to look into Duke Comallon’s comment about how "those things are coming up."
Based on all the information Alon currently possessed, the identity of "those things" mentioned by the Duke seemed to be the Five Great Sins.
“Hmm—”
This was a fairly significant issue for Alon.
He had put in a great deal of effort to prevent the Five Great Sins from descending upon this world.
…To be honest, he hadn't exactly worked himself to death, but it was true that he had raised the children destined to become the Five Great Sins with good food and care so they would grow up normally and avoid their dark awakenings.
‘I did… raise them well, right?’
He suddenly recalled the Sins he had met so far and felt a flicker of anxiety, but he quickly calmed his mind and continued his train of thought.
What mattered to Alon at this point was the fact that the Five Great Sins, which he thought would never appear because he had raised the kids well, might actually manifest after all.
‘Honestly, it’s suspicious.’
A seed of doubt sprouted: Would that really happen?
The reason the Five Great Sins descended was that the villains who served as their vessels had "fallen" to the dark side.
According to the game information Alon knew, since Yutia and the others had mostly grown up fine without falling, it was logically correct to assume the probability of the Five Great Sins appearing was virtually zero.
However, Alon couldn't simply brush off Duke Comallon’s words.
Having caught a slight glimpse of the hidden fragments of this world, Alon knew that things here didn't always work exactly like the game settings.
“…….”
Alon recalled the time he spoke with Duke Comallon.
He couldn't tell if the words the Duke had uttered so calmly after his hollow laughter were truth or lies.
Yet, no matter how much he thought about it, it didn't seem like the Duke had been lying at that moment.
His eyes.
Duke Comallon’s gaze wasn't that of a madman believing in delusions; it was the gaze of someone staring directly at an infinitely dark reality.
Therefore.
‘…Did he say the south of the border?’
He recalled the Duke’s words once more.
The south of the border.
Literally the boundary between the United Kingdoms, which served as the stage for Psychedelia, and the Empire, the stage for Calypsophobia. It was a place Alon had intended to visit eventually anyway.
‘…And if the Five Great Sins are descending, it’s a place I absolutely must go.’
Thinking of the wasteland the players called the Badlands, he re-examined the Duke’s words.
‘…The truth lies to the south of the border… huh.’
He thought with a sigh and made his decision.
‘I should move as soon as my body recovers.’
The matter regarding the Five Great Sins was incredibly important.
Additionally, he had developed a bit of curiosity regarding Duke Comallon as well.
‘…So, first I’ll recover, and by the time I get back from the border, I’ll have hit the two-year mark… Then I can go to the Colony and ask about the formula the Duke mentioned.’
Having organized his thoughts like that—
“Marquis.”
“Yeah?”
“Would you like a sweet potato?”
“Sure.”
As Alon ate the sweet potato Evan habitually handed him, he noticed white snowflakes falling outside the carriage window.
“Oh. It’s snowing.”
“So it is.”
He chewed his sweet potato while watching the first snow fall.
…Maybe it was because of the snow, but the sweet potato tasted even better than usual.
And so, time passed.
About two weeks later, Alon arrived at the Palatio estate.
The following day.
Alon’s eyes widened as he received a brief report on the state of the territory from Evan.
“…All of this is gold and treasure sent from the Merkillan Territory?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes, all of it.”
Before him stood more than five carriages filled with treasures that he hadn't seen when he arrived yesterday.
With a dazed expression, Alon walked forward and opened one of the carriages.
Clatter-clink!
Gold and silver treasures poured out the moment he opened it.
Watching the coins dye the white snow with a golden hue in an instant—
“Wow—”
Evan, watching from the side, let out an involuntary gasp of admiration, and Alon felt the same.
Basically, his expression didn't change, so he looked calm on the outside, but Alon was currently extremely shocked.
‘No, this is… a bit much, isn't it?’
Of course, it wasn't that Alon had never received such gifts before.
He had received similar gifts from Karmakeses III in the Colony and rewards like this from the Holy Kingdom Rosario.
However, those had mostly been treasure-like items; he had never received this much raw gold coin before.
‘Just how much is this? No, why go this far?’
Alon’s jaw dropped as he thought, unable to understand.
Of course, it was true that Alon was the hero who saved the Merkillan Territory.
It was also true that if he hadn't saved it, the territory would have vanished.
But he felt this was a bit excessive…
‘…Philian, now that I see this, you’re a friend who really knows how to show gratitude.’
He decided to accept the gold coins very thankfully.
It is the way of the world that the more money you have, the better, and is it not a virtue to never refuse a gift?
‘Well, the Merkillan Territory is wealthy to begin with.’
Knowing the circumstances, Alon decided to accept the gift without feeling burdened.
“Marquis.”
“What is it?”
“If it’s not too much trouble, could I have just one gold coin?”
“I shall grant you this special permission.”
After gifting Evan a single gold coin, Alon hummed to himself as he stared at the carriages full of gold for a long while.
He had been hungry and his fingers and toes had been tingling from mana poisoning, but now, for some reason, his body felt perfectly healthy.
A smile naturally tugged at his lips.
This was what happened on Alon’s first day back at the estate.
* * *
Around that time.
In the office of the Merkillan Territory.
“I wonder if the gifts arrived safely?”
“Yes, they should have arrived by now.”
“That’s a relief.”
As Philian nodded, his secretary, Cullan, spoke up.
“But Young Mas—no, Duke, will you be alright?”
“About what?”
“The gifts. Sending that much money when we need to restore the territory immediately…”
The secretary’s murmur was full of concern.
His words were reasonable, but Philian shook his head firmly.
“The Merkillan Territory would have been destroyed if Marquis Palatio hadn't stopped Duke Comallon. If that had happened, you and I wouldn't even be sitting here like this, Cullan.”
“…That is true.”
“Furthermore, a debt of gratitude must be repaid clearly. Even if that much money is gone, we still have enough to handle this situation, don't we?”
“That is also true, but just in case of an unforeseen situation…”
“Cullan.”
“Yes.”
“Calculations are not needed when repaying a kindness. If you can repay it now, you simply do. My father would have done the same.”
His words were firm.
Cullan remained silent for a moment before responding.
“I have spoken out of turn.”
He bowed his head in apology and left to attend to his duties.
Once Cullan was gone, Philian let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair.
“This is exhausting—”
Unlike his stiff expression from a moment ago, his face was now relaxed.
In fact, his behavior toward Cullan just now had been an act.
‘I really don't want to do this.’
To be honest, Philian wanted to quit this acting as soon as possible.
However, the reason he continued was because of his younger brother, Merkillan Gillan.
Actually, Philian had initially intended to hand over the position of Duke to his brother immediately.
Regardless of his disastrous social skills, he was quite self-aware and easily recognized that he wasn't the right material to lead a territory.
Philian, who had wanted to hand over the title right away, had changed his mind after hearing his brother’s words.
‘…A central figure is needed until the territory is stabilized, huh.’
Following his brother’s advice, he decided to take on the role of the successor until the territory was stable.
No matter how oblivious he was, he knew that the state of the territory immediately after being attacked by Artificial Outer Gods wasn't great—if not financially, then in other ways.
‘If you still wish to hand the position of Duke to me after everything is settled, Brother, I will succeed you then.’
Philian gazed out the window, recalling Gillan’s words.
And then, a thought suddenly occurred to him.
‘Ah, I want to learn magic.’
In truth, he hadn't been very interested in magic before.
The reason?
He simply had no interest in magic as a field of study, and at the same time, he was so obsessed with the sword that nothing else even entered his sight.
But lately, Philian had been paying a great deal of attention to magic.
And that was entirely because of Marquis Palatio.
“…….”
Philian closed his eyes.
The moment he did, he saw it—
The image of Marquis Palatio summoning a god to deal with the Artificial Outer Gods.
The image of the Marquis blocking the meteor shower in the sky.
And finally, the sight of that brilliant, radiant line created at the Marquis’s fingertips.
“Wow—”
Recalling that moment, Philian let out another exclamation of awe.
It was already his 23rd time today.
Lately, he spent his days retracing the magic the Marquis had used and marveling at it.
He thought about it almost all day, yet he never grew tired of it.
Beyond just not being tired of it, whenever Philian recalled the Marquis, he felt like he was returning to the innocent child he was when he first picked up a sword.
To that extent, Philian had come to admire Marquis Palatio.
No, more than just admiring him, Philian had reached the point where he was looking up 1st Tier grimoires.
Because he had started wanting to learn magic.
By doing so, Philian wanted to become like Marquis Palatio.
Of course, since he wasn't an actual child, Philian knew that if he achieved greatness as a Sword Master, he could become as strong as the Marquis.
He had the talent, after all.
But that wasn't what Philian wanted.
It wasn't just about "becoming strong."
Philian simply wanted to be like the Marquis.
Like the Marquis who used magic in that gray world.
“…….”
Of course, Philian knew well that it wouldn't be easy.
The Marquis’s magical skill was on a completely different level from any mage he had ever known, and above all, the two eyes floating behind the Marquis gave him the certainty that the man was an incredibly powerful mage.
But even so, Philian still wanted to achieve greatness as a mage.
Even though he could fully expect how difficult that path would be, and even though he feared he might never reach the end.
That was why, despite having reached the level of a Sword Master, he had begun to learn magic.
“…It would be nice if I had talent for magic too.”
The moment he muttered that wish—
“Ah.”
A thought suddenly struck Philian.
‘…Should I build a statue?’
It was a completely random thought.
A thought that arose because he admired Marquis Palatio so much.
However.
“…It might not be a bad idea?”
Since it was true that the Merkillan Territory continued to exist because Marquis Palatio had saved it, Philian nodded to himself with a thoughtful hum.
In that brief moment, after a conclusion that was neither particularly rational nor logical formed in Philian’s head—
‘Well, this much should be fine before I hand the position over to my brother…?’
He stood up as if he had made his decision.
And exactly one month later.
A statue of Marquis Palatio using magic was erected in the central plaza of the Merkillan Territory.
It didn't take long for that news to reach the ears of Alon, who was suffering from mana poisoning.
“…A statue of me?”
“Yes.”
“…Why are they putting up a statue of me in the Merkillan Territory…?”
“Well, how should I know…?”
“…….”
Alon was left speechless, and most of the other nobles who heard the news were equally bewildered.
Even if the Marquis had saved the territory, building a statue seemed a bit excessive.
However, that was only by the standards of other nobles.
“…A statue?”
“Yes.”
“…Hmm—”
One of the Five Swords of Calliban, Deus Macallian, muttered as if he were truly envious.
“…I’m jealous.”
“Pardon…?”
“Should I do it too…?”
“Excuse me…???”
…The Vice Commander was once again at a loss for words as he watched Deus, who turned strange whenever the Marquis was mentioned.