Chapter 64: It Was There, But Now It’s Gone (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 64: It Was There, But Now It’s Gone (5)
The nobles' faces were etched with confusion.
The aristocrats who had followed Alon into the hall looked equally bewildered. Even those who had expected the King to suppress Kalpa’s growth were left in a state of stunned dismay.
However, they weren't the only ones wearing such expressions.
“……??”
Alon, the very person who had just heard those words from Cretenia Siyan, was also questioning the reality of the situation.
A Marquis?
For a noble, a 'title' carried immense weight.
It was essentially a social rank, and the title of Marquis would grant Alon far more power than his current rank of Count. It affected everything—from the size of his territory to the number of private soldiers he could maintain.
Furthermore, it removed any sense of incongruity regarding his position as the head of a faction. Although Alon was already the leader of Kalpa despite being a Count, that was an anomaly; by the traditional rules of high society, it was virtually impossible for a mere Count to sit at the head of a major faction.
In truth, Kalpa’s current structure was quite bizarre.
But if Cretenia Siyan elevated his rank to Marquis, that structural oddity would vanish instantly. In other words, instead of keeping Kalpa in check, Cretenia Siyan was effectively helping them.
What is she playing at…?
Alon couldn't help but look up at her with a dazed expression.
Siyan, however, remained nonchalant, resting her chin on her hand as she spoke.
“I have heard the reports. You eliminated the rot lurking in the shadows of Asteria. This is your reward.”
Her voice rang out calmly.
While her statement was logically sound, it didn't dispel the mystery. There was no reason for her to be so fair and generous to him in the first place.
It feels like she’s just using this incident as an excuse to promote me to Marquis.
Alon stared at the King.
…Is she so confident that she can crush Kalpa whenever she wants, no matter how much it grows?
A rational hypothesis flashed through his mind. He stared intently at her face, hoping to read her thoughts, but her expression remained one of absolute apathy. Not a single flicker of emotion could be found.
It was then.
“Why? Do you dislike it?”
Alon snapped back to his senses at the sound of Siyan’s voice.
“Not at all, Your Majesty,” Alon replied, bowing his head.
At that, Siyan showed a faint smile—the first he had ever seen from her—and rose from her throne.
Tap, tap—
With light steps, she walked over and stood before Alon.
She leaned down, meeting the eyes of Alon, who had looked up. Then, she reached out with her index finger and poked the right corner of his mouth, pulling it upward.
“……?”
Alon was forced into a lopsided smirk by her finger.
To any observer, it was a bizarre sight, but the woman who had caused it simply gave a thin smile.
“Smile. It looks much better on you.”
With those words, she withdrew her finger from his cheek.
The King looked at the stunned Alon with her unique Golden History Eyes shimmering, appearing quite satisfied.
“I shall retire now. The rest of you, enjoy the banquet.”
With that final command, she turned away as if she no longer had any business at the ball.
Creeeeeak—! Thud!
The massive doors opened and shut, leaving the ballroom in a heavy silence.
Alon stared blankly at the spot where she had vanished.
…What just happened?
He was more confused than ever.
* * *
After the King departed.
The long silence that had gripped the ballroom slowly began to give way to a renewed liveliness. However, the atmosphere was the exact opposite of what it had been moments ago.
The nobles of the Royal Faction and the Noble Faction, who had arrived expecting Kalpa to be put in its place, all looked as if the world had ended.
Conversely, the nobles who had followed Alon into the hall were grinning ear to ear, busy praising themselves for choosing the right side.
And Alon, who had effectively become the protagonist of the evening, was besieged.
“My sincerest congratulations, Count!”
“Hey, why call him Count?! He’ll be a Marquis soon!”
“Ah, you’re right. My mistake—”
Regardless of whether Alon responded or not, the surrounding nobles were busy fawning over him.
“As expected, Count Palatio—no, Lord Marquis—is truly remarkable.”
“Indeed. To think he managed to win over the King in such a short time…”
Alon felt the burdensome gazes and the misplaced admiration of Duke Altia and Count Zenonia.
In such a short time…? I don’t even know how it happened myself, honestly.
Alon turned his confused gaze back toward the door Siyan had exited.
What is going on…?
He tried to recall every piece of information he knew about the eighth monarch of Asteria, Cretenia Siyan. But no matter how many times he went over it, Cretenia Siyan was not the type of person to act like that.
…She doesn’t care much for state affairs, but she’s supposed to be someone who ruthlessly cuts down anyone she deems a threat to the throne. And what was with that smile?
Alon thought back to the smile she had shown him.
As far as he knew, Siyan was a character who never smiled in any illustration or narrative within Psychedelia. By personality, she was the quintessential indifferent character.
…Something is definitely strange.
Just as Alon was tilting his head, realizing that things were taking an odd turn.
“…….”
From a corner of the room, Marquis Philboyd watched him, surrounded by fawning nobles.
Count Palatio…
Marquis Philboyd unconsciously gritted his teeth.
Six months ago, despite kneeling before the Count, he had been dragged off to the Holy Kingdom. There, he had been locked in a strange isolation cell and subjected to a month of what could only be described as torture, though not quite as severe as what Duke Rimgrave faced.
Because of that, he had been eagerly anticipating today. He, too, had believed Alon would pay the price for recklessly expanding his faction.
But contrary to his expectations, the King had granted him the title of Marquis, effectively legitimizing his faction.
How on earth…!
Gritting his teeth as he glared at Alon, Marquis Philboyd let out a heavy sigh. There was nothing he could do now that things had turned out this way.
However, having already suffered retaliation, he wasn't about to sit back and do nothing.
If it’s come to this… I have no choice but to meet those guys!
With a look of grim determination, Marquis Philboyd turned and began to walk away.
* * *
Five days later.
Just as Alon was beginning to think about leaving for the Colony after sampling every snack provided at the week-long ball, Marquis Philboyd was already arriving in Pakason.
Pakason was a territory within the Ashtalon Kingdom, located close to the border of Asteria.
Normally, such a move would have attracted unwanted attention, but he was safe for now. From the moment he had been dragged to the Holy Kingdom, he had lost most of his political power and was no longer the head of a faction.
In other words, no one cared about a toothless tiger like Marquis Philboyd anymore. He was able to reach his destination without worrying about anyone’s eyes.
Upon arriving in Pakason, he headed straight for an entrance leading to the basement of a slum on the outskirts of the territory.
“Whew.”
He let out a sigh as he stared at the overtly gloomy underground entrance. Then, setting his jaw, he stepped inside.
He had heard that 'The Agent'—a person who would kill any noble or royal as long as the price was met—could be found here.
As he descended into the basement.
“Tsk.”
He frowned at the sight of the gambling den, filled with the rowdy voices of thugs and acrid smoke, but he kept moving. The person he sought would be further inside.
Moving deeper into the gambling den, he recited a passcode to a man blocking the way and then, without hesitation, opened the heavy door at the end of the hall.
And then.
“……?”
“Huh?”
Inside the room, Marquis Philboyd saw a young girl.
To be precise, he saw a girl with brilliant blonde hair and an innocent expression.
“…….”
And beside her, a headless corpse lay mangled on the floor.
Marquis Philboyd frowned slightly, but he didn't recoil in horror or run away. He had been warned about the bizarre traits of the Agent before coming here.
…I heard she was a fierce beastkin who enjoyed desecrating corpses, but this is more revolting than I imagined.
He quickly smoothed his brow. He had to make a request to the Agent before him.
“Who are you?”
The Agent’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.
It was a voice filled with innocent curiosity. The Marquis regained his composure, momentarily struck by how different the Agent’s appearance was from what he had expected, despite the presence of the corpse.
But that was only for a moment. He opened his mouth.
“I have come to make a request.”
“A request?”
“Yes. I wish to commission the assassination of Count Palatio.”
Recalling his contact’s advice that the Agent hated beating around the bush, the Marquis stated his business immediately.
And then.
Shiver—!
“Heh—”
Marquis Philboyd realized beyond a shadow of a doubt that the beastkin before him was indeed the Agent.
The moment he mentioned the target, the face that had been wearing an innocent smile just a second ago changed.
“So—”
Her lips twisted into an amused smirk.
“You’re saying you came here to commission the assassination of Count Palatio?”
Her eyes had become infinitely cold.
Faced with those chilling golden eyes that seemed to stop his very breath, the Marquis felt his knees tremble and unconsciously swallowed hard.
“That is correct…”
At his confirmation, Seolrang nodded several times, her blonde hair swaying.
“I see. That’s how it is? But, what should we do?”
“What do you—?”
“The person who was supposed to take your request… is right here.”
She gave a cheerful shrug.
Confused by her words, Marquis Philboyd followed the direction of Seolrang’s gauntleted finger. When he saw her pointing at the corpse with the shattered head, he let out a low gasp.
“Ah.”
Only then did he realize that something had gone terribly wrong.