Raising Villains The Right Way
It’s been two weeks since Alon set out for Terea to attend the ball.
“Finally arrived, have we?”
“Looks like it.”
The distant landscape of the capital began to come into view.
Evan, standing nearby, exhaled as if overwhelmed by the heat.
“After this ball, are we heading to Lartenia and then straight to Colony again?”
“That seems to be the plan.”
“I see.”
“You seem disappointed about something.”
When Alon looked curiously at Evan’s face, Basiliora interjected.
[Heh, judging by that expression like a dog needing to pee, it must be about a girl.]
“What nonsense are you spouting now?”
[Don’t deny it. I saw you pulling a letter out of your pocket a few days ago and smirking creepily.]
“Ugh—you saw that—when!?”
[Aah, the nights when Evan’s gaze feels so nostalgic—]
“Waaaargh!!”
Evan screamed at the top of his lungs as Basiliora began dramatically reciting the contents of the letter.
Alon, watching Evan’s face turn crimson, gave him a peculiar look. Evan, embarrassed, calmed his breathing and soon managed an awkward laugh.
“Haha, well, you see… When we visited the Zenonia duchy last time, I met a lady knight. We… got along quite well.”
“So, you’ve been exchanging letters, I take it?”
“Yes, yes, something like that.”
Alon, observing the embarrassed Evan, asked quietly.
“You seem more flustered than I expected. Haven’t you been in relationships before?”
“Well, that’s true, but….”
Evan, who had always followed Alon closely while chatting and laughing with all sorts of women, now seemed different.
But there was a hint of grievance in Evan’s voice.
“This feels… different, you know?”
“In what way?”
“Those were just light conversations, but this… feels more like something deeper. Maybe… a step beyond mere flirting?”
[Hmph, how sickening.]
“Don’t ruin the mood, you snake-headed bastard! And you, haven’t you been flirting with our family’s maid?”
[W-What?! Flirting?! When did I ever—! I only chatted with her because she seemed so eager to serve me!]
“Yeah, right. Didn’t you do all sorts of antics whenever she brought you snacks?”
[Krrrrgh!]
Basiliora began writhing in embarrassment at the sudden exposure of his “dark history.” Seizing the opportunity, Evan launched an attack.
Amidst the racket, Blackie peeked his head out from Alon’s chest to watch the two bicker and chatter noisily.
Before long, the group arrived at the capital.
‘Terea hasn’t changed a bit.’
Their carriage crossed the well-maintained, thriving streets of Terea and entered the inner city.
When they arrived in front of the ballroom, Alon stepped out of the carriage.
“Marquis Palatio, before attending the ball, His Majesty requests an audience with you.”
“…? Very well, let us proceed.”
As if waiting for him, a guard approached and delivered the message. Alon tilted his head in curiosity but followed behind the guard.
At the invitation of the Queen, Alon entered her private office after a long time.
“It’s been a while, Marquis Palatio.”
“Have you been well, Your Majesty?”
There she was, greeting him with the same ambiguous smile as always—Queen Siyan.
“Please, sit.”
She gestured to the chair in front of her.
Once Alon was seated, the queen once again took out a sweet potato and placed it before him.
“You may eat it.”
“Ah… Yes. Um, Your Majesty…?”
“I shall simply watch.”
“…Understood.”
Thus began another sweet potato eating session.
By now, one would think he’d have grown accustomed to this, but it was as baffling as ever…
For a while, only the sound of Alon munching on the sweet potato echoed in the office.
“You still eat well.”
“My apologies.”
At Siyan’s ambiguous comment, Alon cautiously bowed his head.
“Hm?”
He halted his movement, his gaze fixed on a statue at the edge of his vision.
A statue positioned in one corner of the office.
Though it was undoubtedly the first time he had seen it, it felt strangely familiar.
“Ah, are you referring to this?”
Noticing his stare, Siyan picked up the statue.
“It’s a sculpture brought from Luxible.”
“…Luxible, you say?”
“Yes. I’ve heard they revere the figure depicted in this statue as a god. That is to say…”
Siyan paused briefly before uttering a name.
“‘Bearer of Lightning,’ Kalannon, was it?”
“…I’ve heard about that as well.”
“Then, have you seen this statue before?”
“No, this is my first time seeing it.”
At Alon’s response, Siyan gazed at the statue in her hand with interest.
“This is my first time seeing it too. It was brought as a gift from the Duchy of Luxible.”
“I see.”
“So, what do you think of it?”
“…What do you mean, exactly?”
“This statue, I mean. To me, this Kalannon figure resembles you quite a bit. What’s your take?”
She asked, tilting her head slightly.
***
Sergius stared blankly ahead.
There, the party led by Eliban stood face-to-face with Cardinal Yutia.
The group had dealt with numerous strange phenomena outside the Papal Basilica.
“You’ve done wonderfully this time as well.”
“All of it is thanks to the power granted by Him.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, without His power, none of this would have been possible.”
Amid the crowd of priests, Yutia and Eliban exchanged pleasantries.
Time passed, and soon Eliban spoke again.
“Until next time, Cardinal Yutia.”
“Yes, Chosen, I look forward to seeing you again.”
Yutia handed over the reward for dealing with the disturbances to Eliban.
“All for His sake.”
“Yes, all for His sake.”
After their farewells, the Chosen led his group out of the Papal Basilica.
Sergius, having confirmed the dismissal of the priests after the event, habitually followed behind Cardinal Yutia.
Cautiously, he opened his mouth.
“…Excuse me.”
“Hmm? What is it, Cardinal Sergius?”
As always, Yutia gazed at him with a gentle smile.
Sergius, caught in her calm gaze, hesitated before finally speaking.
“…Yutia, may I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
Receiving her permission, Sergius hesitated again.
Even with her consent, he wasn’t entirely sure whether it was wise to ask what was on his mind.
He knew better than anyone else—having “experienced” it firsthand—that questioning Cardinal Yutia was a reckless endeavor.
But despite knowing that, Sergius couldn’t suppress the curiosity and doubt that had been relentlessly building in his mind.
“It’s about… the Chosen.”
“…The Chosen, you mean?”
“That person… didn’t receive their power from Sironia, did they?”
Sergius recalled the ‘Chosen’ whom Yutia had previously acknowledged as having been selected by Sironia.
Indeed, their power bore a striking resemblance to the divine energy Sironia was known to bestow.
The faint radiance they emitted also resembled the subtle glow exuded by saints.
The priests who observed Eliban earlier had seemed convinced that he had been chosen by Sironia.
The other cardinals had shared the same belief.
But Sergius alone—
‘It was clearly different.’
He realized that the divine energy Eliban radiated wasn’t Sironia’s.
He vividly recalled the sacred power Eliban had displayed.
A pure silver-white glow, faintly tinged with blue.
It only appeared similar to Sironia’s divine energy but was entirely distinct.
At that moment—
“Heh.”
Yutia let out a soft chuckle, as if amused.
Sergius was now certain his suspicions were correct.
“You’ve noticed, I see. I was a bit worried because it’s still unrefined, but I thought I’d fooled everyone except the saints.”
Yutia’s candid acknowledgment left Sergius silent.
Ordinarily, Sergius should not have been able to discern the truth.
The holy power wielded by that ‘Chosen’ was undeniably similar to the divine energy bestowed by Lady Sironia.
In fact, apart from the saint currently engaged in relief efforts, none of the other cardinals detected the slightest inconsistency.
But there was one reason Sergius could perceive the disparity.
It was solely because of Cardinal Yutia.
Having long been treated as little more than a servant by Cardinal Yutia, Sergius knew one crucial fact:
Yutia not only used the divine power of Lady Sironia but also drew upon another form of holy energy.
Granted, Sergius had only witnessed Yutia using this other divine energy a few times.
But for someone of Sergius’ stature, seated as a cardinal, those few occurrences were enough to recognize that Eliban’s holy energy closely resembled Yutia’s “other” divine energy.
…The Chosen was not a being selected by the goddess Sironia.
He had reached that conclusion.
“How did you figure it out?”
The chilling question sent a shiver through Sergius, but he steadied his racing heart.
“…The divine power Yutia briefly displayed was identical to that of the Chosen.”
“Hmm~ I see, that explains it.”
Yutia nodded as though she had pieced together the situation. Her crimson eyes turned toward Sergius again.
“Still, it seems you haven’t realized everything yet.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Never mind—more importantly, you don’t need to concern yourself with this matter too much.”
“…Is that so?”
“Yes. After all—”
Yutia’s eyes softened into a faint, unsettling curve.
“Soon enough, it’ll all be the same. So much so that even you, Cardinal Sergius, won’t be able to tell the difference.”
“…The same…?”
“Yes. Everything will become the same. The holy power, this and that—right now, they may appear a bit different, but eventually, all of it will be indistinguishable.”
Sergius couldn’t comprehend a single word of what she had just said.
What, exactly, would become the same?
What did “this” and “that” refer to?
And what would happen in the future?
Above all—
What was Cardinal Yutia plotting right now?
The only thing Sergius could deduce from the information he had so far was one unsettling possibility:
…Perhaps the recent silence of Lady Sironia had something to do with Cardinal Yutia.
It likely did.
But even if that were true, there was nothing Sergius could do about it.
“…In a way, things might actually improve,” Yutia mused.
“The current Rosario is rife with corruption, after all. When that time comes, everything will be better.”
No, Sergius couldn’t do anything.
“Corruption and injustice will vanish. All the holy knights will act for ‘Him,’ all the believers will worship ‘Him,’ and everyone will offer their faith to ‘Him.’”
He—
Sergius—
Had already been overwhelmed by the suffocating fanaticism that swirled within Yutia’s eyes.
“But before that happens… if word of this spreads, it could become a little troublesome… so, I ask you~”
Again and again, Sergius had been overpowered—until he ultimately submitted.
“Keep quiet, will you, Cardinal Sergius?”
In the shadowed halls of the papal basilica, under the waning light of the setting sun, Yutia pressed her index finger to her lips, backlit by a flickering crimson glow.
“…Understood.”
Sergius could offer only one response.

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