Raising Villains The Right Way
It had already been two weeks since Alon returned to Marquis Palatio’s estate.
During that time, Alon had enjoyed a truly restful break.
Of course, he hadn’t just lazed around.
He devoted most of his time to duels with Kylrus and magic research, though he didn’t find it exhausting.
For Alon, magic research had become as natural as breathing.
Perhaps this was the result of such effort.
“You’ve definitely improved.”
“Have I?”
“Yes. You’re still lacking, that’s true, but the fact you can stand toe-to-toe with me at all is saying something.”
Recently, even Kylrus had started to acknowledge Alon to some degree.
“Well, at least you’re improving. Don’t get carried away by a single compliment. You’re still lacking, especially when it comes to physical mobility.”
Kylrus added that Alon should continue practicing the things he had taught him, and Alon asked as if he had been waiting for the chance.
“I’ve always wondered—why is physical movement important for a mage?”
Kylrus stared at Alon for a moment, then shook his head as if the question was pitiful.
“Don’t ask the obvious. Until now, you’ve always had people around to back you up, so there’s never been any restriction on your spellcasting. But what if you had to fight an enemy alone?”
“Well—”
When Alon hesitated, Kylrus clicked his tongue lightly.
“Remember this: whether wizard or archmage, physical movement is absolutely essential for dodging an enemy’s attack. If you only block or deflect incoming strikes the way you do now, you won’t last long.”
Those words cut straight into Alon.
“...Ah.”
In that moment, Alon realized he had come back to reality.
By the time he pushed the book of old memories aside on his desk—
“My lord.”
“Evan...?”
He flinched when he saw Evan step inside.
His hair was a mess, as though he had rolled on the ground somewhere.
“Did you just come back from a walk or something?”
“A walk wouldn’t leave me in this state, my lord.”
“Then what?”
At Alon’s question, Evan sighed and pointed out the window.
Alon naturally followed his gaze.
“Let go.”
“You let go.”
“I told you to let go.”
“Fine, then we both let go after three seconds.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
“I said let go!”
“You didn’t let go first.”
“If it weren’t for Chief, I would’ve—”
Out there, Seolrang and Ryanga were clutching each other’s hair.
Their eyes burned with fiery hostility.
“...Why are they like that?”
“I don’t know either. I just tried to stop them for a moment, and then I got dragged into it...”
“So you rolled in the forest or something?”
“Exactly. I just got thrown off.”
Muttering to himself, Evan let out a long sigh.
“Well, at least the others seem to be doing fine.”
“The others?”
“Yes. For people who’ve only known each other a week, Deus and Nangwon are getting along quite well.”
“That’s not bad news.”
Alon nodded in relief.
It hadn’t been his intention, nor was it something he had been overly worried about, but deep down he had wondered whether they would get along.
The ones Alon had saved tended to be peculiar in one way or another, for better or worse.
“Well, thanks to that, it seems your statue is about to evolve, my lord.”
“...What?”
“I heard Deus is upgrading it a bit with Nangwon’s help.”
Alon turned his gaze toward the massive statue erected in the middle of the territory.
A statue that stood in a pose reminiscent of some northern chieftain.
“...That thing’s going to become an MK2...?”
No matter how he thought about it, he felt only unease.
He stared at the statue with a worried expression, but only for a moment.
“And over there, too, they look friendly enough on the surface.”
“Over there?”
Following Evan’s finger, Alon saw Yutia, Magrina, Rine, and Historia enjoying tea together.
They smiled faintly, but their eyes were calm and subdued as they conversed.
Meanwhile, only Historia sat with a blank expression, sipping her tea in silence as she watched them.
“...It looks more like a scene of political intrigue among high-ranking officials.”
“That’s what I meant. They only look friendly on the surface.”
“No, they don’t even look that friendly.”
Evan shrugged, then stroked his chin as if something had just occurred to him.
“Now that I think about it, it’s strange.”
“What is?”
“With six people, it’s usually hard to see them all through a single window, isn’t it?”
“Hm... true.”
Just as Evan said, it was unusual to be able to see all six from where they sat.
It was a curious thing.
Nodding, Alon suddenly noticed their movements outside had paused ever so slightly.
“But anyway, my lord, that’s not what I came to tell you. I have two pieces of news. Which would you like to hear first?”
Alon shifted his gaze back to Evan.
When he looked out the window again, it seemed he had imagined it—everyone outside was moving naturally again.
Frowning slightly in puzzlement, he turned fully to Evan.
“What is it?”
“News about Eliban and the Magic Tower.”
“Let’s start with Eliban.”
“They say Eliban succeeded in closing all the Rifts in Ashtalon.”
“...All the Rifts?”
“Yes. Thanks to that, Eliban’s standing lately is no joke.”
Alon couldn’t help being a little surprised.
Basically, even in Psychedelia, the player grows by closing Rifts and then uses that growth to face Sin, but—
He had never once managed to close every Rift in a single region while playing the game.
No, strictly speaking, it wasn’t possible.
No matter how much the player focused on closing Rifts, the rate at which new ones opened was faster than wiping them all out in one area.
And yet he pulled it off.
So it’s physically possible, Alon realized anew, nodding to himself.
“Right, Eliban did seem incredibly famous.”
“That’s inevitable. For years he’s closed a huge number of Rifts without asking for anything in return, and he even handled the Outer Gods.”
“...Huh? Wait, he dealt with Outer Gods too?”
When Alon asked back, Evan nodded.
“Yes. Eliban dealt with Outer Gods right before the recent turmoil, so the rumors didn’t explode, but the count is already four.”
Or was it five? Evan added.
Only then did Alon feel as if a puzzle piece had clicked into place, and his mind eased.
So that’s why no Outer Gods have shown up so far.
He had been thinking about Outer Gods constantly.
After Sin appears, the appearance of Outer Gods is an all-too-natural pattern.
Even so, there were two reasons he hadn’t worried much about them until now.
First, if an Outer God showed up, information would reach him one way or another.
The other reason was a sense of disconnect.
By now, this world was different from the Psychedelia Alon knew.
Anyway, with that in mind—
He hadn’t made it a big issue, but it would be a lie to say the thought never snagged at him from time to time.
Now that a small doubt had finally been resolved, Alon nodded.
“Anyway, because of all that, Eliban’s fame is probably greater than yours, my lord. People are basically calling him ‘Eliban the Savior.’”
“I suppose I’ve been a bit oblivious to rumors.”
“Well, you only care about information you actually want, my lord.”
Evan let out a soft ah and then added:
“Oh, and lately Eliban’s been saying something a little strange.”
“What is it?”
“He brings it up out of nowhere, so nobody’s sure what he means. But what I’ve heard is... ‘Only a god can take my life.’”
After a brief thought, Alon replied.
“Isn’t that just a metaphor for his strength? Like, ‘Unless you’re a god, you can’t kill me.’”
“Most people do take it that way, but because it’s so out of the blue, it’s become even more of a talking point.”
While Alon thoughtfully stroked his chin, Evan continued.
“Now, about the Magic Tower.”
“Right, you said there was Magic Tower news too. What happened?”
“Something did happen.”
“Something bad?”
“...Mm, there’s one good thing and one ambiguous thing.”
“Start with the good.”
“They succeeded in deciphering one of the Second-Order spells.”
“That’s certainly good. What’s the ambiguous part?”
“They’re saying you should come to the Tower, my lord. They want you to see for yourself what it is.”
“Come and see for myself?”
“Yes. That’s what Heinkel said.”
Though puzzled, Alon nodded.
Either way, if the deciphering of a Second-Order spell was done, he needed to visit once.
So he nodded, but only for a moment.
“Is that all you had to report?”
“That’s it... Ah, there’s one more thing.”
Evan cleared his throat.
“What is it?”
“In about a week, all the partner candidates should be selected.”
“Really? That’s faster than I expected.”
“Ahem. According to Alexion, the young ladies responded faster than expected.”
“Is that so? Even so, I don’t recall hearing that anyone actually arrived.”
Alon tilted his head.
“Well, they might have come for a quick interview and left right away.”
“Could be.”
“Anyway, you can make your decision around then.”
Since Evan spoke as if it weren’t a big deal—
“Got it.”
Alon simply nodded.
“Hoo—”
Miren, a noble of Caliban and the daughter of the Duke of Padrima, exhaled softly as she gazed toward Marquis Palatio’s estate in the distance.
As the duke’s daughter, she had met all kinds of nobles, but she had never felt this tense.
She was here for an interview to become Marquis Palatio’s partner.
Of course, some might say there’s no need to make such a fuss over an interview to be a marquis’s partner.
But that only applies when the marquis in question is ordinary.
If the other party is Marquis Palatio—
The story is very different.
Marquis Palatio.
Leader of Kalpha, the largest faction in Asteria, and a man with countless epithets—
A man who possessed truly tremendous power.
He might have been a little late in the marriage department for a man, but that didn’t matter much to Miren.
From the start, what she wanted was the marquis’s power and wealth.
“All those letters I sent without a single reply—looks like they’re finally paying off.”
Smiling, Miren silently praised her past self for writing letter after letter despite receiving no answers.
If she hadn’t kept casting her line at him, this chance would never have come.
“Hoo—”
She steadied herself with a deep breath, briefly recalling her secret plan.
“Lady Miren, we’ve arrived.”
She stopped thinking, put her smile back on, descended gracefully from the carriage, and headed to the interview room.
“Welcome, Lady Padrima.”
“Hello, Sir Alexion. As I wrote in my letter, thank you so much for granting me this opportunity.”
She began the interview with a warm smile toward Alexion.
About thirty minutes passed in a very pleasant atmosphere.
Because of the Padrima ducal house’s unusual political position, she had frequented the intrigue-filled political arena from a very young age. In other words, playing the role of the “proper young lady” Alexion wanted wasn’t hard for her.
“This should be sufficient.”
“Oh my, do you think so?”
“Yes. Thank you very much for applying. If it’s not inconvenient, would you care to stay a few days?”
“If you would be so kind, I won’t refuse.”
At Alexion’s courtesy, the young lady decided to stay at the marquis’s for a day.
Truth be told, she had come in a bit of a rush and was feeling the travel fatigue.
Soon, guided by a servant, she entered a huge villa next to the marquis’s estate.
“Then, please call if you need anything—”
“Understood.”
After confirming that the attendant bowed and left, a moment later—
“Lady Miren.”
“What about the servants?”
“I dismissed them all. Just in case, I also used an artifact that activates a masking spell to prevent anyone from eavesdropping. There shouldn’t be any chance of sound leaking outside.”
“Thank you for being thorough.”
“It’s nothing.”
The maid bowed and stepped out with, “Please call me anytime you need anything.”
Miren watched her go with an approving look.
Once she confirmed the sky had taken on the colors of dusk, she infused mana into a crystal orb the maid had prepared earlier.
And—
[ Miren. ]
Seeing the Duke of Padrima through the crystal, she bowed her head quietly.
“I trust you’ve been well, Father.”
[ I have. How did it go today? ]
“You needn’t worry—it went well.”
[ I’m relieved. ]
“As I’ve told you many times, there’s nothing to worry about.”
At Miren’s light, laughing tone, the duke exhaled thoughtfully and said:
[ I’m not worried about you. What I’m worried about is— ]
“The other candidates, correct?”
[ Yes. I don’t know some of them at all, but according to my private sources, a few of the others are quite formidable. ]
A shadow fell across the duke’s face.
But in response to his concern—
“I know. You told me, Father. But there’s truly no need to worry.”
She wore a vivid smile—no,
“I know the candidates are formidable. But in the end, this isn’t a contest of who holds the stronger power. Power won’t be that attractive to Marquis Palatio anyway. In that case, what’s left is—”
She smirked.
“A contest of who can wrap a man around her finger better, isn’t it?”
[ ...Right. You are, after all, the one they call the Flower of Caliban. I don’t think you’ll come up short. ]
At his assent, Miren covered her mouth with her hand, smiling with her eyes.
“So please don’t worry too much, Father. Ensnaring a marquis whose marriage is already overdue isn’t that hard for me. Even if it takes time, as long as I can get into his heart—”
Everything will become ours, she murmured softly, and touched the “something” tucked inside her bosom—
The very thing that, over the last few years, had earned her the title “Flower of Caliban.”
She wore a smile that had, before she knew it, turned chilling.
However, if there was one thing she didn’t know—
It was that, despite the masking spell, those words—
“How amusing.”
“...Indeed.”
“Hm—so a bug has latched onto Master.”
“Mm.”
“How dare she, such blasphemy...!”
—someone was listening.

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