Chapter 101

Chapter 101
Though Alon’s head still swam from the eight successive assassination attempts by Deus, the dizziness passed quickly.

As Alon made his way through the crowds of mercenaries and adventurers to the jungle’s perimeter—

“Hm?”

Hearing a voice he recognized, Alon turned.

“…Count—no, Marquess Palatio?”

“Liyan Aguilas?”

It was Liyan Aguilas, the daughter who led the Red Tower.

“It’s been a long time, Marquess. And congratulations on your new title.”

“It has been a while. Thank you.”

Liyan smiled warmly, then her gaze shifted and her eyes widened in recognition.

“…Could that possibly be who I believe it is, behind you?”

“Deus Macallian.”

Noting that Liyan appeared to know Alon, Deus gave a short introduction.

Liyan released a soft, impressed sound and studied Deus with a curious expression before quickly collecting herself.

“Ahem—so, what are you two doing here together?”

Alon quickly understood the two questions hidden in her words.

‘Since we’re from different nations, it must seem unusual for us to be journeying together like this.’

Moreover, Deus’s reputation was widely known.

“Our individual goals are not the same, but we’re traveling together to handle some matters in the jungle,” Alon clarified.

“Ah, I understand. So, is it just the two of you?”

“No, there are three of us,” Alon corrected.

Hearing that, Liyan made an offer.

“Would you like to join our group, then? We are also heading to our camp.”

“Hmm…”

Truthfully, with Deus present, the risk of danger seemed minimal whether they traveled as three or with a larger party.

Still, the chance of getting lost or facing unexpected events couldn’t be entirely dismissed.

“That sounds acceptable.”

Alon agreed.

Soon after, Liyan presented the members of her party to Alon.

The group was made up of fifteen magicians, five mercenaries, and one guide.

However, something about its makeup was unusual.

“…They aren’t all from the Red Tower?”

“Officially, it’s a combined force from the Green and Red Towers. This mission is a joint effort between the two,” Liyan explained.

Just as Alon nodded at this—

“What’s going on here?”

A somewhat rough voice sounded nearby.

There stood a man holding a staff as tall as himself, looking exactly like Alon’s idea of a classic magician.

“Theon, come and greet our guests,” Liyan called.

Though he frowned, the man approached, giving Alon, Evan, and Deus a swift appraisal before speaking.

“Introduce yourself. They’ll be coming with us to the camp. This is Marquess Palatio and Deus Macallian.”

“What?”

Theon’s eyes widened in shock for just an instant.

“Greetings. I am Theon, a professor at the Green Tower. You must be the renowned swordsman of Caliban and Marquess Palatio, correct?”

He recovered swiftly, offering a polite bow to Deus and Alon.

“…A pleasure to meet you.”

“…Yes, likewise.”

After letting his gaze linger on Alon for a moment, Theon abruptly turned and walked away.

“He’s quite young to be a professor. That’s impressive,” Evan remarked, seeming aware of the typical age magicians reached before earning such a title.

Liyan nodded in agreement.

“That’s right. The Green Tower sees him as a rare talent. He’s not even twenty-five, but he’s already approaching the fifth rank.”

“Wow, the fifth rank?”

“Yes,” Liyan confirmed, drawing another murmur of admiration from Evan.

Alon, meanwhile, stayed quiet, his face neutral.

After a pause, he spoke under his breath.

“…Why does it seem like his coldness is directed only at me?”

While Alon wasn’t usually bothered by abrupt behavior, the shift in Theon’s manner after learning his name felt strange.

“Ah…”

Liyan appeared to grasp the situation and offered an uncomfortable smile.

“Well, it isn’t really a serious matter.”

“Not serious?”

“Well, you see…”

Liyan paused briefly, checking that Theon was well ahead of them, then leaned closer to whisper.

“You know those rumors about you, Marquess?”

“Rumors?”

“Yes, the ones concerning Penia.”

“Ah.”

“The truth is, Theon has feelings for Penia.”

“What?”

Alon turned to look at Theon in genuine astonishment.

Penia was undoubtedly beautiful—that much was clear.

But her personality was the problem.

Alon knew her temperament was so destructive it completely eclipsed her looks.

“He likes that Penia Crysinne? That impossible woman?”

Bewildered, Alon questioned her with a disbelieving expression.

“…You’re saying that man is fond of Penia?”

“Yes.”

“But why…? No, wait. Is it rude to ask?”

“Not at all. To be honest, I don’t really get it either,” Liyan admitted, glancing toward where Theon had gone.

“Especially since Theon was once completely humiliated by her.”

Liyan’s face showed her own confusion, but she shrugged it off quickly.

“Anyway, it seems he’s just acting a little immature because of that.”

“…Alright, I understand,” Alon said, deciding not to pursue it further.

Normally, he might have wondered why a grown man would indulge in such petty envy, but his curiosity about Theon’s odd conduct outweighed any deeper thought.

‘…Is he a masochist?’

Just as Alon reached that conclusion—

“Marquess—”

“There’s no need for that.”

Deus, who had been waiting for a chance to speak, was immediately cut off by Alon, who answered firmly without even hearing the rest.

“…Understood.”

Deus reluctantly moved his hand away from his sword’s hilt, a look of disappointment on his face.

“Deus.”

“Yes, Marquess?”

“Have you been hearing voices or having unwanted thoughts recently?”

“…? Not at all,” Deus replied, appearing genuinely confused.

Despite the denial, Alon’s concern only grew.

***

Some time later, Alon and his companions continued on with Liyan’s party toward the exploration camp.

Thanks to their steady progress, they arrived just before sunset.

“…This isn’t what I expected,” Evan commented.

“No?”

“No. I thought it would be more basic, but it’s almost a small town.”

Alon nodded in agreement.

“That’s true. With all the magicians and explorers coming through here, it was bound to grow.”

“Are there no monsters here?”

“It’s not that there are none, but monsters seldom appear where the camps are established,” Alon explained, recalling the lore from the game.

Evan marveled at this, while Alon observed the camp’s layout.

‘It feels different from the drawings I remember.’

Though his memory was hazy, the illustrations of this area in <Psychedelia> had seemed like a standard village. In person, however, the camp felt more like a large, well-ordered settlement—a cross between a vast encampment and a proper town.

The jumble of wooden houses and tents, though arranged chaotically, offered all necessary services, from shops to inns.

As Alon stood absorbed in his thoughts, taking in the view—

“Marquess, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Liyan said, preparing to depart.

“Very well.”

Having learned that Liyan’s destination was also the Malacca Ruins, Alon had arranged to join her group the next day.

“Let’s get some rest for the night,” Alon suggested to the others.

“Sounds good,” Evan agreed.

“Understood,” Deus added.

The party entered an inn to spend the evening.

***

The following day.

The jungle’s persistent dampness had disturbed Alon’s sleep, leaving him somewhat tired.

“I will go search for Reinhardt. I’ll return later.”

“Alright. We’ll meet again tonight.”

“Understood.”

“Do you remember my instructions?”

“If you mean the blessing, yes, I remember.”

“Yes, do your best to obtain it before going further. It’s better to have the blessing if you plan to head in that direction.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Alon and Deus decided to part ways temporarily to achieve their separate goals before meeting up again.

‘I’d prefer to keep him nearby…’

Alon let Deus go without objection, aware that Deus had his own tasks to complete. As long as Deus didn’t enter Selvanus or any unknown territories, his safety was fairly assured.

Soon after, Alon rejoined Liyan’s group without Deus.

“…Will Deus Macallian not be joining us?”

“As I mentioned, our objectives are different.”

“I see.”

Liyan looked somewhat disappointed as they proceeded toward the Malacca Ruins.

‘The sooner we finish in this jungle, the better.’

Such thoughts occupied Alon’s mind as they advanced.

***

At that same moment…

Deep in the dungeons of the Holy Kingdom Rosario—reserved for the most despicable criminals—lay a place called the Abyssal Prison.

Inside that grim location…

A man with no legs, Anderede, was still alive.

Despite the burning pain spreading through his body, his face held a trace of hope.

‘I can’t die yet.’

The reason he still lived—or more precisely, the reason he had been able to inhabit this man’s body—was that the prisoner had been one of the machina components Anderede himself had created.

By implanting root-like structures into those linked to his machina, Anderede had transferred his consciousness into the prisoner’s body just as his original form was destroyed during the Marquess’s assault.

Though his body had been completely broken, preventing immediate escape, this had been part of his backup plan.

In the Abyssal Prison, where no one ever visited except to deliver moldy bread, he waited, slowly recovering his strength and fully taking over the prisoner’s body.

Soon, the prisoner’s face, covered in crimson roots, transformed into Anderede’s own.

His legs, too, began to slowly regrow.

As he confirmed these changes, Anderede clenched his teeth, his eyes burning with determination.

“I won’t allow it to end this way. I will prepare once more… and build a world where everyone is equal!”

Gone was the kind smile or faith he once held. Instead, a madness-driven fixation gave him fresh hope.

At that moment—

“…Huh?”

Anderede saw something.

In the Abyssal Prison, where the thick iron doors should have made entry impossible, stood a man with black hair and sharp blue eyes.

The man smiled innocently as he looked at Anderede.

“Hello.”

The cheerful greeting left Anderede speechless—unable to respond.

He couldn’t make sense of the situation.

But whether Anderede replied or not, the man continued.

“Well, to be honest, I don’t particularly care about what kind of world you’re dreaming of or what you’re trying to accomplish. I’m not even very angry.”

The man’s husky voice held a disturbingly casual tone as he added:

“…But, you see, interfering with His Holiness? Even I can’t overlook that.”

Raising his hand—

Snap!

Anderede realized, too late, that his neck was twisting against his will.

“Wait, no—! No, stop! Stop it! Stopstopstopstopstopstop!”

Desperately, he thrashed and fought, but—

Crack!

His neck completed two full rotations, and death took him.

“That’s what you get for overreaching.”

The man, having extinguished Anderede’s delusional ambitions, walked off into the darkness and vanished.

Left behind was Anderede’s lifeless body, his eyes wide with disbelief.