Chapter 34

Chapter 34

In the northern territories, a desolate expanse of bitter cold and ashen soil stretched to the horizon. This was the recent site of a conflict between an Outer God and the Count of Asteria. Now, the landscape had been transformed into a vast cemetery, the eternal home for the expedition members whose bodies could not be recovered.

Clunk—

A figure draped in a black religious garment stood there, dark, foreboding ornaments chiming softly at his waist and wrists. His face was obscured by his hood, yet he gave the impression of carefully examining his environment.

“…?”

“…?”

He contorted his mouth, appearing baffled by the circumstances. Yet, after a few more moments of observation, a subtle, intrigued smile touched his lips.

“Fascinating.”

His voice, oddly buoyant, felt out of place in the bleak scenery. It resonated with a complex, multi-layered quality, making it impossible to distinguish if it belonged to a man or a woman. His slow, sweeping inspection of the area concluded when his eyes fixed on the ground. This was the precise location where the Outer God had disappeared and where Alon had rightfully struck his blow in a duel.

He gazed silently at the spot and murmured, “Let us observe how far this proceeds. Shall we watch?”

After uttering these ambiguous words, he turned away decisively, as though his purpose here was complete. And so, the gray land, inhabited only by tombstones, was once again abandoned to absolute solitude.

***

Five months had elapsed since an endless stream of presents began arriving at Palatio County, the seasons having turned from spring to the bright, temperate days of summer. The air was warm, yet the climate was better described as “agreeable” than sweltering.

Just as the deluge of gifts accompanying Alon’s magical research was starting to ebb, two significant responsibilities emerged for him.

The first was the re-emergence of the lost city of Kahara. After relentlessly pursuing leads through the guild, Alon had promptly received news that the hidden metropolis had been located in the desert. While the guild’s communication merely stated that adventurers had uncovered a concealed city, Alon, drawing on his previous intelligence, readily recognized it as the forgotten city of Kahara. This meant that all that was left was to leave the colony, and he would finally obtain the knowledge he had been pursuing.

However, rather than journeying to the desert city, Alon was currently traveling in the opposite direction, toward Teria, the capital of Asteria. This was due to his second obligation: the Grand Assembly, a triennial event that all nobles were required to attend.

“Are we nearly there?”
“We should be arriving shortly,” answered Evan, who was sharing the carriage with Alon, glancing up at the bright sky.
“I hope we aren’t.”
“But if we increase our speed any more, it will become problematic.”

Alon acknowledged Evan’s statement with a nod. The carriage was already moving at a remarkable pace for an unpaved road, jostling unusually fast.

‘I’d prefer to avoid the scrutiny that comes with a late entrance…’

Having miscalculated the travel time, Alon now faced the prospect of being tardy for the Grand Assembly. Behind his impassive expression, he sighed inwardly. He was sorely tempted to abandon the entire affair and direct the carriage back toward the colony, but regrettably, that was not a choice. Similar to the social functions he had attended before, the Grand Assembly was a compulsory gathering for every noble in Asteria, held every three years.

‘Why do such regulations even exist?’

Although Alon had scoured records for a method to excuse himself, he understood the rationale behind the rule.

‘Is this a communist state…? Oh, it’s a monarchy, so perhaps it is…?’

Yet, understanding the rule’s origin did not change his opinion. He had no interest in aligning with any of Asteria’s political groups, not in the past and especially not now. Joining a faction was fundamentally about creating adversaries within the kingdom, something Alon wished to avoid.

Naturally, having enemies could yield advantages, but none of those were things Alon desired. Money, for example, had become plentiful thanks to his “eternally grateful” servant, Deus.

‘…There was a period when the excessive gifts felt like a nuisance, but now, circumstances are quite comfortable.’

In any case, Alon saw no upside to joining a faction given his current aspirations, so he had deliberately avoided them from the beginning.

“Evan.”
“Look, the capital is now visible.”

As if anticipating Alon’s words, Evan replied swiftly. Alon turned his attention outside the carriage and saw the capital of Asteria, Teria, appearing on the horizon.

“Ah.”

Teria’s degree of advancement was notable, surpassing any other kingdom Alon had visited to date. While he had only seen around five estates and one other capital, Caliban, the disparity in development, aside from the sheer size of the territory, was not immense.

As he stared vacantly at the sight of the capital…
“There it is.”

Spotting the Grand Assembly building in the distance, Alon felt a familiar nervous dread, akin to a university student dashing to a lecture ten minutes behind schedule. His face stiffened with apprehension at the idea.

“Hm…?”

However, the moment he stepped into the assembly hall, Alon tilted his head in puzzlement. Even though the meeting should have already commenced, a great number of nobles remained outside, mingling casually instead of going inside.

‘What is happening…?’

Alon pondered this briefly but quickly let the thought go. Instead, he felt a wave of relief that he would not have to suffer the icy glares of a late arrival. He hastily descended from the carriage, anxious to get inside.

***

A short time later…
“Phew—”

Evan, who had driven the carriage to the assembly under such a tight deadline, released a sigh of relief as he observed Alon.

Alon, walking toward the Grand Assembly with a slightly quickened step, seemed to be in a rush. To an outside observer, however, it might have simply looked like his natural stride was long.

But Evan, having been at Alon’s side for over seven years and approaching eight, could perceive that Alon was more hurried than he appeared.

‘Well, I suppose that’s one of the few things I can discern about him.’

Despite the many years spent with Alon, there remained much that Evan did not understand about him, which left him feeling somewhat dissatisfied.

“Huh?”

Evan soon wore a look of confusion. The nobles, who had been conversing with each other just moments ago, began to follow Alon into the assembly hall as he strode purposefully ahead of them.

Of course, this wasn’t completely strange. It was plausible they had simply lost track of time while talking and only now noticed they were late.

However, that was not the source of Evan’s bewilderment.

‘Wait, are they all following the Count?’

The nobles gathered near the Grand Assembly building weren’t in one group; they had been dispersed all around, from the stairs to the entrance. In other words, the nobles who realized they were late only needed to make their way to the door.

But…
‘This can’t be… is this truly occurring?’

Alon, too preoccupied with his own relief at not being late and avoiding the anxiety of a tardy student, didn’t appear to notice. But every single noble was now walking in behind him.

Clunk—
“…???”

When Alon finally reached the top of the stairs and entered the assembly, it created the distinct impression that he was leading all the nobles inside. Evan, watching from the rear, could only gaze in stunned confusion.

***

Meanwhile, as Alon entered the assembly hall, comforted by his timely arrival, he finally got his first proper look at the interior. It was shaped in a circular form, reminiscent of a parliamentary building he had seen on television in his former world.

The only significant difference was that the seating was divided into three clear sections, presumably to keep the factions separated from one another.

‘The left side must be the Royalists, and the right the Nobles’ faction.’

Alon glanced at the nobles seated on the left and right, then noticed the many unoccupied seats in the center.

‘It seems this is where the independent nobles sit… but are there truly this many unaffiliated nobles?’

A look of confusion passed over Alon’s face, but only briefly. Becoming aware that eyes were slowly turning in his direction, he instinctively moved to take the rearmost seat. However, when he turned his head in response to the stares he felt from behind, he was taken aback.

For there, looking directly at him, were the nobles. They were all watching him with expressions that seemed to question, ‘What are you doing right now?’

‘Wait, weren’t all of you just outside…???’

With a perplexed look, Alon started to move forward, aiming for a seat somewhere in the middle of the section.

“…Ah.”

Seeing the nobles still wearing those same ‘What exactly are you doing?’ expressions, Alon finally understood why the nobles had been waiting outside the assembly hall despite the time.

‘Could it be because they didn’t want to sit at the front?’

It was an almost absurd notion, something that made sense back in his university days. Having never attended a grand assembly like this, neither in the game nor in real life, Alon had no option but to sit at the apex of the triangular seating arrangement—the spot unmistakably intended for the head of a faction.

The moment Alon took his seat, the sound of nobles following suit and sitting down filled the hall, confirming his suspicion.

‘…Now I understand why they wouldn’t want to sit here.’

Alon subtly looked to his sides, observing the two faction leaders who were also seated at the points of the triangle, just like him. On one side was Duke Limgrave, head of the Royalist faction, and on the other was Marquis Filboid, leader of the Noble faction. One could be described as a gracefully aging middle-aged man, the other as a middle-aged man hardened by life’s difficulties, but the powerful presence they emitted was undeniable.

It wasn’t magical energy, of course. It was more the weight of individuals who had guided their factions for a long time, having endured numerous challenges.

‘They are staring quite intently.’

Just as Alon was beginning to comprehend why the nobles avoided the front seats, the man in the center, who resembled a clergyman more than a noble, glanced at Alon and the other faction leaders and started to speak.

“Let us now begin the Grand Assembly.”

‘I hope this concludes swiftly…’ Alon thought as he turned his head. Doing so, he noticed Duke Altia seated directly behind him. Unlike the last time he had seen her, she now exuded an aura of enigma and fascination.

“And before we commence the assembly’s proceedings, we wish to announce that the newly formed faction, ‘Kalpha,’ will now possess voting rights in Asteria’s Grand Assembly.”

It was one of those rumors Alon had relegated to the back of his consciousness, sure it was inconsequential. But now, he recalled—this was the day the faction of Lady Zenonia and Duke Altia was being officially launched.

“And now, Count Palatio, as the representative of the Kalpha faction, do you have anything to say?”
“…What?”

In that instant, Alon comprehended that he had, somehow, become the leader of the shadowy faction established by Duke Altia and Lady Zenonia.