Chapter 48

Chapter 48
Count Zenonia stared, utterly bewildered.

Before her, Marquis Filboid, the head of the noble faction and a political force to be reckoned with, was bowing his head to Count Palatio.

‘What in the world…?’

Although Count Zenonia had spent much of her past in the underworld before establishing Kalpha, she was not completely unaware of the political landscape.

The Zenonia family had, on occasion, navigated between factions for their own gain.

Yet, even for someone with no political background, this sight was staggering.

Among nobles deeply involved in politics, those who held substantial power never bowed to others.

Unlike the underworld, where a show of respect could hide a coming betrayal, the noble political sphere operated on justification, principle, and prestige.

Such a gesture was never made without immense consequence.

In a world where those three pillars dictated everything, bowing to another meant handing them a powerful advantage, both within one’s own faction and in the eyes of all.

‘How is this possible…?’

Count Zenonia shifted her gaze to Count Palatio.

Even though Marquis Filboid was effectively admitting his surrender, Palatio’s face showed no sign of shock.

It was as if this was the result he had expected from the very beginning.

A tingling sensation ran through her fingertips, and Count Zenonia couldn’t suppress a slight smile.

‘Just as I thought. He is extraordinary.’

Of course, she had no clue what method Count Palatio had employed to bring the Marquis to this point, and truthfully, she couldn’t even begin to guess.

But the sheer display of power was what captivated her, so she could only regard Count Palatio with profound respect.

‘…What is going on?’

Meanwhile, Alon watched the bowing Marquis Filboid in complete confusion.

Silence hung in the air.

Alon wasn’t silent by choice; he was simply struggling to process a situation he did not understand at all.

‘Did I do something?’

Alon, who had even forgotten about the financier cake in his mouth, racked his brain but soon gave up.

No matter how much he thought, he couldn’t recall taking any action, and besides, he had been far too preoccupied to even consider dealing with the Marquis.

‘…Could a rumor be the cause?’

Naturally, Alon began to explore other possibilities.

‘Now that I think about it, there have been those recent rumors about my connection with Seolrang.’

He thought of Duke Altia and Count Zenonia, who were aware of the gossip spreading from the Colony, but he quickly dismissed that idea.

While it was true other nobles had treated him with more deference since the rumors started, it still didn’t explain why the leader of a faction would bow merely because of Seolrang.

As Alon cycled through one theory after another, he arrived at a single, inescapable conclusion.

‘What on earth did these two do?’

Alon cast a subtle glance toward Duke Altia and Count Zenonia, both of whom were staring at him with intense focus.

Even with his limited political knowledge, he understood the profound absurdity of a faction leader bowing in this manner, leaving Alon to stare back at the two women in a daze.

‘…Ah.’

He suddenly remembered that the two women behind him were destined to become two of the three hidden powers of the Asterian Kingdom.

‘I need to tread carefully.’

Just as Alon finished this thought,

“Truly, I am defeated…”

Marquis Filboid, the faction leader who had never been seen bowing in public, lowered his head even further and pleaded for mercy.

There was no trace of shame or anger on the Marquis’s face.

Instead, it was contorted by pure fear.

The source of his terror was a single letter he had received a few days prior.

Shortly after Duke Limgrave had been taken to the Holy Kingdom following his receipt of a conversion letter, Filboid had received a letter of his own.

The letter’s contents were sparse.

It contained only a small magical orb and a single sentence.

But that orb and that one sentence were enough to fill Marquis Filboid with bone-chilling dread.

Because the magical orb, designed to play a video once, had shown:

[A-ah, I truly know nothing. Forgive me, please forgive me~!]

The image of Duke Limgrave, trembling uncontrollably as if having a seizure, strapped to a white chair, desperately repenting.

After the orb finished its playback, it shattered into dust, leaving only the letter behind.

[You’re next.]

That single sentence was written there.

But that alone was more than enough to terrify Marquis Filboid, and he could easily surmise where this retaliation was coming from.

‘Count Palatio…!’

Marquis Filboid could not comprehend how Count Palatio had forged connections within the Holy Kingdom that surpassed even the high-ranking cardinals they had bribed.

However, that was not the pressing issue.

What mattered was that Duke Limgrave, his co-conspirator in the plot to ruin Count Palatio, had been caught in the backlash, dragged to the Holy Kingdom, and broken.

And he had been designated as the next target.

Had he not received that letter, Marquis Filboid would never have bowed to Count Palatio.

While receiving a conversion letter was a serious political matter, as long as one wasn’t actually consorting with heretics, there was little personal risk.

But Duke Limgrave had suffered this fate despite having no links to heresy.

In other words, it was almost certain that the Duke’s destruction was solely the work of Count Palatio’s machinations.

Unwilling to be taken to the Holy Kingdom and share the Duke’s fate, Filboid, consumed by relentless fear, ultimately bowed his head.

“Please, I beg of you~!”

And he didn’t just bow—he fell to his knees, pressing his forehead to the floor in a full prostration.

It was a desperate plea, conveying his willingness to abandon his political career and live out his remaining years in quiet obscurity.

In response,

‘Incredible…!’

‘Just as one would expect from the Count…!’

Count Zenonia and Duke Altia looked at Alon with eyes full of veneration.

‘…Remarkable. What could he possibly have done?’

Alon looked back at Count Zenonia and Duke Altia with a slightly troubled expression.

That very day,

“…I will give it some thought.”

Alon, muttering words even he didn’t fully grasp, exited the ballroom under the watchful eyes of everyone present.

This incident thoroughly erased the lingering suspicion that Count Palatio might be merely a proxy leader, a figurehead allowing Altia and Zenonia to operate freely, which had persisted since Kalpha’s foundation.

***

Approximately three days after the debate had commenced, Alon departed the Verityun estate and began traveling east.

The objective of this journey was to attend the Magic Society, the primary reason for his trip.

Because of this, he left the debate, which still had about two days left, and on the fifth day of his travel toward Blugill, the territory near the Magic Society mentioned in Liyan’s letter,

Alon heard from Evan that Marquis Filboid had finally been served with a conversion letter.

“So he was taken away in the end…”

“Huh? Wasn’t that your doing, Count?”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do I look like I had time for that, when I was with you the entire time?”

“Well, that’s true…”

Evan hesitated before voicing his suspicion.

“Lately… whenever I see you, Count, I get the feeling you’re concealing something.”

“Me? What would I be hiding?”

“I’m not sure… just, things related to magic and other matters. Not long ago, you claimed you weren’t involved in anything, and now you’ve suddenly become the leader of a faction.”

Alon paused in thought for a moment before answering,

“…Becoming the leader truly was a coincidence.”

“Is it even possible to become a leader by coincidence…?”

As he briefly contemplated the sheer absurdity of his situation,

“It looks like we’re almost there.”

Evan, with a calm expression, indicated that they were approaching Blugill, a territory of the Kingdom of Ashtalon located close to the Magic Society.

Soon after, Alon met Liyan, who was waiting at the prearranged location with other mages from the Red Tower.

“Greetings, Count.”

“It’s good to see you.”

Unlike before, Liyan offered a courteous bow, and they proceeded directly to the Magic Society.

Having taken a carriage immediately upon arriving in Blugill, they reached the central tower while daylight still remained.

“Wow… it’s enormous,” Evan exclaimed in awe the moment he saw the central tower.

Alon was similarly impressed as he looked up at the structure.

Of course, he had seen many drawings of the tower while playing Psychedelia, but the real thing was entirely different.

‘Isn’t this taller than Lotte Tower?’

The sheer presence of such a colossal edifice in a fantasy world, far surpassing the in-game visuals he remembered, left him feeling overwhelmed.

As he compared the tower’s scale to massive buildings from his own world, he wondered how long he had been standing there, staring upward.

“It is truly large, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Shall we go inside?”

Alon entered the tower alongside Liyan.

“To my knowledge, the Green Tower is scheduled to present the new theory they recently developed on the first day. After that, there will be a small friendly competition. Then, tomorrow—”

Alon listened to Liyan’s explanations as they walked.

“There don’t seem to be as many people as I anticipated.”
“Well, this isn’t the main event of the Grand Conference.”
“The Grand Conference?”
“Oh, did I neglect to explain that?”

As Liyan began her explanation anew, Alon nodded in comprehension.

“So, to put it simply, the Grand Conference is the assembly where all the Tower Masters gather.”
“Correct. Because of that, the Grand Conference usually attracts a great many mages. This one is no different.”

As Alon nodded again, taking in this new detail that hadn’t been part of the game,

“Hah, these fools, honestly.”
“What? That’s far too extreme!”
“Extreme? If they can’t even comprehend this much, they are absolutely fools. Don’t you agree?”

Hearing a familiar, irate voice coming from one side of the central tower, Alon’s eyebrows lifted in curiosity. Liyan let out a deep sigh.

“It seems someone is picking a fight with the Blue Vice-Tower Master again.”
“The Blue Vice-Tower Master?”
“Yes. I’m sure you’re aware by now, but she holds herself in very high regard, so she’s probably started another argument.”

Recalling the previous occasion when Liyan had openly expressed her contempt for the Blue Tower, Alon was about to ask her a question when,

“Hey! Let’s have a rematch!”
“What is there to redo, you imbeciles? Do you genuinely believe you can defeat me? What, will you bring twenty people this time because ten weren’t enough?”
“Hey!!”

From the direction of the friendly competition area, a group of furious mages emerged, led by Penia, who wore an open smirk as she walked.

“Huh?”

Suddenly, Penia noticed Liyan and curled her lips into a taunting grin.

“Well, well, look who it is. If it isn’t the half-baked mage who couldn’t even stand her ground against me last year?”

Her provocation was blatant.

Liyan furrowed her brow and glared at Penia, who simply laughed as if Liyan’s anger was insignificant.

“What’s this? Did you bring a friend this time to help you face m—”
Her eyes moved to the right.
“Uh…?”
She froze.
“?”

Her face lost all color.

Just moments ago, Penia had been deriding everyone around her as inferior, but now she seemed to have completely shut down. Liyan, bewildered by the sudden transformation, stared at her in confusion.

“H-Hello…!”

The words that finally escaped Penia’s lips left Liyan speechless.

She had used formal, polite speech.

The fact that Penia, whom Liyan had never imagined using such language, was suddenly speaking so deferentially left her utterly stunned.

And then,

“It’s been some time. How have you been?”
“Y-Yes, sir!”

Penia, who was infamous as a notorious delinquent among mages despite her public reputation as a genius, responded like a soldier called to attention.

Not only Liyan, but the group of angry mages who had followed Penia were also struck silent, staring at Count Palatio, who had just accomplished the impossible before their very eyes.