Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Two years had gone by since Alon had secured the freedom of all the Five Great Sins, which also meant it had been four years since his correspondence with Yutia began.

The original story was now six years from commencing.

Count Palatio had died.

His death was officially recorded as heart failure.

Yet, anyone with ties to the Count’s household or access to reliable information would have known the true cause.

It was a drug overdose.

In a manner befitting the grim nature of a dark fantasy world, Count Palatio had met his end.

No one, however, grieved for him.

The servants and retainers received the news of his passing with a quiet acceptance.

This was to be expected, as the Count Palatio had been a shattered man, racing toward the finish line of his life in a haze of rampant substance abuse. Any other outcome would have been surprising.

Furthermore, his existence had been squandered on a life of vice, devoted to women and narcotics. Not a single noble offered condolences after his death.

This sentiment extended to his two remaining sons. The eldest, Leo, had long seen this coming and felt nothing.

Instead of mourning, Leo appeared more concerned with his ongoing struggle against the Blue Moon organization, constantly in talks with his loyal retainers about the matter.

Alon shared this indifference.

From the start, his father had ignored the open torment he suffered at the hands of his elder brothers. In fact, since Alon had come to inhabit this body, he had never once spoken to the Count.

Theirs was a relationship of mutual apathy.

Thus, the Count’s death passed in silence, without a single tear, and quietly reached its conclusion.

A week after the Count’s passing, the Palatio family adhered to its longstanding custom of not appointing a new head within the same year as the previous head’s death.

Still, little truly changed.

Ever since Alon had taken over this body, Count Palatio had been inactive, leaving the retainers to run the family affairs while they enriched themselves.

And at this point, Alon…

“Young Master, I have to say, it’s truly remarkable.”
“What is?”
“…To reach the 2nd tier in only two years, without enrolling in the Magic Tower or studying under a master… do you believe that is a reasonable display of talent?”

Alon had taken up magic for self-protection.
‘Though it’s rather incomplete.’

Alon watched the three small spheres of electricity spinning in his palm before dismissing them with a soft exhale.
‘It’s good that I have the talent, but still…’

Two years prior, upon discovering his gift for magic, Alon had been elated.
In the world of Psychedelia, the ability to wield magic was a rare and innate gift.
Moreover, Alon’s magical aptitude was quite extraordinary.

Considering that a mage typically required around four years to attain the 2nd tier, achieving it in half the time without formal instruction was a significant feat. While not the talent of a legendary prodigy, he was still an uncommon case of someone advancing so far through raw, natural ability.

Even Alon himself could feel that his control over mana was far more precise than that of his peers.
The act he had just performed—levitating three electric spheres and setting them into orbit on his palm—was a pointless trick, but one that demanded extremely refined mana control.

‘…If only my mana core were larger.’

This was why Alon considered his talent “incomplete.” His natural mana core was significantly smaller than average.
Not just slightly smaller—it was drastically so.
While a mana core could be expanded through persistent training, Alon’s was so unnaturally diminutive that he held little hope for substantial growth.

A mana core is much like one’s physical build; it is something one is born with.
‘If it comes to that, I do have a way, but…’

As Alon moistened his lips in thought, Evan inquired,
“Young Master, what are your plans now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, next year, the first son—I mean, the eldest young master—will become the family head, won’t he?”

Evan, having nearly used a derogatory term out of habit, quickly corrected himself. Understanding the question, Alon replied,
“I will leave.”
“…You intend to leave the estate?”
“Not entirely. I’ll just take a lower posting.”
“A lower… do you mean Rodmill?”
At Evan’s question, Alon gave a nod.
“Correct.”

Rodmill.
Geographically, it was a village located roughly four days’ journey south of Palion, the seat of Count Palatio’s territory. It fell under the Count’s jurisdiction and was experiencing modest prosperity.
“I plan to relocate there.”
“…Why?”
Evan asked, unable to comprehend the reasoning.

Though Evan might not see the logic, this move represented the final stage of Alon’s design.
From the very beginning, his objective had been to rescue the Five Great Sins from their suffering, alter the future, and live out his days in comfort as a noble in a world where the United Kingdoms remained intact.
‘In that regard, Rodmill is a perfect choice.’

First, a mansion belonging to the 3rd Count Palatio was located there.
Second, the village was in a state of moderate development, making it unlikely that Leo, the soon-to-be Count, would pay it much mind before his demise.
Third, it was sufficiently distant from the Count’s estate—a four-day journey—ensuring Alon could remain detached from the hero’s tale of justice and vengeance when the original plot began.

In essence, by moving to Rodmill, Alon’s plan would be successfully concluded.
Finding it tedious to explain all this to Evan, he offered a brief response instead.
“Everything has its season.”
“…Young Master, you always say that when you don’t wish to elaborate.”

Alon saw no need to answer Evan’s comment. Instead,
“Since we’re discussing it, we should begin packing.”
He started making preparations for the move to Rodmill.

***

Precisely one month later,

Leo, the eldest son of the Count Palatio family and a prominent underworld figure as the leader of Avalon, was deep in thought as he watched his younger brother depart the estate in a carriage, accompanied by a knight.
‘What should I do?’

Whether to have Alon killed or not.
To be honest, Leo did not perceive Alon as a significant threat.
It had always been that way since their childhood.

Whereas the late Tonio had always been a danger, showing his teeth in the struggle for succession, Alon had always been preoccupied with keeping his head down, constantly watching others and avoiding conflict.
Certainly, something about him had shifted slightly over the past few years, but his fundamental demeanor had not changed.
Even now, Alon had voluntarily chosen to move to a remote area to avoid provoking Leo’s displeasure.
“Hmm…”

In truth, Leo had initially planned to discreetly eliminate Alon, having him die of a drug overdose concurrent with their father’s passing. But since Alon had opted to depart for Rodmill of his own accord, there was no longer a need to proceed.

Alon had willingly stepped aside for Leo and showed no signs of becoming an adversary.
There was no longer any justification for killing him.

Yet, the eldest son continued to deliberate.
Ironically, his hesitation stemmed from no particular reason.
It wasn’t a fear that Alon would seize the heirship from the outskirts.
Nor was it disgust at Alon’s subservience as a family member.

In fact, Leo had never felt any familial bond with Alon, or with any member of the Count’s family, for that matter.
Ultimately, the reason Leo debated killing him was simply that Alon irritated him.

A month ago, when Alon had approached him, head bowed, and declared his intention to go to Rodmill, it had inexplicably gotten under his skin.
Perhaps it was because he had just received news that one of Avalon’s branches had failed to meet its quotas, putting him in a foul mood.
Whatever the cause, Alon’s life now hung in the balance.
“Alman.”
“Yes.”
“Follow the carriage quietly.”

In less than a minute, Alon’s fate was decided.
From Leo’s perspective, Alon was someone he could eliminate on a mere whim.
So, with that mindset, he issued the order.

But the man who appeared behind him suddenly asked,
“…Do you mean to kill him?”
“…?”
“…?”

Leo felt a flicker of confusion.
Two years ago, this young man had demonstrated his usefulness and, after many tests, had become one of Leo’s trusted subordinates. He was not one to question an order.
When Leo commanded, he obeyed without question, without hesitation.
“Do you think family means anything to—”

So, despite a slight frown, Leo began to speak, intending to correct what he assumed was a misunderstanding.

Stab!
“…?”

But instead of words, blood poured from Leo’s mouth.
He spat crimson, his face twisting in shock as he tried to process what had just happened.
Still struggling to comprehend, Leo looked down.
A blade had been driven through his heart.
“B-betrayal—”

His eyes began to blaze with fury, but the man who had stabbed him replied impassively.
“This isn’t betrayal. I was never your loyal subordinate to begin with.”
“W-what are you talking about…?”
“I was merely waiting for you to give the order.”

With that single statement, Leo’s expression, contorted with rage and confusion, began to shift to one of horror as a single face surfaced in his mind.
The face of Alon, the third son of the Count’s family.

But even then, Leo could not understand.
After all, Alman—no, Hidan—had been at his side for over two years.
He had trusted Hidan enough to keep him close, even allowing him to guard his back for more than a year.
This meant Hidan could have killed him at any time he desired.

So, with eyes full of disbelief and confusion, Leo stared at Hidan, who finally provided an explanation.
“We do not act without orders. We are merely the sword of that person, moving only as that person directs us. This is our creed, the unbreakable law instilled in us by the Red Moon. But—”

Crack!
“Gaah!”
“…When someone attempts to harm the Great Moon, our swords will move of their own accord.”

Shlick!
“And that is the only reason you have been permitted to live until now.”

With that, Leo fell to the ground, his face striking the dirt, but his eyes still burned with rage as he fought to speak.
“My… men… they… won’t—”
“Do not worry. The moment you gave that order, Avalon was fated to be erased from the continent.”

Hidan, a member of the Blue Moon organization and one of Yutia’s direct subordinates, continued,
“…It is a pity. The Great Moon offered you a chance.”

With these final words, Hidan turned and walked away.
Leo never understood their meaning and died soon after.
A cold, emotionless death.

***

Three days after his arrival in Rodmill, Alon was summoned back to the Count Palatio estate.
The reason was the death of Leo, the family’s eldest son.

And following this inexplicable death,

Alon, who had been calmly toasting bread in a secluded part of the mansion due to the lack of servants, was urgently recalled to the estate.

By that time, he had already acquired a new epithet that people murmured in cautious tones:

The Hidden Power of the Count’s Family.