Chapter 96

Chapter 96
The Office of Duke Komalon, within the Ashtalon Kingdom.

“Did we achieve the desired outcome?”
“The reports indicate success. Though, it appears there were certain imperfections.”
He was listening to a report delivered by a dark elf.
“Imperfections? Explain.”
“To be direct, the manifestation was not entirely perfect. It fell short of the flawless incarnation you initially sought. I believe the deficiency of abyssal entities may be the cause.”
“A deficiency of abyssal entities?”
“Correct.”
Upon hearing the dark elf’s report, Duke Komalon emitted a low hum and sank into deep thought.
“There is one more matter to report.”
“And what is that?”
“The individual who confronted and defeated the synthetic deity of the Holy Kingdom is reported to have been Marquess Palatio.”
“Ha, Palatio again?”
“Yes.”
A dry chuckle escaped Duke Komalon at the dark elf’s words. He then fell silent, pondering deeply, before finally speaking.
“Very well, I understand for now.”
“Understood.”
“Ensure that the current experimental subjects receive a slightly increased infusion of the abyssal essence.”
With a dismissive wave of his hand, he indicated the dark elf should depart.
The dark elf gave a slight bow, turned, and vanished into the shadows. Paying no further attention to the departure, Duke Komalon became absorbed in his own reflections.
“It has been some time.”
He spoke the words aloud into the empty room.
Despite the apparent lack of anyone else, Duke Komalon offered a greeting as if to a visitor.
“Indeed, it has.”
A soft sound of affirmation preceded a figure stepping out from the darkness.
From a spot that had seemed utterly vacant a moment before, a person clad in a black sacred robe emerged, as if they had been standing there all along.
“A long time has passed.”
The figure settled naturally into the chair opposite the duke.
“What is the purpose of your visit?”
In response to Komalon’s question, the figure leaned back comfortably.
“My reason for coming? You are already aware of it, are you not? I grew curious about when you intended to make your move, so I came to inquire.”
“All preparations are finished. We will act as soon as we secure the object within the jungle.”
Komalon’s reply was terse and devoid of emotion.
The figure let out a thoughtful hum at this, their gaze fixed intently on the duke.
A prolonged silence settled between them.
As the tension in the air thickened, approaching a peak—
“I see.”
The figure in the black sacred robe gave a slight shrug, the gesture dispelling the accumulated pressure.
“It is truly remarkable. That you can still operate so effectively in your human form.”
The figure stood and turned to leave.
“Then I will take you at your word. I will trust that you will soon bring about the grand design you have envisioned.”
The robed figure’s eyes flickered toward a patch of darkness in one corner of the office before returning to Duke Komalon.
“And…”
The figure began to walk into the shadows.
“As a precaution, I will offer a warning—be wary of that man.”
“…That man?”
“You know precisely of whom I speak.”
Their tone carried a trace of amusement.
“Count Palatio—or rather, should I now say Marquess Palatio?”
Leaving these words hanging in the air, the figure melted completely into the darkness.
Alone once more in his office, Duke Komalon murmured under his breath:
“Marquess Palatio.”
He repeated the name softly.

***

Having formally concluded his elevation from Count Palatio to Marquess Palatio in the Holy Kingdom, Alon was now traveling at a leisurely pace toward his newly established marquisate.
Under normal circumstances, he would have proceeded directly to Terea after the ceremony. However, he judged it more prudent to first deliver the gifts bestowed upon him by the Holy Kingdom.
Alon glanced back over his shoulder.
Trailing behind him was a line of carriages, heavily laden much like those he had received upon departing Colony.
“I never anticipated receiving such gifts from the Holy Kingdom.”
Alon stared at the wagons, brimming with commodities, and felt a sense of astonishment.
Based on his prior knowledge, completing quests for the Holy Kingdom in the game typically rewarded players with skill books or sacred relics, not material wealth.
“Then again, material rewards are far more practical.”
As Alon contemplated the riches that would soon fill his marquisate’s coffers, a slight smile touched his lips.
Just then, he heard Evan address him.
“Marquess.”
Evan seemed to have grown comfortable with the new title, using it without any hesitation. Alon turned to reply.
“What is it?”
“I was simply pondering—what is the original purpose of the Holy Kingdom holding a conferment ceremony?”
“Well…”
“Do you not know either, Marquess?”
“Hm.”
Alon considered for a moment before giving a shrug.
“It feels more like a tradition that has been maintained over many years. I doubt there is any profound significance behind it.”
“Is that so?”
“That is my understanding, at least.”
Of course, Alon himself wasn’t deeply informed about the tradition. His answer was largely based on a casual remark Yutia had made: “It’s merely an empty formality, but I am happy it allowed me to see you, my Lord.”
“To be honest, it does seem somewhat pointless.”
“I share that sentiment.”
Alon’s attention shifted to the mercenary group marching ahead. More specifically, his eyes found Myaon, who was leading at the front.
He recalled that not long ago, she had happily climbed into his carriage to talk, making the trip far less monotonous. This time, however, she had not approached his carriage once.
And then—
Flinch!
Whenever their eyes accidentally met, she would start slightly, offer an awkward, strained smile and a nod, then swiftly turn her gaze forward again, repeating this pattern continually.
‘What exactly did Yutia say to her?’
Alon could easily surmise the reason for her behavior. A few days prior, he had witnessed Myaon freezing completely, like a mouse trapped before a cat, in Yutia’s presence.
Even when he had tried to ask what Yutia had said, driven by curiosity, Myaon would clench her teeth and assert in an unnaturally steady voice, “She said absolutely nothing.”
By now, Alon had abandoned any attempt to uncover what had transpired.
“Well, if asking only causes her more discomfort, it’s better to let the matter rest.”
Releasing a soft sigh, Alon leaned back in the carriage, nearly reclining.
It was a peaceful afternoon beneath a clear, blue sky.

***

Approximately two weeks later, Alon arrived at the Palatio marquisate. After bidding farewell to Myaon and taking a day’s rest, he promptly began his journey to Terea.
Having traversed the now-familiar landscape, he entered the royal capital and was granted a meeting with Critenia Siyan.
This time, however, the meeting was not held in the grand audience chamber but in Critenia Siyan’s private office.
“I greet Your Majesty,” Alon said, bowing.
“You may rise.”
A voice replied at once.
As Alon slowly lifted his head, the interior of Siyan’s office came into view.
‘Simple.’
The room was strikingly modest. While the furnishings were clearly of fine quality, they were far more restrained compared to the opulent office of the King of Colony that Alon had previously seen. His eyes swept the room briefly.
“I heard you were the savior of the Holy Kingdom,” Siyan stated.
“…That is an overstatement.”
“Is it? Then why is there no dispute about the matter? Ah, but first, please take a seat.”
“……”
“It must be uncomfortable to remain kneeling.”
At her words, Alon carefully rose and sat in the chair positioned before her desk, meeting Siyan’s gaze.
Her golden eyes, a hallmark of the Asterian royal line, held his.
“To continue, there is no need for false humility. While humility is a necessary virtue, in excess it can become an obstacle.”
“Then I will forgo any unnecessary modesty.”
“Please do.”
Siyan smiled with satisfaction, propping her chin on her hand as she studied the marquess intently. After a moment, she appeared to recall something.
“Ah.”
She retrieved an object from one side of her desk and handed it to Alon.
“…What is this?”
“You enjoy sweet potatoes, do you not?”
“Pardon?”
“Do you dislike them?”
“…No, not at all. I do like them.”
“Then take it.”
With a perplexed expression, Alon accepted the sweet potato. For a second, he wondered if he had ever mentioned a fondness for sweet potatoes to anyone. Dismissing the thought, he focused on Siyan’s next words.
“To be candid, the standard procedure would involve a formal ceremony in the audience chamber before sending you on your way. But do you know why I summoned you here specifically?”
“As one who serves Your Majesty, my perception in such matters may be lacking—”
“There is no need for such formality. In other words, you do not know.”
“That is correct.”
At Alon’s response, Siyan nodded and said, “It is nothing of great importance. I called you here merely to converse. The favor I wish to ask is simpler than you might imagine.”
“Might I inquire what it is that Your Majesty desires of me?”
“One month from now, a conference of the Allied Kingdoms will be held.”
“A conference?”
“Yes, essentially a continuation of the discussions from last time. I would like you to accompany me as one of my aides. Is that feasible?”
Alon was silent for a moment before nodding.
“It is feasible.”
Truthfully, participating in the conference was not an unfavorable opportunity for him. The heart of the Allied Nations, Tern, was a location typically restricted to administrators except during central conferences. It also housed institutions like the Magic Society, where he might acquire valuable items.
Even so, he was curious why Siyan had selected him specifically as an aide. Though puzzled, he chose not to question it. In this world, when the king commands, one obeys—that was both the law and an undeniable truth.
“I appreciate your swift agreement,” Siyan said with a satisfied nod.
“Now, eat it.”
“…Eat what?”
“The sweet potato.”
“…Yes?”
“Eat the sweet potato. Do you not plan to?”
“No, I will eat it… but here?”
“Yes, where else would you consume it?”
“Then I will eat it here.”
Though Alon had no understanding of why she was insisting, he nodded and began to eat the sweet potato right in front of her. He barely registered its taste.

***

A few days later, as news began to circulate that Marquess Palatio would attend the Allied Kingdoms’ conference as an aide to Critenia Siyan, two individuals reacted more strongly than anyone else.
One of them was—
“Guild Leader.”
“Hmm? What is it?”
“I have some good news.”
“What is it?”
“It concerns the Allied Kingdoms’ conference you were asked to attend.”
“Ah, has it been canceled?”
The speaker was Seolrang, who was lounging listlessly in the guild leader’s office.
“No, it has not been canceled.”
“Then it isn’t good news. I told you I did not wish to go.”
“But we have received considerable support from the kingdom, have we not?”
“Irrelevant. I still do not want to attend.”
Letting out a long, weary sigh, Seolrang slumped even further, her entire posture radiating profound reluctance.
“Nevertheless, I do have genuinely good news.”
“What is it?”
“Marquess Palatio will also be attending the conference.”
“…Is that true?!”
At the secretary’s words, Seolrang’s previously drooping tail began to wag cheerfully.
The other person who reacted was—
“Commander.”
“What is it, Vice-Commander?”
“I thought you should be informed. Did you hear that Marquess Palatio will be attending the conference you declined to join?”
“What did you say?”
The speaker was Deus, who had been intensely focused on his training after turning down the kingdom’s request to attend the conference.
“Is that accurate?”
“Yes, Marquess Palatio’s attendance is confirmed.”
“I am leaving for the royal capital at once.”
“Then I shall prepare—wait, Commander! At least change into suitable attire first…!”
Without waiting, Deus sprinted toward the royal capital in his training clothes. His violet eyes shone with resolve.