Chapter 21 - Grand Social Gathering (1)

Alon already had a fairly good idea why the nobles were openly looking down on him.

'All those false rumors have died down, after all.'

Until now, the nobles had feared Alon because they believed he was the mastermind who had wiped out Leo and Avalon, which controlled the vast eastern underworld, in one fell swoop. But they no longer considered him a mastermind. He had done nothing in the years since becoming count.

House Pallatio had been known as a pack of utter scoundrels since his grandfather's day, and there had never been a time when it did not exert influence over the underworld. The circumstances varied with the times, but it was always House Pallatio that controlled the eastern underworld.

Since Alon became count, however, the house had ceased exercising that influence. As a result, the eastern underworld had been carved up and devoured by packs of jackals that had previously subsisted on leftover crumbs beyond Count Pallatio's territory.

Not only that, House Pallatio's strength—its political power—was also waning, which was only natural. Almost all its power had been built on wealth procured from the underworld.

After becoming count, Alon had stopped throwing money around to maintain that power. He did not want to become a big shot through dazzling success in the underworld. All he wanted was the comfortable daily life he could enjoy as a noble.

In other words, he already had everything he wanted.

But as he withdrew entirely from the underworld, rumors naturally began circulating among the nobles: perhaps the current Count Pallatio was no mastermind at all, but had truly become count by sheer chance.

As time passed and Alon continued to do nothing, that rumor came to be accepted as an established fact. Ultimately, his reputation had fallen from the "mastermind of the count's house" to "an immature brat who lucked into a count's title."

Of course, a few nobles still harbored suspicions about Alon, but even they had recently begun coming around to the prevailing rumor. Common sense dictated that if he had the power to destroy Avalon overnight, it made no sense for him to leave it unused all this time.

For those reasons, Alon had more or less expected this sort of treatment. He simply had not expected them to go out of their way to come mock him.

"..."

Alon looked up at the two nobles, whose faces alone looked mean-spirited. He did not recognize either of them, of course. But the crests on their carriages made it easy to identify one as belonging to House Kryld and the other to House Edoron.

'They both look old enough to know better. Isn't this a little too childish?'

Alon gave a disbelieving chuckle at their somewhat weathered faces. Soon, though, he easily realized why they had come all this way to taunt him.

'... Now that I look at them, they're a victims' support group.'

House Pallatio was both a house of scoundrels and a family with immense power in the underworld. Naturally, it had bestowed certain benefits on the surrounding houses, but it had also worked them far harder than necessary.

House Kryld and House Edoron were the ones it had treated as easy marks, ordering them about. In short, houses that had once suffered at House Pallatio's hands were now venting their resentment on Alon.

Of course, it had not been Alon who exploited them, but Leo, the house's eldest son, or the previous Count Pallatio. Alon had absolutely no reason to endure their mockery.

But to the two nobles busily taunting him, what mattered was not that he was Alon, but that he was Count Pallatio.

"I take it all those underworld troops disappeared because you couldn't manage them?"

"Your carriage doesn't seem properly maintained, either. Shall I lend you a little money?"

The two counts were doing their utmost to get under Alon's skin, like the anonymous trolls so common on online forums.

"Hmm."

For a moment, he thought they were pissing him off a little. Then Alon decided to follow reason rather than instinct.

If he fought them now, he could slaughter both nobles before him... Well, perhaps not slaughter them, but certainly beat them to a pulp. Still, that would obviously make things troublesome.

The moment he fought the two nobles, he would have to leave the group and travel separately. That might invite trouble from bandits he otherwise would not have had to deal with.

Besides, getting Alon to rise to their provocation was clearly exactly what they wanted.

'There's no need to play along with their little games.'

Alon chose to ignore them. He was not stupid enough to walk into a trap when they were practically begging him to do so.

That day, Alon ate two ears of corn, using the counts' chattering taunts as background music.

'Delicious.'

Roasted corn tasted wonderful in the slightly chilly weather.

'If only I had some butter.'

Alon gazed at the moonlit night, his thoughts drifting.

####

The uneasy coexistence continued for several days afterward. Every evening, Count Kryld and Count Edoron crawled out to make mocking remarks, and each time Alon ignored them as though it were nothing worth noticing.

One side ignored the other; the other desperately hurled insults to avoid being ignored.

Naturally, the side doing the ignoring always won.

Alon had already internalized one of the special lessons he had learned from a certain online community: "Don't feed the fucking idiots." No one here, at least, could beat him.

Of course, after this had gone on for days, other nobles began sneering at Alon for remaining silent despite the two counts' taunts, or disparaging him for failing to uphold a noble's dignity.

But Count Kryld and Count Edorn, the ones continuing to mock him, were not feeling particularly pleased themselves.

"... That damned brat."

"Unbelievable..."

Count Kryld frowned at Alon in the distance. They were plainly mocking him, yet he was ignoring them instead. How could that possibly feel good?

But their foul mood passed soon enough. With quiet sighs, they began talking.

"Did you check?"

"I did. As expected, there don't seem to be any additional guards."

In truth, Count Kryld and Count Edorn had openly taunted Alon partly to vent their anger, but also to investigate his escort.

"... Even when I secretly checked with an artifact, there was nothing. It's definitely just that immature brat and that lout of a knight beside him, sharing a table with a noble."

"Then the rumors really are true."

"It seems certain. If he had troops, he wouldn't be traveling alone."

"Then we can proceed with the plan."

The reason the two counts had been investigating Alon all this time was to make their own entry into the underworld.

They knew that all manner of jackals were flocking there because Alon paid it no attention whatsoever. The rumors about him were already treated as fact, but after suffering countless times at Count Pallatio's hands, they wanted definite confirmation that Alon truly had no power.

After several days of checking and confirming that he truly had no further escort, smiles crept onto their lips.

"The Holy God smiles upon us."

"Indeed. To think we would have the chance to enter the underworld..."

Most nobles were reluctant to become involved in the underworld, but these two were different. Having served as Count Pallatio's lackeys, they already knew that astronomical sums of money circulated there—and just how sweet the power it offered could be.

Already excited by the knowledge that House Pallatio truly had become an empty husk, they spoke as though they had conquered the underworld.

In fact, taking over the underworld was not impossible if the two joined forces. The reason their houses had never set foot in it was not a lack of strength, but their fear of displeasing Count Pallatio.

After talking at length, they turned their gazes toward Alon.

"... Once we take over the 'other side,' shouldn't we give that brat a present, too?"

"An excellent idea. There's a limit to how much one can ignore what people say."

"Isn't it all because he doesn't know how frightening the world can be? We need only teach him."

"You are a kind man, Count Kryld."

The two counts wore brazen, sinister smiles unbefitting nobles, as though their own actions had never happened. They were certain their opportunity would come before long.

Just as they finished their private conversation and were about to return to the camp where the other nobles had gathered—

"Monsters!"

It happened without warning.

Monsters appeared under cover of darkness. They had remained utterly silent, as though lying in ambush like humans. When a soldier happened to discover them and shouted, monstrous shrieks began rising from the forest as though they had been waiting for the signal.

At once, the mercenaries and knights drew their weapons to protect the nobles, moving as if by prior agreement.

Then—

"Mage, give us visibility—!"

One noble had extravagantly retained a mage on his estate purely to show off at this Grand Social Gathering. In response to the knight's call, that mage sent a sphere of light into the sky.

"—"

The mercenaries and knights, who had been clamoring only moments before, all fell silent.

As the mage's Light illuminated the dark forest, what they saw were goblins.

Common in forests, goblins had only the strength of young children. Any mercenary who was not a complete novice could handle them easily. Frankly, they were not dangerous monsters.

Their rusty swords and bows were certainly dangerous, but posed no great threat to seasoned mercenaries and knights. Goblins became troublesome only in large numbers, and even then, a few dozen could be driven off without much difficulty.

But...

"... Holy shit..."

When there were enough to fill the entire forest before them, they were undoubtedly a threat to knights and mercenaries alike.

Adding to the knights' tension was the fact that the goblins before them were anything but ordinary.

"... What the hell is that?"

The knight who spoke with bewilderment and fear was still looking at a goblin. The problem was its grotesquely deformed appearance.

Purple crystals were growing all over its body, including its head.

Like a plague.

And on top of that—

"Fuck—isn't that Mark?"

Amid the countless goblins, a bloated goblin held the body of a seasoned mercenary who had been posted outside to keep watch for unexpected trouble. His corpse had been ravenously torn into and eaten.

"GRRR..."

At the sight, the mercenaries felt fear slowly rising within them.

"Th-that can't be..."

Mark, now a mangled corpse, had been a seasoned mercenary who could ordinarily dispatch dozens of goblins alone without difficulty. That he had died without even managing to warn them of these enormous goblins' approach told the mercenaries one thing:

The mutated goblins before them were anything but ordinary.

The knights gripping their weapons alongside the mercenaries also understood that the situation was far from good. Even if these were merely hundreds of ordinary goblins, the knights would be at a severe disadvantage.

It might have been different if they were on their own, but now they had nobles to protect. Goblins possessed the cunning intelligence to exploit that vulnerability easily.

Moreover, while the mercenaries seemed frightened only by the goblins' appearance and their comrade's death, the knights, who could use mana, clearly recognized that the goblins before them contained mana within their bodies.

They knew that even a small amount of mana enhanced a monster's physical abilities. As they watched the goblins prepare to charge with eerie cries, dismay crossed their faces.

CRRRUNCH!

A wall made of stones and gravel rose amid the goblins.

Every gaze instantly swung toward it. Just as the mage who had cast Light recognized the rising wall as Rock Wall, a third-tier spell—

HUMMM!

A translucent barrier formed outside the wall. It was the second-tier spell Shield.

The knights' expressions shifted from dismay to puzzlement. As the goblins' menacing gazes all focused on the wall, a calm voice rang out.

"Enhancement."

Then—

"Compression."

CRRRUNCH!

The translucent sphere rapidly contracted, crushing the stone wall as it shrank.

STEP. STEP.

At the footsteps sounding through the silence, the knights and mercenaries turned their eyes to one side.

A man was approaching. He walked with an impassive expression, as though even this dire situation stirred nothing in him. The nobles and knights easily recognized him as Count Pallatio.

"Vacuum."

As he opened his mouth once more, the Shield changed from a round sphere into a rough, uneven shape, like an ordinary soccer-ball-sized rock lying beside the road.

Then—

"Return to the Primordial."

With Alon's final words, his bracelet began emitting a soft gray glow.

BOOOOM!

The compressed gravel sprayed outward like a shotgun blast, tearing dozens of goblins to shreds.

It all happened in an instant.

The nobles, knights, and mercenaries gaped blankly at the sight of dozens of mana-infused goblins turning into chunks of meat in the blink of an eye. Count Kryld and Count Edorn's eyes, in particular, were so wide they seemed about to split.

Now the focus of everyone's attention, Alon looked ahead and murmured calmly,

"Don't just stand there. Get ready."

... As though spellbound, the knights and mercenaries raised their swords.

The fear that had been spreading through their hearts had vanished as if it had never existed.