Chapter 22 - Grand Social Gathering (2)

The battle against the goblins ultimately ended in victory. The knights and mercenaries held their line thanks to their calm response, and Alon blasted away another detachment with magic as it moved to attack the nobles from behind alongside the archers. That tipped the battle in their favor in an instant.

Of course, with hundreds of mutated goblins to contend with, there were casualties. Still, their numbers were remarkably low considering the scale of the battle. The fighting finally ended when a knight pierced the skull of the last goblin, which was still struggling desperately. Once the combatants confirmed it was over, they let out deep sighs of relief and turned to Alon, who was looking down at the goblin corpses.

The mercenaries briefly looked at him in awe. Despite having fought for his life only moments earlier, he remained expressionless, as though none of it had stirred him in the slightest. The sight of him turning dozens of goblins into chunks of meat without so much as a change in color had left a powerful impression on mercenaries and knights alike.

Yet Alon, whom the knights and mercenaries were regarding with such admiration, was thinking:

'I nearly got killed in one hit...!'

Though his face betrayed nothing, he was working desperately to calm his wildly pounding heart.

The Imprint of the Unclean now allowed him to cast three more spells than before, but after casting Wall and Shield twice each, his pathetic mana reservoir had reduced him to an ordinary person.

'Thank goodness the knights won.'

Of course, even against mutated goblins, the chances of the knights and mercenaries losing were exceedingly low, so he had trusted them to some extent. But once he lost every means of protecting himself, he had never wished for their victory more desperately.

'... I considered splitting off and traveling alone, but sticking with them was definitely the right call... Anyway.'

Alon commended his past self for acting rationally. Once his heart had settled, he turned his attention back to the goblins, and his expression grew grave. He knew all too well what the purple amethysts sprouting from their bodies meant.

'Why is divine possession happening...?'

It was a strange trait that appeared in the continent's monsters when an Outer God was preparing to descend upon this world. Monsters affected by divine possession became even more vicious, and their physical abilities grew stronger.

Even so, their current group should be able to deal with any monsters they encountered on the way to the duke's domain. But that was not what worried Alon. It was the very fact that divine possession had occurred. That meant an Outer God would descend upon this land before long.

The peripheral Outer Gods were supposed to be unable to descend unless the Five Great Sins did.

'This isn't supposed to happen...?'

The descent of the Outer Gods was a matter of immense importance to Alon. Though they were not on the same level as the Five Great Sins, once even the peripheral Outer Gods fully descended and began running rampant, a kingdom or two could easily disappear. There were only six kingdoms on the continent, excluding the empire. That meant a full one-in-three chance of his retirement plans vanishing.

No, he would be lucky if worrying about retirement remained an option at all. Alon stared gravely at the goblins.

Yet there were people present whose expressions were even graver than his. In fact, they looked as though three generations of their families had been utterly ruined.

"..."

... They were Count Kryld and Count Edorn.

####

Several more days passed after the mutated goblins appeared, leaving them about a day away from the ducal estate. It had only been a few days, but two things had changed for Alon in that brief time.

First, the nobles who had openly looked at him with contempt and mockery whenever Count Kryld and Count Edorn taunted him no longer wore those expressions.

The other change was...

"Count Pallatio, this is some meat I brought from my manor. Would you care to try it?"

"Count, if you wouldn't mind, I was thinking of offering your domain a little support. What do you say?"

Count Kryld and Count Edorn had stopped the taunts they had so diligently hurled over the past several days and begun groveling before Alon instead. Unlike just a few days earlier, the two counts clung to the expressionless Alon and fawned over him as though they would give him absolutely anything he asked for.

Alon still treated them with indifference, but the two counts were desperate. No, truly desperate. The strength Alon had displayed a few days earlier was suspiciously great for someone who had supposedly taken over House Pallatio through sheer luck.

Moreover, they still remembered what the third-tier mage Baron Amon had brought along to flaunt his wealth had said that night: Alon's magic was absolutely not a mere second-tier spell.

The moment they heard that, the two counts reversed their thinking completely. Perhaps the rumors currently circulating were wrong. Of course, there were still unanswered questions that kept them from concluding the rumors were entirely false, but that was not important. What mattered was that they had realized Alon was concealing enough power to have no need of guards.

That meant the power Count Pallatio possessed—the power that had erased Avalon in a single day—might be real. Their only remaining option was to soothe his displeasure as quickly as possible.

Someone looking at this situation might have thought, Since there are still suspicious details, wouldn't it be better to investigate thoroughly before acting? But for these two men, who knew House Pallatio, that was not an option at all.

Having witnessed House Pallatio's capacity for thuggery firsthand time and again, they knew just how cruel its members could be. Of course, Alon, the third son, had never shown that side of himself. Even so, they were convinced he already possessed a vicious, brutal disposition.

... After all, House Pallatio had produced nothing but complete bastards for generations, starting with his grandfather.

In any case, thanks to that, Alon had enjoyed a very luxurious few days. He ate meat instead of sweet potatoes and corn for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and the wine they occasionally brought along was excellent too. Yet even after receiving such gifts for days in a row, his expression had not brightened. The goblins from a few days earlier were still weighing on his mind.

'Which one is it...?'

In truth, no amount of agonizing would give Alon an answer. Divine possession was merely a sign that an Outer God would descend. It told him absolutely nothing about which god it would be or when it would arrive. Racking his fucking brains here would accomplish nothing.

... Even knowing it was pointless, he could hardly keep himself from worrying. His future plans could be wiped out in an instant—and worse, he could go from noble to commoner just as quickly.

'Once I reach the domain, I'll have to gather whatever information I can.'

With that thought, Alon looked at the nobles beside him, who had even abandoned their pride to fawn over him and make amends for their earlier behavior. Once again, he appreciated just how notorious House Pallatio's thuggery was.

'... I didn't expect them to go this far just because the rumors might be wrong.'

Watching the counts' little talent show(?), Alon turned away. Appreciating his house's notoriety was one thing; feeling any desire to relieve their anxiety was another.

... He thought of himself as laid-back, but he had a petty streak.

The two counts' performance finally ended when Alon arrived at House Rotegr.

####

The first things Alon saw upon arriving at House Rotegr were an absurdly enormous mansion, another mansion, and yet another mansion.

'Really showing off how rich he is, huh? How many mansions are there inside these castle walls?'

There were so many differently styled mansions that Alon wondered whether collecting them was the duke's hobby. Before long, however, he learned that they all belonged to the duke's mistresses, leaving him speechless.

He briefly wondered how the man's body could hold up. Since he had arrived with the banquet already well underway, he headed straight into the ballroom—and found himself astonished once again. Everything he could see had clearly cost an extraordinary amount of money.

Even the wineglasses, the least important things in the ballroom, were finished with gold rims. The chandeliers were gold as well. Alon wandered around the ballroom with a growing urge to take one down and sell it.

Naturally, the ballroom was filled with nobles. Duke Rotegr, who had lavished money on this Grand Social Gathering and was, as Alon had expected, painfully thin, was chatting with them.

Alon did not go out of his way to join their conversations as he had last time. It was easy enough to guess that nothing good would come of it—in a somewhat worse sense than at the previous ball.

Instead of joining in, Alon planned to eat a little nearby and simply eavesdrop on their conversations. Evan had left to contact the Information Guild as soon as they reached the domain anyway.

As Alon popped a dessert resembling an egg tart, set out alongside the wine, into his mouth, he overheard an interesting piece of news.

"Baron Daldoran, have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"You know, the rumor that the Duke of Altia and Count Xenonia aren't content with their new alliance and intend to form a faction."

"Ah, that rumor? Yes, I've heard it too."

The two nobles discreetly moved into a corner and began talking as though they were sharing an enormous secret. But Alon, who had enhanced his hearing with mana, could hear their voices easily.

"But is it really true? I could hardly believe they'd formed an alliance in the first place. Astonishing. If they establish a faction, they'll effectively be powerful enough to crush all the existing ones."

"Indeed. We may be about to witness something unprecedented."

As the noble had suggested, the news did surprise Alon, but his expression did not grow particularly grave. Whatever the rumors said, he believed those two masterminds could never maintain an alliance for long.

As he was thinking this, the taste of the egg tart in his mouth suddenly made his eyes widen, and he nodded involuntarily.

'Delicious.'

He naturally picked up another egg tart and popped it straight into his mouth.

But—

"That isn't the important part, though."

"What do you mean? Is there an even bigger rumor?"

"I wouldn't have brought it up otherwise."

Alon chewed and chewed.

"What on earth is it...?"

"I heard this in the strictest confidence, so don't go spreading it around. From what I've heard, neither the Duke of Altia nor Count Xenonia is the head of this faction."

"...? Then who is?"

He kept chewing.

"Count Pallatio."

"... Count Pallatio?"

"Yes. The head of the faction is... Count Pallatio, apparently."

"Is that really true?"

"Of course. Surely you don't think I'd lie?"

Alon's chewing faltered.

"???"

... What?

At what he heard next, Alon could not help turning toward the nobles sharing their secret, his mouth falling open.