Chapter 5 - Becoming the Mastermind of the Count’s House (5)

Two more years had passed since Alon rescued all Five Great Sins. Before he knew it, he had been exchanging letters with Yutia for four years.

There were now six years left until the original story began.

Count Pallatio died.

The official cause of death was a heart attack. But the house’s retainers and anyone well informed could easily discern his true cause of death.

A drug overdose.

Count Pallatio had met an end befitting a dark fantasy. Yet no one mourned him.

Even the servants and retainers took his death calmly. By the end, the count was already utterly ruined, abusing drugs as though making one final sprint toward death. It would have been stranger not to expect this outcome.

Perhaps it was because he had squandered his life on women and drugs. Astonishingly, not a single noble offered condolences even after word of his death spread.

His two surviving sons were no different. Leo, the eldest, remained composed, as though he had long expected this. In fact, he seemed more concerned with the recent fighting against Blue Moon than with his father’s death, constantly discussing it with the retainers loyal to him.

Alon felt much the same.

The man who was supposedly his father had never cared, even when his eldest and second sons openly bullied Alon. Incredibly, Alon had not spoken to the count even once since possessing this body.

Their relationship amounted to regarding one another with indifference.

And so the count’s passing ended quietly, in silence, without a single sob.

####

A week after the count’s death, the position of house head remained vacant, owing to Pallatio’s longstanding rule that no new head would be chosen in the year the previous one died.

Still, nothing changed. The count had done nothing even when Alon first possessed this body. The retainers had managed the house themselves while stuffing their fucking pockets with whatever they could skim off.

Meanwhile, Alon was learning magic to protect himself.

“Young master, I know I’ve said this before, but this really is astonishing.”

“Why?”

“... Reaching the second tier in two years without entering a magic tower or even having a teacher... Do you think that’s a remotely reasonable level of talent?”

'Only half the talent I need, though.'

Alon watched the three small spheres circling above his palm, then shook them away and sighed softly.

'Having talent was a good start, at least.'

Two years earlier, Alon had been delighted to discover that he had a talent for magic. In the world of Psychedelia, magic was something only those with the necessary innate talent could use.

And his talent was quite impressive. Considering that mages took an average of four years to reach the second tier, doing so in two years without a teacher might not qualify as a heaven-sent gift, but it certainly made him an extraordinary talent from an unlikely background.

Even Alon could tell that his talent for precise mana control far exceeded that of others. Making three spheres of electricity float and orbit above his hand, as he had just done, was useless—but it was a feat impossible without finely controlled mana.

'... It would’ve been nice to have a large mana reservoir, too.'

That was why Alon called his talent incomplete. The mana reservoir every human was born with was small in his case.

Not just a little small, either. Very small.

Of course, constant training could expand it somewhat, but his innate capacity was so absurdly tiny that he was better off not getting his hopes up. A mana reservoir was, quite literally, like the weight class one was born into.

'If this really doesn’t work out, there is a way to deal with it... '

As Alon smacked his lips and continued thinking, Evan asked a question.

“Young master, what are you planning to do now?”

“About what?”

“Next year, that bastard—I mean, the eldest young master will become head of the house, won’t he?”

The name Evan usually called him must have become a habit; he hastily corrected himself. Realizing what he was asking, Alon answered.

“Leave.”

“... You intend to leave the domain?”

“Not entirely. Just head south.”

“By south... do you mean Rodmil?”

Alon nodded.

“That’s right.”

Rodmil.

On the map, it was a town about four days south of Pallion, House Palladio’s domain. It was moderately prosperous and governed by House Palladio.

“That’s where I’m going.”

“... Why?”

Evan sounded puzzled. And while it might be a little difficult for him to understand, to Alon, this was the final destination of the plan he had been working toward all along.

His goal from the start had been to save the Five Great Sins from the misery that would lead them to wipe out the allied kingdoms, change the future, and spend the rest of his life living comfortably as a noble in a world where those kingdoms never fell.

'From that perspective, Rodmil is an excellent choice.'

First, Rodmil had a mansion belonging to the third Count Palladio.

Second, its development was so thoroughly unremarkable that Leo, who would soon become count, would have no particular interest in it for the rest of his life.

Third, it was about four days from the count’s estate, allowing Alon to remain far removed from the protagonist’s tale of rewarding good and punishing evil when the original story began.

In short, all Alon had to do was go to Rodmil, and his plan would be successfully complete. But explaining every detail to Evan was too much trouble, so he offered one simple remark.

“There’s a time for everything.”

“... Young master, do you realize you always brush me off with that line when you can’t be bothered to explain?”

Alon didn’t bother answering. Instead, he said,

“Since we’re talking about it, let’s pack.”

And he began preparing to leave for Rodmil.

####

Exactly one month later.

Leo, House Palladio’s eldest son and now a powerful figure secretly operating in the underworld through Avalon, watched his younger brother climb into a carriage in the distance with a single knight, preparing to leave the estate.

'What should I do?'

He was deciding whether to kill Alon.

“...”

In truth, Alon was not much of a nuisance to Leo. He never had been, even as a child.

While Tonio, who had died suddenly a few years earlier, had always bared his teeth and coveted the succession, Alon had been the opposite—forever watching everyone’s reactions and busy bowing his head.

Something had changed a little over the past few years, but that fundamental attitude remained the same. Even now, Alon had volunteered to move to the outskirts so he would not get on Leo’s nerves.

“Hmm...”

Originally, Leo had considered getting Alon addicted to drugs and quietly disposing of him around the time the count died. But if he was leaving for Rodmil of his own accord, there was no reason to do that.

Alon was already groveling before Leo without being told, and he seemed to have no intention of opposing him.

Clearly, there was no longer any reason to kill Alon.

And yet the eldest son was still deliberating.

Ridiculously enough, there was no particular reason for it.

He wasn’t worried that Alon might go to the outskirts and steal the succession. Nor did he find Alon’s excessive groveling repulsive as a family member.

Leo had never felt familial affection for Alon—no, for anyone in this entire house.

“...”

Ultimately, Leo was considering killing him simply because he found him irritating.

A month earlier, Alon had come to him, bowed his head, and volunteered to leave for Rodmil. For some inexplicable reason, that had irritated him.

Perhaps it was because he had just heard that one of Avalon’s branches had failed to meet its targets, putting him in a bad mood.

On the strength of that passing feeling alone, Alon’s life was put on trial.

“Alman.”

“Yes.”

“Follow the carriage discreetly.”

In less than a minute, Alon’s fate was decided.

To Leo, someone like Alon could be killed on nothing more than a fleeting whim.

That was all the thought he gave the order. But the figure who had appeared behind him asked an unfamiliar question.

“... Do you mean I should kill him?”

“...?”

Leo was puzzled.

Two years earlier, the boy had caught his eye as someone useful despite his youth. After countless tests, he had finally become Leo’s trusted agent. He was not someone who questioned his orders.

Whatever Leo said, he simply obeyed. He never asked questions.

“Do you think family means anything to m—”

Frowning slightly, Leo opened his mouth to correct whatever misunderstanding the boy might have, but—

SHUNK!

“... Hakh?”

What burst from Leo’s mouth instead was fresh red blood.

He coughed it up, his expression uncomprehending. Still unable to grasp what was happening, he stood motionless for a moment before looking down.

A sword was embedded in his heart.

“Y-you betrayed—”

Rage began to blaze in Leo’s eyes, but the man who had driven the sword into him from behind answered impassively.

“This is not betrayal. I was never your servant to begin with.”

“Wh-what?”

“I was merely waiting for you to say it.”

“!”

At those words, Leo’s expression, muddled with anger and confusion, slowly gave way to horror. At last, a face surfaced in his mind.

Alon’s face. The third son of the count’s house.

Yet at the same time, incomprehension crossed Leo’s face. Alman—no, “Hidan”—had been at his side for over two years. For the past year, Leo had let Hidan stand behind him, having put aside all suspicion.

In other words, Hidan could have killed him whenever he wished.

Leo looked at him with eyes full of horror and questions, and finally received his answer.

“We cannot act without orders. We are merely his swords, moving only as he wields us. This is our creed, the inviolable creed taught to us by the Red Moon. But—”

He drove the blade deeper.

“Kahh!”

“As an exception, if someone directly attempts to harm the Great Moon, our swords are permitted to move of their own accord.”

SHHHRK!

“That is why you were allowed to live until now.”

THUD!

The moment the sword was pulled free, Leo fell face-first to the ground. Yet the rage never left his eyes as he opened his mouth.

“My men—won’t let—”

“Don’t worry. The moment you said those words, Avalon’s complete eradication from this continent became inevitable.”

Hidan, a member of Blue Moon and one of Yutia’s direct subordinates, turned away with one final remark.

“... What a pity. The Great Moon gave you a chance.”

Leo died without understanding what those words meant.

It was a cold death.

####

Three days after arriving in Rodmil, Alon returned to House Pallatio.

The reason was that Leo, the house’s eldest son, had died.

And with that inexplicable death, Alon acquired a new epithet, one others whispered with bated breath. He had been leisurely making his own toast in a corner of the mansion because he had no maid, only to rush back to the count’s estate.

Now they called him the mastermind of the count’s house.

“...”

... What?