Chapter 7 - Misunderstanding (2)

In truth, Alon had anticipated this problem to some extent.

In the game, House Pallatio appeared merely as fodder for the protagonist’s growth, but its name carried considerable weight in the Kingdom of Asteria.

Of course, that standing did not mean it was held in high esteem. Although it had once been regarded as a highly respected house within the kingdom, up until around its third generation, House Pallatio was now notorious as the most disreputable noble house in the east.

More specifically, a disreputable noble house that became an enormous nuisance if you crossed it.

"..."

But despite knowing that, there was one thing Alon had overlooked.

"This wine has a rather distinctive flavor."

"Oh, um... yes..."

"I’m quite fond of wine, and this one seems to have a particularly distinctive bouquet. I’d like to keep a few bottles at home."

"I-I’ll speak to my father and have some brought to you...!"

"Pardon...?"

House Pallatio’s capacity for being scoundrels far exceeded his imagination.

"..."

Alon watched blankly as the young lady, hunched in on herself like a frightened mouse, bowed hastily and scurried away.

"L-Look at that. He’s threatening Lady Malantino into handing over their specialty wine—"

"I-Is he?"

"Listen to what he’s saying. It’s exactly how Pallatio’s eldest son threatened people last time...! They only produce limited quantities of that specialty...!"

As he wondered what had gone wrong, those hushed voices reached his ears. Alon thought, his expression hollow,

'Leo. You fucking scumbag...'

Feeling utterly miserable, he looked toward the young ladies who had been whispering moments earlier. They hastily lowered their heads to avoid even meeting his eyes, then disappeared somewhere.

Alon simply could not understand the situation.

'Come on... Weren’t we just one of the disreputable houses in the east...?'

Of course, he had suspected that ugly rumors about him were spreading, and he could readily understand the nobles avoiding him to some degree. Even so, he had never expected it to be this bad.

More precisely, he had not known that House Pallatio was so firmly established among the nobility as a house of scoundrels.

... Or rather, he had not known that merely being mistakenly credited with bringing down all of that house’s scoundrels would earn him this treatment.

'So much for making friends.'

Just as Alon let out a small sigh, a voice spoke.

"Hello."

He turned toward the voice to find a girl in a black dress smiling beguilingly at him. Her beauty stood out even among the young ladies at the ball.

Alon faced her and returned her greeting.

"Hello, Lady Xenonia."

"Oh my, you know who I am?"

"Of course."

As far as Alon was concerned, it would have been impossible not to know her.

After all, the girl before him was Count Xenonia’s eldest daughter. Much like House Pallatio, her house flaunted its prowess at being scoundrels, only in the west.

Six years from now, she would no longer be Count Xenonia’s eldest daughter but Countess Xenonia herself. She was also one of Asteria’s three great masterminds whom the protagonist would eventually deal with.

"You’re famous in many ways."

"Famous, you say. Am I?"

"Indeed."

In short, nothing good could come of getting involved with her.

Noticing a subtle emotion briefly enter Lady Xenonia’s eyes, Alon continued.

"You are so beautiful, after all."

Noble society was, fundamentally, extremely complicated.

Even within Asteria alone, there were numerous factions, divided between royalists and aristocrats, all busily engaged in political struggles.

And those struggles were not merely wars of words. With real interests at stake, politics had become an enormously important part of noble life.

Of course, Alon had not come to the ball to socialize for political purposes.

Though his plans had already taken a considerable beating, his goal was still to live in peace. He knew very well that peace and politics could never coexist.

Even so, he had tried to socialize a little because having at least a few connections would help him in his life as a noble.

'But not with this person.'

Alon looked at Lady Xenonia.

Her family, House Xenonia, was regarded as the scourge of the west just as House Pallatio was in the east, and it did not participate in political struggles.

Unlike House Pallatio, which stayed out of politics so it could act without anything to lose, House Xenonia instead exploited the political situation.

In other words, it was a little smarter than House Pallatio... It would be more accurate to describe it as a corporate-style gang.

"Thank you for the compliment."

"It’s simply the truth."

An onlooker might think that, if Alon had no intention of entering politics, befriending Lady Xenonia would not be such a bad thing. But that would be a mistake.

People flocked to their own kind.

Politicians gathered around those involved in politics.

And gangsters gathered around gangsters.

What would happen if he befriended Lady Xenonia under those circumstances?

If he intended to dabble in illegal businesses like Pallatio’s deceased scoundrels, he could hardly ask for a better connection. Otherwise, he would be setting himself on a path he could not turn back from.

In the worst case, there was a very real chance he would become Lady Xenonia’s pawn.

Contrary to the widespread belief that he possessed an organization with a Swordmaster in its ranks, Alon was an ordinary noble with nothing.

"I’d like to talk a little more. What do you say?"

"I would love to, but unfortunately, I’m afraid I must take my leave for today."

"... Is that so?"

Lady Xenonia’s eyes narrowed for a moment, giving her the air of a predator. Her expression betrayed nothing of her thoughts.

But an instant later—

"...!"

Her eyes widened slightly, as though something had startled her. Then she smiled and nodded as if she understood.

"You really are just as the rumors say."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. I look forward to seeing you again."

With those words, she swept past him.

"...?"

Alon turned to look after Lady Xenonia, bewildered.

####

Malantino’s specialty wine.

Penia’s citrus tea.

Villanda’s finely worked metalware.

One prized horse from Paldion.

After the young lady left, Alon had decided that, since he was already here, he might as well make a few more attempts at socializing. This was the list of spoils he had acquired while making the rounds, instead of friendships.

'Making friends is a lost cause.'

Alon let out an incredulous, hollow laugh at the spoils he had gained instead of connections.

'If I’d known it would turn out like this, I wouldn’t have bothered studying noble hobbies.'

Recalling how he had studied wine in the hope that it would help him socialize, Alon smacked his lips. Just as he turned to attend to the business he had originally come for—

"One moment, please."

"?"

Another voice stopped him.

"Hello."

He turned to find a woman in an extravagant red dress, adorned with all manner of finery.

She seemed to have taken great care with her appearance, down to the smallest detail. Yet in contrast to that meticulous presentation, her face held no particular emotion.

"Yes, hello."

As he returned her greeting, facing the woman whose clothes somehow seemed ill-suited to her, she immediately asked a question.

"If you have a moment, could we talk?"

Alon looked at her with fresh surprise. Only one person at this ball had approached him first to start a conversation.

'Is she someone like Lady Xenonia?'

In an instant, he ran through the list of Asteria’s masterminds in his head, then nodded.

"Certainly."

He did not know what she intended, but she was not on the list of masterminds he remembered. More importantly, for once, someone else had taken the initiative to ask him to talk.

Having agreed to a brief conversation, the two stepped out onto the terrace.

Immediately afterward, he asked,

"May I ask your name, my lady?"

"I should have introduced myself sooner. I’m Loria, the third daughter of House Altia."

"Ah... House Altia."

"Yes."

Alon involuntarily groaned inwardly.

House Altia was the disreputable house of northern Asteria. Moreover, it was the house of the Duke of Altia, another of the three great masterminds, alongside Lady Xenonia.

'Of course anyone who approaches me wouldn’t be normal. I should have asked her name first...'

Alon thought of his situation, which a single visit to a ball had made painfully clear.

'But why don’t I remember her?'

Alon looked at Loria’s face.

Her lavish adornments enhanced her already extraordinary beauty even further.

'There’s no way I wouldn’t recognize a face like this.'

In Psychedelia, House Altia was the only house whose entire membership appeared as masterminds.

In other words, if she was a daughter of House Altia, Alon, who had played the game over and over, ought to remember at least her name, even if he had not memorized her face.

As he pondered this,

"... May I be direct?"

"What is it?"

"Please lend me your strength."

"... My strength?"

"I’m going to be assassinated soon."

The moment he heard those words, he realized one truth.

'... There were four members of House Altia in the game: the Duke of Altia, two older sisters, and one younger brother. So if Loria is the third daughter...'

In the future six years from now, Loria was already dead.

"My sisters... No, those women will try to kill me soon."

Loria began speaking just as he reached that realization. Her explanation, in short, was this:

She was the daughter of the duke’s mistress—the only woman he had loved more than his wife. His affection had kept her alive until now, but the Duke of Altia was currently gravely ill and could die at any moment.

In other words, the moment the duke died, Loria’s life would end as well.

"But why are you asking me for help?"

"With the power you possess, it should be more than possible."

For the first time, anxiety appeared on her expressionless face.

"I must refuse."

Yet even seeing that expression, Alon had no choice but to reject her request.

"... Of course, I’m not asking you to do this for nothing. If you help me, Lord Alon, half of House Altia’s—"

"I’m sorry."

Loria spoke with desperation written across her face, but Alon’s answer remained unchanged.

Of course, it was not that he felt no sympathy for Loria.

If he had possessed the strength, her request would have merited some consideration, even if he could not have viewed it favorably outright.

Unfortunately, however, Alon had no such strength.

Most of the rumors currently surrounding him were false. He had neither the assassin who had killed House Pallatio’s Leo nor a Swordmaster-level force capable of wiping out Avalon.

And so,

"I’ll be taking my leave now."

"..."

Alon turned away.

As he did, he saw despair lingering in the silent Loria’s eyes. But that did not give him power he did not possess.

Right now, keeping himself safe was enough of a struggle.

So he continued toward the ballroom, only to smack his lips at last and look back at Loria.

"Good things will come your way."

It was a wish offered to ease the heaviness in his heart a little.

Loria did not answer.

Alon turned away without expecting a reply.

"... It would be nice if we could meet again."

The sensibilities of a modern person had not yet entirely left him, and they needlessly weighed on his heart. Seeking a little comfort, he merely gazed up blankly at the crescent-shaped chandelier and murmured to himself.

And meanwhile—

"I think we should report this part to the Red Moon."

On the roof of the ballroom beneath which the chandelier hung, the violet-eyed figure turned to speak to the person beside him. At Yutia’s orders, he had been lingering around Alon to intercept any information about the Avalon incident that might reach him.

"There’s no need. She isn’t among the targets. Even if we do nothing, Radan will take care of it."

"... I see. That woman is the only one of Altia’s children who isn’t among Radan’s ‘targets.’"

"Yes. Instead, I think we should turn our attention to something else."

As the green-eyed figure murmured and shifted their gaze elsewhere, Deus also looked in another direction.

There, a figure dressed in black was quietly tailing Alon.

"... Someone following him?"

Without a word, Deus drew up his mana to deal with the black-clad figure, but then hesitated.

He remembered Yutia’s warning never to act rashly without their revered master’s orders.

And so he said,

"Let’s watch for now."

Deus and Rine decided to quietly observe the black-clad figure following Alon.