Became the Patron of Villains

The absurdly small range of the ice formation spell disappeared before even reaching three seconds.
In fact, the actual implementation was so weak that it had no practical use.  
“My magic power…”

Even with just that, Alon felt his mana core completely drained, and he suddenly realized just how reckless he had been when fighting the foreign force half a year ago.  
‘I should have been grateful just for surviving back then.’
With that thought, Alon looked at the dragonkin who had been mocking him moments ago.  

Even though all he could see was a dark form with nothing more than white holes where its eyes and mouth should have been, Alon could clearly make out its expression.  
The dragonkin, mouth agape in disbelief, stared at the spot where the magic had manifested just moments before.  
[How… how is that possible? You clearly don’t know anything about Mind Resonance or anything else…]  

The dragonkin mumbled in disbelief, its face showing utter shock as if its very understanding of the world had been shattered.  
“Keep your promise.”
Alon reminded him of the most important thing.

The dragonkin’s expression twisted.  
For a moment, it seemed like the dragonkin was going to shout that Alon had lied, that the promise was void.
But after Alon’s remark about how someone of its rank should at least keep its own words, the dragonkin groaned as though it carried the burdens of the world.  

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[Master…]
Grinding its teeth with an audible crack, the dragonkin finally managed to speak.  

Although the words seemed to carry more murderous intent than respect, Alon nodded to himself in satisfaction, feeling a sense of vindication.  
[Do you really not know anything about Mind Resonance?]
The dragonkin asked again.  
Alon nodded.

“I don’t.”
[…It doesn’t seem like you’re lying.]  
“Why is it such a big deal?” Alon asked, genuinely confused.  

The dragonkin hesitated for a moment before explaining.  
[As I said before, magic was originally created to approach ‘laws.’ Phrases, seals, and inscriptions all serve that purpose.]  
[However, there’s a key difference: while phrases and seals can be used if their meaning is understood, inscriptions alone aren’t enough.]  

Sitting on the edge of the desk, the dragonkin continued.  
[As I mentioned last time, inscriptions are the key to accessing the laws that mages have imprinted upon this world.]  
“I remember you saying that… but if what you’re saying is true, and one must understand Mind Resonance to perform self-manifestation, why did you teach me that inscription? If I really needed to know Mind Resonance, wouldn’t I have been unable to use it even if you taught me?”  

In response to Alon’s curious question, the dragonkin answered immediately.  
[You’re right and wrong at the same time. As I said before, inscriptions are keys, but they are also a means to interfere with the laws. That means they can be used as keys, but also to twist the laws.]  
Alon nodded in understanding.  

He had used the ice formation spell in different forms before attempting self-manifestation. He also understood which law the inscription ‘Glory of the Snowy Mountains’ distorted now.  
“So it has two uses, then.”
[Exactly. While it’s mainly a key to help mages approach the laws they’ve inscribed, it can also be utilized as a law itself.]  

The dragonkin continued.  
[But as I’ve said many times before, self-manifestation requires Mind Resonance. Mind Resonance is memory.]  
“…Memory?”

Alon tilted his head slightly in confusion, and the dragonkin hesitated for a moment before explaining further.  
[Yes. People talk about inheriting history or knowledge, but in the end, it’s all memory. The memory of when mages first approached the laws and created the inscriptions.]  
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[That’s what I call Mind Resonance, and it’s absolutely necessary to use inscriptions as keys. That’s why I said it didn’t make sense.]  
The dragonkin furrowed its brow and added in a slightly lower voice.  
[In this world, neither Mind Resonance nor the mages who could pass it on to their «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» successors remain.]  

A brief silence followed.  
But soon, the dragonkin’s sigh broke the quiet.  
[That’s why I can’t quite understand. How exactly did you manage to succeed in self-manifestation?]  

It looked at Alon with a puzzled expression, but naturally, Alon had nothing to say in response.  
After all, even Alon himself didn’t know how he had managed to use self-manifestation.  
No, to be more precise, he did know the method. He formed a seal, spoke the phrase, and uttered the inscription.  

With that, Alon successfully executed self-manifestation.  
However, it conflicted with what the dragonkin had just explained.  
The explanation that self-manifestation required inheriting Mind Resonance was at odds with Alon’s experience, as he had no memory of inheriting any Mind Resonance.  

That wasn’t the only contradiction. There was also a significant gap between the common knowledge of the dragonkin and what Alon knew.  
First, up until now, Alon had used phrases, inscriptions, and seals to cast magic, but most of it was knowledge he acquired by speaking the phrases himself and learning through experience.  
In other words, he had figured out the meaning of the phrases through trial and error, without any prior understanding.  

But the dragonkin had clearly stated that phrases and inscriptions could only be used if one understood their meaning.  
In essence, what it said seemed to suggest that the way Alon had learned magic on his own should have been impossible.  
“Before I say anything else, there’s something I’d like to ask.”  

[What is it?]  
Alon then expressed his doubts to the dragonkin, who, after listening for a while, muttered,  
[…Does that even make sense?]  

It stared blankly, genuinely unable to understand.  
“But that’s how I’ve been doing it. And it’s the same now.”  
Alon’s response was met with a disbelieving chuckle from the dragonkin, who was about to say something further when—  

Rumble!  
“?”  
Alon looked puzzled as the tower suddenly began to shake, as though an earthquake had struck.  

[…It seems my time is up.]  
“Time?”  
[The time I can manifest in this world is short, and it seems like it’s coming to an end.]  

Alon instinctively furrowed his brow at this explanation, but the dragonkin smiled as if to reassure him.  
[Don’t worry too much. You can come back in five days, and we’ll talk again. I’ll explain what you’re curious about then. And—]  
[-If possible, find ‘Sparrow’s Staff’ and receive the phrases and inscriptions from the one inside. You’ll be able to communicate by channeling magic into it.]  

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Sparrow’s Staff…? An ego weapon?  
[More like a weapon imbued with a personality, a bit of a nutcase. Get the phrases and inscriptions from it.]  

“So you’re saying these inscriptions are like secret techniques, yet you’re telling me it’ll easily share them?”  
[Don’t worry about that. The one inside regrets not being able to pass on its knowledge, so it’ll be more than willing to teach you.]  
[I’m looking forward to it. If what you say is true, you’ll be able to—]  

The dragonkin let out a sly smile once again.  
[-Use the magic of all mages with just phrases, inscriptions, and seals. And—]  
Before finishing its sentence, the dragonkin vanished in an instant, leaving Alon staring into the empty space in silence.  

***
A little time passed.  
Alon, having left the ruins, was now in a carriage, deep in thought.  

He hadn’t learned the secrets that had originally brought him there, the mysteries he had been curious about for so long. But his focus had shifted away from those secrets.  
The secrets weren’t much of a risk, considering he had to stay in the colony for at least two more weeks thanks to the Colosseum.  
Instead, Alon was reflecting on what the dragonkin had said.  

‘…You can’t use magic without understanding phrases, inscriptions, and self-manifestation, huh?’  
He had thought about it over and over again.  
‘That dragonkin didn’t seem like it was lying, so how was I able to use them?’  

Despite contemplating the issue multiple times, he knew there was no way to find an answer to something he didn’t understand.  
‘I feel like there’s something to this…’  
With a slight sense of curiosity, he soon shifted his thoughts to another topic.  

‘Sparrow’s Staff, huh…’
Fortunately, Alon knew where the Sparrow’s Staff, mentioned by the dragonkin, was located.
‘It should be in the royal treasury of the colony.’

He had already entered the royal family’s vault several times during quests to retrieve various items, so he was familiar with the location.  
However, despite knowing where it was, Alon had never taken the Sparrow’s Staff out.  
The item was among the least useful in terms of performance within the vault.  

‘…Its abilities aren’t impressive enough to choose over something else I originally planned to take.’
Even so, he didn’t intend to ignore the dragonkin’s advice, so after a moment of deliberation, he decided.
‘Guess I don’t have a choice… I should register as a fighter in the Colosseum first.’

He made up his mind to join the Colosseum this time and retrieve the Sparrow’s Staff.  
Thus…
“Master!”  

“Yes?”  
“Can you pat my head?”  
“…Your head?”  

“Yeah!”  
As he stroked Seolrang’s hair, who had leaned in next to him for a head pat—  
“Hmm—”  

—she was clearly enjoying it, even though his hand was barely moving as she rubbed her head against it on her own.  
Together, they arrived at the colony.  
And…  

“…Huh?”
The moment they entered, Alon noticed that the atmosphere was unusually chaotic.  
Rather, after realizing that there was hardly any foot traffic within the colony, Alon looked puzzled, but only for a moment.  

As they continued toward the guild by carriage, Alon saw an immense crowd gathered along the central street of the colony and immediately halted the carriage.  
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It was impossible to drive through the crowd.  

Moreover—  
“Lady Seolrang, it seems we’ll have to wait until the crowd passes.”  
The beastman who had scouted ahead reported the situation, and Seolrang looked at Alon.

After a brief moment of thought, Alon said, “Let’s wait and take a look while we’re at it.”
He stepped out of the carriage, his curiosity piqued by the bustling scene.  
It seemed as though the entire population of the colony had gathered, lining both sides of the central road.  

As Alon stepped out of the carriage and made his way through the crowd, he eventually spotted a carriage approaching from a distance.  
“Stop.”  
A mercenary blocked Alon’s path.  

The mercenary, clearly rough-looking, gave Alon a light shove with the hand holding his sword and spoke.  
“No one is allowed to approach Lord Milanon.”
A blatant warning.  

Only then did Alon notice that, despite the crowd, this area was empty, guarded by mercenaries.  
Alon turned his gaze toward the man standing within the cordon of mercenaries.  
He looked like a noble from the colony, adorned with various decorations, with an unmistakably arrogant demeanor.  

Having apparently heard the mercenary’s words, the noble glanced at Alon, smirked, and then turned his gaze away.  
At that moment, Alon couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly at the sight of this noble, who, like many of his kind, seemed to derive a sense of entitlement from the most trivial things.  
Crack!  

In an instant, the mercenary who had blocked Alon’s path vanished, smashing into a nearby grocery store.  
It had all happened in a flash.  
The crowd’s attention immediately turned to the scene, and the mercenaries who had formed the barricade began to move before they could even assess the situation.  

At that moment—  
Zap!  
Boom! Crash!  

The mercenaries who had been advancing toward Alon were sent flying through the air and slammed into buildings.  
“Se, Seolrang!?”  
The noble, Milanon, who had been smirking just moments ago, recoiled in shock at the sudden appearance of Seolrang.  

“Aaaaaaaah!!!”  
He began to scream as Seolrang grabbed his head.  
Then—  

“He mocked you, Master. What should I do with him?”  
Seolrang turned to Alon with a bright smile, a stark contrast to the way she had been handling Milanon. Alon was at a loss for words.  
Without giving him a chance to intervene, Seolrang gripped the noble’s head tightly, as if she might crush it any moment, simply because he had mocked Alon.  

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“Should I kill him?”  
While it was undeniably satisfying, Alon couldn’t help but feel it was a bit too extreme.  

“At least not in such a crowded street…”
Alon, who had been wondering how to handle the situation, turned his attention to the murmuring around him.  
He soon realized that the white carriage that had been crossing the crowded street had stopped right in front of him. At the same time, he recognized where the carriage had come from.  

‘The Holy Kingdom, huh.’
As Alon noticed the paladins, he had that thought, and just then, the door of the stopped carriage opened, and someone began to step out.  
It was a girl dressed in black, but with red embroidery sewn in various places on her sacred attire.  

“Hm?”
Alon only tilted his head in confusion for a brief moment, feeling that her face seemed strangely familiar.  
“Ca- Cardinal!”

Alon heard the voice of the noble Milanon, whose head was still being held by Seolrang, as he called out to the girl. In that instant, Alon instinctively sensed that the situation was about to become more complicated.
If someone didn’t know what had just transpired, this scene would look like Alon and Seolrang were bullying an innocent noble.  
Milanon, who seemed eager to take advantage of the situation, put on an exaggeratedly pitiful expression. Alon wondered if he should try to clear up the misunderstanding.  

But contrary to his expectations, the girl who had stepped out of the carriage didn’t head toward the noble with his head caught in Seolrang’s grasp.  
No, she didn’t even glance at him, as if she had no interest in him at all. Instead, she walked straight toward Alon.  
“Eek!”

As Seolrang, wagging her tail wildly, moved aside, the girl approached Alon and took his left hand with both of hers.  
Then—
“It’s been so long.”

At that moment, as the girl’s red eyes—now revealed as she opened them—met his gaze, Alon realized who she was.  
The girl standing before him was none other than—  
“Lord.”

—Ytia Bludia.
In a street now filled with astonishment and silence, where the murmuring had died down, she smiled at him without a word.