Raising Villains the Right Way

The battle with the goblins ended in victory. Thanks to the knights and mercenaries responding calmly, the frontlines held strong, and Alon’s magic once again destroyed a detachment of enemies who were moving to attack the nobles from behind, quickly tilting the battle in their favor. Of course, with hundreds of mutated goblins, there were casualties, but the number was small given the scale of the battle.

The final blow came when a knight pierced the head of the last goblin, ending the battle completely. As soon as the soldiers confirmed the battle was over, they sighed in deep relief and turned their gazes toward Alon, who was looking down at the goblin corpses. Despite having just fought a life-or-death struggle, he remained expressionless, as if the battle had left no impact on him, causing the mercenaries to look at him with awe. They couldn’t forget the sight of Alon turning dozens of goblins into mere chunks of meat without even changing his expression.

However, while the knights and mercenaries admired Alon, he was thinking, ‘I nearly died in a single strike…!’ Though his face showed no sign, inside he was working hard to calm his wildly racing heart. Despite bearing the Insignia of the Impure, which allowed him to cast three times more spells than usual, after using walls and shields twice each, he had been reduced to a mere mortal due to the limitations of his mana capacity.

‘It’s a good thing the knights won,’ he thought. Though the odds of the knights and mercenaries losing were slim, even against mutated goblins, when he had lost all means of self-defense, he had felt a desperate fear.

‘Perhaps I should have just dropped out earlier… No, it was a good thing I stayed close… but more importantly…’ Alon praised his past self for acting rationally and, having calmed his heart, turned his gaze to the goblin before him, his expression growing serious. He knew all too well the significance of the purple amethyst emerging from the goblin’s body.

“Why… a divine descent?”

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This was a strange phenomenon that occurred among the monsters of the continent when an Outer God tried to descend upon the world. The monsters affected by divine descent became more ferocious and physically stronger. While the current group of soldiers could handle the monsters they would encounter on their journey to the Duke’s territory, Alon was concerned about the fact that the divine descent had occurred at all.

The phenomenon meant that an Outer God would soon descend upon the land. Typically, such gods could not descend unless one of the Five Great Sins manifested, but now, even these borderland gods were about to arrive.

‘This… can’t be good…’

The descent of Outer Gods was a grave matter for Alon. While not as catastrophic as the Great Sins, if these gods started rampaging, entire kingdoms could vanish easily. There were only six kingdoms on the continent excluding the Empire, meaning a one-third chance that his future plans would be destroyed. In fact, if he were lucky enough to even be able to think about his future at that point, he would consider it fortunate. Alon’s expression grew serious as he stared at the goblin.

However, there were others who looked even more serious than Alon—so serious, in fact, that their expressions seemed to suggest they had lost everything.

Those individuals were Count Crylde and Count Edolon.

***

A few days after the appearance of the mutated goblin, with only one day left until their arrival at the Duke’s estate, Alon experienced two changes in that short time. One was that the nobles, who once looked at him with blatant contempt and ridicule, especially when Counts Crylde and Edolon made their snide comments, no longer displayed such expressions. The second change was:

“Count Palatio, this is some meat I brought from my estate. Would you like to try it?”

“Count, if it pleases you, I could offer some support to your domain. What do you think?”

Count Crylde and Count Edolon, who had spent the past few days mocking Alon, were now fawning over him, trying to curry favor. The two counts, who now seemed ready to give Alon anything he wanted, clung to his side, flattering him with servile smiles, while Alon remained indifferent. But the counts were desperate—truly desperate.

The display of power Alon had shown just days ago was too strong to dismiss as mere “luck” in claiming the title of Count Palatio. Moreover, they still remembered what the 3rd-tier mage, whom Baron Amon had brought to flaunt his wealth, said that night: that Alon’s magic was undoubtedly beyond a 2nd-tier level.

Upon hearing that, both counts began to reconsider the rumors circulating in society, wondering if they were wrong about Alon. While there were still some unresolved doubts, that no longer mattered. What was important was that the two counts had realized Alon was hiding a power strong enough to not need protection.

This meant the power that had supposedly wiped out Avalon in a single day, the power held by Count Palatio, could be real. With this realization, their only option was to quickly win Alon’s favor. While some might argue that it would be better to investigate the situation thoroughly before making any moves, this didn’t apply to those who knew the Palatio family well.

The two counts, having witnessed firsthand the brutality of the Palatio family’s notorious behavior, knew how cruel they could be. Although Alon, the third son, had never shown such behavior himself, the counts were convinced that Alon shared the family’s cruel and ruthless nature. After all, the Palatio family had been full of miscreants since his grandfather’s time.

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Thanks to this, Alon had enjoyed a luxurious lifestyle in recent days. Instead of sweet potatoes and corn, he ate meat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and the wine they occasionally brought along was also excellent. However, despite receiving these gifts for several consecutive days, Alon’s expression did not soften, still preoccupied with thoughts of the goblin from a few days ago.

‘Who could it be…?’

No matter how much Alon pondered, no clear answer emerged. The divine descent was merely a sign that an Outer God was about to descend, and there was no way to know exactly which god or when and where it would occur.

Although it was meaningless to dwell on it, Alon couldn’t help but worry, knowing that his future plans could be completely ruined in an instant. He could go from being a noble to a commoner in the blink of an eye, which was why he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“I’ll have to gather as much information as I can once I reach the estate.”

As he thought this, he glanced at the nobles beside him, who were eagerly trying to make up for their previous behavior, even at the expense of their pride. He was once again reminded of the Palatio family’s infamous reputation.

‘…I didn’t think they would react this way over just a slight doubt about a rumor.’

As Alon watched the counts’ desperate display, he realized how deeply the rumors about his family had affected them. However, despite understanding their fear, he had no intention of easing their anxieties. Alon considered himself cool-headed, but he also had a petty side.

The counts’ performance finally came to an end when Alon arrived at the Duke Rotegre’s estate.

***

As soon as Alon arrived at the Duke Rotegre’s estate, what greeted him was an absurdly large mansion—no, multiple mansions.

‘How many mansions are there inside this estate? Of course, the rich would have this many,’ he thought, as he noticed the variety of mansions, almost as if someone with diverse tastes in interior design had collected them. Alon soon realized that all these mansions belonged to the Duke’s concubines, causing him to shake his head in disbelief.

‘How does his body even survive?’ he wondered briefly, but upon arriving at the ballroom in the middle of a grand party, he was once again shocked.

Everything he saw screamed wealth. Even the wine glasses, which one wouldn’t normally pay much attention to, were rimmed with gold. The chandeliers, made entirely of gold, made Alon feel the urge to steal one and sell it as he wandered around the ballroom.

Naturally, the ballroom was filled with many nobles. As expected, the Duke of Rotegre, who appeared incredibly thin, was there chatting with numerous nobles. Alon didn’t bother trying to join their conversations. It wasn’t hard to guess that there would be no benefit in doing so—especially in this ballroom, which felt even worse than the previous one he had attended.

Instead of mingling, Alon decided to stand nearby, snacking on food and eavesdropping on the nobles’ conversations. After all, his servant, Evan, had already gone off to contact the information guild as soon as they arrived at the estate.

As Alon savored a dessert that resembled an egg tart alongside some wine, he overheard an interesting piece of news from the nobles’ conversation.

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“Baron Daldoran, have you heard the news?”

“What news do you mean?”

“You know, the rumor that Duke Altia and Count Zenonia not only formed an alliance but are also trying to establish a faction?”

“Ah, that rumor? Yes, I’ve heard about it.”

The two nobles, acting as though they were discussing some great secret, moved to a corner and began whispering. However, with his enhanced hearing, Alon could easily pick up their conversation.

“But is that true? I couldn’t believe they had allied in the first place. If they really form a faction, they could overpower all the current factions combined.”

“Exactly. It might be something unprecedented.”

Alon was a little surprised upon hearing this, but his expression didn’t change much. Even if such rumors were true, he didn’t think those two would be able to maintain their alliance for long.

As he pondered this, Alon couldn’t help but widen his eyes in surprise at the delicious taste of the egg tart in his mouth, nodding in approval. “This is good.” Without hesitation, he grabbed another and popped it into his mouth.

However, just then, the conversation he was listening to took an even more interesting turn.

“But that’s not the real issue.”

“What do you mean? Is there an even bigger rumor?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have started if there wasn’t.”

“Mmm… what is it, then?”

“This is something I heard very discreetly, so don’t go spreading it around. I’ve heard that neither Duke Altia nor Count Zenonia is the leader of this faction.”

“…What? Then who is?”

“Mmm… Count Palatio.”

“…Count Palatio?”

“Yes, the leader of the faction… is said to be Count Palatio.”

“Is that true?”

“Of course. Do you think I would lie about something like this?”

“Mmm…? What?”

Hearing this, Alon instinctively turned to look at the nobles discussing the secret and found himself gaping in shock at what they had just revealed.