Became the Patron of Villains

Chapter 40

The Blood Sand Bandits were a large organization that had been active in the southern desert of the continent for a very long time.

The number of members they commanded exceeded hundreds, and among them, most of the combatants were capable of imbuing their swords with magic—making them a force far too powerful to be considered mere bandits.

Given the massive power the Blood Sand Bandits possessed, it was only natural that they caught the attention of the nation of Colony, which was rooted in the desert.

After all, the area where the Blood Sand Bandits were operating was none other than Colony’s capital city.

Like the saying goes, “a nail that sticks out gets hammered down.” It would have been appropriate for the nation to take action and eliminate such a large bandit group.

After all, when bandits loiter around, the nation inevitably suffers damage in some way.

However, the reason the Blood Sand Bandits could continue to operate so boldly near the capital’s desert region was because they had powerful backing.

And not just any backing, but from the most long-standing Baba Yaga of Colony—none other than the warrior, Kalman Arents.

With Kalman supporting them, the group that should have been wiped out long ago grew from dozens to hundreds over a span of ten years.

Today, however, Draco, the leader of the Blood Sand Bandits and Kalman Arents’ trusted subordinate, was in a very bad mood.

“Jack is dead?”

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“Yes.”

The reason was that one of his men had gone out to raid a caravan today and was killed.

“Ha—”

Draco scowled in irritation. His frustration wasn’t from the loss of a comrade, but because one of the laborers he had painstakingly raised had died meaninglessly.

‘I had planned to train him a bit more and use him as an assassin.’

Clicking his tongue, Draco asked, “Who killed him?”

“It seems he was killed by a noble while targeting a mage.”

“A noble? Jack?”

“Yes. From what I heard, when the noble used magic, the middle of the desert froze over...”

“What’s their name?”

“We’re currently gathering information from our contacts in Colony, and we should have details by tomorrow.”

After a moment of contemplation, Draco responded, “Let me know as soon as we get the information.”

Naturally, Draco had no intention of letting the mage who killed Jack off the hook. @@@@

‘I must avenge the waste of my resources.’

Of course, considering the noble’s status in a foreign country, killing him could lead to all kinds of complications, but Draco wasn’t too concerned.

Killing someone in the desert wasn’t particularly unusual, and as long as there were no witnesses, most deaths in the desert were treated as disappearances.

And Draco was one of the most experienced at such acts.

Once he figured out the noble’s identity, he planned to wait for the right moment to bury him when he tried to leave the desert.

—If only ‘that’ hadn’t appeared.

“Gahk—!”

Draco coughed up dark crimson blood as he looked in despair at his hideout.

Just ten minutes ago, the secret hideout of the Blood Sand Bandits, which had proudly stood for years, lay in ruins.

But that wasn’t all.

The soldiers he had spent more than ten years raising were all either buried in the sand or crushed against the hideout walls, meeting their end.

And then—

“Hmm, is that all?”

A pair of sharp golden eyes scanned the surroundings before vanishing in an instant.

With a flash of gold lightning, the figure of Seolrang reappeared, holding in both hands—

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“This ends it.”

—the heads of the bandits.

The two heads retained expressions of tense anticipation, as if they were still unaware of what had happened, lying in ambush near the destroyed hideout for a surprise attack.

Thud—

Seolrang, disinterested, tossed the heads far away, leaving Draco with a look of disbelief, unable to comprehend the situation.

From start to finish—

Everything.

—

At Seolrang’s innocent grin, both Alon and Evan slowly opened their mouths in astonishment.

“You dealt with the Blood Sand Bandits...?”

“Yup!”

“...Why?”

Alon asked instinctively.

“Well, didn’t Master say so?”

Evan glanced at Alon as if to ask, ‘Did You?’, while Alon stared blankly at Evan. But that only lasted for a moment.

“You said you didn’t want to see them again.”

“I did say that... but—”

“If they’re gone, you won’t have to see them anymore, right?”

With a wide, innocent smile, Seolrang nodded as if she’d just solved a grand dilemma, leaving Alon with the same feeling he’d had when he first met Deus—a feeling that something about this was just... too much.

But that moment of bewilderment soon passed, and Alon suddenly thought of something and asked.

“Wait, so you wiped out the entire Blood Sand Bandit group all by yourself?”

“That’s right!”

Seolrang nodded nonchalantly, and Alon found himself falling silent without realizing it.

The Blood Sand Bandits he knew numbered in the hundreds, with most of the combatants capable of imbuing their weapons with magic—hardly the kind of group to be taken lightly.

Moreover, Draco, the leader of the bandits, was someone who, as far as Alon knew, would be able to wield an aura blade three years from now.

And yet, Seolrang had just single-handedly killed hundreds of knight-level combatants, including Draco, their leader...?

He knew that the title of Baba Yaga wasn’t something one could earn lightly, but... wasn’t this a bit stronger than he had expected?

Alon stared blankly at Seolrang, who was grinning carefreely, and suddenly recalled that in the future, she would become the embodiment of the sin of pride.

‘...’

With that thought, he found his posture becoming more reverent.

This was three days before their departure for the Forgotten City.

***

At the time when Alon left for the desert city of Colony, a secret meeting was taking place in a small tavern in the eastern part of Teria, the capital of the Kingdom of Asteria.

“So, why did you call for me, Duke?”

“I didn’t think your intuition had dulled to the point where you had to ask, Marquis,” said Duke Rimgrave, leader of the royalist faction.

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At those words, Marquis Philboid, leader of the noble faction, sat down naturally and spoke.

“I assume this is about Count Palatio.”

“You’re sharp. I called you because of Count Palatio... or more precisely, the ‘Kalpha’ that those brats gathered together,” Rimgrave replied.

The marquis nodded, as if no further explanation was needed.

Having spent decades navigating the treacherous world of politics, they both easily understood that the duke was seeking an alliance to bring down ‘Kalpha’.

The Kalpha group was an obnoxious organization that posed a threat to both the royalist and noble factions, and it needed to be dismantled as soon as possible.

In their world, yesterday’s enemies could become today’s allies depending on their interests, so it wasn’t difficult for them to join forces.

“So, what’s your plan?” Philboid cut straight to the point without delay.

Admiring the marquis’ quick judgment, having already calculated the costs and benefits in just a few words, the duke responded, “I plan to involve Rosario.”

“...Rosario?”

“Yes, to be specific, the ‘Cardinal’ of Rosario.”

The duke began to lay out his detailed plan for the marquis.

After some time had passed—

“And what’s the demand?” Philboid asked, as if there was no need to hear anything further.

“Half of the bribe to stuff the cardinal’s mouth.”

“Not bad.”

The two nobles exchanged thoughts, both smiling in satisfaction.

If their plan went well, the upstart Kalpha group, made up of rabble from the underworld, would crumble like a sandcastle.

“It won’t take long. In fact, I’ve already made contact.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

With that, both men left the tavern with smiles on their faces, heading in different directions.

Only two whiskey glasses, still filled with drink, were left behind in the rundown tavern.