Chapter 167 - The Ball (2)

Alon stared down at the statuette of “Kalanon, Receiver of Lightning” in Siyan’s hand.

'I suppose it does look like me.'

Of course, the statuette had no facial features, so he could not judge whether its face resembled his. What had prompted the thought was that, no matter how he looked at it, Kalanon’s clothing was remarkably similar to his own.

'Well, the coat is different, since I’m wearing the one the Red Magic Tower’s master gave me. But if that were my old coat... there really would be quite a few similarities.'

Evan considered it for a moment with an odd expression before answering.

“... Their clothes do look somewhat similar.”

“Their clothes, you say... Hmm.”

Siyan stared at Alon, then shrugged and set the statuette on her desk.

“Well, certainly a marquis of this Kingdom of Asteria could hardly be Kalanon, Receiver of Lightning, whom the Principality of Luxible has recently begun worshipping. Think nothing of it. It was merely a lighthearted joke.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Satisfied by his straightforward acceptance, Siyan nodded a couple of times and changed the subject.

“Now, I’ve heard lately that you’ve been involved in all manner of things. Would you tell me what you’ve been doing?”

“Certainly.”

Why was she asking?

Alon found it a little puzzling, but dutifully gave his report.

Then—

“... Hmm. The Chosen One.”

“Yes.”

Having finished recounting everything, Alon asked a question of his own.

“May I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Well, may I ask whether you summoned me because you remembered something?”

The last time they had met in her office, Siyan had explicitly said, [“I’ll summon you if anything else comes to mind.”]

“No, not particularly.”

“... Is that so?”

“This time, I simply summoned you because I wanted to see you. It has been quite some time.”

It was an answer he had not expected.

“I... see.”

“Does that displease you?”

“No, not at all.”

Siyan stared at Alon as he casually denied it, then gave a soft chuckle.

“Heh heh.”

“...?”

Puzzlement appeared on his face.

“I’m joking.”

“Pardon...?”

“I mean that I did not summon you for no reason.”

“Ah.”

“That is a rather subdued reaction.”

“My apologies.”

Alon bowed his head, wondering whether Siyan had always been this sort of character, but she said,

“There’s no need to apologize.”

Apparently quite pleased with teasing him, she smiled, propped her chin on her hand, and continued.

“As you said, I remembered something else.”

“What was it?”

“In the inherited memories, you said you had visited the World Tree in Greinif. You said you obtained something you needed there.”

“The World Tree in Greinif...?”

Siyan nodded at his question.

“Yes. Have you not heard of it? The nation to the south where the nonhuman races gather. The elves’ land within it is called Greinif.”

“Ah.”

Only then did Alon realize why the word Greinif had felt so unfamiliar.

'... If it’s the elves’ country, of course I wouldn’t know much about it.'

It was not a name he had never heard before. Even so, Greinif was unfamiliar to him because the elves’ land was a DLC area in Psychedelia.

He had never bought the DLC.

In other words, although he had heard the name Greinif a few times while playing, he had never once visited the region containing the nonhuman races’ nation.

Moreover, although relations between the allied kingdoms and the nonhuman races were not as bad as those with the empire, they were far from friendly, so the place was never even mentioned. As a result, Alon had even less information about it.

'Something I need is there...'

As Alon quietly considered this, Siyan added,

“Of course, there is no need to go immediately.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. More precisely, you need not go at all. It may seem strange for me to say so after bringing it up, but it is not a particularly welcoming place for humans.”

“... Yes, that is my understanding.”

Alon nodded, recalling the relationship between the allied kingdoms and the nonhuman kingdom. Siyan shrugged and leaned back in her chair.

“So take your time considering it. But if you do go, I would appreciate a report upon your return.”

“Understood.”

After a little more idle conversation, Alon left the office.

Once he had disappeared completely, Siyan gazed at the door in silence, rubbing her chin as though deep in thought.

“... Well, that will do. This should be enough.”

With an inscrutable smile, she rose from her seat.

####

Upon entering the ball, Alon inwardly marveled at the crowd, which was far larger than last time.

But before he could even look around, an endless barrage of greetings from the nobles descended upon him.

“Good evening, my lord!”

“Good evening!”

“I am—”

Only after spending over thirty minutes responding individually to the Sword Faction nobles, led by Duchess Xenonia and Count Altia, did he gain a measure of freedom.

Alon sighed.

'Balls really are exhausting.'

He moved to one side of the ballroom and was eating whichever egg tarts came to hand from the refreshments laid out around its edges when a man approached him.

“It has been a while, Marquis Pallatio.”

“... Hmm?”

The face was oddly familiar, though he could not immediately place it. After a brief moment of thought, he remembered who the man was.

“... Duke Merkillan?”

Philian’s second younger brother, and the current head of House Merkillan.

Duke Merkillan smiled and inclined his head slightly.

“I’m honored that you remember me.”

“... How could I forget?”

He truly meant it. Although he had failed to recognize the duke immediately, Alon could hardly forget the ducal House Merkillan.

Partly, that was because the marquis’s House Merkillan was home to Philian, who could be recruited as one of the protagonist’s companions. But the strongest impression of all came from the fact that it housed a statue of Alon.

A statue of him that not even his own House Pallatio possessed.

“... That is true.”

Duke Merkillan looked sheepish as he answered.

Alon glanced around.

'They said plenty of nobles from other countries were coming. Apparently they were right.'

At first, greeting the Sword Faction nobles had kept him too busy to notice, but looking around now, he saw plenty of unfamiliar faces at this ball.

Among them was—

'... Shtalian V?'

The monarch of Ashtalon was here as well, but it was the knight standing close behind him who drew Alon’s attention.

The knight was an imposing giant who looked well over two meters tall even at a glance. Though distinctly out of place in the ballroom, no one could guess who the figure was, since the helmet concealed even the eyes.

Alon, however, had little difficulty recognizing him.

Kurak the Engraver.

He was a lizardman from the nonhuman lands Siyan had mentioned earlier, a formidable warrior who would become a key fighting asset against the Five Great Sins in Psychedelia.

'And a character designed to tempt you into buying the DLC.'

When fighting the Five Great Sins in Psychedelia, NPCs formed the core of the party. Depending on the country where a Sin emerged and the player’s actions up to that point, relevant NPCs would join as companions to help.

Kurak the Engraver was one such character, assisting in battle when the Five Great Sins appeared in Ashtalon, but he stood apart from the other NPCs.

In other words, he was strong enough to somewhat lower the controller-smashing difficulty of the Five Great Sins.

... Granted, that only brought it down from Hell Mode to something like Very Hard Mode. But in Psychedelia, which otherwise offered no way to lower the difficulty, even that was tremendous.

Psychedelia’s DLC allowed players to summon Kurak for battles against the Five Great Sins, rather than receiving his help just once in Ashtalon. Completing the DLC storyline also let them summon other powerful nonhuman warriors comparable to him for those battles.

That was why most players who wanted even a slightly easier experience bought the DLC.

... Except those with a petty sense of gaming pride, Alon included.

'I had no idea he was this big.'

Kurak, who had been looking straight ahead until then, turned his head. Though his helmet hid his eyes, his gaze unmistakably landed on Alon.

For a moment, Alon wondered whether he should establish a connection with him. Unfortunately, he knew nothing about Kurak. The base game revealed neither his reasons for helping the protagonist fight the Five Great Sins nor his goals or motivations.

With no clues at all that might help him form a connection, Alon readily abandoned the idea and was about to look away when—

Kurak flinched!

“...?”

Alon saw the enormous body inside the knight’s armor give a slight jolt.

But he had little time to wonder about it.

“... My lord?”

Duke Merkillan’s voice reminded Alon that they had been conversing, and he inclined his head slightly.

“Ah, forgive me.”

“Not at all. But might I ask you a favor?”

“... A favor?”

“Yes. It isn’t particularly difficult...”

Though inwardly puzzled behind his expressionless face, Alon replied,

“Please, go ahead.”

“... Well, I was wondering whether you might write a letter to my elder brother...”

“By your elder brother... do you mean Philian?”

“Yes. You see—”

Duke Merkillan faltered, looking a little embarrassed, then explained what was on his mind. After hearing the full story, Alon summed it up.

“So he intends to give the existing statue to Deus Makalian of Callivan and erect a new statue of me... but he wants to spend too much on it?”

“Yes, precisely. I’m not sure whether my brother has a poor sense of money, but he suggested making it entirely out of gold this time... And he simply won’t listen to me.”

“Now that I think about it, perhaps he gave it to Lord Deus just to have an excuse to erect a new statue,” Merkillan muttered, then heaved a deep sigh.

The anguish carried on that breath left Alon speechless.

'... But why is he so determined to put up a statue of me?'

Of course, he had helped Philian, but no matter how he thought about it, he could not understand why the man would go this far.

... And he doubted he ever would.

For now, Alon nodded in acknowledgment.

“Thank you. I’ll leave it in your hands, then.”

The duke sighed with relief.

Alon had done nothing wrong, yet somehow he was left with the peculiar feeling that he had...

####

Late that night, as the first day’s ball began drawing to a close, Alon prepared to return to his lodgings.

... In truth, he had wanted to leave for hours.

But the nobles had kept him occupied without a moment’s rest, leaving him exhausted, as though he had done half a year’s worth of talking.

Having finally escaped, he was making his way through a passage toward his assigned lodgings when he encountered a very familiar face.

“Hm...?”

“... Sircal?”

It was Sircal the Swift, accompanied by her younger sister Jenira.

Alon tilted his head for a moment, but soon guessed why they were here.

'Didn’t they say the Thunder Serpent tribe had joined hands with the Principality of Luxible?'

As he recalled the rumor Evan had mentioned in passing, the two women approached him.

“It’s been—”

Before Alon could finish his greeting, they spoke, bowing deeply and respectfully.

“We pay our respects to Lord Kalanon, Receiver of Lightning.”

“We pay our respects to Lord Kalanon, Receiver of Lightning.”

“Hm...?”

An endless stream of question marks appeared above Alon’s head.

Meanwhile, behind a pillar to one side of the corridor—

'... What did they say?'

Karmakses III, who had quietly followed Marquis Pallatio out to make a secret proposal that absolutely no one else could be allowed to hear, was also watching the scene, his mouth hanging open at this unbelievable truth(?).

'Marquis Pallatio is... a god?'