Chapter 283 : Treatment (2)
Stalian V stared at that thing in his hand with a confused expression.
A blue proselytizing letter.
No, it was hard to even call it a proper proselytizing letter.
After all, he worshiped Sironia, the Goddess of the Moon, not Kalannon, the lightning receiver.
So unlike the one he received from Rosario, this blue proselytizing letter posed no political burden to Stalian V.
And yet, the reason his expression was clouded... was because of the followers of Kalannon.
First of all, there was Saintess Silli, who was currently gathering believers and expanding the Kalannon religion.
She was the one and only younger sister of Deus Macallian, Caliban's First Sword.
And Deus Macallian cherished his sister deeply.
In short—he was a textbook siscon.
That reason alone was enough to give Stalian V a pounding headache.
If he overreacted to this letter and ended up provoking that strategic bomber Deus Macallian, who was already hard enough for Caliban to control?
That was a scenario that simply must not happen, and one Stalian V refused to even imagine.
Still, he had to consider the possibility.
Because he knew all too well that Deus Macallian was even more reckless than people assumed.
Last time, he personally showed up and threatened to cut off someone's head just because his son had made an offhand remark.
And what if he ignored the proselytizing letter this time?
If Deus Macallian flew off the handle and came charging in...?
Sure, maybe they could mobilize everything they had and deal with it.
In fact, since Deus Macallian would be making the first move, Ashtalon could politically frame itself as the victim.
But the real problem was...
It was obvious that a massive amount of resources would be needed just to stop Deus.
And it would be near impossible to quickly find capable allies to help restrain him.
In other words, if Deus Macallian made a move, no matter how things played out, Stalian V would only come out at a loss.
"Haa—"
And beyond that, there were plenty of other complications.
Even just the mages the Kalannon saintess had brought together would be a huge headache if they became hostile.
But more than anything else, the reason he couldn't afford to ignore Kalannon was...
Because Marquis Palatio was connected to Kalannon.
The connection between the Marquis and Kalannon was still the subject of much speculation.
Some said the Marquis was Kalannon himself.
Others claimed he was merely Kalannon's apostle.
But the truth didn't matter.
From Stalian V's perspective, what mattered was that the Marquis was entangled with Kalannon.
With just one word from the Marquis...
There was a real possibility that those deranged strategic bombers would gather and reduce Ashtalon to rubble.
And on top of that...
"Your Majesty, I'm not the most patient person."
"..."
"I hope there won't be any more unfortunate incidents like this in the future."
The girl's voice remained etched into his memory.
So vivid it felt like it was whispering in his ear.
A breathtakingly beautiful face.
And yet, the eerie terror that made him hold his breath was unforgettable.
That's why Stalian V silently stared down at the letter for a while.
"Whew—"
He let out a short sigh, wondering how things had come to this.
Then, finally managing to move his stiff fingers, he unfolded the letter.
####
"Oh."
Alon let out a quiet gasp as soon as they neared the Eastern Kingdom.
The scenery in the distance looked unlike any other kingdom he had seen.
The oriental-style buildings gave off an air of mystique at a glance.
And the village view, reminiscent of martial arts novels or fantasy games, was breathtaking.
"Wow... it's like a painting."
"Amazing."
Evan and Penia followed with their own exclamations of awe.
[Hmph, not bad,]
Even Basiliora, despite grumbling, was clearly absorbed in the view.
At last, the group entered the Eastern Kingdom.
Smoothly and without incident.
Yes—up until their arrival, there were no problems.
Up until they arrived.
Alon looked ahead.
The moment they stepped down from the carriage,
They were met with a chilling scene—spears raised toward them as if they had been waiting.
"Marquis, were we supposed to start from a situation like this?"
Evan asked nervously, his body tense.
Alon shook his head, though he couldn't help but wonder.
He hadn't exactly expected a warm welcome.
Sure, he fought alongside the beastkin 700 years ago and defeated Baarma, but that was 700 years ago.
Except for the long-lived spirit beasts, few would remember that event.
Still...
'Even so, to be treated with this much suspicion...?'
Alon scanned the soldiers.
Their eyes brimmed with hostility, as if facing a mortal enemy.
Just as his doubts grew deeper—
"Surrender."
A wolf beastkin stepped forward from between the spear-wielding soldiers.
He wore a slightly more ornate armor than the others.
But the hatred on his face matched the rest.
"...I'd like to have a conversation, if possible."
Alon offered after some thought.
"Hmph! What could I possibly talk about with a filthy human who incited rebellion?!"
The wolf beastkin drew his sword and held it to Alon's neck.
The situation escalated from a single sentence.
Just as it was about to become a headache—
"Haa—"
A sigh came from beside him.
Soft, but full of irritation.
And then—
"I'll give you five seconds."
Radan's voice rang out, and all eyes turned toward him.
The ever-playful smile on his face had disappeared.
The usual mirth in his eyes was gone, replaced by cold indifference.
The mischievous air around him had twisted into a strange pressure.
Radan stepped forward.
"Put that sword down. Now."
A chilling warning aimed at the soldier threatening Alon.
The soldier scowled.
"Five."
But Radan began counting, unfazed.
"Four."
At the same time, Alon recalled a moment from the past—
The time Radan casually took off a ship captain's head.
"Three."
That's why—
"It's alright, Radan."
Alon decided to stop Radan.
"Brother. But these guys...!"
Radan's face twisted with frustration.
Truthfully, Alon wasn't in a great mood either.
He had come to the East solely on Hazad's word, but he never expected to be treated like this.
Still, if Radan acted out here, not only would things become more complicated, but it might take much longer to accomplish what they came to do.
That's why he intervened.
"I'm really fine."
"…Understood."
Radan clenched his jaw in displeasure but took a step back.
The beastkin who had pointed a sword at Alon now looked even more agitated.
Noticing this, Alon calmly explained.
"I am Marquis Palatio, here by introduction from Hazad, the Sage-God of the Lizardmen. If it's not too much trouble, could you please explain what's going on here?"
A polite request.
Perhaps thanks to that...
The beastkin withdrew his sword and slid it back into its sheath.
Alon sighed in relief, thinking, Now we can talk.
"Bind them."
"…???"
With those next words, his mind went blank.
To cut to the chase, Alon was dragged away, tied up by soldiers.
"Marquis, aren't we in serious trouble here?"
Evan whispered anxiously.
His concern was warranted.
Alon's party had been restrained to the point that they couldn't do anything.
It was clearly an unpleasant situation, but there were two reasons why Alon tolerated it.
The first was the original goal—gathering more information about the Words of Sin or Sin itself.
He couldn't afford to make enemies of the beastkin.
If he'd been to the Eastern Kingdom even once through Psychedelia, maybe things would be different.
But unfortunately, this region was only available as DLC, and Alon had never set foot in it.
On top of that, Hazad had only given him the most basic of briefings.
In other words—
If Alon wanted to achieve anything here, he had to gather information first.
That information would have to come from the beastkin.
And the second reason was simple confidence.
Alon could easily break out of these restraints.
And that wasn't all.
While Evan might not be able to, both Penia and Radan confirmed with eye contact that they could break free at any time too.
In other words, they were in no real danger.
Having reached that conclusion, Alon remained alert even as they were led away.
Then, upon entering a large building, he saw it.
"So you're the ones? The humans from outside."
A flamboyantly dressed man stood before them, the type whose face practically screamed narcissist.
"…I am Marquis Palatio, here by introduction from Hazad, the Sage-God of the Lizardmen. If it's not too much trouble, could you please explain what's going on here?"
Alon introduced himself once more.
But the man sneered openly.
"That's unfortunate. That won't be possible."
"Why not?"
"Because you're humans."
"It sounds like something happened involving humans, but we have nothing to do with it."
"That's what they all say. Every last bug we've caught said the same thing."
Alon could see it clearly.
The deep disgust in the man's eyes, and the mocking smile at his lips.
And then—
"Well, whether or not you're actually involved with them… we'll find out once you're dead."
At the man's signal, the nearby soldiers began raising their spears toward them one by one.
Seeing this, Alon realized something.
He didn't know what had happened in the Eastern Kingdom, but…
Contrary to what Hazad had said, there was never any room for dialogue in the first place.
And the moment he recognized that, he began preparing to release his mana.
Radan and Penia did the same.
Just as they were about to act—
"What's going on?"
A woman's voice rang out from the direction of the door, which had been tightly shut until now.
Her voice was clear and elegant, like the scent of lilies in the air.
But there was something oddly familiar about it.
As soon as Alon heard it, he turned his head.
And there she was.
A woman with large wolf ears like delicate snowflakes, and white hair.
Her clothes weren't fancy.
But what did stand out was the beautiful sword at her waist.
Still—
"Gasp...!"
Just her appearance caused the entire room to stir.
All the beastkin lowered their weapons and bowed deeply to her.
An unmistakable sign of respect.
And it didn't end there.
"We greet the Great Race…!"
Even the arrogant beastkin who had flaunted his hatred of Alon moments earlier widened his eyes and hurriedly bowed his head.
"What's going on?"
The woman asked again, her tone calm and detached.
"We were just about to execute these disgusting traitors' allies."
The man reported, bowing even lower.
The woman, with a slightly vacant look unlike the others, slowly approached everyone.
Then—
"…?"
The moment she saw Alon's face—
"!"
She froze.
As if turned to stone.
And then—
"Ah—"
Alon finally realized.
Why her voice had sounded so familiar.
And beyond that, why her appearance felt so familiar as well.
At the same time, a question arose.
To his knowledge, she wasn't supposed to be in the Eastern Kingdom—she should've been on the continent.
But there was no doubt.
The woman before him was the one he knew.
"Ria…?"
He called her name.
"…Divine One?"
Her once still tail gave a small flick.
And then—
"…Huh?"
The beastkin who had been sneering at Alon just moments earlier realized something.
Something had gone very, very wrong.