Fulton could not fully comprehend the current situation.  

No, it was only natural that he couldn’t understand.  

He had never once seen an elf in person.  

The relationship between the Allied Kingdom and the elves was not particularly good.  

Even in the slave market, he had barely caught a glimpse of an elf.  

Yet now, before his very eyes, there were more than ten of them.  

And not just any elves.  

They were unmistakably formidable warriors.  

Upon confirming their prowess, Fulton immediately enveloped his body in mana.  

He still couldn’t grasp the situation entirely.  

Why were elves near the Kingdom of Asteria?  

Why were they mentioning Marquis Palatio with such fury?  

Fulton had no idea.  

But there was one thing he understood with absolute certainty.  

“Danger.”  

The situation was not in his favor.  

“I must escape immediately.”  

Fulton released his mana without hesitation.  

A wave of blue energy scattered in all directions.  

The elves reacted instinctively, moving to intercept him.  

But before they could fully respond, the mana Fulton unleashed transformed into a black mist, shrouding their vision.  

“!?”  

As the elves momentarily hesitated in confusion, Fulton smirked and turned away.  

‘You should have captured me instead of wasting time talking.’  

In terms of combat ability, Fulton was actually among the weakest within the Black Hand’s executive ranks.  

Some even considered him too weak to deserve his position.  

Yet, despite such evaluations, no one in the Black Hand ever protested his status.  

There was one reason for that.  

His stealth abilities were absurdly overpowered.  

Particularly his unique skill—transforming his mana into mist.  

Once deployed, even those attempting to detect him with magic would fail to locate him.  

‘First, I need to escape and report this situation.’  

Fulton immediately moved—  

And lost consciousness.  

“-?”  

His mind flickered back to awareness in an instant.  

The first thing he registered was an excruciating pain in his side.  

The next realization struck—  

Something had hit him within his own mist and sent him flying.  

And finally, his last discernible thought—  

“Hmm—so this is the one who tried to harm the Great One’s dear friend.”  

“Kugh—!”  

A massive hand gripped his neck, lifting him effortlessly, as if his skull was about to be crushed.  

It belonged to a towering lizardman, his massive frame dwarfing anything Fulton had ever seen.  

As the lizardman’s menacing expression loomed over him, Fulton’s eyes widened in shock.  

“……Lizard, don’t you dare steal our credit!”  

An elf’s voice suddenly cut in.  

The lizardman scoffed, tightening his grip around Fulton’s throat.  

“What nonsense. We simply caught what you failed to.”  

“You didn’t even know where he was before we found him!”  

“Regardless, if you had let him escape, the Great One’s dear friend—the Marquis—could have been inconvenienced.”  

“We would have captured him without your interference.”  

As if following a script, the two began bickering loudly.  

Fulton could only watch, utterly baffled.  

The ones standing before him were elves and a lizardman—  

Races rarely, if ever, seen within the Allied Kingdom.  

And judging from their conversation—  

It seemed they were guarding Marquis Palatio.  

Not just guarding, but fiercely claiming the right to do so, even speaking with utmost respect.  

Which meant—  

‘……Just who is he?’  

Fulton recalled the seemingly ordinary appearance of Marquis Palatio.  

At that moment—  

“You elves are too loud. More importantly—”  

A chilling grin spread across the lizardman’s face.  

“Shall we have a little chat first?”  

As the lizardman’s gaze settled upon him, Fulton realized—  

“Oh.”  

Something had gone terribly wrong.  

***

“What do you mean by that?”  

“Well, to put it simply—I’m asking if you’re in love.”  

Siyan’s voice was as casual as if she were asking about dinner plans.  

Alon hesitated before shaking his head slowly.  

“There is no such relationship between us.”  

“Is that so?”  

“But may I ask why you are inquiring about this?”  

Siyan tapped her index finger lightly against her lips, then spoke nonchalantly.  

“Just something that’s been on my mind.”  

“……Something on your mind?”  

“Yes. It’s not something the Marquis needs to concern himself with. Just a personal curiosity.”  

“May I ask what you’re curious about?”  

At Alon’s question, Siyan paused, letting out a thoughtful hum before flashing an enigmatic smile.  

“I’ll tell you the next time you come to see me.”  

“Is that so?”  

“That way, you’ll come straight to me as soon as your work is done, won’t you?”  

Alon flinched for a brief moment.  

‘She knew.’  

Maintaining a neutral expression, he averted his gaze.  

“……My apologies, Your Majesty.”  

“It’s fine. It was just a jest.”  

Siyan let out a soft chuckle.  

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she furrowed her brows slightly.  

Letting out a small sigh, she extended something towards Alon.  

It was a box filled with sweet potatoes.  

“My apologies. I had forgotten.”  

“……It’s nothing.”  

“Eat. I had them prepared when the cardinal was visiting, so they should still be warm.”  

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Siyan handed him the sweet potatoes.  

Alon respectfully bowed his head.  

“I will eat them gratefully.”  

“Take your time.”  

Siyan watched with satisfaction as Alon, now accustomed to the routine, skillfully took a bite.  

***

‘……Why do I feel like a monkey in a zoo?’  

Though the pressure had eased compared to last time, a strange feeling still lingered.  

For a while, the only sound that filled the air was the quiet munching of sweet potatoes.  

“Now then, let’s hear your report.”  

After confirming that Alon had finished eating, Siyan straightened her posture.  

Alon slowly recalled everything that had happened in Greynifra and then began recounting the events without leaving out a single detail.  

Some time passed as the report continued.  

“Hoh~ So, in the end, you’ve become the god of the elves?”  

“……Something like that.”  

As Siyan asked with clear amusement, Alon hesitated but ultimately admitted to it.  

She nodded, as if she had finally understood something.  

“So that’s why you said they were a great help.”  

She pondered for a moment.  

“By any chance, have you recalled any additional memories beyond this?”  

Siyan shrugged.  

“No, I haven’t.”  

“……Is that so?”  

Then—  

“Well, there is one. It’s not related to the marquis, though.”  

She added with a playful smile.  

Alon remained silent for a moment before responding.  

“I see.”  

‘This conversation is going to take a while.’  

“Indeed. I’ll tell you when I recall the next memory.”  

Then, she lifted her index finger and gently pulled up the corner of Alon’s lips.  

“But if I keep dragging this out too long, you might lose interest. So, I’ll give you a little hint to keep you intrigued.”  

Her voice was as composed as if she were toying with him in the palm of her hand.  

“In the fleeting memory I saw, Cardinal Yutia appeared—though she looked somewhat different from now.”  

“A different appearance?”  

“Yes. Her hair was swept to the side, and her attire was different too.”  

Siyan mimicked the gesture with her free hand, sweeping her hair aside.  

At the slight pressure on his face, Alon barely reacted, and Siyan eventually withdrew her fingers.  

“That’s all. I’ll tell you the rest next time.”  

“Is that so?”  

“Oh, and just so you know—”  

A playful laugh echoed in the audience chamber.  

“Yutia looks quite beautiful with her hair styled that way.”  

“……I see.”  

Alon’s response came a beat slower.  

Siyan’s smile deepened even further.  

“Then, I suppose I’ll see you in three months—or rather, four, since there’s the Allied Kingdom conference.”  

With that, the audience came to an end.  

Somehow, Alon felt as though his energy had been drained.  

When he finally returned to the inner castle, he saw Yutia waiting for him along with Evan.  

“Have you finished all your tasks, My Lord?”  

“Yes, I’ve had my audience with Her Majesty, so I should be leaving now. But—”  

Alon, who had been answering naturally, suddenly paused with a peculiar expression.  

In just a short moment—  

“……Are you in a good mood?”  

Yutia’s expression seemed noticeably brighter than usual.  

“Hmm? Do I look like I’m in a good mood? Maybe it’s because I got to see you, My Lord.”  

“……Is that so?”  

She seemed even more pleased than that, though…  

“Yes. And on top of that, I had the chance to speak with someone who I can actually converse with.”  

“Are you referring to Her Majesty?”  

“That’s right, My Lord. Lately, I’ve been moving around quite a bit, meeting various people, and surprisingly, Her Majesty is much easier to talk to than I expected.”  

“You’ve seen her before, haven’t you?”  

“I never had the chance to have a proper conversation with her until now. Anyway, she’s a very ‘good person.’ Maybe that’s why I’m feeling this way.”  

‘Well, if that’s the case…’ 

Alon nodded without further inquiry.  

Yutia then asked.  

“So, My Lord, where are you headed now?”  

“I have business in the north, so I’m on my way there.”  

“Then we can travel together.”  

Alon raised an eyebrow.  

“……? You’re heading north?”  

“Yes, I have some matters to attend to there.”  

“……If it’s something in the north, does it have to do with Caliban’s forward base?”  

“That’s correct.”  

Alon nodded, finding no reason to refuse.  

“Then we can travel together.”  

And just like that, their journey was set.  

“That’s a good thing.”  

Yutia muttered as she glanced at Alon.  

“……Is that so?”  

“Yes. As for why—”  

Her eyes curved softly, like delicate petals in the breeze.  

“When we went to see the moonflowers last time, I already told you, didn’t I? So I won’t say it again.”  

***

The next day.  

Alon and Yutia departed Teria and set off for Caliban.  

Along the way, Yutia revealed her reason for heading north.  

‘Because of the Pope, huh.’  

Rosario’s Pope, Leretelios III, had been secluded for several years now, rarely showing himself.  

She explained that she was traveling north under his orders, but Alon felt something was off.  

No—more precisely, he found the Pope’s reclusion suspicious.  

‘In the original story, the Pope did go into seclusion, but by the time the plot started, he wasn’t supposed to be secluded yet, was he?’  

Keeping that thought in mind, Alon eventually arrived in Caliban after about a month.  

He immediately headed toward Deus’ estate.  

And there—  

He saw it.  

A lavishly adorned statue, far more extravagant than anything at the marquis’ estate.  

Before it, dozens of knights were fervently praying.  

Rendered speechless, Alon was then led to the office by a knight.  

And the sight that greeted him next was—  

“Brother, how many times must I tell you? You need to tilt your wrist exactly five degrees!”  

“L-Like this?”  

“No! Not like that! Like this~ Like this!”  

“……Like this?”  

Deus struggling with something—  

And Sili meticulously correcting his posture.  

For some reason, Alon felt an overwhelming sense of impending doom.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep