Daily life in Roadmill provided Alon with a great sense of satisfaction.
Though it had only been about three days, life in Roadmill was perfectly suited for enjoying the quintessential noble lifestyle he had envisioned.
Waking up when he wanted.
Sleeping when he wanted.
Eating when he wanted.
It was a place where he could, without hesitation, practice the three things he believed made a human happiest: the freedom to do as one pleased.
"...Whew."
As the funeral for Leo Palatio, the eldest son of the Palatio family, dragged on, Alon let out a silent sigh and looked ahead.
There lay Leo, his complexion bloodless, resting where Tonio and Count Palatio had once lain.
Alon couldn't help but wear an expression of sheer disbelief.
'I don't even know where to begin pointing out the flaws.'
The reason Alon felt this way was that Leo's death was far too distorted from what he knew.
'Leo's death was supposed to be set in stone for six years from now.'
He shifted his gaze, scanning Leo's body.
Since the body was dressed in formal attire, no wounds were visible to the naked eye, but…
'Evening primroses.'
According to the kingdom's tradition, blue flowers known as evening primroses were placed over major scars that led to death or significant pre-existing wounds.
On Leo's body, evening primroses were placed over his chest.
'...Death by a blade piercing the heart, then.'
While considering the cause of death, Alon wondered who could have possibly done such a thing.
'...Well, if I really think about it, there are plenty of candidates.'
He was well aware that Leo had been committing all sorts of villainous acts in the underworld.
It wouldn't be strange no matter what happened to him.
The number of people Leo had killed, directly or indirectly, likely exceeded a thousand.
Nevertheless, the reason Alon remained puzzled was his knowledge of Leo's future.
'Who was it...? Who on earth killed Leo?'
With that thought, Alon looked around.
A considerable number of people had gathered for Leo's funeral.
The servants, vassals, and knights of the Count's family were all present.
He had heard that several other nobles had come and gone, but by the time Alon returned, those who had visited to pay their respects had already departed.
In other words, the only people currently attending the funeral were those who worked for the Palatio family.
And.
"...."
Every single one of them was cowering, desperately trying to avoid Alon's gaze.
A servant, who used to complain about Alon and joke that he would have died in the streets if he'd been born a commoner, was now sweating profusely with his head bowed low.
A knight, who used to pick a fight every time Alon left the mansion for an errand, was now rolling his eyes to the side to avoid eye contact.
'I suppose it's understandable. If the third son you used to mock suddenly became the heir overnight, anyone would naturally worry about their job....'
Still, the reason Alon was paying attention to their behavior was that the servants' reactions were a bit more specific.
Whenever Alon's gaze landed on them, the servants didn't just flinch; their very hands trembled.
Earlier, when he had made eye contact with a knight and simply shrugged his shoulders as he usually did, the knight had committed the laughable blunder of dropping his ceremonial sword mid-funeral.
Through this series of actions, it was clear how the servants currently perceived Alon.
'They 100% suspect me.... No, it's beyond suspicion; they're practically certain.'
Two hours later.
"Young Master."
"Yeah."
"It's beyond imagination."
"...To what extent?"
"Currently, you have become the mastermind of the Count's family—someone capable of making even Avalon vanish overnight as if it never existed."
Without even realizing it, Alon had become a shadowy mastermind wielding absurd power.
####
"I was just... toasting bread."
While such rumors were spreading through the Count's estate, Alon let out a low lament, remembering how he had been doing nothing but toasting bread in Roadmill.
"While you were toasting bread, you became a mastermind who commands Sword Master-level assassins."
"I'm not in the mood for jokes."
"I'm not joking either. That is exactly how the rumors have spread."
"...How on earth did such a rumor get out?"
At Alon's question, his brow furrowed in total incomprehension, Evan began to recount the information he had gathered from the information guild, piece by piece.
A moment later.
"To summarize: a day after Leo died, the organization he ran, Avalon, vanished from the underworld without a trace?"
"Yes."
"...And people believe I'm the one who did it."
"Correct."
"...Why?"
"Because you're the only one who benefits from this, aren't you?"
"When you put it that way, I suppose so..."
In truth, this was a situation where it was impossible for Alon not to be suspected.
Leo was murdered right after Alon left the mansion for Roadmill, and even Avalon, which Leo managed, had been wiped out.
From anyone's perspective, Alon was the one who gained the most.
He had a perfect alibi since he was away in Roadmill, and he had become the heir to the Count's family.
Furthermore, with Avalon being crushed, the connections to the underworld that had been tangled like thick tar were completely severed.
In other words, any underworld influence that could have potentially bothered him had been perfectly eliminated.
"But, Young Master, did you really not do it?"
"You... you were right next to me spreading butter on the toast."
"I know, but the situation fell into place so perfectly that I had to ask."
"To think you'd suspect me..."
"It's not suspicion, but it's not like you haven't given me orders without explaining the purpose before."
Alon fell silent at Evan's words.
That was true.
Instead of answering, he began to deduce.
'...Was there anyone in the East capable of killing an underworld mogul? The Night Parade of One Hundred Demons? No, they don't appear for another six years.... Then, the 'Roots'...? They're based near the Eastern Country, so they wouldn't come all the way here.'
Alon shook his head.
No matter how much he thought about it, there was no organization he knew of capable of burying Avalon in an instant.
Just as he was about to give up on the thought.
"...Ah."
He suddenly remembered something Evan had said and asked.
"Evan."
"Yes?"
"Didn't you mention something before? About an organization that hunts other organizations."
"Ah, do you mean the Blue Moon?"
"Yeah, them. Could it be them?"
Evan shook his head at Alon's question.
"No. The information guild also replied that it likely wasn't the Blue Moon."
"How do they know?"
"They say the Blue Moon always leaves a mark after a job. Besides, they say that while 'pieces of corpses' might remain where the Blue Moon has passed, whole bodies never do."
"But that wasn't the case this time?"
"They described it as a scene from hell.... Most of the organization members were taken down by blades."
"...I guess that's why the rumor about a mastermind with a Sword Master started."
"That's how it is."
Alon nodded at Evan's words.
'True, an organization that doesn't even survive six years into the future couldn't possibly wipe out Leo and Avalon. They couldn't.... Then who was it?'
...It was a night of endless contemplation.
####
"Any traces?"
In the basement of the Eastern Orphanage.
As soon as the usual four members gathered, the question was thrown out, and each answered in turn.
"I left none."
"Me neither!"
"Same here. I made sure not to leave any traces, just as you said."
Line, her green eyes shimmering faintly, continued.
"It seems the information guild hasn't linked us to what happened at Avalon either."
"Then?"
"From what I've gathered, it's being treated as a bloodbath created by a Sword Master."
At Deus's words, Yutia remained silent for a moment as if deep in thought, then spoke.
"Still, keep monitoring the information guild's movements just in case. I've said this many times, so you all know, right? This must never reach His ears. Never."
Yutia's red eyes flashed intensely, and everyone nodded without exception.
"...But, is it really necessary to hide it to this extent?"
Deus asked, noticing Yutia seemed a bit more unstable than her usual, infinitely composed self.
After a brief silence, Yutia answered firmly.
"Of course we must hide it."
"...Why is that?"
To Deus's follow-up question, Yutia replied with a glint in her red eyes.
"I told you, didn't I? We are His swords. We must not judge for ourselves or think for ourselves—we must be swords wielded solely by Him."
"...."
"And a sword isn't supposed to think for itself, is it?"
"But this was because the Count's eldest son targeted Him first—"
"Even so, what's forbidden is forbidden. There was no 'order.' Do you understand? We move only by order. If He did not say to move, we must not move. Ever."
Deus rubbed the roof of his mouth with his dry tongue and looked into Yutia's eyes.
She possessed a nobility and integrity that made it hard to believe she belonged in an orphanage, yet she carried an aura that felt impossible to oppose. But whenever his name came up, she changed.
Her dignified gaze turned into a bizarre fanaticism, and her noble aura shifted into something ferocious and eerie.
That was why Deus couldn't understand.
"So, make sure to erase every trace. Do not disappoint Him."
He couldn't understand why she, who had the power and ability to overwhelm everyone here with her presence alone, felt such anxiety and agitation over the mere possibility of being 'caught.'
"Understood."
However, despite his doubts, Deus had no intention of questioning her further. He simply bowed his head, and as the conversation drew to a close…
"I'm back."
The basement door opened, and a man entered.
Despite being a basement where no light reached, he entered with brilliant silver hair that seemed to have captured the moonlight from the sky.
"Just as the Boss said."
The man who, in the destined future, would become the Sin of Mysophobia, one of the Five Great Sins—
"The remaining forces of Avalon, 286 men."
—Ladan reported, his vivid moon-eyes shining.
"I cut them all in half."
Five days.
That was the time it took for 'Avalon,' the giant organization that had dominated the eastern part of the Asteria Kingdom, to vanish, leaving behind nothing but a shabby nameplate.
"However, it seems the job isn't perfectly finished."
"What do you mean?"
"I found more nobles involved with Avalon."
With those words, Ladan took a sheet of paper from his coat—folded so neatly and precisely that not a single gap existed—and placed it on the desk.
"The Altia Ducal House is involved. There are ledgers, so the connection seems quite deep. There are about four of them, all children of the Duke. If they are this deeply involved, they will likely investigate this matter. What should we do?"
Ladan looked at Yutia after finishing his report. After a brief silence, she spoke.
"You already know what I'm going to say, don't you?"
She muttered, her red eyes glowing.
"I see. Then I shall handle it as quietly as possible."
Ladan nodded quietly in response.
####
Since Leo Palatio's funeral, Alon had been busy.
Aside from investigating Leo's death, which had deviated entirely from the game, he had been forced into tasks he hadn't wanted.
Thanks to that, he spent his days in a whirlwind of activity. About a month had passed since the funeral.
As usual, he was not at the Palatio estate but in Estroban, a territory in the southern part of the Asteria Kingdom.
The reason was to attend a ball held regularly twice a year.
Naturally, Alon's superficial reason for being here was to socialize, but in reality, he had business in the territory.
However, he intended to fulfill the superficial reason to some extent.
From his position, as someone certain to become a Count in a year, building rapport with other nobles was extremely important for both his social standing and his own convenience.
...It was surely an important task, but.
"...."
Alon glanced around the ballroom.
A chandelier shaped like a crescent moon shone beautifully, and beneath it, the sons and daughters of nobility were dressed to the nines, flaunting their beauty in the distinct atmosphere of high society.
The problem was.
""....""
Those nobles couldn't even meet Alon's eyes.
"Eek...."
Alon watched a young lady bow her head the moment their eyes met.
"...."
A sigh escaped him as he realized that his superficial goal of 'socializing' would be much harder to achieve than he had anticipated.