By the time the sun began to set, Alon arrived at the Zenonia Duke’s residence inside the inner castle.

“It’s been a while, Marquis Palatio.”

“It has.”

“Have you been well?”

“Yes.”

“First, let’s have dinner.”

After meeting the Duke of Zenonia—whom he’d only spoken to through the crystal sphere for more than a year—Alon decided to share a meal with her.

“It’s massive.”

Following the Duke of Zenonia, Alon glanced around.

He’d felt it the moment he entered the inner castle, but stepping into the residence cemented the impression.

The Zenonia Duke’s home was enormous, nearly comparable to a castle.

“It was huge in the game, too.”

Briefly remembering how often he’d gotten lost before he learned the layout, Alon soon arrived at the dining room.

“Wow.”

The exclamation slipped out before he could stop it.

A long dining table was packed with dishes—so many his jaw nearly dropped.

“This is—”

“I prepared it, knowing you would come.”

“......Thank you.”

“Please. Let’s start with the meal.”

With the Duke’s hospitality, ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ Alon sat down and ate.

As he neared the end of the meal, he spoke.

“Now that I think about it, I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Do you happen to know anything about the ‘Chosen’?”

Alon recalled Eliban’s elegant face.

At his question, the Duke of Zenonia nodded.

“Yes. I know. I even conducted a personal investigation.”

“A personal investigation?”

“I heard rumors that they were blocking the strange gates near my territory. I wanted to see whether he could bring meaningful change to the current political structure.”

“And what did you find out?”

“Nothing that particularly stands out. If I had to point to one thing—”

The Duke paused briefly.

“He may have some connection to Cardinal Yutia.”

“......Yutia?”

“Yes. I heard that during the process of being appointed as the Chosen, he acted as though he knew Yutia. Or rather—he tried not to show it, but he slipped.”

“Hm.”

Alon tilted his head, thinking of Eliban and Yutia.

Based on what he knew, it felt strange that the two would know each other.

“......Though it’s possible they formed a connection without me realizing it.”

Alon knew Yutia often went out for voluntary service.

Where could their paths have crossed? He thought it over briefly.

“Did something happen? If you’d like, I can try sounding out the Chosen tomorrow.”

“......You’re meeting him tomorrow?”

“Yes. Since he dealt with the strange gates near the territory, I should offer some form of reward.”

Alon shook his head at the Duke’s offer.

Unless there was a clear reason, it didn’t seem necessary right now.

“No. I don’t think that’s needed.”

“Understood.”

The conversation shifted to other topics, mostly about Kalpha.

“By the way, will you be attending the upcoming ball, Marquis?”

“Perhaps. I think I will.”

“That’s fortunate.”

“Why?”

“I heard kings and nobles from other kingdoms may participate.”

“......Kings and nobles from other kingdoms?”

“Yes. I thought it would be a good opportunity to build ties with nobles from other countries.”

The Duke of Zenonia added, “Though you already seem to have plenty of connections, Marquis.”

“Moreover, the Duchy of Luxible will participate this time as well.”

“The Duchy of Luxible?”

“They recently purged the corrupt forces and restored power to the royal family.”

“......I’ve heard. And I heard they changed their state religion.”

“Yes, and—”

The Duke rested a finger against her lips, as if recalling something.

“They now worship the ‘One Who Commands Lightning,’ Kalannon, I believe.”

“I’ve heard that, too, but does their attendance matter that much?”

“Not exactly. But if discussions go well—Marquis, as you can guess, there could be various benefits for our faction.”

Alon, however, didn’t understand.

The Duchy of Luxible was a separate nation from the Kingdom of Asteria, and it was far away.

In other words, he couldn’t see how a relationship with the duchy would benefit them.

Still, it felt awkward to ask outright.

“......I see.”

So he could only feign indifference.

*****

The next day.

“I’ll see you at the ball.”

“Sure.”

After a brief farewell with the Duke of Zenonia, Alon left the estate. But instead of returning to the marquisate, he headed north.

[Aren’t you going home?]

Basiliora—who rarely left the ring—asked as he locked into an odd staring contest with Blackie.

“There’s somewhere I need to stop first.”

[Somewhere?]

“Yes. Why are you suddenly so curious?”

[Hmph. It’s nothing.]

Twisting its coils for no reason, Basiliora avoided Alon’s gaze.

“Snake head, are you hiding something?”

[What?! I’m not hiding anything!]

“You say that, but you’re acting like a squirrel hoarding nuts.”

[Don’t be ridiculous, human! I’m better than you, who was fooling around with the maid yesterday!!]

“What?! I wasn’t fooling around with any maid!”

[Hah! Did you think no one noticed? I saw everything yesterday, you lowly human!]

“Ridiculous. We were just taking a short walk in the garden!”

[Hah! Didn’t you brag about things that didn’t happen at the strange gate?]

“Are you some kind of stalker?!”

Startled, Evan shouted in disbelief while Basiliora mocked him mercilessly.

...Honestly, to Alon, there wasn’t much difference between Evan bragging to the maid and Basiliora secretly stalking him.

[Hah, now I see. You’re no better than a monkey pretending to be human.]

“Shut it, snake head! I told you, it was just a walk!”

[Hmph—]

Basiliora scoffed, then suddenly flashed a mischievous grin and began:

[‘Oh, Orlé, your eyes are as clear as the violet sky I saw beyond the strange gate.’]

[‘Ah, Sir Evan!’]

With exaggerated voice changes, Basiliora mimicked them like an actor onstage.

Evan’s face turned bright red, and he screamed, “Waaaaah—!!!”

“Hey, Blackie, can you shut this snake head up? Please—I’m begging you!”

But Blackie only looked at Evan with a mix of pity and contempt.

In the end, after enduring a barrage of humiliation, a drained Evan turned to Alon.

“......So, Marquis, we’re heading north like you said, but where exactly are we going?”

“We’ll probably need to travel for about two more days.”

“Two days? If we go that far north—”

Evan thought for a moment, then asked, “Isn’t there a village called Parsley? Are we heading there?”

“Not exactly. We’re going to the ruins near Parsley.”

“Ah.” Evan nodded.

“So you’re looking for something in the ruins.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’ve been traveling with you for a year or two now, Marquis. This much is easy to figure out.”

“Then shouldn’t you already know when I say we’re heading north?”

“I was just asking formally.”

Evan smirked, and Alon let out a faint chuckle before turning his gaze to the scenery outside.

Then—

“Huh?”

“What is it?”

“Marquis, you smiled just now.”

Evan’s eyes widened.

“Did I?”

“You’re back to your usual expression now, but you definitely smiled.”

Alon touched the corner of his mouth.

“Hm. It feels like I’m showing more emotion than before.”

He remembered something Seolrang had once said, but he only shrugged.

Showing emotion on his face wasn’t worth overthinking.

“By the way, Marquis—after we visit the ruins, are we returning to the marquisate?”

“Unless something significant comes up, I suppose so.”

“Understood.”

For some reason, Evan seemed a little more cheerful as he drove the carriage, leaving Alon faintly puzzled.

Like Basiliora, Evan seemed eager to return to the marquisate quickly.

Alon considered asking why, but decided against it and looked out the window instead.

The afternoon sun blazed.

*****

Three days later.

After arriving in Parsley, Alon wandered for about a day before finally reaching his destination.

“......Is this a ruin?”

Evan stared at the so-called ruin in front of Alon, baffled.

It was understandable.

The “ruin” was embarrassingly small—just a single narrow door, barely worthy of the word.

“Yes. It is.”

“But it’s so small. It looks like even one person would have trouble getting in.”

He wasn’t wrong.

The door was so narrow that even one person would struggle to squeeze through. Still, Alon shrugged and took out <Lemiel’s Oath>.

“......That’s the item you got from the elf last time, isn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“Don’t tell me—you’re going to use that to open it?”

“Exactly.”

Alon raised <Lemiel’s Oath> and examined the ruin.

It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for.

“Here.”

In the lower right corner of the ruin, there was a slot shaped for <Lemiel’s Oath>.

He set the ring into it.

Then—

Creeeaaakkk

A tremendous noise rang out as the small door slowly began to open.

“......How do you always seem to know these things?”

Evan asked, his face full of awe and curiosity.

Of course, the truth was simple: in the game, Alon had used <Lemiel’s Oath> to obtain artifacts countless times. Beyond that, he didn’t actually know much.

The only additional thing he knew about this particular ruin was one detail:

“This is where the staff used by the Primordial Elf is stored, I believe.”

He had no idea who the Primordial Elf was, or what status they held.

The game never explored the Primordial Elf at all.

“......I think there might have been one other ruin connected to them.”

Beyond that, Alon knew nothing.

The only conclusion he could draw was that the Primordial Elf must have been a remarkable magician—no, a sorcerer of the highest caliber.

“The artifact itself is proof enough.”

The door, which had been opening little by little, finally swung fully wide.

And inside the ruin—

“I’ve found it.”

A faint smile hidden behind his neutral expression, Alon looked upon the artifact the Primordial Elf had left behind:

<The Staff of the Sacred One>

—an artifact in the form of a pair of gloves.

At that moment—

“......Let’s move out.”

“Do you truly intend to go yourself, Your Majesty?”

“Yes. I want to see it with my own eyes.”

In Greynifra—

“To confirm whether he truly is the Primordial Elf.”

—the queen began her journey.