Two years had passed since Alon rescued all the Five Great Sins, marking the fourth year since he began exchanging letters with Yutia.
There were now six years left until the start of the original story.
The Count Palatio was dead.
The official cause of death was heart failure.
However, anyone within the Count's household—or those well-informed—would have easily known the real cause of death.
It was an overdose of drugs.
In a death fitting of a dark fantasy world, Count Palatio had passed away.
Yet, no one mourned his death.
The servants and retainers accepted the news with calm indifference.
This was unsurprising, given that the Count had long been broken—racing toward death through relentless drug abuse. It would have been strange not to expect such an end.
His life had been wasted in indulgence—consumed by women and drugs. Even after his death, not a single noble expressed condolences.
This included his two remaining sons.
Leo, the eldest, had anticipated this outcome long ago and remained indifferent.
Rather than mourning his father's death, he seemed far more concerned with his ongoing conflict with the Blue Moon organization, constantly discussing it with his loyal retainers.
Alon felt the same.
From the beginning, his father had turned a blind eye as the eldest and second sons openly tormented him. In fact, Alon had never spoken to the Count even once since taking over this body.
Their relationship was one of mutual indifference.
Thus, the Count's death passed in silence—without a single tear shed—and quietly came to an end.
A week after the Count's death, the Palatio family did not appoint a new head, as per tradition:No new head would be selected in the same year the previous one died.
And yet, nothing really changed.
Since the moment Alon had taken over this body, the Count Palatio had done nothing—leaving the retainers to manage the family while lining their own pockets.
And at this moment, Alon…
"Young Master, I must say, it's truly astonishing."
"Why?"
"…Reaching the 2nd tier in just two years, without entering the Magic Tower or having a master… do you think that's a talent that makes sense?"
Alon had been learning magic for self-defense.
Though it's only half-baked.
He gazed at the three small spheres spinning in his palm before letting them disperse with a faint sigh.
It's good that I have talent, but still…
Two years ago, he discovered his talent for magic and had been overjoyed.
In the world of Psychedelia, magic was only possible for those born with the gift.
And Alon's talent was exceptional.
Considering it usually took four years to reach the 2nd tier, achieving it in just two—without a master—was extraordinary. He was not a heaven-sent prodigy… but a natural talent nonetheless.
Even Alon understood that his ability to control mana precisely was far superior to most.
What he had just performed—levitating three electric spheres and making them orbit in his palm—was a useless trick… but one that required exquisite mana control.
If only my mana core was bigger.
That was why he considered his gift half-baked.
His mana core was far smaller than average.
Not just small—abnormally small.
Though mana cores could be strengthened through training… his was so undersized that significant improvement was unlikely.
A mana core was akin to physical stature—something one was simply born with.
If it comes down to it, I do have one method, but…
As Alon licked his lips in thought, Evan asked,
"Young Master, what do you plan to do now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, next year… the first son—no, the eldest young master—will become the head of the family, won't he?"
Evan had nearly called Leo a commoner out of habit before correcting himself. Alon understood and replied plainly:
"I'll leave."
"…You're planning to leave the estate?"
"Not completely. Just to a lower position."
"Lower… do you mean to Rodmill?"
At his question, Alon nodded.
"That's right."
Rodmill.
A village four days south of Palion—the Palatio estate—under the Count's jurisdiction, but moderately thriving.
"I plan to move there."
"…Why?"
Evan asked, baffled.
Though Evan did not understand—this was the final step of Alon's plan.
From the beginning, his goal was to rescue the Five Great Sins, change the future, and live the rest of his life comfortably as a noble… in a world where the United Kingdoms were not destroyed.
And for that, Rodmill is the perfect choice.
First—there was a mansion there that once belonged to the 3rd Count Palatio.
Second—the village was moderately prosperous, meaning Leo would not bother with it before his inevitable death.
Third—and most importantly—it was far enough away that when the original story began, Alon could stay uninvolved in the hero's path of justice and retribution.
In short—once Alon moved to Rodmill, his plan would be complete.
Rather than explaining all this, he simply said:
"Everything has its time."
"…Young Master, you always say that when you don't want to explain."
Alon didn't respond. Instead—
"Since we're on the topic, let's start packing."
He began preparing to move to Rodmill.
A Month Later
Leo—the eldest son of the Palatio family and leader of the underworld group Avalon—watched his younger brother board a carriage and depart the estate.
What should I do?
Whether to kill Alon—or not.
To be honest, Leo didn't see him as a threat.
Not now. Not ever.
Tonio had always been dangerous—baring his fangs for succession. Alon, however, had always bowed his head… kept quiet… avoided trouble.
Sure—Alon had changed a little over the past few years, but his attitude remained the same.
Even now, he had chosen to move to the outskirts… to avoid offending Leo.
Convenient.
Originally, Leo had intended to discreetly kill Alon with a drug overdose—timed with their father's death.
But since Alon voluntarily moved to Rodmill, there was no need to bother.
He wasn't a threat. He wasn't an enemy.
And yet—Leo hesitated.
There was no reason for it.
Not fear. Not disgust. Not logic.
Simply—Alon annoyed him.
A month ago, when Alon came to inform him of his move… something about the way he bowed his head irritated Leo.
Perhaps because he had just heard Avalon failed to meet quota.Perhaps because he was already in a foul mood.
Whatever the reason—Alon's life now hung in the balance.
"Alman."
"Yes."
"Quietly follow the carriage."
In less than a minute—Alon's fate was sealed.
But then—
"…Do you mean to kill him?"
"…?"
Leo blinked in confusion.
Alman had served him faithfully for over two years. He was not someone who questioned orders.
"When I give a command, you follow it. Do you think family means anything to—"
Stab!
"…?"
Instead of words—blood spilled from Leo's mouth.
He stared down, trembling—
A sword had pierced his heart.
"B-betrayal—"
But the man replied calmly:
"This isn't betrayal. I was never your loyal subordinate to begin with."
"W-what…?"
"I was simply waiting for you to give the order."
Leo's eyes widened.
A single face flashed in his mind.
Alon.
The third son.
But—but this made no sense.
Hidan—no, Alman—had been with him for two years. He could have killed him anytime. Anytime.
So why now?
As Leo stared in disbelief, Hidan finally explained:
"We do not act without orders. We are simply swords—moving only as our wielder commands. That is the creed of the blue Moon—the unbreakable law."
Crack!
"Gah—!"
"But when someone tries to harm the Great Moon…"
Shlick!
"…our swords move on their own."
Leo collapsed—face hitting the dirt—eyes burning with rage as he struggled to speak.
"My… men… they… won't—"
"Don't worry. From the moment you gave that order…Avalon was fated to disappear from the continent."
Hidan—direct subordinate of Yutia—walked away.
"It's a pity. The Great Moon gave you a chance."
Leo never understood.
And died shortly after.
A cold, indifferent death.
Three Days Later — Rodmill
After arriving in Rodmill, Alon was summoned back to the Palatio estate.
The reason?
Leo was dead.
And because of his inexplicable death—
Alon, who had been toasting bread alone in the quiet mansion (due to a lack of servants), was urgently called back.
By then—a new nickname had already begun circulating in hushed whispers throughout the estate:
The Hidden Power of the Count's Family.