I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 783

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Chapter 783

"It’s been a while," Ian replied with a faint smirk.

With Mev riding Nila alongside the carriage like a moving shield, he didn’t need to worry about drawing attention.

"I was aware you’d need to meet the count first, of course..." Fael said, nodding briefly to Spello as the knight stepped back.

He then turned and walked alongside the carriage. "But I just couldn’t wait. So I came to greet you in person."

"Don’t act like you’re doing anything special." A Northern guard cut in sharply as he fell in step beside them.

Ignoring Fael’s slight frown, Bor bowed his head. "It’s good to see you again, demigod."

Ian paused for a split second, then let out a low chuckle. "So I get called that again... It’s been a while, Bor. Your gear’s improved."

"He’s just discovered the joy of spending money." Fael clicked his tongue and gestured for Bor to step back.

Snorting, Bor gave Ian one last respectful bow before retreating.

"I didn’t expect you to move personally in times like these," Ian added, taking a sip from his bottle.

Fael blinked in surprise, then turned back to him. "When the Agent of the Saint calls, how could I not? Besides, I didn’t have much else to do for the time being. Thanks to your warning, we were able to prepare for the chaos early."

His expression was sincere, but Ian could tell even that was consideration on Fael’s part. At a time like this, leaving his post wouldn’t have been a light decision.

Still, there was no need to point that out.

"So, preparations are complete?" Ian asked casually.

Fael nodded immediately. "Of course. We’ve liquidated most of our goods and reinforced security. And we’ve shown considerably more ‘care’ than usual toward both the royal house and the Great Church," Fael answered.

He even gave a small, playful twitch of his brow at the end, clearly wanting to project confidence.

Ian chuckled and nodded. "Thank you for coming in person, Fael of Borta. That puts me at ease."

"You honor me." Fael bowed his head.

"You two may be close, but it seems you only have eyes for the Agent of the Saint."

Leaning forward slightly, Thesaya looked at Fael with a smile.

"Not even a greeting? I’m starting to feel a little slighted."

"My apologies. That was discourteous of me." Fael straightened at once, placing a hand over his chest in a formal gesture. "It is an honor and a pleasure to see you again, Elder."

"Lovely to see you too. Hopefully you’ve brought something that’ll make me feel just as honored," Thesaya replied with a graceful, fairy-like smile.

Ian narrowed his eyes slightly as he took another sip.

Fael nodded warmly. "I do have something I hope will please you, but this is not the right place. May I speak of it shortly, once we’re in a more suitable setting?"

"That's enough of an answer. Very well." Only then did Thesaya lean back, finally satisfied.

Facing Ian, she lazily brushed Lily’s hair and gave him a faint smile.

Honestly, no patience at all.

Clicking his tongue inwardly, Ian listened as Fael’s low voice followed.

"Through the report I received, I heard a brief account from Her Highness the Princess regarding what happened in the North."

Meeting Ian’s eyes, he smiled gently.

"I would very much like to offer my congratulations here and now, but I will exercise patience and wait. Of course, with the finest wine prepared."

Ian already had a good idea what that meant. Bor’s earlier words had made it obvious enough.

He clicked his tongue lightly—not at Fael, but at the thought of the princess, who had a talent for filling letters with unnecessary detail. She’d definitely gone on at length again.

"Did you share that with the count as well?" Ian asked.

Fael hesitated briefly, then lowered his head. "Yes. I was aware it may not be what you wished... but I had to convey Her Highness’s intent. I’ve asked that it remain confidential for the time being."

That was likely why he had addressed Ian as Agent of the Saint rather than the Archduke of the North.

Ian nodded, clicking his tongue softly again. "And what exactly was her message?"

"She said that the Agent of the Saint would be visiting, and that you would be seeking aid for the North. That she herself would bear the responsibility that comes with it."

"I see." Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly. Seras had likely guessed that his reason for coming here was for military provisions.

"She’s given us quite the justification," Thesaya added casually. Still stroking Lily’s hair, she looked at Ian with a meaningful smile—no doubt because she knew his reasons weren’t limited to helping the North.

"Thanks for the advance notice. This will make things easier." Ian gave a small nod.

Fael smiled warmly. "I’m glad it was of help. Please, speak with him, rest well, and then come find me. I’ll be waiting."

"Won’t take long. Don’t worry."

"Of course. And..." Fael hesitated again, then added carefully, "If it wouldn’t be inappropriate, may I introduce you to the rest of my personal guards at that time?"

He really prepared thoroughly.

Ian chuckled under his breath and nodded without hesitation. "Go ahead."

"Thank you. That’s a relief. To be honest, I had to force them to stay behind even now." Relief spread across Fael’s face.

After watching him for a moment, Ian added, "While you wait, select only the most reliable among them, including Bor, and have them ready to move. Two wagons should be enough."

"Where are you planning to send them?" Fael blinked.

Thesaya, too, narrowed her eyes at Ian, clearly recalling the conversation they’d had just before reaching Drenorov.

"There’s somewhere we’ll be going together. It shouldn’t take too long." Ian replied casually, then looked back at Fael. "We’ll discuss the details after I meet the count."

Though still puzzled, Fael nodded. "Understood."

He glanced between Ian and Thesaya once more. "Then I’ll take my leave for now. Agent of the Saint. Elder." 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

As Ian nodded toward Thesaya, Fael offered his greetings to Mev as well before disappearing past the window.

"You really won’t tell us in advance, will you, Agent of the Saint?" murmured Thesaya.

Instead of answering, Ian lifted the bottle to his lips and looked out the window.

It was better to wait until everyone was gathered; that way, he wouldn’t have to repeat himself.

I don’t even know the exact location yet, anyway.

By the time the thought crossed Ian’s mind, Nila was no longer walking toward the main building, but along a low stone wall—the boundary surrounding the count’s estate.

"His Excellency has ordered that our honored guests be escorted to the annex." Spello stepped up to the window again and spoke politely.

Meeting Ian’s gaze, he gave a slight bow. "If there is anything you require, please let me know. I will have it prepared while you meet with His Excellency."

"Everyone will probably want a bath before anything else," Ian replied casually.

Even with narrowed eyes, Thesaya nodded in agreement.

Spello’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Then I shall make arrangements so each of you may enjoy yourselves comfortably. Understood."

He may have put on weight, but he still knows his work.

"We’ll be arriving shortly, so please wait just a moment. I’ll take my leave for now." Spello strode ahead, clearly intending to guide them.

Moments later, the carriage turned through the gates. The small sliding window near the driver’s seat opened almost at the same time.

"While you speak with the count, I’ll take care of the horses and the carriage," said Miguel.

Looking past Thesaya’s shoulder, Ian replied, "You could come along."

"I’ve never met him. I’d rather stay out of the way and handle what I can."

"If that’s how you feel... alright." Ian clicked his tongue softly.

Come to think of it, he’s oddly uncomfortable around nobles.

"Can you keep an eye on Pup too?" Thesaya added, glancing over.

"No trouble. Just leave her inside," Miguel answered without hesitation, then closed the window again.

Smiling faintly, Thesaya resumed stroking Lily’s hair as if that would increase the chances of the girl following her.

Clack—clack—

The carriage rolled across the garden.

Through the window, the annex came into view. It was a modest two-story building in Imperial style, lacking excessive ornamentation.

"Hmm." Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

It wasn’t just because the count himself was waiting at the entrance.

Standing just behind him was a young man in Imperial attire, with neatly groomed hair and beard. His sharp features and blond hair suited his lightly tanned complexion.

"Ah, right. The second son." Ian murmured, the corner of his lips curling.

A past conversation with the count’s eldest son, Obell, surfaced in his mind.

The troublesome younger brother who’d gone to study in the capital.

"Looks like he became the heir instead of his older brother. Makes sense, I suppose." Thesaya said, leaning slightly to get a better look.

Ian gave a small nod and shut the window.

"Let’s get ready."

Setting the bottle down with Willful Grasp, he began fastening the clasps on his gear again.

Adjusting her clothes, Thesaya added, "I don’t know what you’re planning, but let’s not go see the merchant right away. I refuse to receive my insignia looking like this."

"Don’t worry. I was planning to meet him tomorrow anyway. We’ll stop by the church first," Ian replied without pausing his movements.

Only then did Thesaya smile, reassured.

The carriage turned to the right, clearly coming to a stop before the annex entrance.

"Don’t cause any trouble. Just stay put and behave, alright?" Thesaya said to Lily as soon as the carriage came to a stop.

Ian straightened his posture, the corner of his lips curling upward. "That’s what I was going to say."

"When have I ever caused trouble? I just have a bit of harmless fun." Thesaya replied shamelessly.

Just then, a knock sounded on the carriage door.

Ian opened it slightly, and Mev immediately pulled it open the rest of the way, holding it in place.

Though she had lifted her visor to reveal her face, her expression was the solemn one she wore in formal settings.

Ian’s gaze lingered on her only briefly as he stepped out.

"Welcome, Agent of the Saint."

Standing before the entrance was Morgan Westwood.

At Ian’s gaze, the count bent one knee in a formal Imperial greeting. "I must apologize for sending Sir Spello ahead. I was covered in dust and needed time to prepare myself."

Behind him, both the young man and Spello dropped to one knee as well. The young man, however, watched Ian with an unreadable look.

"It’s been a while. I’ve met several familiar faces thanks to you, so don’t trouble yourself over it," Ian replied casually, stepping forward.

The count rose, a sharp, meticulous smile forming on his lips. "Yes, I suppose I am fortunate. With so little time left before I return to the soil, I’m glad I could see you again."

"That terrible joke hasn’t changed, I see. If anything, you look healthier than before." Ian replied with a faint smile as a quiet laugh from Thesaya drifted from behind him.

It wasn’t flattery. Though the count still wore his old gray uniform, his hair white and his frame gaunt, his eyes were sharper than before, as clear as his firm voice.

"As someone once said, a candle burns brightest just before it goes out."

Even his weathered, age-spotted skin seemed to carry an odd vitality.

Watching Ian approach, he added, "To be honest, I cannot afford to close my eyes just yet. There is still much I must teach my foolish son."

"So that’s your second son, then." Ian stopped before him and finally turned to the young man.

The count nodded. "Yes. Rinel—come forward and properly greet the Agent of the Saint."

"Glory to the Radiant Light. I am Rinel Westwood, Agent of the Saint." Rinel bowed once more.

Then, straightening, he smiled calmly and added, "At last, I have the honor of meeting the one who granted my brother eternal rest."

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