I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 25

“What the hell...” Miguel let out a sigh. His gaze was fixed on Ian's back, who stood alone blocking the passage. Not a single undead had managed to get past Ian yet. However, Ian looked as if he could be swept away at any moment.

"No matter how you look at it, that's madness. We have to go help...!" Philip couldn't hold back any longer.

"We're supposed to protect Sir Riruel." Miguel, who had been biting his lower lip, finally shook his head.

"But—" said Philip.

"Did you forget about the order? Our joining won't be of much help. It's better to keep watch from behind to at least ease Ian’s mind."

Philip closed his mouth with a gulp. Although Miguel had stopped Philip, Miguel was just as anxious. The undead seemed endless, and Ian, no matter how strong, wouldn’t be able to fight forever.

Fuck, it doesn't seem like it'll work here. Miguel instinctively twitched his ankle.

But if the worst moment came, it would be do or die. Amid Miguel’s internal conflict, glancing back and forth between Ian and Mev, Miguel's eyes finally flashed. It was because the divine power that had formed all over Mev seeped into her armor. Her shoulders, stiff as a statue, slowly began to move.

Miguel couldn't hold back any longer, "Are you conscious, my lord?"

Mev raised her head. Before she could say anything, Miguel continued, "After you went into prayer, the spell circuit started to operate! The undead started to swarm out!"

"...So, where is Ian?" Mev asked.

"That's exactly what I wanted to tell you!" Miguel pointed toward the passage. "He’s holding off the undead alone!"

"We received orders to escort you, my lord." Philip chimed in.

"I see," Mev said, her gaze darkening as she looked back at the passage. She stood up suddenly. With a swish, her sword rotated backward, and she caught the upper part of the blade in her grip.

"I'll clear the way," she declared, her face guard lowered as she charged forward. The weight of her armor appeared to have no effect on her speed.

"Ian! Make way!" Holding the sword close to her face, Mev eventually shouted.

Ian looked back.

"...You're late," Ian said breathlessly and jumped aside.

Mev charged into the space that was revealed. A faint blue light flickered around her as she passed Ian. Her charge became even faster as the undead approached.

Crash!

The skeletons that collided with Mev shattered into pieces. Mev, having penetrated into the middle of the horde, swung her sword up forcefully.

Crack.

The dull arc created by the sword smashed through the undead. Even without aiming for their heads, the eyes of the swept-up skeletons shattered. Divine power was fatal to the undead even in small amounts.

Mev didn't stop her attack. Using the centrifugal force of her swung sword, she rotated her body to strike again and forcefully stopped her raised arm to strike in the opposite direction as well.

Crack!

The fist was plunged into the skull of a ghoul fortunate enough to evade the identical trajectory of two assaults. The undead attempted a counterattack akin to wild beasts. Yet, broken swords, clubs, or claws failed to even mark her armor. They merely grazed the divine power. Some disintegrated upon contact with the divine energy, despite their offensive efforts.

"Feels deprived every time I see it...." Ian eventually let out a hollow laugh from behind.

Mev’s combat power was always impressive. However, he couldn't merely stand by and watch. One of Mev's rare vulnerabilities was her limited stamina, and it appeared her reserves of divine power were not plentiful either.

Snap!

Ian crushed the skull of a skeleton Mev had missed, following up. Mev naturally relied on him, and her movements became much bolder. The firm belief that Ian would handle the monsters she missed made her advance even faster. The pace accelerated instantly. Through the passage into a slightly smaller stone chamber. Then beyond to another stone chamber. The relentless advance stopped at the top of a downhill path leading deeper underground.

Rumble.

Suddenly, a stone wall rose and blocked the path.

"Phew, phew...." Mev, pausing to catch her breath, examined the ancient script etched into the stone wall, then glanced at Ian.

Ian responded with a shrug. Eventually, Mev turned around to face the ceaseless remnants of the undead. Philip and Miguel, torches in hand, were carefully navigating their way through them.

"The path is blocked," Mev said calmly and lifted her face guard.

"Does that mean... we're trapped?" Miguel blinked.

"As you can see," said Mev.

"You must have some plan," said Philip as he approached, offering a water pouch.

"There's no plan," replied Mev, receiving the pouch.

"Thought so... Wait, what?" said Philip.

Mev, unbothered, drank the water and handed the pouch to Ian, who was already sitting back against the wall, resting his arm on the mace.

"Since Ian isn't panicking, that's all I'm relying on," said Mev.

She would even be a surety for me at this point. Ian swallowed a chuckle. He didn't bother explaining about the dark mage being furious enough not to leave them to just starve to death, or about patterns that existed in the game.

Just shrugging his shoulders, Ian said, "Let's take a break."

Mev nodded and sat down next to Ian.

"If that's what you both think..." Miguel awkwardly sat down as well.

Philip, sitting beside him, also showed deep signs of fatigue. Not fighting didn't mean they weren't tired. The darkness and the magic of the spell circuits were mentally exhausting just facing them. Facing the onslaught of undead was a continuous stress, a reason why many who fight monsters end up mad or consumed by darkness.

"When did the essence bead start acting?" Ian suddenly asked.

"It's just resonating. It has been since the stigmata went silent." Mev placed her hand on her breastplate, where the tainted essence was kept.

"Is your connection to the divine completely severed?"

"Yes," Mev replied.

"Then be careful. It might try to consume your spirit at any moment."

"I will. Don't worry."

Mev's gaze then turned to the undead remains scattered around.

"I can't understand. To command such a massive force yet hide underground.”

Why does everyone wonder about that? Ian thought.

"This is his demonic realm. Such a force is only possible here. It couldn't be maintained outside. Not yet, anyway."

Setting aside where such magical power was drawn from, the spell circuits supplied magic to the mist and the undead legion.

Listening in, Philip asked, "Does the demonic realm itself make the dark mage stronger?"

"That's why demons and the corrupted ones create demonic realms. Like a spider building a web. To create a small world solely for themselves," Ian replied.

Of course, demonic realms created by high-ranking corrupted ones or demons were incomparable to something like this underground tomb.

"He was gathering strength here. Planting the essence bead was a preparation for emerging into the world... A new evil capable of overturning kingdoms could have been born." Mev nodded thoughtfully.

Honestly, it didn't seem like he had the capacity for that. As Ian shrugged, his gaze suddenly shifted to the ceiling.

An ominous power was surging through the spell circuits.

Has it started?

Ian stood up, recalling memories as he picked up his mace. The moment he turned to look at the wall,

"What, what...?!"

A questioning exclamation burst from Philip and Miguel's direction. Ian then felt the concentration of magic behind him, delayed by the spell circuits' magic. But what narrowed Ian's eyes was the sound of debris vibrating and clumping together on the floor.

That already? Ian murmured to himself.

Ian turned around at that moment. The debris began to be sucked into the passage behind them as if drawn by magnetism. The debris clumped together quickly filled the passage. A mass made of bone and flesh. As it began to wriggle as if it were alive, Ian's gaze turned icy cold.

It was the Detritus of Death. An amorphous monster, a tracker of the undead, was created much earlier than in the game.

Last time, it appeared just before entering a crossroad. Is this because there are enough corpses? Damn it. While Ian frowned,

"What in the world is that madness...ugh?!" With a rumble, Miguel jerked his shoulder in surprise as he let out a dumbfounded sigh.

The stone wall that had blocked their way began to descend. Beyond it, numerous glowing eyes flickered.

"They really went all out, what the fuck...." A hollow laugh spread across Ian's lips.

"I think I should be the one dealing with that monster, Ian," Mev uttered with a stern face.

Ian nodded briefly. That was what he had hoped for as well.

"Don't try to kill it, just stop it. I'll make a way through," said Ian.

"They're coming, my lord!" Philip's cry followed.

The Detritus of Death was crawling toward them. To be precise, they were collapsing toward them. The bones and flesh from above were pouring forward as they moved. Imagining what would happen if one were caught in that heap was not difficult.

"You guys stay in the middle of the formation." Mev lowered her face shield. She charged forward as she spoke. Almost simultaneously, Ian leaped over the nearly descended wall.

With a whoosh, the undead approached in an instant. From a skeleton warrior clad in leather armor to a skeleton knight in ancient fairy armor, and to a ghoul soldier presumed to have died relatively recently. All that should have been in deeper places had gathered here.

The legion was already complete, Ian murmured to himself.

Crack!

Ian struck down a skeleton soldier's helmet. The rusted helmet caved in, and the skull beneath shattered to pieces.

By the time the creature crumbled, Ian was already striking the next undead. Thanks to conserving his energy, Ian’s movements were more relaxed. Moreover, there was no need to only smash their heads. Ian focused on clearing a path, surrounded by the Wind Blade. After advancing for a while, Ian suddenly looked back.

"Sir! Be careful not to fall too far behind!" Ian yelled.

Mev, who had been dealing with the remnants, finally turned around. She was not able to kill it either. She only slowed down the advance.

The debris, unimpeded now, cascaded through the chamber and down the passage with a loud crash. The sound of the bone heap collapsing resonated through the chamber like the sound of waves. Not only the undead whose heads had been crushed and collapsed but also those being reassembled were covered by the debris and disappeared.

"Eek...! Eeek...!"

"Look forward, just forward!"

Philip and Miguel seemed almost out of their minds with pressure.

There's infinite energy right there, they are relentless, thought Ian.'

Ian still held a relaxed demeanor. The end was in sight. As long as he didn't miss the shortcut located at the crossroads, he could burst right up to the dark mage’s doorstep in no time. It wasn't long before a variable was introduced to that plan.

Hehe he—

A laugh brushed past Ian’s ear. It was a chilling sound that involuntarily brought back forgotten memories.

What the fuck, why is that thing here? Ian's head turned swiftly toward the direction of the sound.

Floating in the wide chamber's ceiling was a specter with disheveled hair. The specter, which used to dwell in a lake far from here, was covering its face with its bone-exposed hands. It was a lakeside specter that lured men to drain their vitality and drowned women to use them as possessed bodies. There was only one reason for it to be here, far from the lake.

I guess that asshole is also a familiar, Ian mused, realizing it had likely been summoned to this den. He quickly looked back at where the specter had been, only to find it gone. The laughter was now coming from above.

Hehe he—

In an instinctive response, Ian leaped up, swinging his mace through the air. His strike was precise, hitting the specter squarely, yet he felt no resistance; the mace passed right through. As anticipated, physical attacks did not affect it. It was merely an effort to scare it off.

"What the hell was that?!" Miguel shouted with a hoarse voice upon seeing the mirage-like disappearing specter.

Ian merely frowned, without responding. Behind them was the Detritus of Death, ahead a wave of undead, and above, a specter. Such trivial beings gathered together were unbearably annoying. And they weren't even acting separately.

Hehe he—

The specter reappeared in the distance, laughing.

From its disheveled hair, a bluish magic spread like fog. It was right after that the undead's eyes began to seep with blue light. The creatures shuddered as if electrocuted, then lunged in a convulsion. Their movements became faster and more agile.

"All this bullshit," Ian gritted his teeth as he struck down the rushing skeletons.

Killing them only added to the size of the Detritus of Death, but there was no other way. He had to clear a path as quickly as possible to shake off these cursed things. It was at that moment that Ian activated his magic.

Hehe he—

The laughter of the specter came from behind.

Ian's eyes sparked with fury as he turned around. The specter had revealed itself above Philip and Miguel's heads. Ian’s nerves tensed as if to snap. All information around him was perceived in an instant.

The two, who had been merely looking around and had only now noticed the specter's presence. Mev was desperately using her limited holy power to slow down the advance of the detritus. And the specter was lowering its hand from its face.

The swirling bluish magic bloomed in its deeply sunken eye sockets, clearly about to let out its Scream of Death. It was a skill that caused not only damage but also a long-lasting state of confusion. Ian concluded as quickly as he perceived. If that is not stopped, Philip and Miguel would die.

"Both of you, cover your ears! Now!" Ian's eyes blazed red.

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