I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 608

Sipping the Divine Droplet with a cigarette between his lips, Ian continued his story without pause. Since he revealed everything except his most essential secrets, he did not need to be as reserved as usual.

"An underground stronghold..."

Besides, the Platinum Dragon was an excellent listener. It wasn't just that it listened intently with shining eyes and nods of its head.

"That child, Hyked, chose a wise method. He likely received advice from the dwarves. Even so, putting it into practice would not have been easy. Indeed, he is a child born with the qualities of an emperor."

At the end of each segment, it would add various comments or impressions, giving Ian a moment to catch his breath.

"That the archdemons were still alive was already somewhat foreseen among the scholars. Among the monsters that crossed the Wall, there were some that appeared to be their minions."

Of course, it mixed in plenty of useful advice and information as well.

"Now that the Wall has fallen, they will unleash their suppressed madness and desires."

"Are you saying they will leave the Black Lands and invade the continent?"

"There is a high probability. Do not predict their actions rationally. Madness and desire are the domains of the irrational."

It answered Ian’s questions with more kindness and detail than usual. The conversation stretching endlessly was, in a sense, inevitable.

"It is a pity that Hyked ended up embracing chaos. It is something that even dragons cannot perfectly control. That child probably knows this as well. I can only hope he has prepared an alternative to protect his soul."

In any case, Archeas was completely engrossed in Ian’s story. It was at times tense, at times joyful like a child, and at times, like just now, unable to hide its sorrow.

"The rift... I call it Purgatory. It lies between the material and the immaterial, where echoes of dimensions collide. Extremely dangerous and unstable, but worthy of study. Even the spell that brought you here passed through it. But promise me this: never set foot there again."

As Archeas generously shared fragments of its knowledge, Ian’s story drew toward its end. And of course, Archeas’s reaction grew appropriately more intense.

"To think even you were nearly devoured by chaos! I almost lost you. Normally, you would never have been able to return to your original form," it said, especially during the part where Ian had been reborn as a demon at the end of his battle with Yanar Tash.

"If that mysterious power had not protected your soul, you would have merged with the chaos along with the fragment of that ancient god," Archeas exclaimed, its eyes wide, speaking much faster than usual. "If Lucia had not shown such brilliant resourcefulness, it would have eventually happened, given enough time, Ian."

"I know. I have also realized that my chaos is trying to consume me." Feeling as though he were being scolded, Ian bit down on what was left of his cigarette.

"That is likely an instinct that cannot be erased. The will within the chaos was born through you. It probably believes that it will only become whole by merging with you. Which means, do not try it again. I do not wish to see you become the worst archdemon in history. Do you understand?" said Archeas with a grim face, tilting its head with its yellow eyes gleaming.

"I’ve no intention of letting it come to that, so don’t worry."

"Good. Hearing you confirm that puts my mind at ease." Archeas finally took a sip of its drink and then looked at him. "Then that means the Sacred Blood must be flowing in you now. Has your soul awakened yet?"

"If you mean psychic ability, then yes," said Ian, lifting his cup.

Archeas’s eyes sparkled. "Would you show me?"

"If you don’t mind being the subject."

"By all means." Archeas set down its cup and spread its arms wide.

A slight smile touched Ian’s lips as he set down his cup and looked at Archeas. Within seconds, the expression between them shifted—Archeas smiling faintly, Ian frowning ever so slightly.

I was just going to lift him a little...

He had clearly grasped it with his Willful Grasp, but Archeas hadn't moved an inch. His will hadn’t dissipated; it simply had no effect.

"Interesting. We could call it telekinesis," Archeas said with a chuckle, having seen right through his Willful Grasp.

It dispelled the will with a simple, magically infused gesture and then looked at Ian. "Do you know what this means?"

"If you’re going to say something about the royal family, save it." Ian took a sip of his drink with a bored expression.

Archeas’s smile widened. "So you knew. Yes, having inherited the Sacred Blood, you can now be considered a member of the royal family. A distant branch, perhaps, but one with the minimum qualifications to inherit the throne."

"I neither want nor wish for it."

I knew it’d say that.

Ian took another drag of his cigarette.

Archeas shrugged nonchalantly. "I simply wanted to let you know. Just be aware of it. Destiny sometimes flows in directions we do not desire."

"Let’s get back to the topic," Ian said through a puff of smoke, nodding toward Archeas. "After that, the Wall fell not long after. Of course, I knew you were the one who did it even before the ritual began."

"Thanks to that, I was able to rest easy. I had confirmed your safety, after all."

"Why didn’t you reassure me as well?"

"I apologize. I was only briefly borrowing Karha’s sight, so I did not have the leisure," Archeas said, picking up the bottle.

Smooth excuse.

Ian smacked his lips with a bored expression. "After that, I followed Diana west and ended up at the Southern Front. That’s where I called for you."

"As I said, I was unable to move at that time. I was barely recovering."

Its eyes dimmed as it poured more wine. It was a look Ian had seen several times during their conversation, though it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"In any case, you were lucky. Thanks to that, you were able to avoid a conflict with the royal family or the Great Church."

Ian nodded. "I thought the same. Especially once the Bukikia advanced into the inner sea and blocked off the trade routes."

Ian then recounted his journey across the inner sea and his arrival on the frontier.

Archeas, looking as if all its questions had finally been answered, brought its cup to its lips. "It’ll take the Empire quite some time to pinpoint your whereabouts. They likely still believe you’re in the south."

"They will find out when the ones returning to the Empire set foot in the capital. Of course, by then, I’ll already be long gone from the frontier."

"Once they learn Hyked is still alive, they’ll lose interest in you entirely. You should consider letting that news spread," said Archeas.

A strange smile played on Ian’s lips. "I already took care of that."

"Is that so? Indeed, you are clever. You make it hard not to be proud," Archeas said with a satisfied smile, draining its cup.

Ian watched it for a moment, then stubbed out his cigarette with his fingers and said, "In that regard, there is something I wanted to ask you."

"Oh? What is it?" Archeas asked, setting down its cup.

Instead of answering, Ian placed the cigarette butt on the corner of the table and reached into his pocket dimension. A moment later, he withdrew the Truesilver Steel Sword, still in its scabbard.

Archeas’s eyes curved slightly. "So you were storing your sword separately. I thought you had left it behind since you were unarmed."

"It’s too valuable a weapon to just leave lying around," Ian replied, placing the sword on the table. He had laid out his armor in his room, but all his weapons, including the greatsword, were in his pocket dimension.

"Did you end up breaking the sword again?" Archeas asked with a subtle smile, looking down at the sword.

"Fortunately, no. But it’s in a state where it could break at any moment."

"Considering what you have been through, it is rather remarkable that it has held up this long. An excellent scabbard. Dwarven craftsmanship, I assume?" Archeas said playfully, picking up the sword.

"The master craftsman at the stronghold made it for me."

"A good scabbard extends the life of a sword. You must have benefited from it."

Archeas gripped the hilt. The pristine white blade slid free in a shimmer of light.

The atmosphere changes when it holds it.

In Archeas’s hands, the sword looked almost mournful.

Archeas examined the blade and chuckled. "You are right. It is in a state where it could break at any moment."

"So please fix it so I can continue to use it."

"I would like to, but unfortunately, I do not have any of the tools here." Archeas sheathed the sword and turned to him.

"I take it you didn’t have a hobby of making dragon’s armaments when you built this nest," Ian said, smacking his lips.

The Platinum Dragon shrugged. "Back then, I enjoyed receiving and collecting things, not making them. It was long before the Empire existed, so I had no duty to forge armaments."

"Then can’t you just make me a new one?"

"What did you say?"

"You should have a treasure vault here, too. As long as we have a blade, inscribing the spell shouldn’t be difficult for you."

"You’re still as greedy as ever!" Archeas, whose eyes had widened, burst into peals of laughter. "Every time I see this unchanging side of you, I feel relieved in many ways."

"Funny, you only seem reassured by my worst traits."

"Let’s just call it a difference in perspective."

This dragon’s teasing me more by the minute.

Ian simply shrugged without another word. It occurred to him that this might be Archeas’s true nature, hidden away by its status and responsibilities, just like himself.

"But unfortunately, there is likely no suitable sword here. Creating a dragon’s armament requires surprisingly strict conditions. Not only must it be able to withstand a Mantra circuit, but it must also be free of any divinity or pre-existing spells." Archeas said, placing the sword in front of Ian.

"Are you saying there isn’t a single one that meets the conditions?"

"It was a very long time ago, so I cannot say for certain. But what I have stored are things that were considered very precious even back then. It was also an era when spell-crafting techniques were far more advanced than they are now," Archeas said, a look of pity on its face as it watched Ian’s frown. "If this were my original nest, I could have easily made one for you. A shame, really."

"I can’t say that it isn’t..." Ian muttered, picking up the sword, returning it to his pocket dimension.

"Take it to the Temple of the Brazier. The dwarven masters there may know a way to repair it," added Archeas.

"Then, did you abandon all the treasures in your original nest as well?" Ian asked, nodding.

Archeas’s smile deepened. "Yes. They are buried in the earth forever. It does not matter. Most of them were things I had no intention of ever bringing out into the world again."

"Easy for you to say." Ian sighed. He had been planning to raid that treasure vault one day.

As if guessing his thoughts, Archeas smiled.

Shaking off his lingering regret, Ian picked up his cup. "You’ve heard enough of my story. Now it’s your turn to speak."

"What are you curious about?" Archeas asked.

Ian brought the cup to his lips and said, "You have a favor to ask me, don't you? You’ll be returning to sleep soon."

Archeas offered no reply.

Ian drained his cup and met its strangely subdued eyes. "You’re still not fully recovered, aren’t you?"

"Indeed, you are far too perceptive," Archeas said, setting down its cup. "It was not that I hid it well, but that you knew and pretended not to."

"You had to recuperate for years even after fighting Tahumrit. There is no way you could have shaken off the aftereffects of destroying the Black Wall in just a few months," Ian replied, looking at Archeas’s faint, wry smile. "And you have the wrath of the heavens to deal with. So tell me how. As I said before, I will help you."

"How considerate. If I say I’m deeply moved, will that make me sound terribly sentimental?" Archeas asked, its lips curling into a smile as it looked at Ian.

Ian shrugged, picking up the bottle. "You’ve been like that all night."

"Oh dear. I just gave you more to tease me about. However, I have no intention of leaving you with such a task, Ian." Archeas chuckled softly, watching Ian refill its cup.

"... You don’t?" Ian paused, then narrowed his eyes.

Archeas smiled casually and nodded. "That’s right. Because it is an impossible task."

Ian stared into its golden eyes for a moment, then set the bottle down on the table. "Then I’ll need to hear exactly why you think so."