I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 641

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

Even on the rugged downhill slope, Moro's movements were relentless.

Mev, who had been hugging Ian's waist, straightened her posture as Ian said, "Stop the wagons, Moro."

"Should we split left and right?"

Moro snorted, and Mev's voice followed.

Ian shook his head. "Stay on Moro and guard the wagons. I’ll rescue the ones at the back."

"I can jump off instead."

"You're better at mounted combat than I am. Besides, I'll look like a squire if I get off," Ian answered, turning to look at Mev.

"You still like hiding your identity. Fine. We’ll do it your way." Mev chuckled softly and lowered her visor.

Ian nodded and handed her the reins, then placed his feet on the saddle in a crouch. Moro jolted as it sprinted, but Ian balanced like a beastfolk, rising smoothly to his feet.

Grrr!

Moro lifted its outstretched head slightly. Stepping to the front of the saddle, Ian placed a foot on the beast's armored neck. Even with the added weight, Moro didn't lower its head and endured it. It was a stunt only possible because they were running downhill.

"Reckless as always," Mev murmured, having moved into the saddle. Her tone held more amusement than worry.

Instead of replying, Ian frowned against the fierce headwind and looked at the people fleeing below. Two horses pulled each of the two wagons, but they weren't moving very fast. It wasn't just because the horses were gaunt.

The wagons were overloaded with luggage, children, and the elderly. That was likely why those holding torches and crossbows were able to run alongside at all.

"No! Brother!"

"Honey! Come back! Please—"

Those in the wagons were looking back, shouting mournfully. They were clearly crying out to the stragglers falling behind.

"Keep running! Don't stop!"

"Don't look back!"

The stragglers' shouts cut through the wind. There were six of them in total—poorly armed with short swords and spears, three of them with snow-white hair.

Brave, but they won’t buy much time.

Ian shifted his gaze away from their terrified, determined faces. To his eyes, the pursuing wolves behind them were clearly visible, maintaining a moderate distance. He saw them clearly not only because of his night vision but because each wolf carried a faint trace of chaos within.

That one's the leader.

Scanning the beasts, which were large enough to pass for bison, Ian's gaze stopped at the rear of the pack. He had found the one harboring the most chaos. Of course, the difference wasn't significant to him, but to ordinary humans, a creature like that was a disaster.

Growl!

The wolves' rough breathing surged louder in an instant. The ones in the lead split to the left and right. They were leaving the stragglers to the ones behind and continuing after the wagons.

"No!"

"Damn it! Come here! Come here, I said!"

Realizing what was happening, the stragglers yelled, turning toward the wolves passing them by. Despair washed over their faces—throwing their lives away had become meaningless.

Unlucky for them to run into wolves.

Ian pushed his raised right hand into the pocket dimension. Soon, a thick, long hilt and a wide blade appeared. It was the Fang Greatsword, its tip jutting forward sharply.

Grrr...

Moro snorted at the added weight, but Ian drew the massive sword fully out and let it hang at an angle. He kept his balance easily, unmoving even atop the running beast.

Or maybe they’re lucky. They ran into us, after all.

He glanced forward. The wagon group was drawing near fast.

"Wh-What is this sound?"

"Something’s coming from ahead!"

Some of the drivers and guards had finally heard Moro’s pounding hooves. However, they were still glancing around, unable to confirm anything by sight. The flickering torches had already ruined their night vision, making it impossible to see what was bearing down on them.

"Moro, to the right," said Ian. bending his knees.

He gripped the greatsword's hilt with both hands. His gaze was already scanning the stragglers behind, not the people running toward them. They were gathered in a circle around one person holding a torch, surrounded by the wolf pack.

Growl!

Moro veered diagonally and slowed its sprint slightly. Bending his knees, Ian held the greatsword out to the side for balance.

Shing!

A cool metallic sound followed from behind. It was Mev drawing her sword.

"Aah?"

"Wh-What on earth!"

Finally spotting Moro running toward them, the fleeing people screamed in shock. No wonder fear washed over their faces; at a glance, all they would see was a monstrous beast charging at them with a figure standing on its back. To their eyes, it must have looked like a four-legged monster.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

Ian paid them no mind. His gaze remained fixed on the dim light outlining the stragglers.

As Moro passed the wagons, Ian raised the greatsword above his head and said, "Get back to the wagons."

A wolf was leaping from the trees ahead. It was clearly about to pounce into the middle of the stragglers.

Grr...

Lowering its head, Moro turned sharply. Ian kicked off the beast almost simultaneously.

Whoosh—

Moro, carrying Mev, sprinted in a circle, while Ian shot out like a cannonball. It was a suicidal maneuver by any normal standard, but Ian’s eyes stayed locked on the wolf’s charging torso.

Swoosh—

A cluster of light spread from the blade of the raised Fang Greatsword—the Blessing of Light. A heartbeat later, the sword swept downward in a great shining arc.

Crunch—

The pointed edge of the sword drove deep into the wolf’s flank. With a strangled cry, the beast twisted violently to the side.

Crackle!

The wolf slammed into the ground and slid to a stop. It left a long, shimmering trail of light like an afterimage.

"Wh-What?"

"What kind of madness—"

Shocked cries erupted from the stragglers a beat late. Only now did they realize a wolf had been charging at them.

Their widened eyes snapped from the giant wolf sprawled on the ground to Ian, who stepped over it.

Ian still didn’t look their way.. He immediately pulled out the greatsword and looked beyond the dim light.

Growl!

Wolves were pouring in from all directions now. Some from behind him as well.

Swoosh—

With the sound of wind, a wolf extending a forepaw the size of a human head closed in like an arrow.

Thwack—

It snapped mid-air as if struck by an invisible club. However, Ian didn't rush at the tumbling beast.

Tap, tap, tap!

He dashed instead, greatsword raised, toward the opposite side of the stragglers. Two wolves were rushing in one after another.

"Aah!"

"G-Get down!"

The stragglers ducked in terror as Ian sprinted past and swung the blade in a wide horizontal arc.

Hiss— Crunch!

One of the charging wolves was flung sideways as if hit by a baseball bat. The blade was embedded deep in its flank.

Even while swinging his arm fully, Ian looked straight ahead. The wolf following behind had leaped with its jaws wide open.

A faint ripple flickered across Ian’s gaze at nearly the same moment.

Thud.

The wolf bent mid-air as if it had slammed into an invisible wall. Ian’s Willful Grasp had struck it head-on. It shattered the moment it collided with the wolf, but it was enough to halt the beast’s charge for a moment.

Hiss—

That single moment was all Ian needed. Ian swung the greatsword again, its broad, blunt spine smashing into the side of the wolf’s head.

Crash— Thud!

Dragged along the path of his swing, the wolf hit the earth with a heavy thud. Even in that fleeting instant, Ian felt the skull crack completely beneath the impact. He drove the blade downward, then hurled himself toward the next wolf rushing in.

Crunch!

A battle was unfolding around the wagons as well. Moro rammed into a charging wolf head-on, while Mev brought both her swords down onto another wolf’s skull. Her posture was unwavering, as if her lower body was firmly fixed to the saddle.

"Aaaah!"

Terrified screams erupted continuously around the wagon. The horses pulling the wagon had collapsed, bringing everyone to a halt.

Crackle—

Of course, it wasn't a situation where they could move again anyway. Moro and Mev were circling the wagon, fighting the wolves.

Striking another wolf, Ian glanced at the wagon, then turned his gaze to the darkness beyond the light.

The leader.

Under a distant tree’s shadow, he finally spotted it—a massive wolf hidden in the darkness. His lips curled faintly.

"Stay down," said Ian, then shot into the darkness like an arrow the next moment.

"Light...."

To those who had cast aside their weapons and thrown themselves flat, it looked as though a streak of radiance carved through the dark.

"Glory to the Radiant Light...."

Someone murmured. No one objected to his words. Everyone was thinking the same thing. The Radiant Goddess had sent an emissary to save them.

A roar echoed from beyond the darkness, followed by a sharp flash of light. The stragglers froze, breath held tight in their throats.

Roar—

Wolf howls began to spread from all directions. Then, the surrounding darkness wavered. It didn't take long to realize that this phenomenon was caused by the wolf pack scattering in all directions. A strange stillness followed, settling heavily over.

"Ma, Marie!"

A young man, eyes wide, sprang up. Turning his head to look at the light in the distance, he broke into a desperate sprint.

"Honey!"

"We’re alive! Alive!"

As if that were a signal, others stood up and ran toward the light. They didn't even spare a glance at the wolf corpses scattered around them.

"Brother—"

"My love!"

People were running from the wagons, too. Running toward each other, they soon met at the boundary where the light faded.

"Why did you do that? Why!"

"You’re safe... thank the heavens...."

Cries and sobs of all sizes spilled between the reunited groups. Their words were different, but their emotions were the same.

Of course, not everyone was swept up in the joy of reunion.

Snort... Puff...

At a distance barely reached by the torchlight, a warhorse with its head lowered stood still, breathing roughly. Covered in wolf's blood over its black barding, the beast was licking the blood flowing from the wolf carcass sprawled in front of it.

And the knight on its back said nothing, simply letting the sword hang low. She kept her back straight, staring like a statue into the darkness behind them. To the survivors, the sight radiated both awe and terror—something they dared not approach.

"Light above..."

"Thank... thank you...."

Whispering voices spread around the wagon. None of them dared to step closer. They simply fell to their knees where they stood, bowing deeply.

Thud— Thud—

It wasn't long before footsteps approached from the darkness behind. Those hugging each other also turned one by one to look in the direction of the sound.

A black-haired man stepped out of the shadows, splattered with blood. The greatsword he had used to strike the wolves was nowhere to be seen, but no one questioned that fact.

"Th-Thank you for saving us!"

The barely armored young man, who had been staring, blinked and then shouted. He dropped to his knees in a deep bow.

"Thank, thank you!"

"Glory to the Brilliant Light—"

The others followed, collapsing to their knees in a wave. The man strode past them without responding and came to a halt.

Clip-clop— clip-clop—

As silence settled over the area, the warhorse carrying the knight approached behind the man. The man, Ian, looked over the survivors calmly.

"What is your name?" the man asked. He looked down at the young man prostrated before him—one of the stragglers, and the first to regain his senses and call out.

"Martin, it's Martin, my lord!" The young man looked up slightly and answered immediately.

"Good. Martin, what are you? You don't look like bandits." Ian nodded.

"O-Of course not! We are free people of Melan, a city in the southern La Drin. We’re not criminals."

Martin blurted it out, then glanced up timidly at Ian and added, "We were just heading to Orendel, the sacred land of the frontier!"

"Ah, so... immigrants." A faint curve finally touched Ian’s lips.

Martin let out a soft sigh of relief as Ian added, "I didn't know the rumor had already spread that far."

"A while ago, an Imperial caravan passed through the city. We learned it from them. To be precise..." Looking at his sister sitting beside him and the others, Martin concluded. "From an Imperial noble who was accompanying them."

Ian's smile faded.