I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 647

"They didn’t actually break it. And there wasn’t any real clash, either." Lucia quickly added that remark, glancing back at Thesaya.

Ian lifted his cup to his lips and murmured, "So their patience finally ran out because I was late."

It was a situation he had been worried about.

Lucia swallowed hard and said, "I don’t think it’s something you need to blame yourself for, Sir Ian."

"So the barbarians are still banned from entering the mainland." Ian lowered his cup.

He’d already heard bits of the Northern situation from Fael of the Hexagon Alliance.

"Has word of my return not reached the Archduke yet?"

"I don't think so. The High Priestess sent word long ago, and she sent another letter when this incident happened." Lucia shook her head.

Ian set down his cup, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Yet he hasn't lifted the ban."

"The fact remains that the barbarians defied the Archduke's orders," Nasser said from behind Mev’s chair.

Lucia and Thesaya shot him dagger-like glances, but he only shrugged, utterly unbothered.

"They asked for the gate to be opened several times, apparently."

Clicking her tongue, Lucia picked up her cup and continued, "A report was sent to the Archduke as well, but of course, it was rejected. That's probably why they got angrier."

That bald bastard.

"They don't have to go through the gate. The wall isn't complete, you know," said Ian. He picked up a piece of bread from the plate in front of him and handed it to Mev.

Lucia nodded, took a sip of her drink, and replied, "Many prisoners and soldiers are working there. As you know, if they encounter the barbarians, it would be a literal massacre. The barbarian warriors probably wanted to avoid that situation too."

"There’s nothing honorable about it," Mev added before biting into the bread. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Lucia's gaze returned to Ian. "And they wouldn’t want to go against your wishes either, Sir Ian."

"But destroying the wall wouldn't upset me?" Ian chuckled and brought the cup to his lips again.

Lucia shrugged. "Maybe they think that's fair and square."

"How were they planning to destroy it?" Mev asked, chewing on her bread as Ian swallowed his drink.

Lucia set down her cup and smacked her lips before answering, "They started building trebuchets in plain sight of the Wall Fortress. Cutting down trees and moving rocks themselves."

"Meaning they'd fire if the gate wasn't opened by the time they were finished," Mev muttered, curling the corners of her mouth.

The corner of Ian's mouth also curled up as he set down his cup. It was a very barbarian-like threat.

"The guards immediately informed the Archduke. And the temple, of course."

Looking into Ian's eyes, Lucia continued more calmly, "It was their way of asking for help. They didn’t want to fight the barbarians. They’re following His Grace’s orders, but... they’re still kin."

"And because they knew you’d return someday," Thesaya added, crossing one leg over the other.

Moving her ankle back and forth, she held her cup in front of her face and smiled. "You're the Superhuman of the North, respected by all Northerners."

"Demigod." Mev threw the word out. Receiving Thesaya and Lucia's gazes, she continued while chewing her bread, "In the frontiers, Ian is now called the Demigod of the North. The Imperial nobles who were with you are spreading that story."

"Really?"

"Yes. People from the frontier who heard the rumors are immigrating to Orendel one after another, risking their lives."

Smiling, Thesaya took a sip of her drink and muttered, "Well. That useless man is finally doing something right."

"I know. To think it's having such an immediate effect."

A faint smile touched Lucia’s lips. It seemed they had already understood Simon’s plan perfectly.

Ian, who had emptied his cup clean, exhaled softly. "So that’s why Miguel rushed over."

"It’s the kind of behavior that could easily be taken as rebellion. But the High Priestess dispatched Miguel and some priests and sent a separate message to the Archduke. It probably worked out well." Lucia nodded.

"Right... Since that was a few weeks ago, if something bad had happened, news would have reached us by now," Mev answered with a sigh of relief.

Picking up the bottle, Ian filled his cup and looked at Lucia. "Then he’s probably calming the barbarians down by now."

"No, he’s probably clearing out the demonic realm." It was Thesaya who interrupted.

Ian’s brow twitched as he poured his drink, and she went on, "There are still quite a few places on the outskirts of the snowfields that have been touched by the erosion—wastelands, half-formed demonic realms."

"Those are places the Archduke ordered to be subjugated," said Nasser.

Catching Ian's gaze, he crossed his arms leisurely and added, "I heard those places are near the incomplete sections of the Wall. The barbarians probably left them alone as a sign of disobedience to the Archduke's orders."

"That will be the justification to appease the Archduke this time," murmured Ian, setting the bottle down.

In his mind, the snowfields and the Northern Wall unfolded like a map. The Wall stretched from the southwest to the northeast in a diagonal line.

The incomplete areas are in the south and east...

Hope City was in the western part of the snowfields. Since the wastelands in the east didn't overlap much with their living radius, leaving them wouldn't have been a big problem.

"That's right. It’s something he can accept without losing face. And he doesn’t have much choice. He knows you’ll be back soon, Sir Ian," Lucia answered readily.

"That guy must have a lot on his mind, too," said Thesaya.

With her characteristic fairy smirk, Thesaya added, "He knows how much the Northerners adore you. He’s probably racking his brain trying to figure out how to send you out of the north without consequences. It wouldn’t be strange if he’s already working with the Great Church."

The look in Mev's eyes as she chewed her bread turned cold. Lucia watched Ian with worried eyes, concerned about a situation where he and the Archduke might clash.

At this rate, a civil war really might break out in the North.

Ian was thinking the same thing. He already knew the relationship between the barbarians and Archduke Olaf wasn't good. However, now it felt as if they were one step away from crossing a line they couldn’t come back from.

As Thesaya said, it wouldn't be strange if the Archduke was plotting something. If he made an extreme move first, the situation would spiral out of control.

It would actually be fortunate if news of the Dark Prince reaching the front lines came before that. But if the timing is off...

Perhaps the prophecy he saw resulted from a conflict between the Archduke and the barbarians.

"Whatever the Archduke is thinking, he won’t act rashly. Even if he tries something, it's over if you simply don't react, Sir Ian," said Lucia, while Ian drank, contemplating ways to avoid the worst-case scenario.

Staring at Ian for a moment, she lowered her voice. "It's not the time for us to shed blood amongst ourselves, you know..."

"Of course. Don't worry. That won't happen. I’m more worried about Miguel, honestly. But you don't seem worried about him." Ian set down his cup and met her eyes.

"It's not that I'm not worried at all... but I think he'll be fine," Lucia replied lightly, glancing toward Thesaya. "The barbarian warriors are with him. I heard he's become quite the expert in monster subjugation."

"That makes sense." Ian nodded readily as well.

They were people who had lived fighting to survive. Taking charge of purifying the ominous lands in the snowfields, they must have become as elite as those in the frontiers.

Judging from the vision, the system he’d put in place before leaving was still functioning well.

"Besides, other priests and Nila are with him too."

"Right. Nila will protect Miguel well enough." Mev, wetting her throat with alcohol, nodded in agreement.

Looking back at Ian, she smiled. "Nila is practically a divine beast blessed by the Blazing Goddess. Sorry to say it, but Selim can't even compare. It might be a match for your demonic steed."

A faint smile touched Ian’s lips as well. Even back then, Nila had already been worthy of being called a horse among horses. If it had grown even stronger since, comparing it to Moro wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

"Plus, Miguel can't be compared to before either."

"That is correct. Miguel the Iron Fist. Now he is also called the Golden Fist," Nasser added, with a nod.

One of Ian's eyebrows raised slightly. "Golden, what?"

"Ah, you didn't know." Nasser chuckled.

He raised his left fist slightly. "When the great Platinum Dragon made Miguel its messenger, it carved a Mantra onto his prosthetic hand."

"It’s single-use, but strong enough to kill a demon," Mev added, sounding like someone who had seen it herself.

A faint, bitter smile finally spread on Ian's lips as he picked up his cup. "The Platinum Dragon gave Miguel a gift that suits him perfectly."

He couldn’t help thinking of the Saint of the Church, who had always handed out rewards on a whim.

Still, it was enough to ease Ian’s worries. Perhaps by the time he set foot in Hope City, they might already be on their way back from the subjugation.

"So... How did things turn out in the swamp?" asked Thesaya, who had been swinging her feet and sipping her drink.

Her eyes sparkled with naked interest—clearly the part she had been dying to hear. Lucia’s gaze brightened too as Ian shrugged lightly.

"Well, somewhat. Not as much as I hoped."

"Was the White Mage's legacy really sleeping there?" Lucia asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.

Ian took a sip of his drink and nodded. "Yeah. It was. But fully absorbing the bloodline memory will take time."

He had no intention of explaining the details. Lucia admired the White Mage—there was no reason to shatter that image for her.

"What on earth are you all talking about?"

The question came from Nasser. The group’s attention shifted toward him as he blinked and asked, "The White Mage's legacy?"

"What, you don’t know what that is?" Thesaya asked with a teasing grin.

Nasser answered immediately. "Of course I know the legend... but memories of the bloodline... Does that mean... you, Sir Ian... are a descendant of the White Mage?"

"Turns out I am." Ian shrugged. There was a strange satisfaction in surprising Nasser.

Looking at the group's expressions, it seemed he wasn't the only one.

"Lu Solar, have mercy... It's still hard to believe sometimes that you're a mage, but White Mage?"

"Doesn't that actually make more sense? It solves all the questions we felt watching Ian," Thesaya said, watching Nasser with a smile.

"That's not what's important right now." Ian cut in after taking another drink. He set down his cup and looked at Lucia and Thesaya in turn. "The Dark Prince has finished his preparations for war. He’ll reach the front soon."

He had no intention of mentioning the prophecy. The possibility that it wasn't a prophecy couldn't be ruled out, and the group would learn of their tragic ends. He couldn't know what thoughts they would harbor then. Now was the time to reduce variables, not increase them.

Thesaya's eyes widened.

As Nasser also held his breath, Lucia asked in a lowered voice, "Did you see a vision? Where is he headed?"

"I don't know that yet. The East is most likely, but it could be the North."

"Well, at this point, it doesn’t really concern us anymore, does it?"

Thesaya leaned back, a faint, almost excited smile playing at her lips as she traced a finger along the rim of her glass.

"We’re nearly finished preparing to withdraw anyway. Let them beat each other to pieces."

"That seems... excessively optimistic..." Nasser murmured.

Thesaya snorted. "Is there a reason not to be? Strictly speaking, this isn't even our problem. Besides, time is on our side. The longer the war drags on, the more both sides will have no choice but to be wary of Ian."

Her strangely shining swamp-colored eyes turned to Ian. " And if that happens, maybe Ian could become the new master of the continent."