I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 673

The merchant procession entered the city.

"Is there a festival going on?"

"Smells good, too...."

As they passed through the gates, porters and guards sniffed the air and looked around at the lively city. The arrival of outsiders couldn’t bring the celebration to a halt. Even as the barbarians stepped aside to let the procession through, they never set down their drinks or slabs of meat.

"They're in. Let's go," said Ian, who had been waiting while talking with Mev.

In the middle of the main road, Ian finally started forward when an Imperial rider near the center of the caravan entered the city. He had wavy hair and a somewhat neurotic appearance.

Wearing a splendid gold earring on only one ear, he was wrapped in a cloak rich with gray fur. Beneath it, a glimpse of heavy black clothing embroidered with gold thread caught the light.

He was Joyce, the merchant leader of the Windmill Trading Company belonging to the Hexagonal Alliance.

Joyce, who had been scanning his surroundings from the moment he entered the city, soon spotted Ian approaching. With shining eyes and a faint smile on his lips, he tilted his head toward the back.

"Gus. Take command."

Despite the distance, Ian caught the words clearly. The heavily armed man following behind Joyce gave a nod, likely a newly assigned personal guard. His skin tone and features marked him as someone of mixed Vantur blood.

As expected, he's not surprised to see me.

Continuing his steps, Ian nodded. Mev was following naturally behind him, acting as his escort knight.

"Is that him?"

"My goodness. He really came back."

As Joyce, having dismounted swiftly from his saddle, approached, the whispers of the porters and guards passing by brushed Ian's ears.

Whether they recognized him or not, no one could hide their surprise.

"Honored Guest!" Joyce called out as he hurried forward.

As the barbarians parted to clear a path, Ian stopped and tipped his chin.

"It's been a while."

"It has indeed!" Joyce halted and bent one knee in Imperial fashion.

"I’d already heard the news, but seeing you in such good health with my own eyes puts me at ease. Late as it may be, thank you for returning safely."

It didn’t sound like empty courtesy. The Hexagon Alliance’s reputation was closely tied to Ian’s, after all. Unless they invalidated the golden insignia they’d issued him, they were all in the same boat.

"Don't mention it. I've already heard about your frequent travels to the snowfields. I express my gratitude," Ian said, bending his knee in return.

Joyce, straightening his posture, smiled. "I merely fulfilled my duty as a merchant. And left enough profit as well."

"Did you run into Commander Lucas’s group on the way here?"

At Ian’s question, Joyce nodded. "Yes. He confirmed that you were here. He also said we’d arrived at just the right time, though I only understand what he meant now."

He glanced around at the moving caravan and the lively city, then shrugged. "So this was a celebration of your return."

"Well, something like that." Nodding readily, Ian glanced at the back of the procession and added, "You must’ve heard about me from the Ark Caravan."

"That is correct."

"That must also be why you are traveling with my friend."

At the rear of the procession, a covered wagon rolled into the city. Walking alongside it was Mukapa. Not only was he completely covered head to toe in a fur hood and cloak, but he also had cloth wrapped around his face, clearly meant to conceal his identity.

"Yes, that’s also why our schedule was later than usual," Joyce replied with a nod, then lowered his voice. "To be honest, I was rather surprised."

Joyce paused, then added quietly, "To think you were acquainted with a young lady of House Sonnier."

"Sonnier?" Ian’s eyes twitched. Looking back at the carriage moving alongside Mukapa, he asked back, "Are you saying Lady Ingrid is accompanying you?"

"Yes, Guild Master Fael requested it personally. He asked me to escort the Lady to the snowfield secretly without asking about the details."

Ian’s gaze narrowed slightly. Ingrid was the alias Princess Seras used. Traveling in secrecy meant she had slipped out of the imperial capital yet again.

Is she here to see for herself where I stand? Or...

Despite the thoughts racing through his mind, Ian’s expression remained neutral as he said, "It must have been uncomfortable for you. Yet you accepted willingly."

"You appeared to share a close relationship with her. Helping seemed only natural."

At Joyce's strange tone, Ian raised an eyebrow slightly and looked at him again. Just by looking at his eyes, he could tell what kind of misunderstanding this man was having.

"Of course, it was also an opportunity to form a connection with the Lady whose name I had only heard of."

Soon, with a smile that suggested he’d decided not to pry further, Joyce looked back at the carriage stopping some distance behind.

"But she truly is as mysterious as they say. I wasn’t able to see her properly the entire journey. All communication came through her attendants."

"That sounds like her."

Looking back at him again, Joyce added, "If the opportunity arises... might you be willing to arrange a private meeting? I would like to issue her an insignia."

"Well...."

Ian looked once more toward Mukapa and the wagon. The baggage carts at the rear were naturally overtaking them now.

"It would be better if you didn't."

"Pardon?" Joyce asked, puzzled.

Ian met his eyes again and lowered his voice. "For your own sake, it would be best if you also kept silent about having escorted the young lady."

Joyce, his eyes twitching as if he felt something from Ian's gaze, quickly bowed his head. "I will do so."

Once he returned, he would surely press Fael for answers. And when he learned the truth, it would chill him to the bone.

Swallowing a smile, Ian added, "You've worked hard in many ways. I ask you to take good care of Hope City in the future as well."

"Hearing you say that puts my mind at ease in many ways. I will do my best." Joyce bent his knee once more.

Nodding, Ian looked back. "For now, rest and recover from the journey. We’ll be providing food and drink for everyone—enjoy yourselves tonight."

A group led by Kvassar and Volber was already coming out to greet the caravan. Thesaya and Nasser were among them, all eyes fixed not on the merchants, but on Ian himself.

"I will do so. Thank you for your hospitality," Joyce answered politely as Ian tilted his head to the side.

While Kvassar and Volber moved to greet the caravan, Ian turned back and asked, "All supplies are food?"

"Yes, isn't winter here? At this time of year, we always fill up strictly with food. Since the Agent of the Saint is here, we will sell at the Golden Emblem price—"

"Let's make an exception this time," said Ian.

Joyce raised his head sharply.

Looking down into his eyes, Ian curled up the corners of his mouth. "I’ll purchase everything at full market price. Convey my intent to the elders as well. Rest up, finish the trade, and we’ll speak again. I’ll introduce my companions to you instead of the young lady."

It was his way of returning the favor. A smile born of genuine gratitude spread across Joyce’s face.

"It is an honor, Agent of the Saint!"

"See you later."

"Yes, then, excuse me first."

After bowing, Joyce walked past Ian, offering a brief nod to Mev as well before moving on.

Watching him go, Ian swept his gaze over Thesaya and Nasser as they approached. Both wore expressions tinged with unmistakable anticipation.

"Ingrid?"

At the murmur, Ian paused and looked down. Mev was tilting her head, curiosity plain in her eyes at the unfamiliar name.

Only then did it strike him that he'd never told her about the princess’s alias. Judging by their reactions, the others hadn’t mentioned it either.

"I'll introduce her. You'll be surprised when you know who it is." 𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

With that, he headed toward Mukapa, silently wondering why he’d hesitated just now. Mev nodded and followed without pressing further.

Mukapa was waiting for Ian, having dismounted from his pony. Like its rider, the animal was bundled head to hoof in thick furs.

Is that a new servant?

As he walked, Ian briefly glanced at the driver’s seat, noting the calm, well-trained eyes of the driver.

"You really came straight to the North. You've worked hard, Mukapa," said Ian.

"I had promised," Mukapa answered as he loosened the cloth wrapped around his face and pulled back his hood.

A ripple of hushed exclamations spread among the barbarians watching from a distance as the orc’s rough features were revealed—gray skin, yellow eyes, unmistakably fierce.

However, that wasn’t what made Ian’s eyebrow twitch, or what drew laughter from Thesaya behind him.

"Is it that cold?"

It was because snot was streaming down Mukapa's nose. Instead of answering, Mukapa wiped the snot from his face with the cloth in his hand.

So the wrappings weren’t to hide his identity... he was just cold.

The corner of Ian’s mouth lifted on its own. Orcs were native to deserts and wastelands, after all. The cold of the North would be unfamiliar to him. Perhaps that was why orcs were hard to find in the North. Looking closely now, even the legs of the pony standing behind were trembling.

"This won't do. Nasser."

"Yes, my lord?"

"Take the pony, lay down some furs, and cover it properly. Ask Miguel to stoke the sacred flame a bit more. He’s probably gambling somewhere in an alley."

"Right now? ...Yes. Understood." Nasser, asking back, answered reluctantly and stepped in front of Ian.

It was obvious that Mev had shot him a look. As he took the reins and turned reluctantly, Ian jerked his chin toward the wagon.

"I heard you’re traveling with Lady Ingrid. What’s going on?"

"She requested it," Mukapa replied in a low voice, then fell silent.

Pressing further wouldn’t get him the full story. It was obvious enough that this hadn’t been Mukapa’s idea. Besides, the wagon was unnaturally quiet—likely sealed with some kind of magic to prevent sound from leaking out.

"I’ll hear it from her directly. For now, let’s head to my residence—" Ian stopped mid-sentence.

The wagon door suddenly swung open. Long fingers gripped the frame as a woman in a pulled-down hood leaned halfway out. Beneath the cascade of brown hair, blue eyes turned toward Ian.

"Agent of the Saint!"

It was Princess Seras disguised as Ingrid. Smiling brightly, she stepped down from the wagon. A tight-lipped middle-aged knight and an expressionless maid followed her out as she walked straight toward Ian.

"So you really were here. I can’t believe we've met again so soon. I’m glad I came."

"It's been a while." Ian blinked once before answering. He hadn’t expected her to jump out in a place this crowded.

Seeing his reaction, Seras’s smile deepened. "You look surprised. I’m sorry—I simply couldn’t wait any longer. I’ve waited far too long already."

"Well, I suppose that’s understandable." Ian shrugged, briefly glancing at Nasser, who was still standing there staring. When their eyes met, Nasser hesitated, then reluctantly resumed walking away.

"I don’t believe we’ve met before. Would you mind introducing us?" said Seras.

Nodding, Ian turned his gaze.

"This is Sir Mev Riurel, Apostle of Tir En and the Red Knight of the frontier. And this is Thesaya Erenos, Elder of Erenos and head of the house."

Ian faltered for a split second—Thesaya was staring at him with one eyebrow raised, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

You know everything already, so why...

Ignoring it, he turned back to Seras and finished calmly. "And this is Lady Ingrid of House Sonnier."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you. To stand before the Red Knight, whose fame reaches even the capital, and the noble last Elder in person, is an honor for my family." Seras greeted them by bending her knee.

Mev bowed her head with a solemn face. "The honor is mine, my lady."

"I have heard much about you as well. It is truly an honor to meet you like this." Thesaya also bent her knee politely, barely restraining her smile.

Seras's smile softened.

"Actually, I hoped to meet you two as well. I've heard many stories about you. But if it isn't rude, before that...."

Looking at the two alternately, her gaze returned to Ian.

"First, may I have a moment alone with the Agent of the Saint? There’s something important I need to discuss."