I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 677

"Thank you, Agent of the Saint," Seras answered, taking a sip of her wine.

As Ian drank with her, the corner of his mouth curved faintly upward.

Didn’t even have to lift a finger.

Not only did he gain a justification to delay joining the war, but he also pushed both the responsibility and the rewards onto her shoulders. It was, for all intents and purposes, a one-sided deal—one that would’ve been impossible if Seras hadn’t come to him of her own accord.

"I really don’t stand a chance against you, Agent of the Saint. Your proposal, your conditions... every one of them leaves no room to refuse, and no room to negotiate either."

She sounded as though she’d known that from the start. Relief flickered across her face, mingled with a faint, bitter smile.

"To think you were preparing for war from the moment you returned.... I can only be grateful that you have no ambition for the throne."

"Don't mention it," Ian replied lightly as he lowered his cup.

While Seras let out a long breath, Thesaya, who had been watching quietly, said,

"It’s not that I welcome this war, but perhaps this civil conflict might cut away the Empire’s rot and mend its fractures, allowing it to be reforged into something stronger."

"I only hope that not too much innocent blood is spilled in the process," Seras replied softly, her gaze turning to Ian. "All I can do is pray that my uncle makes the wise choice you expect of him."

Whether that was truly her wish was hard to say. If Hyked were to covet the throne and clash with Ian, her path to the crown would open.

However, Ian said nothing, merely lifting his cup again.

As long as the promises are kept.

It made no difference to him either way. Truth be told, he found Seras, who stepped into danger herself, far more palatable than that sly Third Prince.

After draining his cup clean, Ian finally asked, "Anything else you wish to discuss?"

While Seras blinked, he added, "I thought you might be getting hungry. And I also promised to talk to the master of the Windmill Trading Company."

"There is one more thing," Seras said after looking at him for a moment.

She studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly.

"Would you mind guiding me through the festival? Earlier, I noticed quite a crowd of barbarians gathered in the square."

While Thesaya’s eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced at Seras, Ian nodded. "Well, if that’s what the client wants."

It wasn't like he could entrust the princess to people she was meeting for the first time. Besides, the caravan would also be in the square, so it was just that Seras would be accompanying him to where he originally had to go.

As Seras smiled, Ian looked past her. "I’ll lend you my villa. You two can stay there. And as for you—"

His eyes passed over Asme and settled on Phaden. "Use the house next to it. My villa doesn't have properly divided rooms." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"Your consideration alone is more than enough, Agent of the Saint," Phaden answered with formal courtesy, and Asme bowed.

Ian, smiling only by pulling the corners of his mouth, stood up from his seat, ignoring Thesaya's gaze.

"Let’s go. I’ll wait by the door—take your time and follow when you’re ready."

He turned first, giving Seras space to prepare. She needed to tidy up her disheveled appearance and hide her identity.

"Ian," whispered Thesaya, who quickly followed him as he stepped into the hallway.

When Ian looked back, she smiled brightly. "Thank you for looking out for me and for the beastfolk."

"When have I not?" Ian snorted.

All of a sudden.

"You seem to have forgotten, but you are the representative of the Deep Forest of the South. Even once you’re settled in the capital, you’ll have plenty to do."

"So that’s why you set things up that way? That's even more touching. Don't worry. I'll turn everything upside down, starting with Aynas." She waggled her eyebrows ominously.

Mev stepped up beside her. "Thanks for caring about the frontier too, Ian."

Receiving Ian's gaze, she bowed her head slightly and added, "I hadn’t even considered that far ahead. It’s embarrassing."

"No need to blame yourself. Let's stop with the embarrassing words." Ian let out a short laugh, then added as he resumed walking, "I was offloading my responsibilities as well."

They were already standing before the closed entrance. From beyond it came raucous noise and bursts of laughter.

While Ian tilted his head slightly, Thesaya, linking arms with Mev, said, "So, we’re free to go have fun now, right? I think the Snub-Nose or the Imperial Slick would be more entertaining."

"Check on Mukapa first. By now, he’s probably being swarmed by the warriors."

Not only was the orc tall and broad, but he was also carrying the battle hammer Ian had gifted him. Every single detail was enough to draw barbarian attention.

"Sir, please check on Moro once."

While Thesaya nodded, Ian's gaze returned to Mev.

"If it is getting beaten by Nila, pull them apart."

"Okay. I will." Mev answered readily.

Thesaya looked like she had something else to say—but stopped.

"I'm sorry I'm late." Seras had stepped into the hallway.

Ian’s eyebrow lifted slightly when he noticed Asme supporting her. Her steps were unsteady.

Well, she had sipped all of that strong liquor. Having traveled a long journey and not being strong with alcohol originally, she couldn't help but be tipsy.

"I guess the tension finally caught up with me," Seras said with an awkward smile.

Ian shrugged and turned, pushing the door open.

The noise surged forward, and a figure standing guard came into view.

"You’re done?"

It was Nasser. In front of him stood two other women, likely the owners of the laughter they’d heard earlier.

How did this guy end up like this?

Catching Ian’s look, Nasser replied calmly, a casual smile on his face, "I took care of everything you asked for. If you’re finished, may I dismiss myself?"

"Go ahead. You look busy."

At Ian's answer, Nasser quickly bowed his head and turned around. The women naturally followed him without taking their eyes off Nasser's face.

"Pretty impressive for a Half-Ear," Thesaya muttered under her breath.

Ian shook his head slightly and stepped forward. Darkness had settled on the city before they knew it. Torches burned brightly here and there, illuminating the barbarians moving through the streets. From afar came drumbeats like a pounding heart, mingled with cheers and the blare of horns.

"It’s so lively. You rarely see anything like this in the capital." Seras said softly. She had shrugged off Asme’s support and drawn close, walking beside him.

"Well, it's a festival. It will be different tomorrow."

Seras smiled lazily, her eyes slightly unfocused. "Maybe it’s the atmosphere, but even after sunset, it doesn’t feel as cold."

"Maybe because of the heat of the festival, it seems less cold even though the sun has set."

"That’s because they’ve stoked the sacred fires higher." Ian broke off abruptly and twisted sharply to the side.

Seras, staggering and losing her balance, fell toward him. Of course, he didn’t let the princess hit the ground. Even as she fell, he summoned his Willful Grasp and caught her.

Seras went limp at an angle. As lightning flashed overhead, Seras finally turned her head.

"I made a fool of myself... Agent of the Saint. I felt dizzy, that’s all," Seras said, smiling with a mix of embarrassment and faint regret.

From behind them came a suppressed giggle—undoubtedly Thesaya.

"You’d be better off returning to your quarters."

"Then I’d miss the festival. I’ll be fine in a moment."

"...If you insist." Ian shrugged and resumed walking, lightly supporting her with the Willful Grasp.

Behind them came Phaden’s dry cough.

Rumble...

Another low thunderclap rolled through the sky. Still leaning into Ian’s support, Seras looked up.

"Thunder again... Come to think of it, I heard you’re called the Great Warrior of Thunder and Lightning."

"It is a phenomenon unrelated to me."

Joking at a time like this.

With a quiet snort, Ian added, "You’d better brace yourself. This is a sign that a blizzard will descend from the Ahigorn Mountains before long."

"From the mountains?" Blinking, Seras looked back at Ian only then. "But this thunder and lightning are spreading from far away in the east, Agent of the Saint."

"East?" Ian’s eyes twitched as the realization caught up with him. Since it was a sound spreading from afar, it was difficult to gauge the exact direction.

As he lifted his gaze to the sky, Seras continued, "Yes. I saw the distant sky flashing even before we crossed the Wall. The guild master found it strange too. After all, the Black Wall is gone now."

It was also the reason Ian's eyes narrowed. Ian, nodding slightly, soon turned his gaze to his right arm.

An all-too-familiar presence came to mind—his deceitful "assistant," an expert in precisely these matters.

Looks like I’ll need to step outside the city at night for a while.

However, Yog, wrapped around his wrist, still showed no movement. With the sacred flames burning so strongly, waking seemed difficult.

"Is something wrong?" Seras asked quietly.

Nonchalantly turning his gaze to the street, Ian shook his head. "Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing."

"Then, would you mind putting me down now? The dizziness has passed. Everyone is looking, so it's a bit embarrassing." A troubled smile spread across Seras's lips as she looked at Ian.

The barbarians were openly watching Seras drift through the air like a wandering spirit. Only then did the murmurs reach Ian’s ears, whispers about divine power and miracles.

"My apologies."

He lowered her to the ground. Clearing his throat softly, Ian turned his gaze toward the nearby square.

Boom— Boom—

Under the blazing light of the sacred flames, barbarian warriors danced to the pounding drums, roaring as they moved.

Ian watched briefly—until his eyes landed on a massive figure standing stiffly in the middle, like a sack of grain dropped by accident.

"Getting tangled up in that would be a headache."

Ian turned slightly, glancing toward the merchant caravan lined up behind the square. Porters were hauling wooden crates full of rations. It looked like they’d decided to eat first and work later.

He tilted his chin. "Let’s go around that way."

"Actually, I enjoy dancing."

Ian pretended not to hear her.

Still, the night was only beginning—and in the end, Ian couldn’t completely escape the grasp of the reveling barbarians.

***

"Ian, are you asleep?"

Thesaya’s voice came from beyond the door.

The room was dark, the windows shut tight, but Ian’s eyes snapped open at once.

"No, what is it?"

He’d been meditating while lying down.

"Priests from the Temple of the Brazier just arrived. Looks like they brought something."

So it’s not news of the war, then.

Ian pushed himself upright. After all, there were pieces of equipment he’d left with the dwarves for repairs.

"I’ll get ready and come out."

"Mind if I go hang out first?"

"Go ahead."

The moment he finished speaking, Thesaya’s footsteps faded away.

Letting out a soft chuckle, Ian shoved his fur-lined boots onto his feet.

It took longer than expected, but this works.

Once the war began, Ian had planned to make a quiet trip to the Gray Magic Tower.

They would need time to prepare for deployment anyway, so he planned to go quietly with just Mev. It wasn’t only for leveling up, but a necessary step toward infiltrating the Central in the future.

The items the dwarf craftsmen were bringing would also be useful then. The only remaining uncertainty was whether Archduke Olaf would send supplies, and in Ian’s view, the chances were exceedingly slim.

If news of the war reaches him, there’s no way he’ll send anything.

Roughly draping the fur cloak he had hung on a small table, Ian finally stepped out into the hallway.

The mansion was quiet. He was the only one who’d stayed shut in his room. The rest of the companions were busy with their tasks.

Whoosh—

As he pushed open the main doors, a crisp wind washed over him. Ian blinked, noticing flecks of snow carried in the air.

Snow was starting to fall.

"It will rage soon...."

A faint smile traced his lips as he stepped out onto the street. Before long, Hope City would effectively become a natural fortress.

Of course, for him and for this city, blessed by the sacred fire, it wouldn’t be much of a problem.

"Great Warrior...."

"Demigod."

The barbarians, busy coming and going along the street, dipped their heads lightly in greeting. They did not stop what they were doing or clear the way as they had before, and Ian continued, meeting their eyes in return.

Two days had been enough for the city to erase the aftermath of the festival. Now, everyone was preparing for the coming war.

Nice not having to micromanage.

Warriors were tanning leather or hauling logs. Women stitched garments for them, while children carried the wood the warriors had prepared.

"Don’t rush the details. Especially the wheel axles—check them properly."

"Anyone got more rope? Are you planning to twist it all day or what?"

The square was already crowded with supply wagons in use. The reason the warriors looked so worn was simple: they’d begun combat and tactical training under Mev, Nasser, and Sir Phaden. It wasn’t something that could be perfected overnight, but it was better than nothing.

Ian's eyes, having entered the main street past the square, narrowed slightly. Three carriages with roofs instead of braziers were slowly crossing the main street.

More came than I thought....

But that wasn’t why his eyes narrowed. Among the barbarians clearing the way were Miguel and Thesaya, with a priest walking beside them. None of them looked well. It wasn’t because Lucia wasn’t there.

"That bald lunatic...." Thesaya, who had been muttering under her breath, fell silent as she noticed Ian approaching.

"Demigod."

Miguel, as well as the priest walking beside him, spotted Ian and bowed.

Ian looked at the priest standing next to Miguel.

Was his name Alec?

He was the one who had been together in the subjugation of the snowfield wastelands and who had returned with Lucia. Now, instead of irritation, his expression was full of awkward caution.

"You’ve come a long way. It’s fortunate that you arrived before the blizzard raged," said Ian, approaching.

Slowing his steps, Alec answered politely, "Thank you for your hospitality."

"I hear His Grace has done something again."

The wagons came to a halt as Ian stopped to face them. Miguel scrunched his nose, and Alec swallowed dryly.

"That is—"

"This is killing me. Why does everyone always take so long to say anything?"

Thesaya, interrupting as if her insides were bursting, looked back at Ian.

"They say the troops stationed at the gateway fortress have increased significantly. The Archduke, that baldhead, is moving all the frontline defense forces to the barrier."