I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 678

As Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly, Thesaya let out a cold snort and said, "On top of that, inspections have been tightened. Weapons and military equipment are basically banned from being taken out now. Which means..."

Her gaze shifted to Alec, who stood beside Miguel. "Every bit of supply sent from the temple was confiscated."

"Supplies?" Ian asked.

Alec swallowed hard. "The High Priestess asked the craftsmen for help. Weapons forged in the city, steel ingots as well—she sent everything she could. She asked me to pass along that he hoped it would be of use." 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

They had shared a secret conversation regarding Hyked. This was likely the High Priestess’s way of backing Ian in pursuit of her wishes.

"So, you’re saying they took it all," he murmured.

"Not everything, but most of it was denied export. They said it would be returned once we went back to the temple."

He glanced at Ian cautiously. "However, this isn’t a sudden policy change. While enforcement has tightened, the ban on taking these items out always existed. Commander Lucas simply turned a blind eye to it."

"But this time, he wasn't there," Ian said flatly.

Alec nodded. "Yes. A different commander from the front has taken temporary charge. There was nothing we could do."

"It just keeps getting better. Now we’re practically being treated as preemptive traitors," Thesaya said coldly.

Beside her, Miguel twitched his nose and smacked his lips in distaste. Tension naturally spread across Alec’s face. If Ian rose in anger, a civil war could begin on the spot.

"Thanks to this, everyone will realize the Archduke is afraid of us," Ian said.

Yet Ian didn’t get angry at all. Instead, he scoffed softly and lifted his gaze to the sky, where fine snow was drifting.

I might not be able to visit the Gray Magic Tower after all.

A premonition had flashed through his mind the moment he heard the news, along with the distant thunder that had echoed even earlier this morning.

"That makes sense, actually," Thesaya murmured, arching a brow. "Otherwise, there would be no reason to mobilize troops from the front lines. Having to serve a coward like that... I almost feel sorry for the knights and soldiers."

"Nothing is surprising about it. He’s always been like that," Ian replied.

In a way, one could call it consistency.

Ian snorted. The Archduke must have redeployed troops the moment he sent the letter through Lucas. It wasn't hard to guess why; he likely imagined Ian receiving the letter and invading with his barbarian legion.

Ian turned back to Alec. "There should’ve been my belongings mixed in. I assume they confiscated that as well?"

"No. Those were spared. Once they heard that those were the Agent of the Saint’s personal property, they didn’t dare touch them," replied Alec.

He then gestured toward the wagons behind them. "The craftsmen’s tools weren’t seized either. They didn’t even ask about those. So... it wasn’t the absolute worst outcome."

Ian tilted his head slightly.

Alec, glancing at Miguel, added, "Ah, you weren't aware."

"We’ve been stockpiling ingots bit by bit. Only as much as Commander Lucas could plausibly ignore," Miguel cut in quickly.

"You’re telling me there’s Imperial steel here?"

"Well, you never know when the Archduke might change his mind. One must prepare for the worst."

"Huh..." A glint appeared in Ian’s eyes.

Miguel whiffled his hands. "It’s not much. Nowhere near enough to arm all the barbarian warriors."

"Still impressive. Very mercenary-like foresight." Ian smirked.

Sharper than he looks.

Miguel scratched the back of his head with his prosthetic hand, looking embarrassed.

"But how would barbarians even work Imperial steel? I didn't even know there was a smithy here," Thesaya cut in.

Miguel turned to her and smiled. "Of course, they can't. I planned to smuggle in dwarf craftsmen if it came to that. Those fellows are small, so they're easy to hide. Their tunnel-digging skills are top-notch, too."

"Please lower your voice when saying such things, Priest..." Alec whispered, nudging Miguel’s arm.

Miguel cleared his throat and fell silent, while Thesaya giggled.

"Would you like to meet the craftsmen? They would be delighted if the Demigod were to commend them," Alec asked cautiously.

He seemed relieved that a civil war wasn't about to break out immediately.

"Let’s do it now," Ian replied without hesitation.

They had traveled all this way to help him; there was no reason to spare a few words of appreciation.

"Yes, please wait a moment." Alec bowed and turned away.

Immediately, Ian turned to Miguel. "How’s the forge holding up?"

"Well, barbarians are tidy folk by nature. Compared to what they used back home, it might be a bit rough, but it’s perfectly usable. Sir Mev went to check on it herself, so there’s no need to worry," Miguel answered easily.

Ian smiled. "So that’s where she went."

"She looked pleased. Said she’d been wanting to have her armor serviced."

It made sense. They had continued their journey without a proper break for maintenance. After enduring countless fierce battles, her gear was likely riddled with minor issues.

"Won’t time be tight, though?" Thesaya asked as Ian looked toward the wagons. "It's not like they have only one or two things to make."

Miguel snorted. "Just wait and see. Those pint-sized fellows may have short limbs, but their crafting speed is no joke. Plus, we have the Sacred Flame here."

Insulting and praising them in the same breath.

Suppressing a smirk, Ian swept his gaze over the two wagons where Alec and another priest were waiting. Bustling sounds drifted from inside, likely the noise of them gathering his equipment.

"Let's help the Emperor and ask for the North, Ian," Thesaya whispered.

Meeting his gaze, she curled her lips into a chilling smile. "Then we can legally take the Archduke’s head. He’s going to keep acting this way. We should eliminate the threat."

You just want to kill him.

Ian let out a low chuckle. "The front lines are a bigger concern right now."

"Why? The Black Wall is gone, and plenty of time has passed. Didn't they withdraw because there were no issues?"

"Well, we’ll see if that's really..." Ian trailed off.

Five dwarves had emerged from the wagons and were approaching. Their beards were braided in various styles, with different colors of hair and beards.

As with most dwarves, their ages were hard to guess. The one thing they shared was that each carried an item wrapped in luxurious white cloth.

They really love this sort of presentation.

Ian’s lips curled upward slightly. With Alec and the other priests following, the dwarves lined up before him and bowed.

"Oh, Demigod."

"It is an honor to see you again."

Ian nodded. "Thank you for willingly coming all the way to these snowfields."

Meeting the eyes of each craftsman, "I will do my utmost to ensure your stay is comfortable and well-supported. If you need anything, please ask anyone at any time."

"We have merely returned home, so pay it no mind."

"Thank you for the hospitality."

Each dwarf answered in turn. Their voices were blunt, characteristically so, but they couldn’t fully hide the emotion flickering in their eyes.

Smiling, Ian gestured with his chin. "Now, let's see what you've brought."

As if they’d been waiting for those words, the craftsmen stepped forward, pulling away the cloth coverings.

"Hmm..."

Ian let out a low exclamation as he inspected the armor. From plate to chain mail, and even leather reinforced with metal, everything was diverse. Yet, every single piece had been restored to a pristine condition.

"It was impossible to salvage the spell circuits or decorations. We couldn't even recognize them."

"It was mixed with Truesilver and other unknown materials, so perfect restoration was out of reach."

"So we focused on making the exterior as presentable as possible."

The craftsman spoke with a tone of shame regarding their work. Indeed, there were patchy spots where metal had been welded, and the reddish luster that once rippled across the surface had faded.

"No, this is excellent," Ian said, shaking his head as he ran his hand over the pieces. "I prefer plain and practical gear over anything fancy."

He didn't say it just because the overall appearance was cleaner. Although the engraved skills had vanished with the spell circuits, the various resistance options remained. The values had simply dropped slightly.

Still perfectly usable against spellcasters.

Most of the resistances leaned toward fire and fire-related status effects, but that didn’t mean the armor lacked secondary protections altogether. More importantly, its durability had been fully restored. The maximum durability had taken a hit, but even so, it would last a long while yet.

"You’ve worked hard. To restore them to this extent... I should compensate you all properly," Ian said, meeting their eyes again.

The dwarves shook their heads.

"No, being allowed to handle such treasures was payment enough."

"If anything, we’re the ones in your debt. We were able to glimpse not only the techniques of the masters beyond the Wall, but even those of our ancestors."

The way their noses twitched and their lips tightened clarified that Ian’s approval alone had been more than sufficient.

Is being secretly emotional a dwarf trait?

Ian nodded as if he had no choice. "The environment is crude, but please take good care of the weaponry as well. As I mentioned, ask for whatever you need."

"Yes."

"Don’t worry."

As the dwarves nodded, Miguel added, "I’ll have the items moved to the residence. I’ll escort the craftsmen myself. I was acting as a guide anyway."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Ian replied, turning around.

In the distance, a group of warriors led by Nasser, Urd, and Askel was approaching. Their haggard faces suggested they had been drinking late after yesterday’s training.

The moment they made eye contact with Ian, they broke into a run without a word.

They really don't need to go that far.

As Ian let out a wry chuckle, his gaze shifted to the crowd. He spotted a middle-aged knight standing among them, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Well, I suppose I should go tend to the Sacred Flame," Miguel said with a shrug.

Ian nodded as Nasser, Urd, and their group arrived and bowed.

"Sorry for being late, Great Warrior."

"You were here, my lord. Everyone was passed out, so it took some time to wake them."

Ian raised a fist to silence their rambling.

As the barbarians focused on him, he jerked his head to the side.

"Offer a prayer of thanks to the Blazing Goddess and treat the craftsmen with respect. Provide them with maximum support in both manpower and resources."

"Yes, we will do so, Great Warrior." Askel and the other warriors nodded in unison.

After all, there wasn’t a warrior alive who didn’t covet fine weapons.

"We will escort you. This way," Urd said to the dwarves.

The craftsmen, who had been stroking their beards, turned toward the wagons. Unlike the deference they showed Ian, they waddled off with a swagger.

"I’ll leave the rest to you. I should go see Her Highness," Ian said as the warriors moved off.

He turned his gaze back to Sir Phaden, who stood among the crowd. Meeting his eyes, Phaden bowed slightly.

"Ian, don’t tell me—" Thesaya whispered, her eyes shining.

Nasser and Miguel also looked at him.

Ian shrugged and started walking toward Phaden. "I'll find out when I get there."

Their suspicions were right.

"A messenger has arrived from the Eastern Front, Agent of the Saint," Seras said the moment they sat down in Ian’s villa.

Her face was pale and rigid.

"My uncle has appeared at Worsbell Fortress."

She met Ian's eyes for a moment, swallowed hard, and continued, "They say he approached the fortress gates all alone and demanded they open the doors."