I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 686

"There was news, but it was brief this time. In the meantime, he’s appeared before Warsbell Fortress twice more."

At Seras’s reply, Ian took a drink and gave a small nod.

Narrowing her eyes as she recalled the details, Seras continued, "When entry was denied, he withdrew without protest. He even told the garrison not to feel guilty, and asked them to continue carrying out the Imperial command faithfully, just as they have been."

"That does sound like him," Ian murmured as he lowered his cup, pointedly ignoring Yog’s whisper about Hyked putting on a virtuous act.

Thesaya let out a faint scoff beside him for much the same reason.

"Just as you said, Agent of the Saint," Seras went on, unaware of their thoughts, "I feel it won’t be long before my uncle tries a different approach. Perhaps that is why my father remains silent. If my uncle crosses the front line at will, it would give him grounds to declare him a traitor."

"It's clear they have absolutely no idea what result that will lead to," said Thesaya, while Ian glanced at the door.

Catching Seras’s eyes, Thesaya curled the corners of her mouth gently. "If His Majesty or the Pope knew the capital itself would fall, they wouldn’t be sitting so comfortably right now."

Honestly, she never misses a chance to sound like a fairy.

While Yog chuckled, Ian looked back at Thesaya. Thesaya wouldn’t have spoken so plainly if she had believed Seras might change her mind.

Thesaya shrugged as if she had no other intent. "Well, even if Your Highness were to warn them, it might not change much. The rift between the royal family and the Great Church has already formed, and as you can see, the North isn’t in any position to support the Central."

Her gaze returned to Ian. "As for the South, with so many ships lost, transporting troops will be difficult. I’ve heard that those isolated there are struggling just to return."

She was clearly still receiving steady reports from the South. It was more than enough to make Ian swallow another hollow laugh.

What is this, a kiss and a punch?

And yet, she wasn’t wrong. The Central was in a situation where they had to face the Dark Prince with their forces alone. The West, the breadbasket, wouldn't be much help, and support from the archipelago couldn't be expected either.

"I guess so," Seras said quietly, lifting her cup again. Her eyes churned with thought and emotion.

"Was there anything else you wished to pass along?" Ian, who had been quietly watching her, finally asked.

What she was thinking no longer concerned him.

"No, that’s all." Seras wiped her mouth lightly with her sleeve.

Ian nodded, drained the remainder of his wine in one go, and returned the empty cup to Asme.

"Sir Phaden asked me to persuade you one more time."

"He still hasn’t let it go, has he?" Seras smacked her lips faintly as Asme turned in surprise. "I’ll speak to him directly. Thank you for passing it along."

"Don't mention it. Then, I will go out first. It looks like we’ve reached a suitable place to make camp." Shrugging, Ian pulled his hood back into place and turned around. He hadn't intended to persuade her for long, anyway.

Reaching for the door, he paused and glanced back once more. "Don’t take the Elder’s advice too seriously. You may come to regret it."

A faint, crescent-shaped smile curved at Thesaya’s lips as she looked back at Ian. There was a knowing glint in her eyes, as though her thoughts had just been laid bare.

Just as he suspected—once he was gone, she had every intention of whispering more pointy-eared advice into the princess’s ear.

"Yes, I’ll keep that in mind," Seras replied easily.

Judging from her look, it was clear she was already thinking the same thing.

Swallowing a chuckle, Ian opened the door and stepped outside.

Flickering firelight, snow stitching the darkness, and the clamor of voices rushed back to him at once, along with the biting cold.

"Fast indeed," murmured Ian.

Nila turned its head to look at him as Ian scanned the surroundings. In the time he’d been inside, rows of makeshift tents had already sprung up around them.

As the noise of the legion filled the air, Phaden, who had been waiting behind the carriage, approached him. "Have you finished speaking?"

Nodding, Ian jerked his chin toward the closed door. "Go inside. Her Highness said she wants to speak with you directly."

"So she refused, then...." Phaden let out a quiet sigh, yet stepped toward the carriage without hesitation. There was resolve in his eyes, as though he had already steeled himself for the answer.

Ian looked away, uninterested.

"You finally came out, my lord."

Nasser and Alex emerged from the front of the carriage. The horses that had been pulling it were already gone, likely gathered somewhere together to escape the cold.

"Is it all right if we take Nila and Moro with us?"

"Just make sure they don’t stick too close to each other."

Nasser smiled broadly. "Don’t worry. Everyone’s well aware of what happens when they don’t behave. Come on, Nila."

Nasser and Alex moved off, Nila following them, with Moro trailing at a careful distance.

"Hold the pole straight. What, are you out of strength?"

"This is why dealing with civilized folk is such a pain...."

At last, the full scope of the encampment came into view. Tents rose everywhere, each roughly chest-high, with more still being hastily pitched along the perimeter.

"Ugh...."

"Snrrk—khhh...."

Groans and snores drifted from inside. It seemed many had fallen into sleep the instant they lay down.

Ember priests moved busily between the tents, carrying logs with glowing coals clutched in long metal tongs. They were likely setting up small sacred fires throughout the camp.

"Burn away the profane darkness..."

Ian’s gaze drifted to the mobile brazier at the center of the camp. Miguel stood there in prayer, Mukapa beside him holding firewood—whether to help or simply to warm himself was unclear.

Either way, Miguel and the priests carried a heavy burden. Without the sacred flame, both the march and the coming battle would suffer greatly.

With the fall of a crucial temple, it’s no wonder the North couldn’t hold.

Memories from the game surfaced again. Back then, the North had already been half-ruined by the erosion of the Black Wall. He hadn’t lived through it himself, but there was no way they could have repelled Akihatara’s invasion.

That assault must have marked the North’s downfall.

Even now, with so much changed, it had nearly happened again. There was no room for doubt.

—You want the Dark Prince to have his revenge, don’t you? But don’t forget, my friend. He will eventually cast off his shackles.

A muffled whisper spread through his mind.

—And if he is consumed by chaos in the process, a new archdemon will be born. One far beyond anything those half-formed creatures could ever compare to.

So that’s why you were quiet.

Ian narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing, turning his gaze away.

—I know you don’t like it, my friend, but it’s inevitable, just like the war that’s about to begin.

As his eyes swept over the campsite, Yog’s whisper continued.

— Of course, perhaps he might achieve true transcendence. But the heavens of this world won’t simply watch that happen. They’ll strike him down. And that punishment will become a calamity for mortals.

Finally stopping his gaze, Ian began walking between the tents.

"So you are suggesting we kill him before that happens?" Ian murmured, barely moving his lips.

Yog let out a low chuckle.

—That would be best. There’s no other choice. If he dies by your hand... he’ll understand. Perhaps he sensed it from the very first moment you met, that you were his true fate.

That’s a complicated way of saying you want some high-grade chaos.

Ian twisted one corner of his mouth bitterly. In truth, he’d felt the same premonition himself. From experience, the great currents people called fate always flowed that way.

Still, he had no intention of voicing such thoughts. It wasn’t only because he didn’t want to indulge Yog.

"Your Excellency."

"You came."

Lucas and Edith approached through the rows of tents. Mev stood slightly ahead of them, her back to Ian. She had removed her helmet and held it at her side, revealing sweat-matted red hair and a pale, exhausted face.

"Looks like you were in the middle of a report. How much is left?"

Mev straightened and dipped her head as Ian walked closer.

"All done. We were receiving instructions," Lucas answered with his hands clasped behind his back.

"I’ll give them myself. We move again as soon as the sun rises. Tell the centurions to make sure everyone sleeps immediately. No pointless activity."

Ian glanced briefly at Mev, who had lowered her head.

"I'll hear the detailed report from the vice legion commander."

"Yes, Your Excellency. As for your tent—"

"Next to that one. Saw it."

As Ian tilted his head slightly, Lucas and Edith broke into faint smiles and turned away. They would move among the centurions, relaying his orders. Ian no longer had to manage every step himself.

"As you can see, we are out of the mountains," said Mev, meeting Ian’s gaze. Her formal tone and posture made it clear this was official business.

After all, she was his vice legion commander.

"From here to Calbrook, it shouldn’t really—"

"It’s cold." Ian cut her off calmly, meeting her green eyes with a faint smile. "Let’s talk inside the tent. Over a drink."

"All right," Mev’s lips curled slightly as she turned to lead the way.

Ian fell into step beside her. The moments just before sleep were the only times they could truly talk. Mev was always busy. In truth, she was the one holding the legion together. The discipline now visible in the ranks was largely her doing.

"You sleep on the bed today," Ian said as they passed through the legionnaires, his eyes fixed on the tall command tent ahead.

Mev stopped and glanced back, narrowing her eyes. "Again?"

"Yeah, again," Ian answered.

Letting out a low sigh, Mev whispered, "I’m really fine tonight. I’ve been using it almost every night already."

"Let’s not argue about it." Stopping, Ian lifted the cloth at the tent entrance as he added, "You know how this always ends anyway—"

The night sky flashed.

This time, the light was far more vivid than it had been during the day. Violet streaks tore across the darkness, but that wasn’t what made Ian stop mid-sentence.

Thump...

The essence bead of chaos resonated, and the world flipped violently, plunging into darkness.

Of all times...

With the sensation of drifting through darkness, Ian clicked his tongue inwardly. Mev’s startled face surfaced vividly in his mind. Still, there was no real cause for concern. She would steady him and pull him inside the tent without trouble.

It took only a few seconds for the surroundings to begin to surge. In an instant, the blizzard sharpened into focus, staining the darkness white.

Rumble, crash!

From beyond it, a massive violet thunderbolt flashed. The thunder roared, reverberating through Ian’s consciousness, and within that violet light, the outline of enormous wings began to take shape.

—Looks like it finally noticed you.

Yog’s leisurely whisper echoed in his mind. Only then did Ian realize Yog was seeing the same vision. And this time, it wasn’t merely observing.

Though it was only a vision, Ian felt something crawling along him—like a serpent sliding upward. Unlike Yog’s true form, this presence felt immense, thick, and unnervingly long.

Beyond the blizzard, the violet wings continued to solidify.

Thump... Thump...

The resonance of the essence bead grew sharper. Then, atop the wings shrouded in darkness, six sharp points of light bloomed.

Akihatara....

Ian stared back at the lights. There was no hatred or rage in them—only wariness.

—Seems it considers you another archdemon, my friend.

Yog murmured, still coiled around Ian’s awareness.

That’s probably your fault.

—No matter how half-formed, an archdemon wouldn't run away before even fighting, right?

It was a concern Ian had never entertained, yet Yog sounded genuinely troubled.

That was when the six gazes fixed on Ian suddenly narrowed. The fully spread violet wings flared, blazing for a brief instant.

Screech!

A roar close to a psychic shockwave echoed out. Yog’s movement around Ian’s consciousness froze.

—Hmm?

Above the blazing wings, a long vertical line of violet was being drawn through the darkness beyond. Ian realized it was an eyelid only when it split open to either side, revealing a massive purple eye.

An ominous pupil, as if multiple burning rings had been crudely layered atop one another.

—Seems it didn’t come alone after all.