I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 723
Snort—
Moro exhaled sharply and quickened its pace. It surged forward, passing Phaden, who startled and stepped aside in haste.
"Agent of the Saint?"
"Follow slowly," said Ian as he glanced back at the flustered Phaden, then faced forward again.
"Huh?"
"I-It’s coming! Move, quickly!"
A commotion had already broken out ahead. The spellcasters, eyes wide, scrambled to either side.
Moro was approaching at a pace that made it look ready to charge at any moment. The beast lowered its head slightly, thrusting forward the sharp, blade-like horn rising from its brow.
"H-Hey—"
"Damn it!"
Of course, it did not ram into them. Moro strode straight through the cluster of spellcasters, who scattered and nearly tripped over one another in panic.
"Haha! What’s with all the fuss?"
"They weren’t this shy during the fight!"
The barbarian warriors burst into laughter. Ian, however, no longer spared the mages a glance.
Fwoosh...
His gaze had shifted ahead, sweeping over the brazier wagon where sacred flames flickered. As the wagon drew nearer, Moro slowed its pace.
Rather than urging it on, Ian looked toward the cargo bed.
Clip-clop, clip-clop—
Where firewood had once been stacked, thick layers of fur pelts were spread out. Cherwyn, the Saintess of the Brazier, lay upon them, wrapped in her hooded cloak and covered with a sleeping bag.
She’s asleep.
She was still recovering. It would take more time before her strength fully returned.
The priests keeping watch at her side met Ian’s gaze and gave a reassuring nod.
Snort...
At that moment, Moro lifted its head with a low exhale. There was no need to wonder why.
Beside Miguel in the driver’s seat, Nila came into view, pulling the wagon. Nila did not so much as glance at Moro, yet it no longer turned its head away or growled as before.
"Brother."
"Take care of her. Make sure the Saintess arrives safely."
"We will. Nila’s handling it just fine, so there’s no need to worry," Miguel replied with a grin that showed his yellowed teeth.
Ian nodded and shifted his gaze forward once more. Ahead in the procession, a roofed carriage came into view.
Near the front rode two generals side by side.
They’re not fully recovered either.
Yet Harald, seated in the saddle and speaking with Gelud, held himself perfectly upright. Even handling the reins with one hand, he looked completely at ease.
"You’ve come, Agent of the Saint."
A calm voice called out from the carriage as it drew near. Alex, Phaden’s squire, leaned out from the driver’s seat.
Ian turned toward him, tapped his temple lightly with a finger, and smiled. "Looks good on you."
Alex had removed his bandages. A long scar now ran diagonally from his forehead down past one eye.
"Thank you." A faint curve touched Alex’s lips. He clearly thought so as well. It wasn’t only the barbarians who treated scars like medals.
Ian snorted softly and tossed him the bottle he had been holding. "I’m going to see the young lady. Moro will follow on its own, so don’t worry about it."
"Yes, Agent of the Saint," Alex answered at once.
After glancing at Phaden, who was hurrying up from behind, he straightened in his seat and lifted the bottle to his lips.
He’s already shed some of that capital polish.
Ian’s gaze shifted naturally to the carriage.
Though marked in places as if clawed by something sharp, it still looked sturdy. The layered protective spell circuits woven into its frame no doubt played their part.
How much would something like this cost?
Ian reached out and knocked on the closed door.
"You know the rules. Don’t cause trouble," He did not forget to add that for Moro’s sake.
The door opened at once, as if waiting for him, revealing Seras with altered hair and eye color.
"You’re here. Please come in, Agent of the Saint."
She opened the door wide with a faintly stiff smile. Asme sat beside her.
Across from her sat a silver-haired elder fairy, hooded cloak draped over her shoulders.
"I was wondering where you’d gone." Ian swung down from the saddle and landed lightly inside the carriage.
Thesaya tilted the glass in her hand and smiled innocently. "I had a feeling something interesting and important would be discussed."
Ian dropped into the seat beside her with a quiet scoff. "Are you sure Her Highness didn’t give you a word in advance?"
"Well, if I’m being honest, I had intended to excuse myself." Thesaya exchanged a glance with Seras as the door closed, then gave a small nod. "I’m simply grateful that Her Highness trusts me this much."
"We’ve crossed life and death together. How could I not?" Seras replied with a matching smile before turning to Ian. "And you are a dear friend who has traveled long with the Agent of the Saint."
"That hardly guarantees trust," Ian muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly.
The two sharpest minds here had grown noticeably closer. He could not help but wonder what conversations they had shared inside this well-insulated carriage.
"Surely you wouldn’t say you don’t trust me, Agent of the Saint." Thesaya’s teasing smile made it difficult to respond harshly.
Ian clicked his tongue once and accepted the glass Asme offered. "Let’s get to the point."
"Yes, Agent of the Saint." Seras’s smile tightened briefly.
She lifted her glass and took a measured sip before speaking again, her expression composed. "A few hours ago, we received word from the capital."
Ian nodded for her to continue and raised his cup to his lips. It was Imperial wine.
"To state the conclusion first, my uncle has crossed the front lines."
A sharp intake of breath sounded beside him. It was Thesaya, the rim of her cup still near her lips. Her widened eyes made it clear this was the first she had heard of it as well.
Ian lowered his glass without any change in expression and met Seras’s eyes. He knew she wasn’t finished.
As expected, her lips moved again. "With his legion."
Thesaya’s eyes widened, and her gaze instinctively shifted to Ian.
"How he crossed matters more than the fact that he did," said Ian.
"Of course." Seras lowered her glass and ran her tongue lightly across her lips before continuing. "It seems it happened just as you predicted, Agent of the Saint."
"As I thought." A faint smile tugged at one corner of Ian’s mouth. "He crossed the Wall without bloodshed."
"Yes. That’s what we were told."
Thesaya’s eyes widened even further. She still held her glass to her lips, half her face hidden behind it.
In any case, her reaction kept the atmosphere from becoming too heavy. Amused by her intense stare, Seras smiled softly and continued, gently tracing the rim of her glass.
"Not long after he vanished from sight, the darkness near Worsbell Fortress lifted. In its place, a deep blue-black darkness spread along the inner side of the barrier."
She glanced at Ian, then at Thesaya, who was listening in silence.
"The commander grew suspicious and dispatched scouts. They were captured by an unidentified legion assembled within the darkness."
Ian lifted his glass again and gave a small nod for her to continue.
"And there, my uncle revealed himself. He released the scouts and told them to carry a message back to the fortress. He said he had used a small trick because he wished to set foot on his homeland even a day sooner, and that the defense forces bore no responsibility. He instructed them to report everything they had seen and heard without omission."
"Good heavens..." Thesaya breathed out at last.
A deeper smile spread across Ian’s lips as he lowered his glass. It was exactly the sort of thing Hyked would say.
Resting his glass on the armrest, he asked, "When did this happen?"
"I can’t say for certain, but about a week ago."
Seras swallowed and continued, "Father did not announce it immediately after receiving the report. When the news finally spread, the capital was thrown into chaos. That is why the message was delayed."
Ian narrowed his eyes and nodded slowly. It occurred to him that the timing of Hyked’s crossing and his stand against the invasion might not have been so far apart.
"So he truly made himself the bait to buy time for his legion to pass through a hidden route." Thesaya’s voice carried open admiration.
When Seras looked at her, Thesaya tilted her glass lightly. "Remarkably bold. And to absolve the frontline defense of responsibility. Just as I heard, he is extraordinary in many ways."
"You already knew the Agent of the Saint’s conjecture, Elder?" Seras blinked.
Thesaya stiffened for a moment, then turned her gaze aside with an awkward smile. "Of course. Agent of the Saint and I share no secrets."
She couldn’t very well admit she had eavesdropped on their conversation.
Ian let out a quiet snort. "Does the capital know how he crossed?"
"The scholars appear to have reached similar conclusions. In truth, there are not many plausible explanations."
"And His Majesty? How did he respond?"
Seras hesitated. "He left only the minimum forces in place and issued a summons to all legions along the Eastern Front. He ordered them to confirm my uncle’s forces and encircle them on a large scale."
She took another sip of wine and exhaled softly. "I was told he also commanded them not to strike first. But that has not been fully confirmed."
It was likely true. The Emperor would never wish to lose justification or legitimacy by acting first.
"And the Great Church?" Thesaya interjected casually.
The situation was grave in every sense, yet her eyes shone with interest.
Seras licked her lips before answering, "The only confirmed fact is that His Holiness responded to my father’s official letter. There are rumors that the Purification Squad and inquisitors have been dispatched."
She shrugged one shoulder. "But nothing has been verified."
"As expected. They still intend to absorb His Highness’s forces." Thesaya let out a cold snort.
The Church would first draw Hyked’s forces into its grasp, then eliminate them gradually. To someone who despised the Church, it was despicable.
"The civil war will drag on, then," Ian murmured at last, lifting his glass once more.
The Empire’s strength was now effectively split in two.
Confusion was inevitable. And in that upheaval, Hyked would find the opportunity to claim the justification for himself.
Under the steady gazes of Seras and Thesaya, Ian said, "There’s no need to dig too deeply into the Church’s movements."
Ian lowered the cup from his lips and spoke. Setting it down on the armrest, he absently brushed his left middle finger with his thumb.
"When the time is right, all of it will be revealed."
"Yes, Agent of the Saint." Seras nodded, though she leaned forward slightly, her eyes intent. "Then... in your view, how will my uncle move next?"







