I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 726

Archduke Olaf felt the resolve he had barely steadied begin to waver at the sight of that faint smile. His teeth ground together before he realized it.

“I will make my report, Your Grace,” Harald’s voice rang out.

Meeting Olaf’s gaze without a flicker of emotion, he pressed his right fist to his breastplate.

“The Calbrook Defense Force has returned after repelling the Archdemon of the Snowfields, Akihatara, along with countless minions, the avatar of an ancient god that descended upon their sacrifice, and the servants of the void.”

Only now learning the true identity of the monsters that had invaded the North, Olaf’s nostrils flared.

More than shock, what he felt was irritation. He had also realized that Ian Hope and the barbarian legion had once again achieved a feat worthy of legend.

Damn it....

His gaze drifted past Harald to the ranks behind him.

On either side of the brazier wagons, sacred flames flickered against the dim air. A handful of supply carts stood nearby.

The defense force and the barbarian legion were drawn up in disciplined formation. Priests in cloaks thrown over their armor guarded the wagons. That detestable cluster of spellcasters stood among them as well.

All of them stared up at him in silence, eyes bright and unyielding.

“Therefore, open the gates and grant the Guardians of the North a proper welcome. That is—” Harald paused to draw breath before finishing, “—the only way Your Grace may atone, even in part, for the mistakes you have made thus far.”

“Mistakes? Atonement?” Olaf echoed a beat later, frowning down at him. “How dare you... How dare you lay such accusations against me? It is not I who must atone, but you, General Harald!”

He raised his voice and pointed toward the assembled legion behind Harald. “You have not only cooperated with an armed force that entered the mainland illegally, but you have led them here!”

“We defended the North together! It was only natural—no, it was more than that!” Harald shouted back without hesitation.

He extended his right arm outward in emphasis. “Had the Demigod of the North not come with the Crimson Legion and the priesthood, the invasion could never have been stopped!”

His cloak flared with the motion, and Olaf’s eyes finally caught the thick bandages wrapped around Harald’s left shoulder. The arm beneath them was gone.

The price of this battle stood before him in plain view.

“Not only would the defense force have been annihilated, but the entire North would have been ravaged by the archdemon! You cannot call them criminals.”

Harald drew in a deep breath, never breaking eye contact.

“On the contrary, they must be called heroes. To treat heroes in this manner is what would truly defy reason, Your Grace.”

Olaf’s murderous glare sharpened. It was not only the words that provoked him. Harald’s tone carried the weight of a final chance. Worse still, there was genuine regret in his eyes.

Along the battlements on either side, the soldiers had gone silent. They were staring at him now. Beyond them stood General Torvien and his adjutant, both watching without concealment. The adjutant even nodded openly.

Olaf’s clenched fists trembled before he realized it.

“Even so... the fact remains that you violated my orders and the law by setting foot on the mainland.”

At last, Olaf ground out the words through clenched teeth.

“I cannot permit you to enter Travelga. However, in recognition of your merits, I will forgo punishment for the crimes committed thus far.”

His gaze swept across the barbarian warriors below, then came to rest beside Harald.

“Return to the snowfields at once with your barbarians, Margrave.”

Ian Hope stood there. He met Olaf’s stare without expression. “I refuse.”

“What did you say?” The reply was brief, yet it was enough to make Olaf’s nostrils flare again.

Cold spread through his limbs. His heart dropped hard against his ribs, then began to pound.

“You would defy my order?”

“I have yet to fulfill the purpose of my visit,” Ian replied calmly.

Olaf let out an involuntary scoff and glared down at him. “So you finally show your true colors, Margrave!”

The dread that had coiled in his chest for so long surged upward. The nightmare he had relived countless times now stood before him in flesh and blood.

Clenching his fists hard enough to grind bone against bone, he shouted, “Was the throne so tempting? Even if you kill me, you will not claim the North! You would be nothing but a usurper and traitor before the august—”

“You are mistaken.” Ian cut him off.

Olaf faltered for a split second as Ian continued in an even tone, “I have no interest in your throne. I merely intend to see you answer for your crimes.”

“The same nonsense again,” Olaf muttered, narrowing his eyes. “And what crime would you lay at my feet?”

“The crime of confining the barbarians to that barren land in my absence. The crime of staining the warriors’ pride with false accusations,” Ian answered without hesitation.

“The crime of blinding yourself with power and causing yet more northern soldiers and warriors to lose their lives.” His gaze shifted aside. “And the crime of leaving irreversible consequences upon the Saintess of the Brazier.”

At the end of his words, the Saintess lowered the hood that had concealed her face.

Sharp intakes of breath rose from along the walls. The Saintess’s revealed face was markedly different from what they remembered.

It was enough to leave Olaf momentarily speechless. His lips moved once beneath his beard before he forced out an exaggerated laugh.

“To heap all of that upon me... I may have erred in judgment, but every decision I made was for the sake of the North! How can one call a mistake a crime?”

“Then confirm it,” Ian replied without blinking. One hand settled lightly on the pommel at his waist. “You may confirm it yourself. If it is true, the heavens will prove it through my divine sword.”

Olaf’s face stiffened. “And it is you who grips the hilt of that divine sword, Ian Hope.”

He no longer concealed his rage or killing intent as he glared down at Ian. “Enough sophistry. Withdraw at once with your barbarians. Unless you wish to see other innocent men branded traitors because of your ambition-driven misjudgment.”

Another collective breath rose from the soldiers lining the walls. Their wide eyes darted between Olaf and the army below.

Olaf’s hostile gaze shifted toward the bastion.

Torvien, who had been watching with clenched teeth, drew his sword from his waist. “All units, aim.”

Only then did the soldiers atop the walls begin to move. One by one, they raised their crossbows and pointed them downward. Even from where he stood, Olaf could see their hands shaking.

“These... spineless cowards....”

It was enough to inflame him further.

As he turned on them, eyes twisting with fresh anger, a thunderous shout erupted from below.

“You wretches! How dare you level blades at such a person!”

Olaf swung his head toward the voice, his frown still etched deep. The voice was unfamiliar.

The previously unremarkable figures gathered behind Ian advanced.

Clack—clack—

A woman clad head to toe in a white hooded cloak sat astride a white horse. Before her strode a heavily armored, middle-aged knight, holding the reins as he advanced with firm steps.

Judging by his attire and beard, he was clearly an Imperial.

“Lower your weapons at once!”

The furious shout was his.

What was strange was that no one moved to stop them. Even the black horse bearing Ian sidestepped, clearing a path.

What in the world?

As Olaf’s gaze swept over the men and women following behind the white horse, the knight halted at the front and shouted again, “If you do not lower your weapons immediately, I will charge you with treason in the august name of His Imperial Majesty!”

“Treason?” Olaf’s frown deepened as he looked down at the knight. “You dare speak of treason before me?”

“I do, Archduke Olaf!” The middle-aged knight met his gaze without flinching. The sheer boldness of his bearing made Olaf’s brow twitch.

The knight clasped his hands behind his back and raised his chin.

“All of you, kneel and show proper respect!”

His voice rang with solemn authority.

Behind him, the defense forces and barbarian warriors sank to one knee in a ripple. Priests and mages followed suit.

However, that was not what made Olaf’s eyes widen.

The knight in full plate, who had remained behind Ian, dismounted and kneeled. The small, hooded woman did the same. Even Gelud and Harald swung down from their horses and dropped to one knee.

Only Ian Hope and the Saintess of the Brazier remained seated in their saddles.

Olaf blinked in confusion, as did the soldiers still aiming their crossbows.

The middle-aged knight’s voice continued, “Standing before you is a devout follower of Lu Solar, a believer in Lu Entre and Tir En, and the most brilliant star of the capital of the Empire.”

Standing with hands clasped behind his back, he proclaimed, “Master of the Dawn Palace, the one who gazes upon the crossroads. The second daughter of His Most August and Sovereign Imperial Majesty—Her Highness, Seras Astrea!”

Only then did Olaf’s eyes widen fully.

His stunned gaze shifted slowly to the woman upon the white horse as she lifted back her hood. Long, flowing brown hair spilled free, framing a pale face and clear blue eyes that seemed to shine even beneath the overcast sky.

Swoosh—

It was then that her hair changed, gold seeping from the tips upward. The blue of her eyes bled crimson from the center outward as if stained by spreading blood.

“This... this is madness...” Olaf’s lips moved uselessly beneath his thick beard.

Golden hair and red eyes. There was no denying it. They were proof beyond doubt that the woman before him carried the blood of the royal family.

“Only the Golden Demigod and the Saintess of the Brazier are worthy to meet Her Highness’s gaze.” The middle-aged knight’s voice rang out again.

He turned sharply toward the wall. “Any further disrespect will be punished as high treason! Kneel and render proper homage!”

“E-Eternal glory to the radiant Empire!”

It was Torvien’s adjutant who cried out first, collapsing to his knees. As though that shout had broken a spell, the soldiers atop the wall lowered their crossbows and kneeled one after another.

“Glory to the Empire!”

“Glory—”

They shouted at the top of their lungs, bowing their heads. Even Torvien struck his sword down and dropped to one knee.

“Eternal glory!”

Silence fell again soon after.

Olaf alone remained standing atop the wall. His gaze stayed fixed on Seras’s crimson eyes as she looked up at him.

How is this princess here?

He had heard her name before—the unseen hand who had elevated the Third Prince into the foremost candidate for Crown Prince. Rumor also had it that she shared a connection with Ian Hope.

Don’t tell me... is that why he went to the capital?

His breath grew ragged, and his eyes widened.

When Olaf turned, the knight met his gaze with cold eyes. “You are no exception. Ordinarily, it might be different, but at present, you are daring to look down upon Her Highness.”

“It's fine, Sir.” Before Olaf could react, Seras spoke calmly, lifting one hand slightly.

Phaden stepped back at once, bowing his head.

“I regret that we meet under such circumstances, Archduke.” Seras looked up at Olaf again. “Had you opened the gates from the start, we might have exchanged greetings in a far more pleasant atmosphere.”

Her tone was gentle, but the thorns within it were unmistakable.

Only then did Olaf realize why Harald had tried to give him a chance. There had been a bloodless path into Travelga from the beginning.

He bit down hard on his lower lip, then lowered his head. “I am ashamed, Your Highness.”

“I will graciously accept that apology. Otherwise, I would have to hold every person standing there accountable.” Her voice remained steady.

Struggling to steady his racing thoughts, Olaf said, “Since when have you—”

“—been in the North? From the very beginning. Thanks to that, I was able to witness and experience everything firsthand. Just like now.” Seras finished smoothly, smiling faintly.

Her soft voice shifted, gaining a subtle edge. “Of course, I also know precisely who must bear responsibility for all this discord.”

It was no different from a death sentence. If he refused or resisted now, he would truly be branded a traitor. Not only he, but his entire house could be ruined.

Olaf clenched his teeth and shut his eyes tight as Seras continued, “To the commander of Travelga’s defense forces, I, Seras Astrea, issue this order in my family’s name. Open the gates and receive the heroes of the North with proper honor.”

“We obey!” Torvien answered at once.

However, that was not why Olaf’s brow twitched as he stood there with his eyes closed.

A faint heat spread from the steel circlet upon his head. It was enough to make him realize what the only path left to preserve his honor might be.

“... Wait. Stop,” Olaf blurted out the words, fists clenched.

Torvien and his adjutant halted mid-step.

Olaf took a slow breath, then opened his eyes. “As a son of the North and descendant of the Transcendent, I, Olaf....”

He faltered. The words didn’t come easily. His clenched palm had grown slick with sweat.

He met Ian Hope’s black eyes for a moment, then he forced the words out, “In the sight of Karha, I challenge the authority of the Great Warrior.”