I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 123

"—So, after that, the reinforcements set out again. By now, they must be sweeping up the remnants near the barrier. It’s a pity we can't join them, but I have my own tasks here...."

Lucas's soft voice trailed off as Ian, leaning his head against the bathtub, lifted one hand above the water's surface.

Soon, the bathroom door opened. A weary-looking Ferma priest entered, staggering under the weight of a pot filled with hot water. He poured the water into Ian's tub, causing it to overflow onto the floor.

Without opening his eyes, Ian asked, "When will my payment arrive?"

"I've sent someone. I mentioned both your names, so it should be handled immediately," Ferma replied in a resigned tone.

Ian had entrusted him with ?collecting the gold coins and the new armor he was to receive, as a personal visit would have been too bothersome.

"Inform me as soon as it arrives. It's best to hurry. I won't be leaving until I get it."

"... Yes." Ferma nodded and turned to leave.

Watching him retreating, Lucas finally spoke up. "The priest has been through a lot these past few days. Since he was the one who pushed for the contract, he had to take on all the related church duties as well."

"Well, he brought it on himself."

"... Pardon?"

"Let's continue our conversation."

Ian interrupted, changing the subject.

"What happened to the fortress defenders?"

"As I mentioned, more than half of them returned alive. Unfortunately, a few became imbeciles... but that's not uncommon in war. It was thanks to the Great Platinum Dragon and the Dragon Slayer, you, Sir Ian, that we could save them."

Ian quietly listened to Lucas's words, which flowed like a lullaby. His explanation was very detailed. He explained how many in Travelga saw the corrupt dragon crossing the sky that night, which allowed the returning soldiers to be treated as heroes. And that it wasn't just the loose-lipped priests who spread the word that Ian had ridden the dragon.

"General Gelud testified to all the battle events. As a result, your and the Platinum Dragon’s achievements have been meticulously recorded in Northern history. They even plan to bring in a famous artist from the homeland. They’ll paint the great battle on the church ceiling, with the general overseeing it."

"Records...? Are they really going to paint a ceiling fresco?" Ian asked, frowning.

"Yes." Lucas smiled. "The legend of the North became a reality, and we ultimately triumphed, so it's only right to celebrate those mythical achievements. It will take some time to complete, but once it’s done, it will be displayed alongside the Corrupt Dragon's skull."

"Ha...."

So they're going to keep this in their history.

A dry laugh escaped Ian's lips. He had no grounds to object since the Northerners themselves wanted to paint it. Perhaps they had already got Archeas’s permission.

Archeas would have gladly agreed.

"General Gelud is eagerly awaiting the day he can see you again, Sir Ian."

I'll make sure we never meet again. Thinking about this, Ian changed the topic.

"What about the barbarian warriors?"

"While you were gravely ill, they gathered in front of the city walls every day. They practically equate you with Karha. Well, since you killed the dragon that fought Karha, it's not entirely incorrect...."

This is becoming absurd.

Swallowing a sigh, Ian asked, "Are they still doing that?"

"No. After confirming your recovery, we sent them back to their settlements. They should help with the fortress's reconstruction by now. They’ll hear about your awakening in a few days."

"... At least no one will bother me immediately."

Ian resolved once more to prepare to leave as soon as he stepped out of the church. Staying here any longer would mean drowning in a sea of attention and praise.

"The mercenaries' payments—I made a promise to them."

"I took care of everything. Everyone received their due without any omissions. Only you, Sir Ian, remain. The Archduke wants to personally thank you and present his gratitude, but...

"I think you already know my answer without me having to say it."

"Sir Ian, you truly have no interest in power or fame, despite being more honorable than anyone else."

"Honorable is not a word that describes me. I do not need it. I prefer money and spoils."

"I didn't expect you to say that even in a moment like this. Right now, if you desired, you could even become the supreme commander of the North."

"...?"

What is he talking about now?

Ian frowned, turning to look at Lucas, who continued nonchalantly.

"You are the Great Warrior of the North, a Dragon Slayer, and the Platinum Dragon's rider. Everyone, from the Archduke and the Northerners to the priests, would accept it without question. I would gladly follow you as well. Of course...."

Lucas’s lips curved into a faint smile. "I don't expect you to do so. I'm merely suggesting you consider it, at least while you remain in Travelga."

This guy is going to be a bother, too.

Ian, who had been watching him with sunken eyes, finally spoke. "I'll be leaving in a few days."

"... So suddenly?" Lucas's eyes widened.

When Ian nodded, Lucas let out a sigh.

"Why the rush... We’ve only just reunited. Why leave so soon?"

He is annoyingly sentimental.

Suppressing a smirk, Ian leisurely shrugged his shoulders. He already had a reason to stop Lucas from spouting more nonsense.

"The Platinum Dragon has asked something of me."

"Th-the Platinum Dragon?" Lucas momentarily held his breath.

Ian nodded. "I have a mission to carry out as his representative. Does that answer your question?"

"Of... course. If it’s a request from the Platinum Dragon, it must be followed. Should this remain confidential?"

"It doesn’t matter much, but I’d prefer it that way."

"I swear by the Radiant Goddess to keep it a secret. Even if I can’t help the Platinum Dragon's representative, I won’t be a hindrance."

Swearing, really?

Ian chuckled.

Lucas, who had been thoughtfully stroking his chin, spoke again. "However, leaving quietly won't be easy. Once you start preparing, everyone will find out. Many will try to stop you."

Ian's smile deepened. He looked at Lucas.

"So you're offering to help."

"Of course. I've received nothing but help from you. If I can repay even a little, I'll do anything. Don’t worry."

"A carriage will suffice. My two horses are already saddled."

"Leave those horses behind. I’ll provide you with the best warhorses, two of them. And I'll make sure the carriage is well-stocked with provisions."

"If you insist, I won't refuse."

Looks like I won’t have to lift a finger.

Ian rubbed his hands together in satisfaction.

Knights, though they might be cold-blooded killing machines, were incredibly loyal to those they respected or pledged allegiance to. Of course, this only applied to knights who were honorable and deeply religious.

Creak—

The door cracked. It was Ferma who stood in the doorway.

"Sir Ian, your items have arrived."

"Have them brought to my room. Priest, prepare to clean up here."

"... Yes." Ferma closed the door again.

Ian, thinking how he never felt guilty about working a priest to the bone, stood up. His bare body, scrubbed clean of old grime, revealed large and small scars, about half of which were new.

Must’ve been a mess, crashing into the ground, bones breaking through flesh.

As Ian calmly dried himself, he let out a bitter smile. To recover so fully from such a state, it's no wonder they regarded him as a living miracle.

"Come to think of it, I’ve never properly thanked you."

Lucas, who had been quietly watching, suddenly spoke.

When Ian turned to look at him, he bowed his head slightly and continued.

"Thank you, truly. Without you, the North would be filled with death and chaos by now. I'm embarrassed to even thank you. Despite your warning, I couldn’t properly defend the barrier."

... Not something I expected to hear in the bathroom, Ian thought, but replied nonchalantly.

"I just did my best to complete the mission. And the north has merely overcome one crisis."

"... You mean it’s still not time to relax." Lucas, momentarily tense, let out a sigh, his face as if awakened from a dream.

Ian dropped the towel and added. "The Black Wall is still there, isn’t it?"

"...!"

"So next time, make sure you are thoroughly prepared. Neither the Platinum Dragon nor I will be there."

"I will... keep that in mind," Lucas answered firmly, his eyes suddenly steely, as if receiving an oracle.

It looks like he won’t let his guard down a second time.

Ian averted his gaze and walked away.

"Please make the arrangements as quickly as possible." Ian stepped out.

With a creak, the swaying door closed again.

Lucas, who had been standing motionless, finally let out a sigh.

"The erosion of the Black Wall... is it starting again?"

Although Ian's words had no basis, they couldn't be ignored. After all, they came from the new hero of the North. Lucas, trembling slightly, clenched his fist so hard it seemed it might break, and left the bathroom. The glorious victory at the Bellium Fortress was no longer on his mind.

***

"Is there any discomfort, Sir Ian?" the man helping Ian don his armor asked courteously.

Ian clicked his tongue as he looked back at him. "Your way of speaking is what’s uncomfortable."

The one who brought the chest with Ian's reward was none other than the gate captain who guarded Travelga's north gate. He had checked and inspected the equipment, then came to the church with two soldiers.

The gate captain, feeling awkward, replied, "Even so, I can’t be informal with the hero of the North. Besides, I didn’t even take part in the Bellium battle."

"What difference does that make? I thought I’d get ready comfortably with a familiar face, but it’s no different thanks to you."

"What do you mean? I inspected your belongings for you."

The gate captain replied with a broad smile, his expression much more relaxed as he gestured.

"If there’s anything uncomfortable, let me know. I'll replace it right away."

"No need. You chose well." Ian replied, adjusting his gloves to fit perfectly.

Ian wore a chain mail made of imperial steel that covered him up to his groin. The breastplate, greaves, pauldrons, and other armor pieces on top of it also comprised rare imperial steel. The gate captain had brought only the best items, all well-maintained, with minimal loss of durability.

Now, even with a lot of plate armor, I don't feel any discomfort.

The increase in Ian’s Strength and Health from his time in the North had significantly transformed his physique. Now, it wouldn’t be strange if someone mistook him for a knight. Suppressing a bitter smile, Ian looked at the gate captain standing by the door.

"I’ll be leaving Travelga soon, probably within three days."

"...!"

"I’ll likely leave through the south gate, early morning or dawn, quietly, if possible. Can you help?"

"You don’t even need to ask."

The gate captain, who had momentarily tensed, smiled as if delighted.

"For your request, I'd do anything short of dying. Staying up a few nights is nothing."

"Go to Sir Lucas. Tell him I made the request; he’ll handle it."

"Don’t worry. I’ll report to him and then catch some sleep. Starting tomorrow morning, I'll guard the south gate without a break, so come anytime."

With a nod, the gate captain turned away.

This is why connections are important, Ian thought as he finished preparing and approached the desk. He looked at the Sword of Judgment.

"... I was glad I didn't have to worry about the sword breaking for a while."

Murmuring, Ian picked up the sword, and his eyes widened.

"Hmm...?" He could still sense a faint divinity within the broken blade. Checking the information window, he saw it still had durability left, albeit with a new name: the Broken Sword of Judgment. It could still use the Strike of Judgment, though with the penalty of reduced durability.

I didn’t plan to discard it, anyway...

He thought as he stored the Broken Sword of Judgment in his pocket dimension, replacing it with the Northern Warrior's Longsword at his waist.

The weight of the full armor subtly enveloped his body. Memories of the Bellium Fortress battle flashed through his mind—each one seemingly unreal.

Fighting a dragon. Without numerous buffs and Archeas, he would have died before even attempting. His fingertips trembled slightly, the sensation from that time lingering in his body.

"Ha...." Ian let out a bitter laugh.

Though he had boasted to Lucas, the truth was he had only overcome one hurdle. The world was still full of beings potentially as powerful or even stronger than Tahumrit. He couldn't always rely on luck and external help. A time would come when he'd have to face such monsters with his own abilities.

Will I be able to manage until the end? With this ruined character?

Ian laughed again. It was a meaningless question. If he didn’t want to die, he had to. Just as he always had, somehow.

Ian took a heavy purse from the chest, its weight reassuring him he wouldn’t need to worry about money for a while. Tossing and catching the purse, he placed it inside the pocket dimension. Then he pulled a robe over his armor, pulling the hood deep over his head. Without lingering, he turned to leave. It was time to return.

***

Creak—

The door of the Snowy Toad Inn opened. The bustling tavern fell silent within seconds.

"...." Ian, having entered and removed his hood, found the mercenaries and even the barmaids staring at him as if time had stopped. Thankfully, the silence didn’t last long.

"Captain...? Is that really you...?" Trude, who had been drinking, mumbled, spilling his ale.

Disgusting as ever.

Ian frowned and replied, "I'm not the captain anymore. The job’s done."

"By Lu Solar, Oh the Superhuman of the North...."

With a sigh, Trude and the other mercenaries began to kneel one by one. Ian's frown deepened.

Here we go again.

"Stop right there. Anyone who kneels and prays in front of me will walk on their knees for the rest of their life."