I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain-Chapter 590

The city, shrouded in a dim sea fog, was just as filthy as he had expected. A stench of salt mixed with rot assaulted his nose the moment he stepped onto the docks.

Clip— Clop—

There were no inspections or searches. The group followed Sanford and his men into the city. Brennen, Ian, and Mukapa rode alongside the carriage, taking positions on the left, right, and rear. They had no trust in this city’s security, and it seemed the crew of the Black Wave, including Sanford, felt the same.

Sanford, at the head of the group, walked with a leisurely pace, his hand resting on the sword at his hip as if his arm weren't injured at all. It looked like he was taking his time, but he was actually matching his pace to the sailors who were supporting the wounded. Of course, the sailors with blades at their waists were acting as guards.

At the very back, Hashim, sharing the load of a metal lockbox with another sailor, clutched a drawn dagger, his face grim as he scanned their surroundings.

Residents were emerging from the muddy alleyways between the crude wooden buildings. Every one of them looked as if they had lived a life far from honest work, but Ian’s eyes swept over them without concern.

"It’s quieter than I thought. Maybe because it’s morning," said Thesaya from the slightly open carriage window. The pained-sounding breaths belonged to Simon, who was suffering from land sickness.

Watching the whispering residents with a gloomy expression, Ian replied, "Or maybe the healthy ones have all been dragged off to the archipelago."

The proportion of children, women, the elderly, and those with missing body parts was unnaturally high. There were many with missing fingers, or who were one-eyed, or whose noses had been cut off. Not a few were missing a hand or wore a crude prosthetic leg. Even the ships docked were mostly fishing boats.

"Aha, right. They must have been conscripted for the expedition," said Thesaya with a snort. Her face, briefly visible through the window, wore a cold sneer. "I should tell them they all became fish food."

"They might be watching because they’re curious about that very news," Ian replied indifferently.

Thesaya, after a short gasp, added, "Then I shouldn’t tell them. Let them wonder."

Ian snorted, and Sanford turned into a dreary alley that led deeper into the city. After walking for some time, he finally stopped in front of a two-story wooden building. It was the largest in the alley.

As the crew stopped along the outer wall, Sanford approached Ian. "Will you have the horses and wagon put in the stable? We’ll settle matters here in the meantime." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

"What matters do you need to settle at an inn?" Ian asked, pulling on the reins.

Sanford, who had stopped, scratched his cheek. "To rent out the whole place, we’ll need to clear out the other guests. And, well, I’ve got an old debt here."

"You’re not thinking of selling us out to clear your debt, are you?" Ian added.

Sanford flinched, then shook his head. "O-Of course not! I came here to pay my debt. And, of course, you’ll be able to get the information you want comfortably, sir. The owner of this place is from the Empire."

Looking up at Ian’s sunken eyes, Sanford forced a smile. "Would you rather just come in with us? I can introduce you right away."

"Fine." Ian finally nodded and looked at Mukapa.

The orc, who was on his pony, readily approached. Handing him Moro’s reins, Ian added, "Don’t tie this one up. Someone might try to rob the carriage or steal the horses."

"Yes," replied Mukapa.

As Moro snorted, Ian leaped from his saddle.

Sanford, who had turned his head and squeezed his one eye shut, said, "Hashim? Bring that and stand behind me."

"Yes, Captain."

As Hashim, holding the heavy metal lockbox in both hands, approached, Sanford put on a practiced smile and looked back at Ian. "Well then, shall we?"

Ian, his hood pulled low, nodded. Sanford turned, threw open the main doors with all his might, and stepped inside. A view of a spacious but incredibly filthy tavern spread out before them.

A woman who had been dozing, leaning against a table in the back, shot her head up.

"Oh, look who it is?" she said, her eyes narrowing as she stood up.

Ian’s eyes narrowed as well.

From the Empire, he said?

The woman’s appearance was anything but ordinary. She had tousled brown hair like a mane, light brown skin, and her arms and neck were covered in tattoos that looked like an ancient language.

"It’s been a while, Ohara," Sanford said, having stopped.

The woman, who was called Ohara, didn’t even glance at the crew members who were pouring in behind him.

"Sanford Plum. You’re finally here to pay your tab, I hope?" She smiled sharply.

From the kitchen behind her, a hulking man emerged, a wide scar carving his lip on the diagonal. He carried a cleaver big enough to butcher a boar. Next to him, a waitress with an expressionless face appeared, clutching a sharp meat hook.

"If not, one of us is going to die today," Ohara added in a raspy voice.

The corner of Ian’s mouth curled up slightly as he felt the faint wave of magic emanating from her.

Sanford raised his right hand and gestured to Hashim. "Unfortunately, no one’s dying today."

Hashim stepped up beside him and set down the lockbox. After undoing the latch and opening the lid, Sanford looked back at her.

"Because I’m going to pay it all back."

Ohara looked down at the gold and silver coins inside, then met Sanford’s eye again. "And the interest?"

"We’ll be staying here for half a year. How about we call it even with that?"

"…Half up front."

"Done. Clear out all the rooms. And the best room…" Sanford glanced at Ian. After a moment's thought, Ian held up his index and middle fingers.

"…leave two for them," said Sanford.

"Them? Aha, you brought passengers." Ohara’s gaze shifted to Ian.

She stared at him as if observing him before she said, "You heard him, Anna? Show the guests to their rooms."

The waitress with the meat hook walked out. "Follow me."

As she turned toward the stairs on the side of the wall, Sanford looked back at his crew. "Go on up and get settled. We’ll sort out the pay after we’ve had a nap."

The crew, as if they had been waiting, swarmed up the stairs. Sanford then bent down and pushed gold coins into a leather pouch, sighing repeatedly. In the meantime, Ohara approached with a leisurely stride, her eyes never leaving Ian.

"It seems you’ve been through some rough times crossing the sea."

"That’s right," Ian replied nonchalantly.

Sanford, having closed the lockbox, approached them. "You wouldn’t believe the things we’ve been through."

"I heard monsters are pouring out from beyond the broken Wall. You went through all that trouble for nothing. If you had just waited a little longer, the Black Fleet would’ve wiped them out," Ohara said with a sneer.

As Hashim, holding the lockbox, headed for the stairs, Sanford held out the money pouch to her and snorted. "Wipe them out? The Black Fleet’s gone. Wiped clean."

"What?" Ohara, who had snatched the pouch from him, asked a moment later.

Sanford shrugged. "It’s the truth. We’re the only ones who made it out of the inner sea alive."

"That’s impossible. They said they were mobilizing half the archipelago’s ships. And that they were calling in spellcasters, too," Ohara murmured, her brow furrowed, forgetting even to check the money in the pouch.

Sanford wore a bitter smile. "But it’s the truth. You should count yourself lucky. There won’t be a single ship coming into this port for a while."

"Did an archdemon really appear, like the islanders were saying?"

"Well…" Sanford glanced at Ian, then cleared his throat and continued. "Let’s talk about that later. For now, please answer the questions this knight here has for you. The more diligently you answer, the more detailed my story will be, so keep that in mind."

"Unfortunately," Ian said then, cutting in.

As Sanford looked back, Ian met Ohara’s light brown eyes and added, "I don’t trust the words of a spellcaster."

"A spellcaster? What do you mean…" Sanford tilted his head, then his gaze shifted to Ohara. "You were a mage?"

He looked as if he had never imagined such a thing.

A curious smile touched Ohara’s lips as she met Ian’s gaze. "You are very wise, sir."

"No… insane…. W-Wait a moment, sir." Sanford, who had been gaping, quickly shook his head and looked at Ian. "Sh-She’s not the type to make things up, at least. I can vouch for her with my name!"

It was obvious he had no wish to move to another inn. That would only mean losing money

Receiving Sanford’s intense gaze, Ohara nodded as if to confirm. "I don’t like spellcasters either. That’s why I left the tower and am holed up in a place like this."

"Not because you committed a crime that required you to?"

"The crimes are theirs. I only pointed them out. They tried to kill me for it." Her tone carried a quiet scorn.

Ian’s mouth twisted a little more. "So you’re hiding in another den of criminals instead."

"Because here, I can beat up any disagreeable bastards and throw them out whenever I please. That’s a big advantage."

To his own surprise, Ian found he agreed. With a short snort and a nod, he finally turned and sat down in a nearby chair.

Sanford let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you... Max? Bring a drink."

As the burly man disappeared into the kitchen without a word, Sanford looked down at Ohara, who was sitting opposite Ian. "After some rest, we’ll be holding funerals for the dead. Find us a place suitable for graves."

"I’ll do that. And it would be best if you didn’t go around blabbing about my secret. Unless you want your grave to be dug right next to it."

"Don’t worry. I’m not much of a blabbermouth, am I?" Sanford said with a grin.

He then looked at Ian. "Well then, I’ll be heading up first, sir. I’ll see you in the afternoon."

As Ian nodded, Sanford turned and practically fled up the stairs. A boisterous noise was already spreading from the upper floor. People who seemed to have been kicked out were grumbling as they descended the stairs. The only reason they weren't causing a scene was likely because the waitress was following them, meat hook in hand.

"Max? Bring wine instead of beer. The good stuff I’ve been saving." Ohara, who had shouted toward the kitchen, looked back at Ian.

Taking off his hood, Ian’s lips curled into a smile. "A gift to buy my silence?"

"I’d be grateful if you thought of it that way. To be honest, you don’t seem like the type to be loose-lipped. So, what story do you wish to hear? The route back to the Empire?" Ohara replied nonchalantly, crossing one leg.

"No, I’m going to Orendel. Tell me the fastest way to cross the border. Safer would be better."

"That’s unexpected. To there, and not the Empire. You don’t seem like the type to serve the Bastard King."

Just then, Max approached with a bottle of wine and a pewter cup on a tray. As he set them on the table, the door behind Ian opened.

"We’re going to need more wine," Ohara added, looking toward the door. A look of interest appeared in her eyes, likely because the group that was entering was anything but ordinary.

"Those who are staying, stay. Those who are resting, go on up. The waitress will show you the way," Ian said, looking back.

Thesaya and Lucia came toward the table, followed by Mukapa with the lockbox and Shahin supporting Edward. Brennen headed for the stairs. After a moment’s hesitation, Simon shrugged and joined the table as well.

"Quite a company you keep," Ohara murmured, watching them take their seats.

"You don’t look all that ordinary yourself," Thesaya said with a flick of her chin.

"Back to the point," Ian cut in.

Ohara nodded, stripping the wax seal from the wine as she replied, "I can tell you the quickest road. But safe?"

Pouring wine into Ian’s cup, she smiled sharply like a witch. "There is no such thing as a safe road. Not here, sir. This entire area is no different from monster territory."