I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain-Chapter 593

Sanford, who had frozen for a moment, slowly raised his head. "Ha, haha… The Agent of the Saint’s schedule shouldn’t be held up because of people like us."

That familiar, sly yet servile smile spread across his face. "If that were to happen, I truly wouldn’t be able to hold my head high!"

You’re holding it up just fine now.

Just as Ian was about to snort, Sanford quickly added, "If you ever need to smuggle yourself again, please come find me. I’ll escort you free of charge."

The words were nothing but an empty promise. Sanford was half a drifter to begin with. Meeting him again wouldn’t be easy.

Still, Ian gave a nod. "I’ll remember that."

There was always the chance he’d need to set foot in the archipelago again. And he already had an idea of how to track down this one-eyed gambling addict.

"If you value your life, you’d best keep your head down here. At least until word comes that the chaos in the central region has settled."

Sanford’s brow furrowed slightly as he said, "Chaos in the central region?"

"Something like that."

"Is something happening?"

A warning from Ian was not something to be brushed aside. He had returned from beyond the Black Wall, after all.

"So just hold on to the money you have left. Don’t gamble it all away."

That was all Ian gave him. Sanford had already taken the bait. There was no need to tell this loose-lipped man about the situation beyond the Wall. Ignoring Sanford’s deepening frown, he looked over at Ohara, who was standing beside him.

"Agent of the Saint." Though her face was not just tired but deathly pale, Ohara managed a weak smile and bowed her head.

Ian’s gaze shifted to the expressionless waitress, Anna, who was supporting her.

Looking into her dry eyes, he said, "Take good care of her. Don’t let her die before she hears the good news."

Ohara’s heavily lidded eyes widened for a moment.

Anna, without avoiding Ian’s gaze, nodded. "Yes. I will."

With a slight nod, Ian looked forward and shook the reins. Moro, with a light snort, walked, and Edward, who had been watching them, started the carriage again as if on cue.

Clip— Clop—

Simon, sitting in his saddle with a haggard face, belatedly shook his reins as well. Ian could feel the gazes of Sanford, Ohara, and Anna on his back, but as always, he didn't look back.

Shing…

Instead, with his left hand, he drew the dagger now sheathed at his right hip. Its wavy blade had a bluish tint. It was the Dagger of Pale Lightning he had received from Ohara.

It was a unique grade item, unrepairable, but inflicted a level two Bleed on attack. The most important feature, of course, was the level three Shock skill, which consumed the wielder’s magic instead of a magic stone.

Meant for self-defense, no doubt, but…

Ian quietly let mana flow into it. The bluish gleam along the blade grew a shade brighter. Subtle though it was, the dagger was now charged with Shock. The electric force bound within the blade would only reveal itself the moment it struck something.

The next instant, Ian released the hilt—yet the dagger didn’t fall. Instead, it floated between his fingers.

As I thought. It holds.

A faint smile touched Ian’s lips. The blue light imbued in the blade hadn't dissipated. If used as a thrown weapon, it would be incredibly effective. Even if the target parried or blocked it, the numbing shock would still leave them reeling. The corners of his mouth curved upward as he reached for the hilt again.

Just then, the carriage’s left window slid open a crack.

"That innkeeper," said Lucia, leaning out.

Ian turned and caught her gaze fixed on the dagger in his hand.

"What was the commission?" she asked.

Ian leaned back slightly to look across at the other side of the carriage. He was checking on Brennen, who was lying opposite her. The middle-aged knight, having unwillingly stayed up all night, was fast asleep.

After glancing at Shahin, who was curled up beside him, Ian finally said, "The Gray Magic Tower."

"The Gray… Magic Tower?" Lucia’s eyes widened as if she had not expected that at all. There was no anger or hatred there—only surprise.

Feeling a strange sense of emotion at that fact, Ian added, "Yes. She asked me to make the mad spellcasters there pay for their sins."

"So she was from the Gray Magic Tower," Lucia said, as the carriage turned onto the main road.

Just then, Thesaya snuggled up close to her. "So that’s what happened yesterday. Impressive. To survive breaking an oath."

"You’re right. That explains why she looked like she was in so much pain." Lucia’s eyes widened as she finally let out a gasp.

Ian glanced her way. "Come to think of it, I guess the Saint of the Brazier never bound herself with such oaths."

"I’ve never asked, but I doubt any mage would have dared to present such a thing to a member of the royal family. They say the royal family’s power was at its peak back then."

At Lucia’s answer, Ian readily nodded. Back then, the magic towers hadn’t been as closed off as they were now. Perhaps the standards for binding an oath had been looser too.

"It was those tattoos, right? If I’d known, I would’ve taken a closer look. To think there was a way to survive breaking an oath…" said Thesaya.

Ian snorted. "You planning to break one yourself?"

"Not at all. Mine’s just a nondisclosure oath, and it’s not like I ever meant to teach anyone magic anyway. I’m just curious."

"As you saw, it wasn’t perfect." Ian shrugged.

He muttered to himself that it was probably a good thing he hadn't belonged to any magic tower in the game. If he had, he would have woken up bound by all sorts of oaths.

"So, where is it?" Lucia asked.

Ian replied nonchalantly, "Who knows?"

The truth was, he remembered all too well how close the Gray Magic Tower lay to the North. Perhaps he had passed by it in the past when he was taking Lucia to the Temple of the Brazier. In any case, if Lucia found out, she would surely insist on going.

"Are you going to keep it a secret even from me?" Lucia asked in a sad tone, even putting on a look like a rain-soaked puppy.

"Knowing alone puts you at risk." But Ian didn’t waver. He shifted his gaze instead to Thesaya.

"Besides, I’m not going to deal with it myself. I’ll be borrowing the hands of the Order."

"Ah! You mean you’ll send the Purifiers after them? That’s so very you, Ian, setting those eyesores on each other." Thesaya’s eyes lit up.

A backup plan, in truth.

Ian looked away. "For now, let’s focus on the problem in front of us."

By now, the carriage had left the city, bumping along an unpaved road. The way led through hills where dry grass and spindly trees swayed in the sea wind.

"I want to reach Orendel as quickly as possible," said Ian, his eyes on the bleak ridge that rose beyond it.

"Yes. I want that too." Lucia paused, then nodded, her expression clear of any lingering thoughts of the magic tower.

Just then, Ian’s head turned toward the roof of the carriage. A drawn-out yawn came from there. The dazed face of Simon, smacking his lips with tears in his eyes, swayed on the other side.

"This is no time for you to be spacing out," Thesaya said, having moved to the window on that side.

Startled, Simon blinked wide, then smiled down at her. "No matter how much of a demonic realm the frontier has become, what could happen?"

"Hm?"

"When the great heroes who defeated the archdemon of the deep are all gathered in one place."

Ian’s brow arched ever so slightly. Seeing Lucia’s expression, he suspected Thesaya, staring up at Simon, must be wearing the same look.

"I’m simply glad to serve as a witness to that truth—a messenger who will stand by and watch the deeds of the great heroes, including the Agent of the Saint, and carry the truth of it back to the central regions!"

Simon placed a hand on his chest and continued as if giving a speech.

"Ah, is that so?" said Thesaya, with a dry laugh.

Simon’s gaze shifted past the carriage roof to Ian, whose face had once again become expressionless.

"Yes, I’ll get to see the Agent of the Saint’s sword and shield again. If that sword could bring down even an archdemon, the frontier’s monsters don’t stand a chance."

"Unfortunately, I won’t be using that," Ian cut him off.

Simon’s head tilted a beat later. "You won’t be using it?"

"You must not have realized why I’m carrying this thing." Ian tapped the hilt of the fang greatsword that protruded over his shoulder.

The durability of his Truesilver Steel Sword had fallen to a dangerous level. Until he met the Platinum Dragon again, he had no intention of using it unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Ah… I see. You’ll be swinging that massive blade instead."

"In any case, I understand what you mean. I had no intention of making you fight anyway. If you want to be a witness that badly, then do it with a sense of mission." Ian nodded and looked Simon straight in the eye.

"A sense of… mission, you say?"

"I’m saying you shouldn’t look away, no matter how terrible things get." A faint smile curved Ian’s eyes.

Simon’s face finally hardened.

"What’s with that face? Don’t tell me you were just planning on talking without actually watching?" said Thesaya.

Simon’s head dropped. His gaze moved from Thesaya to Shahin, who shook his head, to Lucia’s now expressionless face.

Finally, the corner of his mouth curled upward. "O-Of course not! I will watch with a sense of mission, no matter how terrible the situation becomes!"

Ian’s eyes curved a little more. "I’ll be interested to see how long that resolve lasts."

***

The skies over the frontier were always overcast. Most days slipped by in a dim half-light, neither day nor night.

Swoosh—

Inside the carriage, Simon slumped in his seat, staring at the clouds outside. His gaze was as dull as the sky itself, worn down by more than two weeks on the road.

"Have a piece of jerky, Young Master." Shahin held a piece of jerky to his mouth.

Simon shook his head weakly, but the boy forcefully pushed the jerky into his mouth. "You have to eat. Your face has gotten so thin."

Simon finally moved his jaw mechanically. He still had no appetite, but he was at least able to eat.

For a time, even that had been impossible. He had witnessed horrors worse than anything he had ever dreamed: warped monsters twisted beyond recognition, a demonic realm that seemed to drag hell into the mortal world, humans who survived by devouring beasts only to become beasts themselves, and the squalid colonies where they gathered. And always, there was Ian’s figure cutting through them all.

For days, Simon hadn’t been able to touch food. Ian had even closed the window for him out of pity, but that did nothing to shut out the screams or the stench.

Just then, a liquor bottle appeared in front of Simon’s face.

Thesaya, who was sitting opposite him, smiled faintly as she shook it. "Drink."

Her face was calm as ever, save for a touch of grime. It wasn't just her; everyone in Ian’s group was the same. The terrible things that had worn Simon down to a husk were just another day for them.

"Thank you." Simon took the bottle and drank.

The liquor was harsh, burning down his throat, but it had the effect of clearing his head.

"Just hold on a little longer. We’re nearly there now," said Thesaya,

"It’s still hard to believe," Simon said, lowering the bottle with a frown.

As Shahin put another piece of jerky in his mouth, he held out the bottle. "That a kingdom still survives in a place like this."

"We talked about this a while ago. You weren’t listening at all, were you? Then again, you weren’t in any state to listen back then."

Thesaya accepted the bottle with a small smile, then passed it toward Lucia, who sat staring out the window.

"The South became like that because it was completely abandoned. It’s a useless region. But up here is different. It’s been pretty peaceful for the last few days, hasn’t it?"

"And the only reason we haven’t stopped by any towns is because we’re taking the fastest route," Lucia added calmly and brought the bottle to her lips.

Feeling a renewed sense of distance at her all-too-calm composure, Simon nodded bitterly. "I see."

"Well, I am curious too. Even if they carry out regular hunts, it must still be dangerous. I wonder how they live." Thesaya shrugged and raised the bottle Lucia had handed her to her lips before adding, "This is also my first time actually going into Orendel."

"That goes for me, too," Lucia added. Receiving Simon’s gaze, she shrugged. "When I lived here, I never left Agel Lan."

"Aha, I see." Simon blinked, only just noticing the faint glimmer in Lucia’s eyes. Guessing the emotion within them wasn't difficult.

"Your relatives are here, you said," added Simon.

"Unless something’s changed in the meantime, yes."

"You must be longing to see them."

Lucia smiled, as if the answer were obvious.

"Though, there might be someone else who’s most eager to see that redhead," Thesaya murmured slyly after taking another sip.

Simon, who had tilted his head, followed Thesaya’s gaze out the window. His withered eyes instantly filled with life as he stared at the emotionless profile of Ian, who was sitting on Moro’s saddle.

"Agent of the Saint, don’t tell me—"

"If you have the energy for useless talk, look ahead," Ian cut him off without a glance, jerking his chin forward. "We’re here."

Not only Simon, but everyone in the carriage, including Thesaya, widened their eyes. They exchanged glances only for a moment.

"Finally!"

Simon and Thesaya, at the same time, flung open the carriage doors and leaned out.