I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain-Chapter 601

"Long live His Majesty, the King!"

A shout from the crowd pierced through the carriage walls. A faint smile spread across Declan’s lips as he leaned back against his seat. Even on the third day of the festival, the city remained as lively as ever.

"If you’re enjoying it that much, why don’t you get out and walk?" Thesaya asked from her seat beside him.

Declan met her strangely expectant gaze, then simply smiled and shook his head. "I already met with them yesterday. Seeing me again now would only dull their excitement."

"Ah." Thesaya’s shoulders slumped as her face turned indifferent.

Across from them, Ian hid a smile as he raised his cup. To him, it seemed Declan’s true intention was to prevent the people's initial elation from fading.

"Besides, the Agent of the Saint must be tired as well," Declan added.

"I can’t say that you’re wrong, even as a pleasantry," Ian replied, the cup still at his lips.

Yesterday, Declan spent the day touring the inner and outer city, meeting the residents from noon onward. He casually sat with those gathered in the streets and occasionally even stepped into their homes. It must’ve been an unforgettable day for the residents, but for Ian, it was sheer exhaustion, especially since people kept asking him to hold their hands or offer blessings.

Guess there’s a reason they hand out skill points for this.

Thanks to the crowd, he’d had to summon that damn Radiant Light dozens of times. It was a small comfort that the Goddess hadn’t bestowed grace as it had with Shahin, but he knew it could happen at any moment. By the time Declan had concluded his tour in the northern shantytown, it was already the middle of the night.

"Don’t you think you’re overdoing it, though? I know you said you wouldn’t hold back, but at this rate, the royal storeroom’s going to run dry." Thesaya said, crossing one leg.

Her question was surprisingly sharp. Every major crossroads had tents and stalls set up, serving salted meat, roasted potatoes, and ale almost without limit. Although soldiers were posted to keep people from hoarding, it was impossible to stop them completely.

"We’ll have to tighten our belts for a while," Declan replied, nodding with his usual calm smile.

"But it shouldn’t be a serious problem. As I mentioned before, an Imperial caravan will be arriving soon, and our city now bears the blessing of the heavens. Our harvests will be even more plentiful."

"Your Majesty, you are surprisingly similar to the Agent of the Saint in some ways," Thesaya added, lightly smacking her lips.

Declan tilted his head and turned to her.

Meeting his gaze, Thesaya said, "Especially in how you’re no fun because you always have a plan. The part about being a little annoying, too."

Both Declan and Ian, who had been about to ask about the caravan, let out a chuckle.

So that’s what she thinks of me.

Ian brought the cup to his lips again, glancing at Thesaya. She’d switched places with Lucia today, insisting her sister needed rest. He’d assumed she was simply restless, but now it seemed she just wanted to tease the new king a little.

"What an honor. Perhaps that’s why I was drawn to the Agent of the Saint from the start."

Of course, things weren’t going exactly as she’d planned. Declan answered her smoothly, then turned to Ian.

"Well then, I will be in your care again today, Agent of the Saint. I promise there’ll be no further trouble for you after tomorrow."

"You’d better if you have a conscience," Ian replied with a shrug, holding out his empty cup.

Shahin, his temporary attendant, promptly leaned over and refilled it from a bottle. Declan watched the exchange and let out another chuckle.

"You truly are remarkable. I have seen my fair share of drinkers, but I doubt anyone could outdrink you. You never seem to get drunk, no matter how much you have."

"That’s the real tragedy…" Ian smacked his lips and looked at Declan. "You’re one to talk, Your Majesty. You’ve had quite a bit yourself. Holding up all right?"

Declan had drunk late into the night with the nobles, and yesterday, he hadn’t refused a single cup offered by the citizens. Anyone else would’ve passed out hours ago, but he’d held his own until the very end.

"..Now that you mention it," Declan said, blinking as if in sudden realization. "I was quite drunk yesterday, but I have no hangover at all. Normally, I would be suffering from a headache all morning, yet I feel perfectly fine."

"Well, it must be thanks to the blessing," Thesaya said as if it were obvious.

As Declan looked at her, she gestured toward Ian with her chin. "God’s apostles all recover quickly and never fall ill. The Agent of the Saint is clear proof of that, is he not?"

It’s just that my Stamina and Resistance are ridiculously high.

Declan nodded. "If that’s truly the case, I’m glad. Then at least I would not have to worry about dying early."

"Were you worried about that? How unexpected," Thesaya teased lightly.

Declan shrugged. "My mother was poisoned. And she was quite frail even before that."

"Ah…" Thesaya’s smile instantly turned awkward.

While Ian swallowed a laugh, Declan added, "In any case, that’s good news. I can drink without worry again today."

"I’d appreciate it if you could finish earlier than yesterday," Ian muttered, his brow twitching. It was what he had been meaning to say.

Declan chuckled and nodded. "I will do my best, Agent of the Saint."

Which means he won’t.

Ian smacked his lips as he raised his cup again. Just then, a small window-like opening on the wall between him and Shahin slid open.

"We have almost arrived, Your Majesty," said Patton, who sat beside the driver.

They must have passed through the castle gate and entered the eastern shantytown. Today, they planned to tour the area in a clockwise direction, starting from here.

"Understood." Declan nodded, beginning to adjust his crown and straighten his clothes. The growing murmur of voices outside suggested they were approaching the crossroads.

As the carriage slowed and turned, Declan looked at Ian. "Will you step out with me, or shall I go first?"

"You go first. I will follow shortly."

The carriage came to a halt while Declan smiled as if he had expected that answer.

"Don’t keep me waiting too long, Agent of the Saint," Declan said softly, stepping into the bright sunlight as Patton opened the door.

"Your Majesty!"

"Our king has arrived!"

"Long live His Majesty, the King!"

Thesaya winked and quickly followed him out as cheers erupted from outside, as if on cue. Clearly, the people had known of Declan’s visit in advance.

Then, as the noise settled, his voice carried over the crowd. "I have heard enough cheers, so let that be all. Raise your heads. Everyone, are you enjoying the feast?"

Well, here we go.

Ian listened to the ensuing cheers as he slowly sipped his drink. As always, that he could not get drunk was a quiet sorrow.

"Alright! Then give me a drink, too!" said Declan. The surroundings once again grew boisterous.

Ian drained his cup, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and held it out. Shahin, instead of refilling it, took the cup.

Ian shrugged. "Let’s get going, Shahin."

"Yes, Agent of the Saint."

With a faint smile, Shahin opened the carriage door. He stepped outside and held it open as Ian slowly followed. Warm sunlight enveloped him. He squinted slightly, then lifted his gaze toward the clear, endless blue above.

A sky like this feels more unnatural now.

Like the capital, Orendel had become a blessed land. Not even the Round Table Parliament could deny that fact.

"For our great King!"

"May he reign forever—"

Ian’s gaze drifted toward the backs of the cheering townsfolk and Declan, who stood before them with his cup raised high.

The thought that he might indeed be the heir chosen by the heavens crossed his mind once more. Whether the heavens were truly abandoning the Empire or merely keeping their options open, he couldn’t be sure.

Neither would be surprising.

Based on everything he had seen and heard, the Seven Goddesses seemed more like concepts brought into existence through faith. They needed believers to exist, which was likely why they were often denounced as fakes by the corrupted ones or the Apostles of the Heaven Defier.

And scoundrels like the Round Table Parliament exploit that.

Even so, the Seven Goddesses possessed consciousness of their own. They had used Ian as a channel to plant a new seed. After all, few would serve them as zealously as an ambitious king and the people of a frontier city.

However, it wasn’t as though Declan and his people were merely being used. The people gained hope, and Declan gained a solid foundation to make his ambitions a reality. The same was true for Ian. After all, he too now had another choice besides the Empire and the Crown Prince.

"Ahem." Thesaya let out a low cough.

She stood alone, holding a cup, a short distance behind Declan. Though Patton was only protecting Declan, the residents dared not approach her either.

Ian’s brow twitched, and drawn by the sound, Declan turned and smiled. "Ah, you’ve come out at last! Everyone, pay your respects to the Agent of the Saint!"

As Ian slowly approached, the residents all bowed their heads in unison.

"Victory and glory to the Agent of the Saint!"

"Long live the Agent of the Saint!"

I’m already tired.

Ian nodded, not breaking his stride.

Declan laughed heartily and turned back to the crowd. "Do not be afraid. He may seem cold, but he’s kind at heart. You’ve all heard the stories, haven’t you?"

"Of course, Your Majesty!" the residents replied, nodding eagerly.

At Declan’s gesture, a young boy holding a mug of beer quickly ran forward. Ian took the grimy wooden mug the boy offered and forced a smile.

"Thanks."

"You are welcome, Agent of the Saint." The boy bowed and then licked his lips.

Just as Ian tilted his head, a resident rushed up to him.

"Uh… Agent of the Saint!"

"What?" Ian asked, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at the man, whose age was difficult to guess due to his weathered features.

The man quickly lowered his gaze and added, "Could you possibly grant me a blessing?"

Ian sighed and jerked his chin. "Kneel."

"Y-Yes!"

As the man dropped to his knees, Ian’s gaze swept past him to the crowd. "This one gets it because he was quick. Until I finish this cup, no one else asks."

"Yes."

"Understood…"

Others who had clearly been waiting for their turn replied, unable to hide their disappointment.

Ian didn’t bat an eye. He intended to drink the beer very, very slowly—if possible, until Declan decided to move on.

"Glory to the Radiant Light," Ian murmured, resting a hand on the man’s head. No miracle followed, but the man’s shoulders trembled.

With a faint scoff, Ian withdrew his hand. "That’s it. Get up."

"Th-thank you! Thank you!" the man exclaimed, scrambling to his feet as if he’d been granted a heavenly favor. He retreated, proudly basking in the jealous stares of the other residents.

"Ha."

Ian clicked his tongue, but paused when a soft sound reached him. When he turned his head, his eyes narrowed slightly. Thesaya was watching him, her lips pressed together, her eyes trembling faintly as she tried to hold back laughter.

So that’s why she came along.

Just as Ian’s gaze turned cold with realization, she quickly composed her expression, nonchalantly looked away, and brought her cup to her lips.

"A very lucky fellow indeed," Declan added, and almost immediately, the lively noise around them resumed.

Ian’s gaze, which had been fixed on Thesaya’s profile, soon dropped lower. The boy who had brought him the mug was still standing in the same spot, fidgeting.

"What? You want me to pray for you, too?"

"Um, well, after you finish that drink…" the boy began hesitantly, glancing up at Ian. "Could you… possibly pray for my mother?"

Ian’s expression twisted slightly.

The boy immediately lowered his head again and added in a barely audible voice, "She’s… sick. I thought, maybe if you prayed for her…"

"That won’t cure her illness," Ian cut him off.

The boy’s lips clamped shut.

Ian stared down at the top of his head for a moment before he said, "Still, I’ll pray."

"Really?" the boy asked, his head snapping up.

"Like I said, a prayer won’t cure her illness," Ian added in a flat tone.

"That’s alright, Agent of the Saint!"

I knew something like this would happen.

Unlike the area inside the walls, the shantytown was essentially a slum. It would’ve been strange not to find someone sick here. Still, this might just be another step required to complete the quest.

Ian drained the beer in one go, tossed the mug aside, and said, "Lead the way."

"Yes!" The boy quickly turned around.

It was only then that Ian realized the surroundings had fallen silent again. Declan, as well as the gathered residents, was staring at him with glittering eyes.

Too annoyed to speak, Ian simply started walking. Shahin, carrying the bottle and a cup, followed close behind, with Thesaya at his side.

Voices rose from the crowd behind them.

"Uh, may we follow as well, Your Majesty?"

"Let us go. But do not forget the words of the Agent of the Saint. A heaven’s blessing is not granted so easily," Declan added and began to follow.

Before long, a group of residents had formed a small procession behind them.

Based on my experience, this is when a blessing happens….

Ian sighed, though it did not matter if nothing happened. The boy’s home was probably a pigsty anyway—he could just order his followers to clean it.

"A-Agent of the Saint!"

"Glory to the Radiant Light…"

Along the way, residents who saw Ian following the boy flinched and quickly bowed their heads. Ian passed them without a word, only for them to come face-to-face with Declan and the crowd trailing behind him.

"Your Majesty?"

"Are you coming along as well?"

"Hurry and join us! The Agent of the Saint is going to offer a prayer for Rishel!"

"What?"

The boy’s house stood at the very end of a narrow alley, far from the main crossroads. By the time they arrived, the crowd had grown so large that the street was completely packed.