I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain-Chapter 730

Rage surged up from deep within him, and his fist tightened on its own.

He had not entirely ruled out this possibility, but it still grated on him. This butcher truly knew nothing. Worse, it was obvious he had never even cared to know.

Yet Ian’s eyes twitched for a different reason.

As though responding to his emotions, that strange resonance spread through him again in rippling waves. It did not fade after reaching his skin; instead, it lingered, trembling faintly beneath the surface.

"Stop... thinking nonsense... and focus on that feeling... You idiot...." Karha’s voice, tinged with laughter, drifted through the air.

Beyond the thick forearm blocking him, those dark crimson eyes curved faintly. "If you don’t want... to embarrass yourself!"

The veins bulging along Karha’s arm writhed, and dark crimson divinity flared up like an inferno. At the same time, crushing heat and pressure bore down on Ian.

Crackle—

The pressure created by Karha’s divinity deepened, and the surrounding ground sank.

Is this bastard actually trying to kill me?

Barely remaining standing, Ian replayed Karha’s words in his mind. Even under the overwhelming pressure, the resonance coating him had not disappeared. If anything, it had grown clearer.

Crunch—

When he focused his awareness on it, the suffocating weight eased—if only slightly. It wasn’t difficult to realize that he was resisting Karha’s divinity.

Beyond the forearms locked together, Ian met the dark crimson gaze still fixed on him and slowly raised his left fist.

Crack!

Karha’s gaze curved again.

"Still... pathetic...."

With a low murmur, Karha mirrored him, lifting his own left fist just as slowly.

Are you playing with me?

Grinding his teeth hard enough to crack them, Ian swung his left fist forward.

Swoosh!

As if waiting for it, Karha’s fist shot toward Ian’s face.

Even with his Concentration pushed to its absolute limit, the incoming strike felt unnatural, as though time itself warped around it.

Crunch—

A golden arc and a dark crimson arc struck each other’s faces almost simultaneously.

When Karha’s fist connected, the first thing Ian felt was not pain.

Thud!

Time slowed to a crawl, nearly stopping altogether. The resonance engulfing him surged violently and burst outward.

Not only his senses, but his consciousness itself expanded along with the wave.

A split second later, his vision inverted into a crackling monochrome.

What the—

It was not just the colors that had changed.

The fist pressing against his face now appeared like a massive black flame. The face he had struck no longer resembled Olaf’s at all. It was a blazing form, something like fire, something like a colossal shadow.

Karha.

Only then did Ian realize he was perceiving something that could not be seen with ordinary sight.

It was not the same as the vision of chaos, nor the Third Eye. It felt closer to a fusion of both.

And that was not all.

Swoosh—

As the wave spread in an instant, he became aware simultaneously of those standing atop the fortress walls and those watching from afar, even the faint, indistinct waves emanating from them.

In the next moment, Ian’s eyes widened without realizing it. Fragmentary emotions that were not his own flowed into him—astonishment and fear, joy and exhilaration, even something like reverence.

"At least... you learn quickly...."

The voice came through the crackling distortion of his vision.

Ian’s awareness snapped forward as if wrenched into place. The black silhouette his fist had collided with still stood before him. At its core, pale, burning eyes stared back at him without wavering.

"Though you’re still far from it."

With that calm remark, Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Was this what you wanted to teach me?

Whether or not it reached Karha, he could not tell.

Boom, boom, boom!

In an instant, the flow of time snapped back into place, and a blinding explosion of two different colors swallowed his vision. The impact was enough to make his head spin.

Whoosh—

Even as he was blasted backward through the churning light, Ian couldn’t immediately shake off what had just occurred.

This was fundamentally unlike anything he had experienced before. An outside force hadn’t set it off—it was something he himself had brought forth.

Is that bastard seriously trying to turn me into a god?

Ian clenched his tingling left fist tightly. He had no intention of becoming a god. Still, unlike before, it felt as though he had finally landed a truly effective blow on Karha.

Swoosh—

Karha was being hurled in the opposite direction through the explosion.

Glancing down at the fireworks-like debris scattering around him, Ian beat his magic wings and twisted midair.

The ground was already rushing up to meet him.

Thud!

He bent his knees slightly and slid across the ground as though clawing into it, slowing himself down. Even as both legs and one hand tore up the earth, he kept his head raised, staring ahead.

Karha, flung away in a trail of dark crimson, was also twisting. And behind him, the gray-white fortress wall towered high.

Boom! Fwoosh—

Karha crashed into it in a crouch, dark crimson divinity spreading thickly from the point of impact. The wall shook, and the tremor traveled through the ground all the way to Ian.

"U-ugh!"

"Get down! Away from the wall!"

The soldiers atop the rampart cried out in alarm.

And yet the wall did not collapse or give way. Cracks alone spidered outward from the point where Karha had hit, like the impact site of a falling projectile.

Boom!

Kicking off the wall as if leaping, Karha arced through the air and landed on the ground. Sacred-tinged dust billowed thickly around him.

"Cough!"

As he pushed himself upright, Karha suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood. It hissed into vapor the moment it touched his divinity, yet he did not regain his balance at once.

Whether it was the aftereffect of Ian’s punch or Olaf’s body beginning to break under the strain of containing a fragment of a god, Ian could not tell.

Thud!

That was when Ian kicked off the ground and launched himself forward, his magic wings thrust back with all their might.

Whichever it is, I’ll confirm it myself.

He tightened both fists, where the resonance within him had gathered faintly.

Karha, having steadied his stance, turned toward him at that moment. With one corner of his mouth twisted upward, the bastard lifted one foot and slammed it down hard.

Boom, boom, boom!

The ground erupted upward in successive explosions. They were closing the distance in an instant, yet Ian neither dodged nor retreated.

Whoosh—

Instead, he bared his teeth and snapped his wings out once more.

The golden arcs traced by his wings and horns were swallowed by the explosions billowing upward, lost amid the churning clouds of dust.

Boom, boom, boom!

Even as the explosions swallowed him whole, Ian did not yield a single step. Anchoring his awareness to the resonance that cloaked him, he drove straight through the blasts.

If I can draw this out whenever I want, it’ll be useful in more ways than one.

The thought made him let out a faint, incredulous laugh. It did not feel like true divinity, but it was undeniably a new kind of power on par with it. He had truly stepped into the realm of a demigod.

Thud—

For now, all that mattered was that he was pushing through the explosions. Beyond them, Karha, cloaked in dark crimson divinity, was closing the distance.

"Huh?"

Karha let out a murmur of interest as he watched Ian approach.

He made no move to dodge or counter, only wearing a faint, amused smile.

You bastard, putting on airs.

His body was clearly nearing its limit. With a quiet snort, Ian drove his fist forward with everything he had.

The golden arc he carved smashed squarely into Karha’s detestable face.

Boom!

The resonance that began in his fist rang through him like a tolling bell. Caught in the golden blast born of draconic magic, Karha was hurled away like a cannon shell.

Carrying the punch through to its very end, Ian twisted and dropped back to the ground.

Thud, thud, thud—

Even then, he instinctively folded his magic wings halfway to shield himself.

An instant later, Karha slammed into the fortress wall again, this time slightly lower than before. Dark crimson divinity burst outward in concentric waves. Spiderweb cracks raced across the stone, and at their center, Karha lay embedded in the wall.

Clang... clink...

Shouts and screams erupted once more from atop the fortress, where the onlookers could no longer see clearly.

Ian stood motionless and spread his wings wide.

Whoosh—

The dust, heavy with lingering divinity, was swept away in a single breath. Ian did not even glance aside. With both fists clenched and golden eyes blazing, he stared fixedly at the wall.

Thud!

Karha had fallen through the rising cloud of dust. After the dull thud faded, a figure wreathed in dark crimson divinity slowly stepped out from the drifting haze.

It was, of course, Karha, the center of his face deeply caved in. In stark contrast to his ruined features, the dark crimson glow in his eyes burned as if nothing were wrong. After a moment, that blazing gaze curved faintly.

"That one... was usable...." The divinity-laced voice spread.

The next instant, Karha’s knees gave way as though his strings had been severed, and he crumpled to the ground. Even so, the dark crimson divinity cloaking him surged more violently than before.

Fwoosh!

The divinity burst outward, then shattered apart like an explosion. Ian felt the divine fragment lodged within Olaf vanish in that same instant.

Wow. Gone without a shred of hesitation. So that’s it—you’ve had your fun?

Clicking his tongue, Ian glanced down at his hand. The trembling resonance he had been feeling was fading along with it.

How do I draw it out again?

Ian’s gaze soon shifted forward again, toward the kneeling Olaf.

Crack... crack!

With his eyes rolled white, Olaf shrank as if deflating, convulsing violently.

"Khk—"

Blood burst simultaneously from his mouth and nose, and from his eyes and ears. The steel circlet upon his head still shimmered faintly with dark crimson divinity, yet it clearly offered him no protection.

"Please... forgive—"

Before he could even finish the muttered plea, Olaf vomited a thick mass of blood. He trembled once more before falling forward like a log.

Thump—

Dust rose pitifully into the air, and an even heavier silence settled over the battlefield. A string of quest completion windows appeared before Ian’s eyes immediately afterward.

So even the First Step of the Ascension quest is complete.

He recalled the quest that had appeared when he refused the throne of the Snowfields, then closed the window.

His eyes twitched when another quest followed at once.

[Path of the Ascendant.]

It was clearly a linked quest. The realization made one corner of his mouth twitch upward. Even so, he closed the window without bothering to read its contents.

Clink—

A strange metallic sound rang in his ears, like a coin skittering across a tabletop. Ian dipped his head slightly, and the curve of his lips deepened.

The steel circlet was rolling toward him.

The last remnants of dark crimson divinity flickered like an afterimage, then vanished without a trace.

Clang...

The circlet reached his feet and toppled onto its side with a clear metallic ring, settling upright. Not a single trace of divinity remained.

There was no need to comment on how deliberate it all felt.

Weren’t you pleased when I refused it last time?

A hollow chuckle escaped him, yet Ian made no move to pick up the circlet. He had no intention of ruling the North, and even less desire to dance to that butcher god’s tune.

"Oooooooo!"

A thunderous roar erupted from behind him at that moment.

"The demigod has triumphed!"

"Hail the Golden Demigod!"

The cheers spread like wildfire.

Ian frowned reflexively and turned around.

The legion soldiers, scattered moments ago, were now clearly visible as they hurried toward him.

"The demigod has overcome Karha’s trial!"

"Praise the demigod of the North!"

Barbarian warriors, legion soldiers, mercenaries, even the priests were shouting, their faces streaked with tears.

Ian merely smacked his lips weakly. He already knew what they had felt while watching that duel.

Of course, that was not all.

"My heavens... His Highness...."

"Karha..."

Gasps and hushed murmurs rippled along the fortress wall as well.

The soldiers who had flung themselves down behind the battlements were now cautiously peering over once more, their eyes shifting between Ian, the ravaged battlefield, and Olaf’s motionless body.

Ian let out a quiet sigh.

Fsssss...

His magic wings, horns, and the draconic magic coating him scattered like golden dust and faded away.

In an instant, the eyes of the Travelga garrison snapped toward him, and from somewhere behind, Mev’s thunderous shout rang out.

"Silence!"

The cheers that had been rising freely died down just as quickly.

"As you have seen, Archduke Olaf has been judged by Karha. He has paid for his sins with his life," said Ian, lifting his gaze to the battlements. His voice carried on a current of magic.

He faintly furrowed his brow as pain throbbed through him. It was clear he would be bedridden for at least several days.

"I will not press further charges against any of you."

At those added words, General Torvien atop the wall, along with his adjutant Mildred, both gave a faint, restrained twitch.

"So retrieve the archduke’s body with respect, and begin preparations to receive the Guardians of the North," Ian said calmly, sweeping his gaze over the soldiers who were sighing in relief or placing fists to their chests.

"We, too, will need time," Ian concluded.

The formation was in disarray after all. And judging by the expressions of the approaching legionnaires and commanders, their excitement had not yet cooled.

No matter what he said, they would be shouting in his ears for quite some time.

"We will obey!" Torvien’s voice rang out from atop the wall.

Not only Torvien and Mildred, but the other soldiers now stood at attention, gazing down at Ian with the utmost respect.

"Commander, come down and secure this relic."

Ian nudged the steel circlet lying abandoned on the ground with the tip of his foot, then glanced down at himself.

Clicking his tongue, he tore away the shredded remains of his uniform hanging off him like loose cords and added, "And bring me a new set of clothes while you’re at it."