I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 370

Ian's eyes narrowed further. The method was more elaborate and ominous than he had expected.

Is this thing really trustworthy?

It wasn’t a technique mentioned in the status window. While Ian knew well that the status window wasn’t omniscient, he still hesitated.

—Such deep mistrust. I never lie to you, my friend. I merely choose not to speak at times.

The fragment whispered languidly, its words dripping with the logic of a classic con artist.

Ian’s mind flashed back to the creature in his dream—the one that conveniently failed to mention it intended to attach itself to his soul.

He exhaled a puff of smoke through a snort. “If there are any side effects you’ve chosen not to share, I’ll give you a chance to confess now.”

The fragment flicked its tongue.

—Hmm, nothing major. The mark will lose its effect if you’re too far apart, and your emotions may slightly influence it. Oh, and that little Apostle's blood—just a few drops, no more—will sustain the mark once applied.

So many minor things.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Lucia’s voice broke the silence.

“What’s Mr. Fragment saying?”

“Mr.? Really?” Ian snorted again before relaying the fragment’s words.

After listening, Lucia removed the glove from her left hand without a moment’s hesitation.

“That’s fine. Please go ahead,” said Lucia.

Ian frowned as he looked at her outstretched hand. “You want the mark on your hand?”

"Yes, right in the center." Even in the darkness, Ian could clearly see the countless scars slicing straight across its palm.

She’s far too reckless. Could this be Miguel’s influence?

Ian clicked his tongue as he drew a faint trace of magic, gazing at the fragment before him. As if it had been waiting, it parted its mouth wide and bit down on the center of the palm. A sluggish stream of blood spread around it.

—This is better than expected. Who knew it’d taste this good?

Without a word, Ian extended his palm forward. By now, such reactions no longer surprised him. The serpent’s beady eyes gleamed with a faint red light.

As soon as it released its mouth, Ian spoke. “It’ll sting a little.”

At the same time, he tilted his hand, which had been hovering above Lucia’s palm, to the side. The slightly thickened black serpent slid down his arm like flowing ink. A crimson line of Ian’s blood trailed from his hand to Lucia’s.

—Could you keep your hand still for a moment?

The fragment whispered, its mouth wide open once again, before sinking its teeth into the center of Lucia’s palm. Ian felt the sinister magic pulse through the serpent’s body, the subtle glow of its red eyes, and the magic burrowing into Lucia’s palm.

Whoosh...

At the same time, the thin line of blood connecting Ian’s hand to Lucia’s evaporated into the air. Almost simultaneously, the blood that had spread like ink in the center of Lucia’s palm coalesced into a small symbol.

Ian realized that a faint magical link now existed between his consciousness and Lucia’s. As the flickering magic subsided, Lucia blinked, seemingly sensing the same thing.

The fragment, its faintly glowing red eyes now dimmed, turned its head and spoke.

—Satisfied now, my friend?

The snake’s voice, which had regained vitality after drinking Ian’s blood, had settled back into a languid tone.

Ian withdrew his hand and replied. “I told you—I’m not your friend.”

—Then what should I call you? Master? Ian?

This time, Ian hesitated. Neither option sat well with him, yet no suitable alternative came to mind.

“Just don’t call me anything.”

—That’s a difficult request.

The fragment chuckled low, its tone mocking. Ian clicked his tongue in annoyance, but before he could respond, Lucia spoke quietly, breaking the silence.

“It’s fascinating. I didn’t expect it to speak in the common language.”

The snake’s gaze shifted to her.

—That’s only how you perceive it, little apostle.

Lucia froze, startled, as if she hadn’t expected a reply. Perhaps she was deliberating on how to deal with such a blasphemous being.

Well, so much for going to bed early.

Ian stubbed out the nearly burned cigarette and spoke. "Alright then, talk amongst yourselves."

I’ll be taking care of my own business.

He had no expectations that the fragmented creature would hold any critical answers. Besides, he could hear their conversation regardless, so he intended to finish the reorganization properly, which he had not completed earlier.

“I’m Lucifer Ash Riurel. Apostle of the Blazing Goddess and Flame of the Brazier.”

Ian’s lips curled into a faint smile.

Introducing herself, huh?

—Oh, unexpected. Interesting.

The fragment let out a low sigh, seemingly just as surprised. Its glowing red eyes shifted toward Lucia, whose face hid in the shadows.

—I am... Yog. A name I just created, the smallest fragment of one who cannot be named.

So now it had a name. Ian ignored the hollow introduction as he rummaged through the box, pulling out fur-lined clothing. He couldn’t help but long for the magic lantern he had left behind—it was exactly for moments like this.

“Pleasure to meet you, Yog,” Lucia replied calmly.

Yog let out a soft chuckle, flicking its tongue.

—The pleasure is mine. I have a feeling we’ll get along well. In that sense, may I call you Lucy?

“As much as you like. I hear you’re helping Sir Ian. Is that true?”

—Indeed. My duty—and my chain—is to ensure he survives.

"Exactly how?"

—Hmm, that's something I'm still figuring out.

Lucia blinked. "Still figuring it out?"

Yog chuckled as if amused.

—Yes. My knowledge and memories exist in fragments. They're extremely narrow and fragmented—so much so that I can’t even discern what I know and what I don’t. And that’s how it must be.

Ian, who had just set down his armor, didn’t even bother to scoff. He already knew the creature lacked memories, and he had long grown tired of such narrative theatrics.

Moving slightly further aside, he began removing his greaves as Lucia murmured, "Because that’s the only way you can exist."

—Clever. That’s right. Memories are essentially existence itself. If I kept the original’s memories, I would possess divinity from them alone. And that includes knowledge—especially truths that approach fundamental origins. But if I held divinity, I wouldn’t be able to exist like this.

Yog paused for a moment before adding.

—Though, unfortunately, I don’t know why that is.

"It’s likely because that’s the law of this world," Lucia replied, her voice calm as Yog turned its gaze on her.

She continued, "To gain divinity, one must steadily build the proper foundation or pay the price. It can deviate or twist, but it can’t be overturned. It seems you’re no exception to that rule."

—You know quite a lot, Lucy. Yes, I think you’re right.

They are unexpectedly getting along well.

Ian clicked his tongue indifferently as he donned his shirt, pants, and finally the white Phosphor Armor.

The two seemed to be thoroughly enjoying their conversation. From a modern perspective, it sounded like a collection of nonsense, nothing more.

"But it’s a shame," Lucia murmured softly. "There’s so much I’d like to ask, but it seems I won’t be getting the answers I want."

Yog, coiled completely in her palm, flicked its tongue lazily.

—Ask away. You’ve got nothing to lose. Who knows? I might remember something.

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"Alright. Yog, do you know how we can close this demonic realm?"

—Hmm.

After a moment of silence, Yog whispered.

—You either fulfill the purpose for which it was created or eliminate the source of the chaos.

Ian, who had just finished adjusting the finer details of his armor, froze in place as he was about to strap on his greaves. He expected neither a comprehensible response nor one that made sense.

At nearly the same time, Lucia, wide-eyed, blurted out. "The purpose for which it was created? Are you saying the Black Wall didn’t rise by chance?"

—I don’t know. That’s just what came to mind.

Yog’s whisper grew languid.

Lucia swallowed and added, "And by the source of the chaos, you mean the core of the demonic realm?"

—Probably. Maybe.

"Hmm, I see. Thank you. Just knowing there’s a method at all is incredibly meaningful." Lucia nodded as she spoke, her expression devoid of any disappointment, suggesting she truly meant it.

Yog, yawning lazily, parted its mouth.

—Well, unfortunately, we’ll have to continue this another time. Strangely enough, just answering your questions is exhausting.

Lucia nodded as if she fully expected this. "Alright. I enjoyed talking to you, Yog."

Ian, fastening his greaves again, gave a small flick of his hand. At that moment, Ian pulled Yog, who dissolved into black mist, into his grasp.

A low whisper followed.

—Oh, I didn’t know I could do that.

This thing really knows nothing.

Ian snorted and replied. "It’s an ability my familiar possesses."

—I see.

Yog coiled around Ian’s finger and fell silent. Ian quickly realized it had fallen asleep.

Completely drained after just this much?

Clicking his tongue, Ian pulled his hands away from his greaves and brushed off his soles, adding. "Don’t put too much trust in what it says."

Lucia, arms crossed, seemed lost in thought.

"It might twist its words or withhold information at any moment. Deception is in its very nature," said Ian.

"Yes, I’ll keep that in mind," Lucia replied with a nod, then continued, “But I think Yog is still incomplete. Its fragments of knowledge haven’t fully pieced together yet.”

That's what she was thinking about?

Ian smirked faintly as he shoved his feet into his fur-lined boots and said, "It’s only just been born. It might take time for its consciousness to stabilize."

Or maybe it needs experience points instead of time, Ian thought, briefly recalling the question-marked skills associated with it.

"Maybe it’s not just time but... hmm." Lucia nodded again, slipping back into her thoughts.

Take it easy and get some rest.

Though the thought crossed his mind, Ian chose not to comment. Instead, he reached into his pocket dimension. She was doing her best in her own way, and there was no need to dampen her efforts.

Instead, he reached into his pocket dimension and retrieved two swords, setting them down beside him—a stark white blade and a pitch-black one.

The first was the Truesilver Steel Longsword, while the second was the Black Sword of the Third Apostle.

Having kept the Truesilver Steel Longsword stored away, its Mantra circuits remained completely drained. It didn’t matter, though—he didn’t intend to use it unless absolutely necessary. Its durability had been more significantly depleted than he’d expected during the last battle. With no means to repair it, wasting his best weapon recklessly wasn’t an option.

So for now.

Ian began polishing the blade of the Truesilver Steel Longsword with a cloth, glancing at the black sword lying beside it.

That was now his primary weapon, no longer emitting the eerie cries it once did. For now, at least, it was a reliable choice. It wasn’t clear how long that would remain true, but in this place, he didn’t have to worry about drawing attention to himself.

Against monsters and magical beasts, it was as effective as a holy sword—if not more. And it didn’t matter if it got roughed up. More pressing, however, was the lack of a scabbard. Both swords were currently unsheathed.

He’d have to make do by crafting some crude sheaths with leather straps for now, but carrying them like this indefinitely wasn’t practical.

Ian’s head suddenly snapped to the side. A faint thud had echoed nearby.

Turning to Lucia, he let out a soft chuckle. She had slumped forward without him noticing, her head drooping. The sound he’d heard was her hand falling onto the blanket.

Ian set down the swords and cautiously approached Lucia. Gently, he eased her into a more comfortable position and laid her down.

Soft, steady breaths followed—easily the most peaceful sound he had heard all day.

Yeah. A good rest and she should recover almost completely.

Ian draped a wolf skin cloak over her, reflecting on how Lucia's body, even without divine intervention, would still function as the reconstructed form it had become. The same had been true for Nasser, who had been stripped of his divine favor.

For a moment, in the dim light, Lucia’s sleeping profile overlapped with the face of a red-haired knight he once knew. That face, however, soon morphed into the faces of others he knew, one after another.

There’s nothing I can do about it right now anyway.

Pulling back abruptly, Ian sat down and activated his Meditation skill, closing his eyes. He needed to clear his thoughts as quickly as possible.

***

—Wake up.

A low whisper stirred Ian’s consciousness.

His eyes shot open, immediately scanning for Lucia. Across from him, she was stirring, rustling as if the same whisper had reached her.

—It’s time to move.

Yog’s whisper continued. There was no need to ask why.

Rumble.

A faint vibration echoed through the cavern, sweeping over them.

Ian’s hands instinctively seized the two swords beside him, and he sprang to his feet in an instant, ready for whatever was coming.