I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 277

Chapter 277

The Count's hollow cheeks became more pronounced as he smiled at Ian’s gaze.

"I can't possibly host such distinguished guests in a place that has become a pile of ruins."

Of course. I expected him to say something like that.

Ian’s lips curled up slightly. The Count's offer was helpful to him in multiple ways, and Ian had nothing to lose from accepting it. The merchants might not want to owe the Count any more than they already did, but that wasn’t Ian’s concern. Still, he didn’t agree immediately.

"I appreciate the offer, but I’m hesitant to leave behind the victims and the carriages. I also don’t want to cause more commotion. I think tonight’s been disruptive enough as it is."

There were a few things Ian needed to clarify beforehand. The Count nodded as if to assure him there was no need for concern.

"I’ll have the soldiers clean up the scene. We’ll restrict access to outsiders, and when dawn comes, we’ll follow the proper procedures for the funerals. There will be no need for you to be troubled. I'll secure a private guest house just for you, with access limited to your attendants only. However..."

"I humbly request that you honor us with your presence at a banquet tomorrow night. If we fail to properly host someone as esteemed as yourself while you're visiting the city, we will surely be labeled as uncultured brutes with no regard for courtesy or propriety."

So, this is what it means to be a true noble in the capital.

Ian chuckled inwardly as the Count added, "Please come with me. I will prepare a warm bath and a meal for you immediately."

The Count gestured toward the door with both hands.

Ian glanced over at Elia, then finally stood from his seat, pretending to give in.

"Very well. I’ll accept your hospitality."

***

I had planned to spend some quiet time as a nameless mercenary... but now things have turned out the exact opposite. Is this really alright?

As Ian thought about it over his late breakfast, a small laugh escaped him. After waking up late, taking another warm bath prepared by the servants, and now dressed in clean clothes while chewing on bread and meat, he realized this wasn’t how he intended to handle things. It wasn’t exactly new, though—things rarely went according to plan. In fact, they usually didn’t.

Even the idea that the central region was such a peaceful place where the law was strictly enforced was different from Ian’s memory and expectations.

"Are you sure you’re okay with attending the dinner tonight? I hear not just the Count’s family, but also the city’s nobles and priests will all be there," Philip’s voice came from across the table.

He had already finished his meal and was in the process of strapping on pieces of armor over his thick, quilted clothes.

Ian, still chewing on his chicken, replied, "Where did you hear that?"

"On the way back from with the merchants last night."

Unlike Ian and Elia, Philip had stayed behind at the mansion to help with the aftermath.

Ian nodded and answered, "Well, a promise is a promise. If it feels like too much of a hassle, you can stay behind."

"My presence might help divert some attention away from you. But I am a bit concerned. The count seems like the kind of man who would want to keep you in the city as long as possible. He looked like a proper nobleman to me."

"You’ll be a noble yourself once you’re knighted, you know? Anyway, don’t worry. I’ll handle it." Ian chuckled, picking up his cup as he stood from the table.

Across the room, Ian’s eyes fell on Elia, who was sitting on a bearskin rug. She was meticulously cleaning Ian's gear with a clean cloth and some sort of oil.

"I can do that myself, you know," Ian remarked.

Elia shook her head. "No, if you want to get rid of the smell completely, I have to do it."

In truth, she was practically dismantling his equipment to clean every nook and cranny.

... Is this some kind of dwarven craftsmanship at work?

"Suit yourself, then." Ian shrugged and sat down on the sofa he had dragged near the window.

As he rinsed his mouth with wine, his gaze drifted over the cityscape outside. The Count's estate blended into the inner fortress, and if not for the difference in brick color, it could easily be mistaken as part of the castle. The main residence, where the Count lived, had a direct connection to the fortress. The guest house, where Ian and the merchant leaders were staying, merely shared a wall with it.

Their group had the entire top floor to themselves. Despite having enough rooms for everyone, they had all naturally ended up gathering and sleeping in the largest one. Elia had expressed no opposition to this plan, either.

"Is there anything else you’d like me to do?" Philip, now almost fully armored, asked.

Ian, still looking in the mansion's direction, replied, "They said the Alliance prepared a horse for us, right?"

"Yes, they have scheduled the joint funeral for noon, and after that, they'll complete the cleanup. Not only the horses but about half of their goods were also damaged. Once that’s taken care of, they’ll likely wrap up the remaining discussions."

Philip had taken it upon himself to lead the funeral service, likely in his role as the Apostle of Lu Solar.

"Once the funeral is over, tell Fael to come see me. We still have matters to discuss regarding the schedule and the request. You can handle the rest."

Since last night, Ian hadn’t had a proper conversation with Fael. The leaders of the trading company had arrived at the guest house much later than Ian and left again early in the morning. Ian hadn’t sought Fael either, figuring he’d give him some time to recover from the shock. However, he wasn’t planning on waiting forever—there was still business to settle.

"Understood. I’ll let him know as soon as I see him." Philip, testing the flexibility of his joints, slung his shield over his back. After putting on his helmet, he finally turned around.

Thanks to Elia’s thorough cleaning, the armor gleamed like new.

"Well then, I’ll be off. Are we leaving tomorrow?"

"Probably. Be ready."

"What kind of situation would that be?" Elia asked.

"The worst kind."

"..." Ian looked down at the bag, now containing only a small wooden box.

Reaching in, instead of pulling out the box, he grabbed a small metal object. It was another item taken from the curse caster’s robe. Unlike the paper, this had rolled deep into the bag’s interior. Elia, who had been left speechless by his earlier comment, naturally shifted her gaze to Ian’s hand.

"A badge?" she guessed.

"Probably." Ian turned the object over.

It had a sharp pin and clasp, making it easy to attach to a sleeve or collar. The surface, however, was smooth and polished with no visible markings. But Ian already knew how to reveal its true form.

"..."

Magic shimmered in Ian’s eyes as he channeled it into the badge. A faint light glowed on its surface, and Elia blinked.

"So it’s a hidden symbol."

"Exactly. Designed so only other mages can recognize it."

Ian tilted the badge toward Elia, showing her the revealed design: a long, narrow diamond shape, with intersecting lines extending from each corner.

"The Blue Magic Tower..." Elia sighed, recognizing the symbol, and her expression hardened as she continued, "So the dark mage was from the Blue Magic Tower."

"Either he was, or still is," Ian muttered as he gazed at the emblem on the badge again. It didn’t surprise him at all. He would know for sure after reading the mage’s journal.

"Just in case, do you know where any of the Magic Towers are located?"

"No, unfortunately. As you know, the locations of all the Magic Towers are completely hidden."

"And the entrances used by the mages are also unknown. If you don’t know, that’s fine." Ian nodded indifferently.

In the game, the only Magic Tower he ever entered was the Gray Magic Tower. Even then, they kicked him out almost immediately after discovering him. It was during that encounter that he learned the towers were built downward, not upward.

Of course, he still didn’t know the exact location of the Gray Tower—he had only managed to enter because the Nightmare of the Mage, a place within the Demonic Realm, was connected to it.

If Ian had mastered only one type of magic, he could have become a member of that magic tower, but he belonged nowhere. Now that it’s a reality, it would be fortunate if they didn’t come running to dissect his brain.

"At the very least, with this, I could pretend to be a blue mage."

At least until I get caught, Ian thought, tucking the badge into the pouch with the magic stones.

"...Now that I think about it, you can use multiple types of magic, right?" Elia muttered, almost in surprise.

Ian glanced at her briefly.

"Sounds like you’ve been told about that."

"Yes, I was told you carry many secrets and that I shouldn’t ask about them. Not only would you refuse to answer, but you wouldn’t appreciate it either."

"Well, you’ve done your homework."

Or maybe the Platinum Dragon just talked about me a lot.

Ian shrugged and pulled out the wooden box. It was the last item in the bag. Its surface contained an old spell circuit carved into it and it had a slightly larger size than his palm. Although no light emanated from it, Ian had seen something like this before—a sealing box used to contain dark relics, like the one holding the mark of the void.

He didn’t seem capable of wielding something like a dark relic.

Puzzled, Ian unlocked the clasp and opened the lid. His eyes narrowed as he saw what was inside.

"This is..."

Inside was a glass orb, slightly larger than a walnut. Though Ian wasn't sure if it was glass, he cared little about the material. What caught his attention was the small, pitch-black chunk inside, about the size of the tip of his thumb.

It looked fragile, like a piece of charcoal that could crumble at any moment. However, it wasn’t charcoal, and it was floating slightly within the orb. Fine dust-like particles swirled around it, likely stirred by the movement of the box.

Swoosh...

The moment Ian’s fingers touched the orb, a faint resonance echoed within him, as if the fragment of chaos was reacting. His eyes narrowed again.

"Ian...?" Sensing something off, Elia cautiously spoke. "Should I... close my eyes?"

"... No need."

After all, it wasn’t the object that would affect the mind just by looking at it. Ian turned the box toward her.

"This is...?" Elia’s brows furrowed as she stared at the orb.

Ian murmured, "I thought you might recognize it immediately. But I guess not."

"...?" Elia tilted her head in confusion, but only for a moment. Soon, her eyes widened slowly, as if they might tear open.

"No way... It can’t be... this is...?" Her lips parted in disbelief as she looked into Ian’s eyes.

"Is this... a fragment of the Black Wall?"