I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 284

Chapter 284

Ian, having finished the remaining wine in his glass, chuckled. "Though you might have ended up competing with your other siblings. They say rumors travel faster than horses."

"That’s an amusing saying. And true, too. Thanks to it, I was able to meet you earlier than expected. It’s now clear that Lu Solar guided us."

Seras smiled, her face flushed, and then added, "I’ve taken up too much of your time. If it’s alright with you, shall we wrap up for today and meet again tomorrow? It’d be a good chance for us to bond as we’ll be working together."

It was a welcome suggestion. The group had plenty to discuss among themselves. Of course, the same would likely be true for her side as well. Ian shrugged and glanced sideways.

"Tomorrow, I have a banquet with the Ark Caravan. It’s a farewell gathering prepared by their leader, so I can’t skip it."

"...!"

As Fael's eyes widened, Seras turned to look at him and added, "In that case, may we join as well? I can’t attend as a princess, but if it’s acceptable..."

"Of course...!"

While Asme stared intently at Seras, Fael nearly bowed to the ground. "It would be the honor of a lifetime to have your presence. And do not worry about my discretion. For a merchant, trust is as vital as life itself. I will ensure you are addressed only as a lady."

"I’m glad to hear that. And I’ll get to enjoy this delicious wine again. Well then, Sir Ian, I shall see you tomorrow."

Seras stood and stepped beside the table, bowing politely. Despite her formal expression, her body swayed slightly from side to side.

... She’s definitely drunk.

"Don’t send the caravan’s people away. If they’re too much of a bother, just have them sent upstairs instead."

At his words, Seras whipped around to look at Phaden and Asme.

"You heard him, right? I told you not to overdo it. Make sure everyone keeps that in mind."

"Understood. We will do as you say." Phaden, responding with a nod, followed Seras along with Asme.

Unlike earlier, they didn’t forget to bow their heads toward Ian. Even the stern-looking squire followed suit.

"Oh, and one more thing." As Seras was about to leave the dining room, she paused.

Ian glanced back at her; her gaze was now fixed on Philip.

"My offer still stands, even though you declined it, Sir Philip. Think it over as we head to the capital. I really do like you."

"... Understood."

Philip awkwardly responded. Seras, wearing a faint smile, then turned her eyes back to Ian.

"And you, too, Agent of the Saint, no—Sir Ian."

"...?"

"In the end, I’ll have to marry someone I don’t want to, anyway. So, if that’s the case, I might as well—"

Before she could finish, Seras was already out the door, practically dragged away by Asme.

"What...."

A faint smile spread across Ian's lips. She still hasn’t given up. Maybe she’s the type who desires more of what she can’t have.

A thud followed. It was the sound of Fael collapsing to the ground.

"Lu Solar, my goodness... I can't believe this day has come..."

Ian's dry laughter deepened. Fael clearly had no interest in his new commission right now.

"Could you fetch the alcohol we entrusted to the guards? It seems like we need to have a conversation among ourselves now."

"Of course. Sir! I'll fetch it immediately!"

"Not immediately, a bit slower."

"Yes. I'll bring it a bit slower...!"

Fael practically crawled out on all fours. He now seemed ready to follow Ian’s every whim, even if it meant pretending to die. Naturally, this was expected. Thanks to Ian, Fael not only secured a new business partner in the capital but he also got acquainted with the princess.

I should ask him to find and deliver some rare, high-grade magical gear...

I guess I could say it was a short but eventful stay, though the plan had completely gone off track.

Ian rested his chin on his hand, staring out the window as he took a swig straight from a bottle of Southern spirits. Their departure had been delayed as well. It was well past noon by the time they finally left the city. The remnants of the previous night's banquet lingered in the air—everyone, except Ian's group, had spent the morning groaning, recovering from their food and drink-induced stupor.

Fael, who had been half passed out, barely had time to get ready for the departure—he didn’t even have a chance to have a proper conversation with Ian. In contrast, Ian’s group had been able to prepare thoroughly and at their leisure.

"...Is it really that uncomfortable?" Hearing the constant rustling beside him, Ian turned and asked.

Elia, who had been fidgeting all over her body, even having taken off her cloak, nodded. "It's uncomfortable. Feels stifling."

She was wearing protective gear over her clothes—well-tanned leather with thin, intricately crafted chains sewn into it. These were custom-made pieces that had arrived that morning. Philip’s assessment of Fael’s taste had been accurate. Each item had an information window, and though they had no additional options, they were of rare grade. Of course, unlike in the game, Ian couldn’t wear any of them.

In any case, no matter how well-fitted the gear had been, it was never as comfortable as wearing casual clothes.

"Loosen the fasteners a little. Don’t take them off entirely. You’ll need time to get used to it."

"Yes. I’ll do that."

"Once you get used to it, that discomfort will eventually feel reassuring."

Elia nodded and started fiddling with the joints of her gear. Ian watched her for a moment.

With the sudden appearance of the princess prompting their immediate departure, Elia’s protective gear had become somewhat unnecessary. Still, Ian didn’t feel like it was a waste of money.

... Well, this one’s bound to frequent the black market. She’ll probably make good use of it then.

Ian shrugged and brought the bottle back to his lips, glancing out the window once more. A cool, damp breeze drifted into the carriage. Vast open plains spread out before them, with dark clouds looming endlessly across the sky. It seemed like a thunderstorm could break at any moment—a familiar sight before entering the central region.

By now, they must’ve all arrived at their destination already.

Thoughts of those he had parted ways with naturally crossed his mind.

Thoughts of those he had parted ways with naturally crossed his mind. Charlotte and Thesaya had likely gone their separate ways by now. Charlotte was probably locked in a fierce battle with the berserkers of her clan, while Thesaya might be plotting to assert dominance over fairy society.

Neither of their futures would be smooth, but he no longer felt the same concern as before. There was a vague sense of trust in them now, something he hadn’t felt before, a belief that they would manage somehow.

What worried him more was Mev. She seemed determined to return to the frontier. Ian could only hope that Lucia and Miguel had persuaded her otherwise. If she stayed at the Temple of the Brazier, perhaps they might meet again sooner than expected.

... Why am I thinking about this right now?

Ian let out a low chuckle. It seemed the memories from a few days ago had unconsciously lingered in his mind.

Have I grown attached now? Do I actually want to stay in this world?

There was no immediate answer to the question he had asked himself, as the carriage had come to a halt. The small window to the coachman’s seat slid open, followed by Philip’s voice.

"We’re at the crossroads. Time to get off, my lord."

Ian set the bottle down on the floor and glanced at Elia. She, now cloaked again, opened the carriage door. Ian retrieved a bundle wrapped in black cloth from his pocket dimension and placed it by the door before following her outside.

Ian looked up at the cloudy sky, then turned his gaze to the back of the carriage. A large, sturdy-looking carriage had come to a stop. Seated in the driver’s seat was Shelby, Phaden’s squire.

The door of the carriage opened, and Phaden, looking somewhat haggard, stepped out. Two women, both wearing the same gray hoods, followed him. Though their heights differed, it was difficult to tell who was Seras and who was Asme without a closer look. That was likely the reason they wore identical cloaks—to prevent enemies from identifying the real princess in a critical situation.

Not that anyone would dare to attempt such a thing, Ian thought as he glanced ahead of the carriage.

As Fael approached the crossroads where the caravan had halted, he seemed much more like his usual self. Just a few hours ago, he had been preoccupied with a hangover and unfinished tasks, but now he appeared more composed.

"The moment of parting has come so soon. What a shame, Sir."

Fael stopped in front of Ian, adding, "If it were up to me, I’d follow you all the way to the capital."

"You’d regret it. Even now, once you return, you’ll be so busy you won’t have a moment to breathe," Ian responded with a smirk. Fael, already looking exasperated, shook his head and clasped his hands together.

"Sir, once again, I thank you. Truly—"

"Enough with the flattery. You said that a hundred times last night." Ian cut him off.

Fael had indeed spent the entire night toasting Ian and his companions, expressing his gratitude in endless rounds. Of course, he hadn’t forgotten to offer his thanks to the princess, whom everyone in the caravan believed was the daughter of a powerful noble in the capital.

"In that case, I shall convey my thanks through the gift I promised."

With a smile, Fael drew a wooden box from his robes and respectfully held it out with both hands. It was a small, well-polished box, about the size of a cigar case.

"Ah, so this is the golden insignia."