I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 322

Chapter 322

"Kreeeak!"

A sharp, ear-splitting sound came from the mouth on the spider’s back. For a moment, its cluster of single eyes locked onto Ian as it crouched low, preparing to strike.

"Screeee—yaaaah!"

A high-pitched shriek erupted, the same sound that had accompanied the troll’s earlier roar. It momentarily slowed Ian’s advance and twisted the flow of magic within him. Feeling an ominous premonition, Ian slammed his shield into the ground to pause himself.

Whip—clang!

A tentacle snapped from above, striking the ground before him like a whip. It was the spider’s tail. Its basic hunting method seemed clear: slow down its prey with a scream and then attack with its tail.

Just as the carapace of the tail twitched, as if preparing to retract,

Crack!

A bright yellow arc sliced right through it. Ian sprang up and swung his Light Sword in one motion.

The severed end of the tail sprayed fluid and writhed, the jointed, claw-like tips twitching as if seeking a target. A narrow opening at its end revealed sharp, mucus-covered spikes that flicked out like a tongue.

What is this, some kind of alien...?

Its purpose was likely to pierce the brains of its prey and seize control of their nerves. Ian’s brow furrowed briefly with disgust.

"Skreeee—ekkk!"

The host spider flailed its severed tail and flung fluid in all directions. Its shriek still carried the resonance that disrupted the magic, but Ian paid it no mind.

Tap-tap—

He no longer needed magic to finish this fight.

Ian charged at the writhing creature. Its eyes glistened just before it swung its truncated tail at him like a whip. Thanks to his heightened instincts, Ian expected the move and surged forward at just the right moment.

Whoosh—

The tail lashed the ground where he’d been a moment before.

Without even blinking, Ian glared down at the host spider now within reach. Its gaping maw became clearer, framed by thin, leg-like appendages and lined with rows of backward-facing, needle-like teeth. The sight was grotesque enough to stir the worst imaginations. He could feel the wary, vivid stare from its multiple eyes, and sensing its fear.

Suddenly, a fragment of chaos within him stirred.

Does it harbor the essence of chaos within its body? Is that why it can survive beyond the demonic realm?

Ian dismissed the thought as he lowered the Platinum Barrier and raised his Light Sword high. At the same moment, the spider’s mouth stretched wide, revealing its appendages twitching and countless teeth churning inside.

"Craa—aaaah!"

A piercing scream slashed through more than his eardrums, cutting through his entire body. Yet it could not disrupt the dragon's magic embedded in his Mantra circuit. As he fell diagonally into the gaping maw, Ian gripped the Truesilver Steel Sword with both hands and brought it down with all his might.

Slash—

The bright yellow blade cut through everything in its path: the backward-facing teeth, the gaping maw, and the flesh and organs beyond. Ian barely felt any resistance as he drove the blade forward, moving through what felt like a tunnel of mucus in the creature’s body.

Fuck...

Ian burst out from inside the host spider, landing on the ground and rolling to a stop. The surface of his cloak was slick with viscous fluid. Coming to a stop on one knee, Ian swiftly unfurled the Platinum Barrier behind him to guard the back of his head. Sticky mucus dripped from the shadowy cloak that clung tightly around his entire body.

Splat—

A rain of organs and fluids, mixed with remnants of the spider’s insides, showered down as the split body of the host spider crumpled and collapsed.

"Hah..."

Ian muttered another silent curse as he stood up abruptly. He dismissed the Platinum Barrier and turned to look back. The massive creature, its body split nearly in half and spilling its insides, filled his vision. His eyes lingered on the torn cross-section as he felt a distinct surge of chaotic energy emanating from it. A low, eager hum came from within him, where the fragment of chaos stirred.

... If there had been too much, I wouldn’t have bothered.

Despite his inward grumble, Ian stepped closer to the carcass. At the same time, he deactivated the Platinum Claw.

Shhh—

The yellow glow of the Light Sword dissipated, revealing the pure white steel beneath. The engraved Mantra circuits on the blade dimmed, holding only about half of their original power. He hadn’t fought long, but the energy cost was steep.

The stench...

Sheathing his sword, Ian took in the sight of the exposed cross-section, where entrails and bodily fluids oozed out.

A field boss carrying an essence bead of chaos?

In the game, it must have been why the corrupted players had to hunt elite monsters from the demonic realm or cursed lands after the midpoint. Whether this world had once been a game or the game had been modeled after this world, he no longer knew.

Ian thrust his right hand into the innards where the chaotic energy was strongest. The sickening sensation spread over his glove for only a moment. He thrust his right hand into the innards, ignoring the revolting texture seeping through his gloves.

Swoosh...

A subtle, purple glow spread from within and seeped into Ian’s body. The shard of chaos within him eagerly absorbed that trickle of chaotic energy.

Ian’s eyes widened just a moment later. A vision flashed before him—a fleeting glimpse of a world drenched in shadows. The sky was a dull, ashen gray, streaked with flashes of violet lightning. Below it, fields and forests appeared drained of color, crawling with eyes that glowed a sinister purple and magenta. A nauseating, labored breath reverberated through the scene.

His vision sank as if being pulled underground, and darkness enveloped him. Something darker than the night itself flickered within the darkness, almost taking the shape of fingers. The moment he realized that the surface had scales like those of a serpent, he saw countless violet eyes flare to life beyond the darkness. They were all part of a single, immense creature.

Suddenly, all sensations snapped back into place.

"Phew... Phew..."

Ian found himself sitting on the sticky, fluid-soaked ground. However, confusion or fear did not overcome him.

So that’s the state of the frontier...

He stood, processing the thought calmly. Perhaps his higher Mental Fortitude had helped him resist the disorienting aftereffects. The dark band from the back of his head to his brow remained firmly in place.

"Understood." Miguel stood up promptly.

While rummaging through the bag, he muttered, "By the way... is there any drink similar to what we had before? The scent keeps lingering at the tip of my nose."

"That’s trouble. You’ll probably never taste that again in your lifetime."

"Ugh...."

The group reached the North by early afternoon the next day without delay. From then on, though they occasionally encountered undead during the night, Miguel did not utter a single complaint.

***

The old city walls stretched out to the distant eastern foothills. The wall, illuminated by torches at intervals, looked just as Ian remembered it in Ninglosth. However, there was a difference: the guards holding crossbows who used to stand atop the wall were nowhere in sight. Only two guards with spears stood watch beside the half-open city gate—an indication that there weren’t many soldiers left in the city.

"... Move along quickly."

One of the guards, who was staring at the approaching group, spoke indifferently, "I've said it before, but after midnight, no amount of shouting will get these gates open."

It was clear they had mistaken the group for mercenaries.

Ian saw no need to correct them and simply nodded. "Understood."

The guard didn’t respond further, not sparing another glance as they passed through the gate.

"Seems like this place treats mercenaries differently from others," Ian muttered as they entered the city.

It seemed that the Dragon Slayer’s Warriors had firmly established themselves. It wouldn’t have been surprising if they acted as unofficial rulers of the place.

Miguel snorted quietly. "They’ve gone soft. Well, with the mercenaries handling all the dirty work, I wouldn’t bother them either."

The city, typical of the North with its rugged and arid appearance, spread out before them, illuminated by torches. Despite the late hour, a decent number of people were still moving through the streets, and the faint glow and sound of hammers striking anvils could be seen and heard in the distance.

The sharp scent of iron filled the air.

"It seems this place didn’t suffer much from the attacks by the undead."

"The main force was directed toward Travelga. The undead reached this area too, but there wasn’t much damage. Word has it that your warning allowed them to prepare in advance. Wasn’t that the case?"

"Did I...?" Ian tilted his head thoughtfully as a memory surfaced.

He had once, almost offhandedly, advised them to strengthen the defenses of the Northern wall. He thought no one would take it seriously. The face of the gate captain, Lucas’s deputy, came to mind unbidden.

"Well, it’s good to see they’re doing okay."

"Most Northern cities are like this now. It’s practically wartime. The Archduke has been spending generously. By the way, how do you plan to find their base?" Miguel slowed his pace and asked, steering the horses toward the stable.

Ian shrugged. "No need to overthink it. Just head to the busiest inn—that’ll be their base."

"... True enough. Mercenaries are predictable."

"I’ll head over first, so take care of the horses and catch up."

As Lucia dismounted to follow Ian, he leaned closer to Miguel and added, "Feed them the best they got, and don’t tie this one up."

"Understood. Acting as a guide and stable hand—feels like old times." Miguel laughed, leading the three horses away with a casual stride.

Ian turned to Lucia. "You can come with him if you want."

"Might there be a fight?"

"Possibly."

"Then I’m coming." Lucia smiled beneath her hood and began adjusting the joints of her greaves as she walked.

Ian had sensed it all along—this one wasn’t the type to shy away from battle. It was something that couldn’t be hidden, the blood of a knightly house. Perhaps it was also the influence of the Blazing Goddess.

Well, at least she’s not careless.

With his cloak hood pulled low, Ian walked side by side with Lucia across the city and soon found the inn where a crowd had gathered. It was the same inn he had once stayed at with Charlotte and Thesaya.

"A newcomer...?"

As Ian and Lucia approached, the men leaning against the wall near the entrance, chattering, glanced at them. Ian’s eyes swept over them calmly. Though their gear varied wildly and lacked any uniformity, they were all well-armed. One of them even sported expensive gear that seemed more like a display of wealth than practical equipment.

Their pockets must be full. These bastards...

He thought to himself, considering shaking them down later. Ian opened the door to the inn. The boisterous noise inside resonated through his body. To some, it might seem lively and spirited, but to Ian, it was just a crowd of dozens of unruly drunkards.

"Never seen you before."

Before Ian could take more than a few steps, someone blocked his path. It was, predictably, a mercenary.

He spoke in a low, threatening tone, "They don’t serve outsiders here."

Ian didn’t recognize this man either. Still, he was well-equipped; even the pommel of his sword was adorned with ornate silver inlays, a testament to his profitable dealings with clients.

Ian responded calmly, "Then I guess that doesn’t apply to me. I’m not an outsider."

"Oh, really. Here to sign up? Or maybe looking for a job?" The mercenary’s lips curved into a subtle smile.

Ian’s mouth twitched at the corner. "Neither. I’m here to see your captain."

"The captain...?" A brief frown passed over the mercenary’s face. "You know the captain?"

"In a way. If it’s still Trude."

"It is. Still."

"Good." Ian’s smile deepened slightly.

"Then go tell Trude," he said, pushing back his hood to reveal his face, "Ian Hope is here to see him."