I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 732

Utrid blurted it out before he could stop himself. His mind went utterly blank, too stunned to realize how foolish he must have sounded.

"Hold the archduke’s funeral and begin preparations for your coronation," Ian Hope added the words as if they were of no great importance.

As Utrid’s mouth fell open in disbelief, Ian turned his head slightly. "General Harald."

"Yes, Your Excellency!" Harald’s respectful reply rang out at once. Clad in his fur cloak, he stood at the very rear of Ian’s retinue alongside Gelud and Torvien.

Ian continued, "I leave the rest to you, General. The Saintess and Her Highness will lend their assistance as well."

"I shall obey!" Harald answered immediately.

Of the two hooded women standing just behind Ian, two inclined their knees in silent acknowledgment.

"Take that as your understanding and make the necessary preparations. I will withdraw now." Ian swept his gaze once over Utrid and the family before turning on his heel.

Unlike when he had entered, only a knight in full plate armor and the smallest of the hooded women, likely the elder fairy, followed behind him as he departed.

"W–wait." Utrid, who had been staring blankly at the retreating figure, finally came to his senses. "Please, just a moment, Agent of the Saint! Agent of the Saint?"

Ian neither answered nor turned around. He walked on without slowing.

Utrid had no way of knowing that Ian was driven by nothing more than the need to rest, to escape the pain tearing through him. Ian no longer had the luxury of caring about anything else.

Kahalt slowly turned toward Utrid, his brow creasing into a deep frown.

It was not only his brother. By now, everyone in the hall was staring at Utrid—even the heavily armed soldiers who still stood rigidly at attention.

It was little wonder that Kahalt and the rest of the family found themselves unable to speak.

Thud, thud—

Still dazed, Utrid looked up as Harald and Gelud approached. His eyes drifted past them, lingering on the two women standing farther back.

Beneath their deeply drawn hoods, two pairs of red eyes gleamed faintly as they watched him. The subtle curve of their lips formed knowing smiles.

A heartbeat later, the approaching generals stepped in front of them, blocking them from view.

"I will escort you inside first." Harald addressed him in a steady voice, neither surprised nor pleased.

Utrid met his father-in-law’s gaze for a brief moment, then squeezed his eyes shut.

"By Lu Solar..."

Understanding struck him at last. Everything would move forward without the slightest regard for his will—and in the process, his relationship with his elder brother would likely be broken beyond repair.

***

Splash... slosh—

Seated in a square marble bath filled with hot water, Ian slowly scrubbed himself with unhurried hands.

He and his companions were staying at a manor near the inner keep. The building even had a proper bathhouse, clearly the work of a dwarven artisan. True to the North, however, the interior was clean and orderly, stripped of needless decoration.

No matter how exhausted I was, sleeping that long is ridiculous.

He had only awakened after a day and a half had passed. It had not been the forced march that drained him, but the duel with Karha at the very end.

Even now, his condition was far from perfect.

That bastard doesn’t know when to stop.

A sharp sting radiated across Ian’s back, and his brow furrowed. He clicked his tongue and leaned back against the rim of the bath.

Whether the damage came from Karha’s divinity battering him, or from his own reckless use of that strange, godlike power that had awakened within him, he could not tell.

In the end, the cause did not matter.

It’s not even a power I can use freely.

He lifted his hand before his face, studying it for a moment, then let it sink back into the water with a soft splash.

Once again, he had failed to summon that resonance.

Most likely, he would only be able to draw it out again in real combat—under very specific circumstances.

So I’ve finally reached the end of the Barbarian’s path...

The corner of his mouth lifted faintly.

From what he had seen in the game, the final stage of the Barbarian class had practically been ascension itself.

It was only natural—without such power, one could never stand against transcendent foes. Even the Blessing of Battle had always been a skill beyond control, activating only by rare chance.

That, however, was not why he let out a dry laugh.

At this rate, wouldn’t dumping all my points into common skills get me to the ending faster?

He began to question whether pursuing the path of a White Mage had any meaning at all. His Strength had already climbed to rival his Mental Fortitude. Intelligence, meanwhile, had sunk to become his lowest attribute.

Even if he reached the maximum level soon, his current stats and remaining points might not be enough to become a proper White Mage.

Creak—

That didn’t mean he could truly abandon the path. Most of the skills he had learned, and most of those still available to him, were magic in nature.

The soft scrape of the door opening behind him, followed by measured, cautious footsteps, pulled him from his thoughts.

Ian leaned his head back against the bath and spoke lazily. "What is it? Come to try an assassination?"

He had already determined that the presence did not belong to a servant bringing more hot water. Even so, he stood ready to unleash Willful Grasp at a moment’s notice.

The footsteps faltered.

"That was not my intent. I apologize for the discourtesy, Your Excellency. There is something I wish to ask in private, and so I dared to intrude."

It was Torvien, former commander of the Travelga Defense Force.

Ian did not bother to look back. "Is that why you cleared everyone out?"

"Yes. May I speak while facing you?"

"Go ahead." Ian tilted his head slightly.

Torvien stepped around to the side at last, revealing himself—a broad-shouldered man with a beard and an otherwise unremarkable face. He carried a steaming bucket of water in both hands.

When Ian looked at him steadily, Torvien lowered his gaze slightly as he asked, "May I pour it?"

Ian nodded. "Strange. It feels like we just met."

"Yes. That is correct." Despite his calm reply, Torvien poured the scalding hot water into the bath with extreme care. There was no hint of poison, no trace of a curse.

At Ian’s silent prompting to continue, Torvien set the empty bucket aside and spoke again. "I heard that after returning from beyond the Wall, you met... the Great One."

Ian inclined his head slightly. "I did."

Torvien hesitated before speaking again. "Is it... safe?"

"Why ask that?" Ian’s gaze never left him.

Torvien swallowed. "I have heard that beyond the Wall, archdemons and other demons remain. If something were to happen to the Saint of the Order at a time like this, the future of both the Empire and the North—"

"That’s enough." Ian cut him off.

Torvien froze mid-sentence.

"You’re not very good at lying," Ian said coolly. "You come all this way to ask after the Great One’s well-being, and that’s the excuse you come up with?"

Torvien pressed his lips together.

Ian added casually, "Did you grow up in the nest?"

Torvien gave no answer. Only one eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.

That was answer enough.

"I see." Ian’s voice lowered, though his expression did not change.

Of all places, he had found another Children of the Dragon here.

He had been told that once they left the nest and became independent, they were never to speak of it again. Yet Torvien had brushed against that unspoken rule. He had risked exposure for the sake of the Platinum Dragon’s safety.

That alone stirred a dull ache deep within Ian’s chest.

"Regardless, it has fallen into a long and deep slumber. Somewhere beyond even the sight of the heavens."

He allowed none of his thoughts to surface. He had a duty to honor the Platinum Dragon’s final words—especially before one of its children.

"So even if trouble befalls the Empire or the Order, you should not expect its aid."

Torvien bowed his head. "I understand. That is unfortunate."

Despite the words, Ian did not miss the faint relief that flickered across the man’s otherwise impassive face.

He clearly knew nothing of the Heaven Defier.

"I heard the archduke’s funeral has concluded." Ian shifted the subject casually.

"Yes. It was conducted quietly with only the family present."

"And preparations for the coronation?"

"They are underway under General Harald’s direction. It will be held next week. Her Highness the Princess will preside, and the Saintess has agreed to attend."

Ian nodded as he listened.

With Seras present, Imperial formalities would proceed swiftly. That had been the entire reason he sought the aid of Seras and Cherwyn in the first place.

"General Harald will soon request your attendance as well."

"I’m aware. In that regard, I have a confidential task for you." Ian inclined his head, then glanced at Torvien.

"Please speak." Torvien blinked once but answered without hesitation.

"It may not come to this, but we cannot allow internal discord to flare up again. Watch closely for any suspicious movements during the preparations."

"Yes. Understood." There was no doubt in his eyes, no sign that he questioned why Ian entrusted him with such a task.

"And for that reason," Ian added casually, "I summoned you here."

Torvien’s eyes widened for a brief moment.

Ian shrugged. "If anyone asks why you met me, tell them you cannot disclose it. Better that than another clumsy lie."

"As you command, Your Excellency." Torvien stared at him for a moment, then bowed his head.

"If possible, keep an eye on Her Highness as well."

Ian turned his gaze back to the ceiling as he continued, "She is a woman of many thoughts. If she says or does anything difficult to interpret, inform me at once—by any means."

"I will obey." Torvien nodded. He likely did not realize that this was the true heart of the matter.

"If you have nothing further, you may go." A faint curve touched Ian’s lips as he dismissed him.

Torvien picked up the empty bucket and bowed again. "Rest well. And... you have my sincere gratitude."

"No need." Ian waved it off without looking at him. "On your way out, tell them to prepare a meal. I’ll finish bathing shortly."

"Yes, Your Excellency." Torvien turned and left.

The door opened and closed.

Only after the footsteps faded did Ian let out a quiet sigh. "You really did leave me with a troublesome mission..."

The image of the golden dragon vanishing beyond the Milky Way surfaced in his mind. The sense of loss that followed had not faded. Unlike other emotions, it remained sharp and unmoving. Yet it was not bitterness alone.

At least I gained someone I can trust.

Ian nodded to himself as he resumed washing.

As his influence expanded, matters continued to drift in directions he had never intended. Torvien, at least, would follow orders without hidden motives. That alone provided a safeguard against unforeseen variables.

If it comes to it, I can always pull that kid over to my side as well.

By the time the bathwater cooled, Ian rose from the tub. He dried himself thoroughly and dressed in a fresh uniform.

Step— step—

He shook out his damp hair as he entered the hallway. Faint noise drifted in from outside, but the manor itself remained relatively quiet.

Since he had awakened, not a single member of his group had stayed inside. It was not only the coronation preparations that drew them out. After so long away, they had returned to a major city.

They were drinking and feasting with the legionnaires.

I should tell the centurions to pretend they didn’t see me.

Ian clicked his tongue as he headed toward the dining hall, where servants bustled about.

It was not merely the quality of the food that kept him dining within the manor. If he stepped outside without warning, chaos would follow.

He could no longer step out for a casual drink in the North.

"Y-Your Excellency!"

Once everything here is settled, I need to leave as soon as possible...

He nodded to himself as he walked. Then his gaze fixed on something at the far end of the hallway.

"Oh, you’ve returned, Your Excellency!"

It was not the steward rushing toward him that caught his attention.

Without taking his eyes off the far end of the hallway, Ian said, "Seems my friends are back."