I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 254

The fact that the attention of the nobles and officials had completely shifted was proof that the Platinum Dragon’s final gift had been more effective than expected.

Come to think of it, no one has visited today.

A smirk tugged at one corner of Ian's mouth. Everyone was probably busy interpreting last night's events in their own way, drafting letters to send to their contacts within the Order.

Ian didn’t particularly care about the repercussions that might follow. His name would undoubtedly be mentioned, but after all, the official heroes of the miracle that occurred at the church yesterday were Gothier and Nasser.

The Great Church would likely be preoccupied with tracking their movements for some time. Only when they realize they couldn't find them at all would they start looking for Ian. He had already prepared an excuse for that potential moment.

I’ll throw the Dawn Brigade under the bus if it comes to that.

Once news of Racliffe reached them, the Dawn Brigade would likely be in complete chaos. Not only had the ones sent to kill Ian defected, but they also killed a member of the Round Table.

Their leader, in particular, would be wracking their brains over this. However, they wouldn’t send another assassin after Ian. If it happened once, it could happen again.

Of course, there was also the possibility they’d be too busy to care about him anymore since the Round Table would be in disarray. The Platinum Dragon himself had hinted that the balance was going to crumble, and so had Kralen. This incident would likely ignite internal conflicts.

It would be perfect if they self-destructed...

In Ian's view, it seemed increasingly likely that someone would ultimately seize control of the Round Table’s power. Looking back now, it was clear that in the game, that someone had been the Dawn Brigade. Back then, the pure devotees rose to prominence within the Order, enforcing all sorts of extreme policies.

Since this incident would set them back, another faction would probably take power this time. Whoever it was, they’d likely cause chaos, but that was unavoidable. It was a current that couldn’t be resisted.

The mere fact that the Round Table’s influence would likely diminish compared to the game was victory enough. Moreover, tracking them wouldn’t be too difficult. By paying attention to the most drastic changes that differ from the game, Ian could pick up their trail easily.

...Though I don’t plan on stirring things up myself anytime soon.

Ian shrugged slightly. There was no need to stir up trouble and give them a common enemy to unite against.

It was better to let them focus on their internal power struggles. The chaos from this incident would take time to settle. So, after leaving Racliffe, he planned to return to his main job as a wandering mercenary, quietly dealing with side quests.

Main job, huh?

A bitter smile crossed Ian’s lips.

I’ve really become a local, haven’t I? Damn it...

It was then that the carriage slowed down.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Ian looked over at Thesaya and Charlotte, wondering why it was so quiet—Thesaya's expression wasn't good. A foul stench, a mix of rotten and fishy odors, had somehow seeped into the carriage. It was the kind of smell you might expect in the alleys of a border town.

Ian spoke up. "What do you think?"

"It’s quiet. At least there are no people around."

"Right. No one would notice if someone died here."

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Following Charlotte, Thesaya added her comment loud enough for Palmer to hear.

Palmer, as usual, showed no reaction.

...Has this guy completely lost the will to live?

Ian finally looked down at Palmer again. He didn’t really care about Palmer's condition, but if it kept him from talking, that would be a problem.

Then again, Charlotte would find a way to make him talk. Her interrogation techniques were something even Ian could learn from. In truth, Ian wasn’t just interested in the information Palmer would spill. He was more curious about what Charlotte and Thesaya would think of it afterward.

Whatever plan they come up with is bound to be half-baked...

The reason Ian was here was to listen to everything and then reinforce the plan as needed. The carriage, which had been struggling along, finally came to a complete stop. The small window opened, and Nasser’s voice followed.

"Open the right door."

"The right?"

"Left side for you, Thesa."

"You sure make things complicated, one ear."

"... Was it complicated?"

Thesaya, who had just lightly chided him, opened the door. Ian followed her out of the carriage and soon nodded in agreement. They were in a secluded corner of the city, facing a towering stone wall. The small clearing at the end of a winding alley was littered with trash and rotting fish heads.

This really is the kind of place criminals would love.

The carriage was parked in a way that blocked the alley. Even if someone approached, they wouldn’t be able to see beyond the carriage. Ian glanced at the panting brown horse and, loosening his sword belt, spoke up.

"Make sure no one comes near, and keep the horse from eating anything off the ground. If it gets sick and dies, we’ll have to pay for it."

"We should be more worried about it collapsing from exhaustion first. I’ll take it over there to rest and give it some water. Don’t worry; if anyone shows up, I’ll make sure they leave quietly."

Nasser, who had caught the sword Ian tossed him, untied the horse and leaped off the other side of the carriage.

He’s really become a proper coachman now.

Suppressing a chuckle, Ian turned to Charlotte. She had just tossed Palmer out of the carriage and was now holding his ankles.

Charlotte met his gaze and asked, "Are you going to leave the interrogation to me?"

"Yeah. I’ll just sit here and watch. I do have a few questions, but they’re not important. I’ll ask them after you’re done."

"... I might kill him before that."

"Well, then there’s nothing I can do about it." Ian shrugged as he perched on the edge of the carriage.

Charlotte, with a cold expression, nodded and dragged Palmer to the middle of the clearing. His body was covered in filth, but she didn’t even glance at it. She stopped and forced Palmer to kneel by grabbing his neck. The mask covering Palmer’s face slipped off, revealing his slightly gaunt face. His once fierce, confident yellow eyes had lost their vitality.

"Hello. We meet again." Thesaya waved her fingers in greeting as she stood next to Charlotte, who then removed the gag from Palmer’s mouth.

His yellow eyes, which had been fixed on Thesaya, slowly turned to Charlotte.

"...." Charlotte silently stared down at him for a moment. Palmer’s gaze eventually lowered, as if something invisible was pressing down on him.

Something Ian had experienced before.

Back then, it was Charlotte who was in that position.

Now, it felt like a distant memory.

"From now on, you will answer every question properly," Charlotte said in a low voice.

Palmer clenched his teeth for a moment, then spat out his words, his gaze fixed on Charlotte’s knees. "To think I would die in a filthy back alley... But I’m already prepared. Go ahead, kill me."

"I will, but it would be wise to answer my questions first if you want a death with a little less shame."

"...." Palmer didn’t respond, simply clenching his teeth as he glanced upward.

Charlotte's voice continued. "When did you start serving the Primal Wildness? Was it when you were still in Maro Tel?"

Is that the name of the beastfolk city?

Ian mused silently as Palmer muttered in response.

"Yes. Even before leaving our new homeland..."

"As I thought... Even before I left for the central, there were already plenty of selfish and weaklings like you."

"Since when did it become selfish and weak to serve one's ancestors...? If you knew how much I sacrificed for our tribe, you wouldn't dare tarnish my honor like this."

"Sacrifices for the corruption of the tribe, more like!"

There was a chilling undertone in Charlotte's voice, accompanied by the sound of bones cracking as she clenched her fist. Her mane bristled as she continued.

"Tell me, what is the current state of Maro Tel? Are there really that many young warriors performing the rite of the wild?"

Palmer, trembling as if struggling against a primal fear, finally raised his eyes to meet hers and spat out with clenched teeth.

"Are you asking me to betray my tribe...? You'll get nothing from me... no matter how much you try to disgrace and torture me!"

"That’s not what this is about!"

Palmer visibly weakened as Charlotte's sharp reply seemed to physically affect him.

"Your kind is putting the entire tribe at risk right now. I’m trying to save them!"

"What are you talking about... Soon, the Empire will no longer care about the lands across the Inner Sea... A time of chaos and darkness is coming...!"

Palmer growled, his head bowed as he spoke with a defiant tension in his voice.

"When that time comes, we will reclaim all the lands our ancestors lost... We’ll become predators in the shadows once more, tearing those filthy pointy-eared bastards apart!"

"Is that why you helped the Duke? But that foolish dream of yours will never come true. The blades targeting your tribe will strike long before darkness engulfs the Empire."

Charlotte's voice growled with the ferocity of a beast as she reached out, gripping Palmer's cheeks so tightly that blood began to ooze. She forced his head upward, her voice unwavering.

"The Order and the pointy-eared bastards already know about your kind. They’re waiting for the moment when your faction becomes the majority in the tribe so they can mark you as enemies."

"...!?" Palmer's face contorted in shock.

His trembling eyes locked with Charlotte's as she continued. "The Order’s purifiers and pointy-eared mercenaries will march into the South. Do you understand what that means? It means the slaughter we experienced in the past will happen all over again!"

"That’s... That’s impossible...."

Palmer, frozen in disbelief, finally managed to speak.

"Is that... really true?"

"I suppose the Duke never told you? He must’ve known. Yes, it's all true. I heard it myself—from an elf."

Charlotte's grip on his cheeks tightened as she bore into his yellow eyes.

"So speak now. What is the current situation in Maro Tel?"

"...." Palmer’s eyes, which had been clouded with shock and disbelief, slowly began to clear. He stared at Charlotte as if holding his breath, and finally, with a resolute expression, he began to speak.

"Maro Tel is currently..."

***

Ian returned to the mansion around dusk.

"...?"

As he stepped down from the carriage, his eyes twitched slightly in surprise. Thesaya, who followed behind him, sniffed the air and then turned to Charlotte, speaking in a low voice.

"I had my doubts, but it turns out I was right. This is indeed the source of that delicious smell."

Ian realized that his nose hadn’t deceived him. The mouth-watering smell filled the courtyard, emanating from within the mansion. Ian glanced at Nasser, who was busy tending to the exhausted horse, before promptly opening the door.

"Huh...." Ian paused in his tracks, letting out a short sigh. As Thesaya and Charlotte entered behind him, their eyes widened in astonishment.

"Are we really seeing this right...?"

"... Hard to believe, but yeah."

The interior of the mansion was completely transformed from when they had left. What was once dusty and filled with a musty odor was now spotless and even well-lit.

All the lamps and candlesticks along the walls, which they hadn't even noticed before, were now flickering with light. It was a sight that even evoked a sense of coziness, something rarely felt in this dark age.

"You’re back later than I expected."

Just as Ian was about to take another step, Philip suddenly emerged from the side of the hallway. Ian stopped and looked back at him.

... That’s the dining room over there.

"I was beginning to worry that something might’ve gone wrong. So, did everything go smoothly?"

"What’s all this? Did someone do a deep clean?" Instead of answering, Ian asked.

Philip blinked in surprise before breaking into a smile.

"Oh, this? Hard to believe, but—"

"... It was Elia’s doing, Ian." Mev’s voice cut him off.

She stepped out of the dining room, now dressed more casually, and stood beside Philip. She was holding something—a teacup, of all things.

Steam was gently rising from it, indicating that she had indeed been enjoying tea.

"When we came in, she had already finished more than half of the cleaning."

"She did?"

"Yes. She’s cooking now. I must apologize—we already had our meal a bit earlier."

"We were starving since the morning, so we couldn’t wait. I hope you understand," Philip added.

As Mev took a sip from her teacup, Ian asked, "That tea, did Elie brew it?"

"Yes. It seems there were some tea leaves left in the kitchen. I didn't realize it, but there were also quite a few spices still usable."

Mev’s lips curled into a meaningful smile as she continued. "And I’ll tell you now, Ian—Elia is quite the cook. You’re in for a treat."

Ian was about to chuckle skeptically when Philip, nodding in agreement, added, "Congratulations, my lord. You’ve got yourself an excellent godchild."