Chapter 591

I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

Ian’s expression didn't change in the slightest.

"Just as I thought…" he murmured, nodding, and simply picked up his cup.

His brow twitched only after he took a sip of the wine. It was surprisingly excellent. He glanced down at the wine, then brought the cup back to his lips.

"Are you saying that the nearby kingdoms have all abandoned their borders?" Lucia asked, having taken off her mask.

Simon, who had pulled up a chair to sit between them, turned to look at her as Ohara nodded. "That’s right. Whether it was intentional or they had no choice, I don’t know."

"At least for the Bastard King, it was definitely intentional," Thesaya said, resting her chin on her hand.

She glanced between Ian and Lucia. "He has the Redhead and the Half-Ear at his side, doesn't he? Maybe even that ugly Prosthetic. And he’s got plenty of other useful pawns. If he had wanted the southern lands, he would have taken them one way or another by now."

"Mm. I suppose you’re right," Ian said, setting down his cup and nodding. He pretended not to notice Lucia’s subtle gaze.

"In any case, thanks to that, this fake kingdom has also gone to ruin," Ohara said with her arms crossed. Just then, Max returned and placed more bottles and cups on the table.

"This city is all that’s left. And from the looks of it, everyone here will be called back to the archipelago soon enough," added Ohara.

"I don’t know about that. At least, not for a while. The seas around those scraps of islands are probably teeming with crazed sea beasts." Thesaya gestured with her chin for Ohara to pour her a drink.

"So the sea routes are completely cut off. I never would have imagined… How interesting," Ohara said with a smile, pouring wine into each cup in turn. Her eyes showed no trace of worry or anxiety.

Of course, Ian couldn't have cared less about her inner thoughts.

"Well, that simplifies things. We just have to take the fastest route," murmured Ian as he set down his cup.

Ohara refilled it for him with a smile. "That’s right. You just have to follow the road that leads to the valley. There are no patrols, no fortress guards."

There would be demonic realms and monsters instead, but that was neither new nor surprising to Ian. Once he crossed the border, he would soon reach familiar territory. He wouldn't even need to pass through any towns.

As Ian mentally mapped out the fastest route to Orendel, Simon, who had been quietly sipping his wine, said, "To think they’d choose to coexist with monsters, leaving them be… I’d heard the frontier had become a mess, but this is worse than I could have imagined."

"This isn't the Empire, Young Master," Ohara said playfully, bringing her cup to her lips.

Simon eyed the tattoos crowding her arms and gave a faint nod. "So it seems. They say they even eat monster meat on the frontier. I always thought that was just a wild tale, but perhaps it’s true."

"It’s not entirely inedible," Lucia said then.

As Simon looked at her, she took a sip of wine and added, "Monster meat, I mean."

"Ah, haha. I see…. I am a bit curious what it tastes like…." Simon laughed awkwardly, his eyes uncertain whether she was joking.

Just then, Ian set down his freshly emptied cup. "This was a useful conversation."

He drew out a leather pouch and placed a gold coin on the table. "Feed the horses well. My black steed eats meat, so give it a large cut."

"A horse with a peculiar appetite. I’ll see to it," Ohara said, covering the gold coin with her hand. She watched Ian with the careful gaze of a spellcaster.

"I’d like a bath as well." Ian slipped the pouch away, tucking it into his pocket dimension.

Ohara nodded. "There’s a well out the back door. Use that. Surely you weren’t expecting something like a bathtub?"

Clicking his tongue, Ian stood up from his seat. "I was. A pity. We’re leaving tomorrow morning, so everyone, get some rest today."

Simon’s eyes widened. "Tomorrow? So soon?"

"Yes. Tomorrow. So soon,"

Ian glanced at Lucia as he turned.

"Then I’ll see you this afternoon. For now, I need some sleep."

After I wash up a bit, at least.

***

The dead were buried behind a hill, far from the road on the outskirts of the city. When the mourners returned, their faces showed less grief than relief.

"Thank you, Priestess."

"Thank you."

Brennen and Simon were no different, offering her their thanks again and again. The faint holy light rising from Lucia’s hooded cloak, born of her earnest prayers, had been the reason. The Blazing Goddess had watched over the funeral—a sign to all present that the souls of the fallen had been granted peace.

By the time Ian passed through the gateless palisade and re-entered the city, Sanford slipped up beside him, leaving only Hashim walking ahead.

"Ohara was extremely curious about your identity, sir. She said it seemed as though all decisions were in your hands."

"So, did you tell her?" Ian asked indifferently. He wasn't surprised. Sanford had been stealing glances at him the whole time.

Sanford bowed his head and mumbled, "She brought up old stories… and threatened me. And well, when it comes to telling the tale of crossing the sea… It’s something that would have come up sooner or later, wouldn’t it?"

"So you told her," Ian gave a quiet snort, eyes still fixed on the streets already growing dim with dusk. The city was still lifeless, dreary, and dirty.

"B-But I made her promise to keep it a secret until you leave, sir! I swear!" Sanford added, pleading.

Ian nodded. "Fine. At least you confessed. That’s something."

He hadn't expected Sanford to keep his mouth shut anyway. Besides, the crew all knew. As Simon had said before, it was bound to get out eventually.

Sanford let out a sigh of relief and smiled. "Don’t worry. Ohara rarely leaves the inn, and Anna isn't interested in other people’s business. And Max has no tongue."

"Just know that if any trouble arises, you’ll be the one to deal with it," Ian said as they turned into an alley, glancing at Sanford. "Or you’ll end up like Max."

"I-I’ll keep that in mind!" Sanford bobbed his head so violently it looked ready to fall off, then scurried ahead toward Hashim.

The noise of raucous voices was already spilling out ahead of them; those who had been sprawled in sleep had clearly risen at last.

"Is it true that once you enter the Temple of the Brazier, you cannot leave as you please?"

"That’s not true for everyone."

"Then, what about you, priestess?"

"In my case… probably."

The conversation drifted to his ears, and Ian glanced back. Simon moved with stiff, awkward steps, while Lucia’s expression stayed calm as ever.

"Then… if… it wouldn’t be too much of an imposition, may I one day… visit the temple?"

"Of course, that’s fine."

"R-Really?"

"If it’s for training or to offer patronage. If you have other private motives, you’ll probably be thrown out."

"Ah, I see. Training or patronage… Understood."

Isn’t that just proselytizing?

As Ian met Lucia’s eyes, she approached him as if nothing were amiss. "Looks like they’re already celebrating."

The commotion was growing louder. Sanford and Hashim, who had arrived first, were holding the door open, waiting for them. As Ian and Lucia approached, Sanford stepped inside ahead of them.

"Show your respect! The Blazing Goddess has received them!"

"Oh—ohhh!"

As the cheer erupted, Ian and Lucia stepped inside. The sailors, their bodies covered in bandages and splints, scrambled to their feet.

"Thank you—"

"Thank you! Glory to the Blazing Goddess!"

It’s not like they’re a bunch of thugs.

Shaking his head at the chaotic shouts, Ian walked on, ignoring the gaze of Ohara, who was standing in front of the kitchen.

"Ian!" said Thesaya.

Shahin, Mukapa, and Thesaya were gathered at a corner table. As Ian approached, Thesaya’s eyes sparkled. "Those guys are about to start a gambling game in their room. Can I join in?"

"So you’re planning to throw away your savings on those guys?" Ian asked, sitting down beside her. Shahin quickly stood up and brought a chair for Lucia.

"Throw it away? I’ll be doubling it. I’ve got more money to bet than any of them." Thesaya snorted. Her tone was full of confidence.

Right. They say fairies are natural-born gamblers.

Clicking his tongue, Ian shrugged. "Just don’t forget that we’re leaving tomorrow."

"Of course. I’ve had plenty of sleep," Thesaya said with a smirk and stood up.

As a few of the men who had been quietly listening in perked up, she lifted her chin and looked around the room. "Make sure you save a spot for me. And be warned, if I catch you cheating, you’ll lose a finger."

"Wait, what nonsense is this? You cripples are setting up a gambling game?" said Sanford, picking up his cup.

He glared around the room. "Without your captain? Save a spot for me, too, you bastards!"

The sailors, who had frozen, finally broke into laughter and cheers, raising their cups.

Just then, Simon, who had taken a seat, raised his right hand. "Though really, isn’t the room too small for such a game?"

As the sailors turned to look, he picked up his cup with a broad grin. "Why not gather in my room instead? I was told it’s the largest!"

"You are truly wise, Young Master!"

"To the Young Master who knows how to have fun! Cheers!"

The crew roared, cups clashing, while Brennen clutched his forehead with a groan. Simon, of course, just chugged his drink and burst into childish laughter.

Just then, Ohara approached, carrying a tray.

"After you’ve finished your meal, could you spare me a moment?" she whispered, placing a plate of food in front of Ian.

When he looked up, she offered him a sly smile. "There’s something I’d like to discuss with you privately, Agent of the Saint."

"If it’s just a conversation."

So much for keeping it a secret.

Instead of answering, Ohara poured wine into his cup and walked over to Lucia. By now, the sailors were singing at the top of their lungs or boasting about the near-death experiences they had each overcome. In between, of course, were praises for Ian and Lucia.

There really is no such thing as a secret here.

Though he let out a dry laugh, Ian continued his meal without a word. They had all just survived death’s door. There was no need to throw cold water on their celebration.

"I’ll go with you, Sister."

"Will you? But do you even know how to play?"

"Of course. I learned all sorts of gambling techniques from Miguel."

"Did you? Perfect. Then let’s bleed them dry."

Lucia and Thesaya were quietly plotting, and Shahin was circling among the sailors, telling them to call him for any errands.

The only ones still calmly eating were Ian and Mukapa—though the latter was devouring food at a pace that threatened to bankrupt the inn.

"Young Master! Let’s go!" Sanford’s shout came in less than half an hour.

Simon sprang up, clutching his cup, and the gamblers, faces set with grim resolve, followed one after another. Many bore wounds, more than half of them, yet even those who steadied the injured wore the same solemn determination.

"Humans. Like moths to a flame," Thesaya snorted and stood up leisurely.

With a long cigarette holder between her lips, she looked at Ian and winked. "Wish me luck. Get ready to be rich again."

"I’ll return victorious," said Lucia, her face as serious as if she were heading into battle.

In moments, more than half the company had gone upstairs. Watching them go, Ian let out a dry laugh. "At this rate, it wouldn’t surprise me if knives got drawn."

"I’ll go keep watch," said Mukapa.

Ian glanced at him and shrugged. "If Thesa really wins all their money, tell her to give half of it back to the original owners. We crossed the line between life and death together; we should part on good terms."

"If such a situation arises, I will tell her." Mukapa, holding a platter of meat, stood up. At the very least, there was no need to worry about Mukapa getting carried away by gambling.

Soon after, all the tables had emptied.

Finally, some peace.

Ian rolled his shoulders lightly, oddly relieved. The hall itself, however, was far from quiet.

The expressionless waitress, Anna, was tirelessly moving between the tables, clearing cups. Occasionally, a sailor would make a lewd pass at her, only to be met with a fist to the face. The others just laughed it off, likely because Max was watching from the kitchen.

"Agent of the Saint." Ohara approached just as Ian had set down his fork and was sipping his wine.

Refilling his cup, she asked, "May I have a moment of your time now?"

"If it’s just talk, we can do it here. The place is empty," Ian said nonchalantly.

Ohara’s smile grew strange. "It’s a spellcaster’s business."

What, is she going to show me a magic trick?

He stood up, cup in hand. "Fine, then. Let’s go."

The second-floor hall was noisy with the sounds from the gambling room. A high-stakes game was clearly underway.

Ian crossed to the far end, entering the room where he and his group were staying.

"It seems a bit cramped for the five of you. Shall I give you another room?" Ohara asked, following him inside. Her eyes scanned the battle hammer leaning against the wall and the discarded pieces of armor.

Ian set his cup on the bedside table and looked at her. "It’s fine. Let’s get to the point."

"Yes. It’s not much of a story, really… though it may come across as a little dramatic," Ohara said, stopping in the middle of the room.

Ian gave her a nod and raised his glass.

Ohara smiled faintly, took a breath, and said, "Between the North and the frontier, there are many mountains and valleys, large and small. Some of them lead to the Empire."

As her low voice spread, Ian, who had put the cup to his lips, felt his eyes narrow slightly. He had felt the magic in Ohara begin to stir and surge. It was a strangely familiar resonance.

Magic outburst?

It was a wave of power he had only felt from bosses just before they self-destructed. However, her magic wasn't boiling as if it would explode, nor was his Intuition screaming a warning. Instead, the tattoos on her neck and arms flushed with a dim red glow.

"Among them, behind a mountain called Nosnel, there is a deep valley. If you go inside…"

The marks on her skin glowed brighter with every word. They clearly covered not just her neck and arms but her entire upper body; a reddish light was shimmering through her clothes. Beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead.

"There you’ll find a winding lake called Eldor. Beneath it…" Her teeth clenched as she forced the words out. Then she bent double, panting, as the faint smell of burning crept into the air.

She’s going to die at this rate.

Ian clicked his tongue, setting his cup down—only for Ohara’s strained voice to break out again, urgent and raw.

"Beneath it lies the Gray Magic Tower!"