I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 413

"Are you saying that your prosthetic has become a dragon’s armament?" Nasser asked, his voice filled with curiosity. Even Mev gave Miguel’s intricately forged steel prosthetic a fresh look.

Miguel shrugged. "I asked something similar, but it told me it didn’t quite deserve that title. Apparently, I haven’t left a big enough mark on history to be granted such a grand enchantment. If it did, it would disrupt causality and anger the gods or something."

He glanced down at his prosthetic hand. "It’s just a small token of gratitude for acting as his messenger, it said. And honestly, this thing goes completely numb for two days after using the enchantment."

Despite his words, there was a distinct satisfaction in Miguel’s expression. He casually rested his steel hand on his thigh and gave a grin. "But still, it’s more than enough for me. The power of a dragon runs through my fist and even wraiths shatter like pottery. Pretty damn cool, don’t you think?"

"Yeah. That’s quite something—a dragon’s messenger." Mev chuckled lightly and took a seat across from him. She set her helmet on the edge of the table and leaned her newly gained sword against her shoulder in a relaxed manner.

"When our mission is complete, and Sir Ian and the future saintess return safely, your name will be recorded in history as well, Priest," added Nasser, who had been rummaging through his bag.

"My name? If my name is going down in history, then Nila’s should too. That beast has killed more monsters than I have." Miguel scoffed and shook his head. "That horse was always sharp, but now? It’s practically human. I wouldn’t even be surprised if it started talking one day."

"Indeed. What exactly happened? Nila seems to have changed in a way that’s anything but ordinary." Nasser asked as he pulled out a blanket from his bag.

Miguel picked up his cup and replied. "It received the blessing of the Blazing Goddess."

"The blessing of Lu Entre?" Nasser’s head snapped toward him in surprise. Even Mev stopped running her fingers over the scabbard and turned to him with widened eyes.

"It’s a long story, but it almost died on the Northern Front. It saved both me and Lucy in the process. Maybe that’s why she received the blessing—because of Lucy’s prayers." freēwēbnovel.com

At the mention of the North and Lucia, Mev’s expression darkened again.

Unaware, Miguel continued, "Even with its side torn open and covered in blood, it just got back up like nothing happened. I nearly had a heart attack while watching it. Then, as time passed, its wounds healed abnormally fast. It started growing larger, and its mane became thicker and golden."

"So Nila is closer to a divine beast now. A miracle that even history rarely records." Nasser murmured in admiration before noticing Mev’s look.

Then he pulled out a bottle and a few pewter cups from his pack and strode toward the table. "It’s been too long since we last met, and we’re about to embark on a journey together. It wouldn’t be right to skip a proper toast, would it?"

"See, that’s why I like you. You actually get it." Miguel downed his cup in a single gulp. Setting his empty cup down, he finally took in Mev’s expression.

"I understand how you feel, but don’t worry too much. Sir Ian is one thing, but Lucy—she’s stronger than she looks. Wherever she is, I’d bet she’s handling things just fine."

"Yeah. You're right. Without a doubt." Mev lifted the corners of her lips, a faint smile tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

Nasser placed a pewter cup filled with liquor in front of her, then filled Miguel’s cup as well, and continued, "Knowing Sir Ian, he’s probably already looking for a way back from the other side. Who knows? He might even succeed before we do."

"I hadn't thought of that. But now that you mention it, that sounds exactly like him." Miguel grinned as he spoke, just as Mev raised her cup forward.

"Whatever happens, let’s see our duty through to the end."

"It’s been years since we traveled together. Looking forward to it."

"Same here."

The three clinked their cups together and brought them to their lips almost in unison.

"Still," Miguel muttered after setting his empty cup down, wiping his mouth with the edge of his cloak. "I wonder what they’re up to right now."

***

"Finally," Diana murmured, her gaze locked on the Wolves that had stopped ahead.

They had arrived in the ruins of a fortress gate, flanked by gently sloping mountains on either side.

"I’ll be back." With a tired voice, she looked up at Ian on horseback before striding away. She didn’t forget to let out a quiet sigh as she went.

Ian turned his horse’s head slightly, then stopped in front of the crumbling fortress wall.

Neigh—

With a deep, almost predatory breath, the black horse bent its legs and sank into a crouch, lowering its head to the ground. Its crimson eyes flared with hunger.

"Just a little longer. Stay calm," Ian muttered, running his fingers through the creature’s stiff mane before retrieving a metal container from his pocket dimension with his left hand.

Lucia, perched lightly on the horse’s back, slid down with practiced ease, catching the container in one fluid motion. Letting go of the handle, Ian turned his head to the right.

Woosh.

A dry, lukewarm wind swept across his face. Beneath the murky, dust-laden darkness—like the dim glow of dawn—the distant figure of Diana disappeared into the ruins, while the resting Wolves scattered across the field lay still.

They didn’t look much different from Ian or Lucia. Some hung limply over their saddles, others slumped against their beasts, catching their breath. Faint waves of magic shimmered off the surface of their iron masks, like exhaled mist—the tainted magic being absorbed and expelled through the circuits embedded in them.

A few of them had already begun pulling food from their saddlebags. The Wolves' iron masks opened at the lower half, allowing them to eat without having to fully remove them. Regardless, they remained silent. That silence alone was proof of how grueling their march had been.

No surprise. Even my back is aching.

From the moment they decided against walking along the edges of the rift, this outcome had been inevitable. The Wolves had been marching straight through the heart of the demonic realm. And they weren’t even moving fast.

If they were only cavalry, it would be one thing, but with supply wagons in tow, their pace was inevitably slower. Sir Valten had compensated for their lack of speed with time instead. The hourglass showed they'd marched relentlessly for over a day, with breaks never exceeding five hours.

This has been going on for more than a week. It proved the Wolves possessed abilities far surpassing those of ordinary humans.

— How dreadful? I didn’t think it would be this boring.

Their uninterrupted advance was only possible due to a complete absence of ambushes. And it wasn’t hard to guess why.

The warhorses, already monstrous, exuded an unnatural, oppressive presence. With dozens of them traveling together, even the creatures of the demonic realm kept their distance.

So much for the constant life-or-death battles I imagined. It’s anticlimactic.

Still, the only one truly bothered by this lack of action was the fragment of an unknown ancient god living within Ian’s familiar.

"That’s too bad, Yog. I’m actually enjoying this," Lucia murmured, chewing on an unfamiliar piece of jerky they had received from Drag Velga. She casually extended another strip toward Ian’s thigh.

Ian accepted it and turned to look at her as she continued, "I think we’ve entered what used to be the Empire’s eastern territories."

"If I’m right, this should be the path leading into the Du Chagon Hills," Lucia added with a casual shrug.

— And once again, you’re the only one having fun with your stories.

Before Ian could respond, Yog muttered.

Lucia’s lips curled up slightly. "But this was one of the most famous battlefields of the War Era. It was here that they held back the demon’s offense and laid the groundwork for a counterattack."

Her gaze shifted toward the weathered remnants of fortress walls, the blackened earth, and the gray ridges fading into the distance beyond the darkness. "It’s a place I’d only read about in history books. Though it would be more fitting to call it the Black Hills now."

Yog didn’t bother responding this time.

Ian, still chewing on the tough and salty jerky, asked, “What did you see this time to figure that out? These ruins?”

Lucia casually nodded.

Of course.

Hearing the approaching footsteps of Diana behind them, he let out a chuckle. During their journey, Lucia started recognizing ruins and abandoned cities by name. With no pressing need to stay on high alert, she had been sifting through her memories of old books, recalling details of places they passed.

"Once we cross these hills, we’ll reach Sol Bryn. Just a few more days of travel left." Lucia added before tilting her head up toward the sky. "The sky seems a little more ominous, too."

Ian followed her gaze lazily, then suddenly narrowed his eyes. "A little?"

The sky above them rippled with colors—deep indigo blending into violet, crimson streaks twisting into dark, bruised shades of red.

Beyond the darkness, the outer edges of the sky dulled into ashen hues, but directly overhead, the colors stood out in vivid contrast.

— Oh? You didn’t notice this? This is the most interesting thing I’ve seen today.

Contrary to Yog’s whisper, Lucia tilted her head in confusion. "What’s so interesting? Did something change?"

"You seriously don’t see that?" Ian didn’t take his eyes off the sky as he asked the question.

Lucia looked up as well, murmuring, "It looks like there’s some purple and red shifting around."

That’s when it hit Ian—Lucia couldn’t fully distinguish all the colors in the sky. His brow twitched slightly at the realization.

"What are you two staring at?" Diana’s voice cut in as she approached, her arms full of bone fragments meant for the horse.

Ian didn’t even glance at her. Instead, he gestured toward the sky with a tilt of his chin. "How does it look to you?"

Diana tilted her head, then glanced up. A moment later, her voice came from behind her mask. "It’s purplish? And some navy?"

"That’s all you see?"

"What’s with the interrogation—wait." Diana’s voice lowered as she turned to Ian. "You can see the full spectrum of chaos, can’t you?"

"And what if I do?"

"The Lion once mentioned something similar."

"Ah, right."

A faint smile crossed Ian’s lips. He was now certain it was due to the bead of chaos essence he carried within him.

Maybe that vision I saw last time triggered it.

Regardless, this change hadn’t been there during their last rest. It was a sure sign that they were getting closer to the battlefield.

"So that’s why Sir Valten said that," Diana muttered as she resumed walking, keeping a wary eye on the black horse, which had been staring at her intensely for a while now.

"What did he say?"

"He’s cutting rest time in half. He also wants us to move faster." Diana came to a stop in front of the black horse and dumped the bones in front of it.

As soon as the pile hit the ground, the beast lifted its head, its red eyes gleaming hungrily. Diana recoiled in disgust and quickly stepped back.

"Is that so?" Ian muttered under his breath as the black horse began devouring the bones.

Crunch, crack.

The sound was sharp, almost satisfying in its crispness—at least for those who found such things pleasant. Diana was not one of those people.

Watching her take a wide detour around the scene, Lucia patted the steed’s flank and remarked, "I don’t understand why you dislike it so much. Sure, it’s aggressive and enjoys bones, but other than that, it’s not all that different from a normal horse."

"An apostle of the gods, saying something like that? You’ve adapted well, Lucifer." Diana scoffed, stepping closer to Lucia.

She cast a disapproving glance at the black horse before continuing, "That thing only listens to you because it sees you as strong. Either that or it recognizes you as a divine apostle."

Her gaze hardened."That beast won’t obey a master it considers weak. If it does, it’s only waiting for the right moment to eat them. Plenty of so-called masters have lost fingers trying to tame one—some even got devoured whole."

"You’re not exactly weak yourself, though. Aren’t you being a little dramatic?" Ian snorted, extending his left hand toward Lucia.

Without missing a beat, she deftly handed him a bottle of liquor. He still didn’t allow Diana to touch the storage box.

"Of course. But that thing clearly doesn’t see it that way." Diana accepted the jerky Lucia offered, immediately biting off a piece and chewing it over. "I can feel it watching me, waiting for an opening. The moment I let my guard down, it'll tear me apart."

Maybe it's just noticed that you are way more paranoid than necessary, Thinking, Ian brought the bottle to his lips without a word. Diana’s power struggle with the horse wasn’t really his concern.

That was when Lucia asked, "Sir Ian, why don’t give it a name?"

Ian shifted his eyes to glance down at the beast.

Lucia continued, stroking its rough, bristly hide. "It’s already accepted you as its master. And I doubt His Highness intends to take it back."