I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

After leaving the forest, the group climbed a hill along the road. They stopped when they reached the top of the hill.

"Oh, Lu Solar..." Philip sighed; his gaze was fixed on the village below, which had now become ashes.

"...I didn’t expect such a mess to appear so suddenly," said Ian.

Ian drove his horse forward, muttering under his breath. His eyes scanned the remains of burned or collapsed buildings in the village. It was a small, insignificant village that might have housed a hundred people at most.

"Could it have been an attack by a band of thieves? Or maybe the pack of wolves we encountered might be responsible." Philip spoke in a subdued voice.

"Wolves wouldn’t start a fire," Ian replied indifferently.

“So, do you think thieves are responsible for this mess?" Philip turned to look at him.

"Well…," replied Ian.

"If that’s the case, it’s unforgivable," Mev interjected before Ian could say anything.

"To trample the homes of the people like this." Her voice carried a hint of anger.

Getting angry so suddenly, Thought Ian.

Ian, glancing at her, realized she was truly infuriated. After all, she was a paladin who sincerely pursued justice and honor. In this dark age, that meant inevitably getting entangled in all sorts of dirty situations, like now. Probably in the game, she had wasted time on such matters and ultimately failed to find the dark mage.

"Are you suggesting we investigate what happened?" Despite his inner thoughts, Ian’s mouth twitched into a slight smile.

Ian had been hoping for a quest. There was no reason to stop her. No reason to worry about wasting time.

"Of course, if possible..." Mev nodded her head just as Philip urgently interjected, "Please reconsider, my lord."

"What did you say, Philip?" Mev looked at him as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

"I deeply feel sorry about the tragedy that has befallen this village. But before us lies a critical issue concerning the security of the kingdom,” said Philip.

‘This guy always throws cold water on things at times like this.’ Ian’s eyebrows involuntarily furrowed.

"There isn’t much time left. If you fail to eradicate the darkness engulfing the kingdom, next time it might not be just a village but the entire kingdom turning to ashes." Despite sweating under their gaze, Philip firmly finished his point.

"...You’re right, Philip." Eventually, Mev responded.

Ian clicked his tongue internally.

"But passing by such a catastrophe is not something a knight of the kingdom and an apostle of Tir En can do." Mev turned her gaze back to the village, her voice steady and unwavering. Ian’s expression softened.

A true knight of honor indeed, thought Ian.

"If that is your wish, my lord... Just please don’t spend too much time. The sun will set soon." Philip, at a loss for words, bowed his head.

"Understood. I’ll bear your advice in mind," Mev replied.

"Don’t worry about time." It was then that Ian spoke up.

"...?" Philip and Mev turned to look at him.

Ian looked directly into Philip’s eyes and added, "It seems like we’ll find out soon enough."

At his cool gaze, Philip flinched.

"Do you have a plan in mind?" Mev asked.

"Nothing special," Ian replied in a gentler tone, extending his hand. He continued, "We’ll just have to see for ourselves."

"Ourselves...?" Mev asked.

Mev’s gaze followed the direction Ian’s hand pointed. Beyond the ashes, near the road on the opposite side of the village. Dimly, she saw wriggling shapes in the desolation, similar in color to the barren land. As Ian had said, they were people.

"I can’t believe you found that," Mev exclaimed in surprise.

"Four armed men. Three are digging in the ground, one is by the roadside. Something is laid out beside them. Looks like a body." said Ian, looking calmly at the figures.

It was a suspicious situation indeed.

"They are burying the bodies. Are they the culprits?" Mev asked in a cold voice.

"I can’t be sure." Ian shrugged and added, "If we catch and interrogate them, we’ll find out what happened in the village."

"...Alright." Mev nodded grimly and lowered her visor with a clang.

"I’ll leave the questioning to you." Mev spurred her horse and charged off.

"Well, alright then," Ian replied calmly, watching the departing knight.

"You always have a plan, sir. My thoughts were short-sighted." Philip’s respectful voice followed.

‘Oh, this also creates some quality time with this guy.’ Ian looked down at Philip. His shoulders tensed under Ian’s cool gaze.

"If you keep interrupting when I’m talking, you might find yourself shorter by a head, Philip," said Ian.

"Ha, another one of your scary jokes…." Philip forced a smile.

“Shall I start by shortening your tongue?" Ian replied.

Philip’s mouth snapped shut.

"I’m going ahead. Follow me." Ian adjusted his horse’s reins.

"You’re going to chase after them now?" Philip asked.

"If I’m late, they might all end up dead at the hands of Sir Riurel," answered Ian.

Fools of the Dark Age always seem to excel in hastening their ends, Ian mused.

"Then shall I also ride along—" Philip could not continue his sentence.

Ian didn’t wait to hear more and galloped away.

***

The three men were busy with their tasks. One was digging with an old shovel, another assisting with a dagger, and the last was stomping down the earth around a pit. They had different roles, but each wore a similarly grim expression.

"Do it properly, you fools." The last man, the leader of the group named Miguel, scolded them. He had a beard and a scar on his face as if mauled by a bear, and a crossbow slung over his shoulder.

"It’s taking too long just to dig six graves. Hurry up, the sun is setting." Miguel glanced at the bodies lying beside the pit.

"...." The men’s faces crumpled further, but no one argued. One of the pits had been dug by Miguel alone, and even more quickly and perfectly than any of them.

"Don’t rush it, though. Remember what I said? I had a bad dream last night,” Miguel nagged.

The men sighed and began to move, unwillingly. Miguel clicked his tongue as he watched them, clearly seeing their internal complaints about the superstition. This was proof that they were inexperienced. Veterans did not take omens and superstitions lightly. Although Miguel was particularly superstitious.

“My fate, having to lead such fools…” Miguel’s muttering trailed off as he perked up his ears. He felt like he heard the sound of horse hooves. It wasn’t a mistake. Clutching his crossbow, he turned toward the sound coming from the village. It was distant, but identifying the source wasn’t difficult.

"...!" A horse galloping fiercely. A knight in shining armor on top, and a glowing blue sword. Everything was in plain sight.

"Damn it..." Miguel couldn’t help but sigh.

"What’s wrong this time? We’re doing it right.”

"That doesn’t seem to be directed at us, does it? Uh...?"

The subordinates, who had been digging, followed Miguel’s gaze, momentarily confused.

"That, that, could it be?"

"A knight...? Why suddenly?"

They were too stunned. Seeing a knight clutching a blue-glowing sword, charging against the sunset, was surreal.

"...It seems we’re fucked." Miguel was quick to grasp the situation. He immediately aimed his crossbow forward and shouted.

"Everyone, grab whatever weapon you can! Now!" Miguel ordered.

"Are you crazy, captain? We should run!" replied one of the subordinates.

"How? Don’t talk nonsense, just do as I say, you fools!" said Miguel.

Finally, the subordinates awkwardly picked up their crossbows and bows.

"Aim at the horse! And don’t shoot unless I say so!" Miguel yelled at the subordinates who were shaking with fear.

As they got into position, the knight’s voice thundered. "Drop your weapons and kneel!"

Before they could react to the fact that it was a woman’s voice, Miguel shouted back, turning towards the knight. "Give us a reason! If not, we have no choice but to act!"

At that moment, the knight’s gender was irrelevant. Self-proclaimed knights were plentiful, but a real knight was like a natural disaster to rogues and mercenaries. A knight’s mercy extended only to common folk, not to them.

And to Miguel, this person was undoubtedly a real knight. If they fought, they would surely die. But they couldn’t just flee recklessly. Running would be like confessing guilt, especially next to the ashes and corpses of the devastated village.

"Please stop! We’ve committed no crime!" Miguel cried out.

If they didn’t want to be turned upside down, they had to appear confident. So far, everything was going according to plan.

"Ah...!" one of the subordinates gasped in fear.

The problem arose elsewhere. As the sound of hooves grew louder, one of the subordinates, overwhelmed by the pressure, couldn’t hold back any longer.

Woosh!

A familiar sound followed. The crossbow had been fired.

"...!" Miguel’s eyes widened in disbelief.

The bolt, incredibly accurate, flew toward the horse. And even more incredibly, the knight deflected the small, fast bolt with her sword.

Crack!

And she did it effortlessly.

"What kind of monster is that...!" said the subordinate.

The one who had shot the crossbow was aghast, throwing it away as he stood up.

"I’m getting out of here! This is madness!" The subordinate started to run.

“Stop right there, you stupid—!" Miguel, regaining his senses, turned around. Before he could finish…

Flash— Whoosh—!

A blue flash burst from behind. In a blink, the flash swept across the back of the fleeing man and disappeared. What remained was a severed torso, spraying blood and entrails, soaring into the air.

Thud.

And amidst all this, the lower half of the body collapsed after a few more steps. The remaining two subordinates stood frozen, pale with shock.

"We’re doomed, damn it...." Miguel muttered under his breath, not feeling a shred of sorrow for the dead man. On the contrary, he wished he could resurrect him just to kill him himself. Ignoring orders and attempting to flee, abandoning his comrades.

"Drop your weapons and kneel!" The command of the knight struck like a thunderclap.

"Damn it." Miguel knew his only option was to surrender. He quickly knelt.

"If she doesn’t stop even now..." Miguel discreetly fiddled with something at his ankle.

Like many, he had a last resort for survival. It wouldn’t kill a knight, but it might give him a chance to escape. Miguel listened intently to the sound of hooves, holding his breath. Fortunately, the worst didn’t happen. The knight’s charge slowed down and eventually stopped in front of him. A crisis was averted for now.

"...." However, he couldn’t even sigh in relief yet. The knight’s sword was still in hand, its blue aurora hovering above his head, a chill brushing his neck.

"I, I understand it looks suspicious, my lord." Miguel managed to speak. He continued, "But we are innocent. Give us a moment, and I can explain everything."

"I will hear your words later." The knight’s voice was icy, clearly unconvinced. The knight went on, "An interrogation specialist will arrive soon."

"A, a specialist, you say?!" Miguel’s head shot up.

"No questions allowed," said the knight.

A cold intent pierced Miguel from behind the knight’s visor.

"Yes...!" Miguel quickly lowered his head again, closing his eyes tightly. As another set of hooves approached, his mind reeled. An interrogation specialist usually meant a specialist in torture. They could make up false confessions, and even if he survived, he’d likely live the rest of his life crippled.

Should I go for it? Risk it now? Miguel’s fingers twitched as the dream from last night flashed through his mind. The pursuing reaper, the river of the dead he had encountered after fleeing, and a boat floating just out of reach.

How can I get on that boat? Risk it? Endure it? Damn it, Lu Logis. As Miguel wrestled with his thoughts, the sound of hooves drew nearer. He cautiously raised his head. The figure of a reaper on a fine steed slowly came into view. Past the grey greaves and leather armor, and finally to the face.

"I, Ian...?" Miguel’s eyes widened, and he continued, "Ian Hope? Is that you?"

"...." The man, Ian, finally turned his gaze to Miguel.

They exchanged looks, but that was it. Ian, slightly raising an eyebrow, came to a stop beside Mev without responding.

"It’s me, Miguel! The hunter, Miguel! The mercenary, you know!" Miguel hastily added. He went on, "We used to see each other often in Valks. Especially at the tavern!"

By now, the knight, Mev, also turned her attention to Ian.

"Do you know him?" Mev asked.

"His face, maybe." Ian shrugged. It was a tepid response.

"Ah, you recognized me, thank goodness." Miguel didn’t care.

It wasn’t a reaper, but a boat! He realized his fate was in Ian’s hands. He remembered Ian quite clearly, especially how those who tried to trick or provoke Ian had ended up.

"Are you the specialist the knight mentioned?" Miguel asked as politely as he could.

"Perhaps," Ian replied nonchalantly.

"Then it’s a stroke of luck." Miguel nodded, looking up at Ian with determination. He continued, "I’ll answer whatever you ask. It’s up to you to judge the truth. You see through people, don’t you?"

"Hmm...?" A flicker of interest appeared in Ian’s eyes.

Ian was genuinely impressed. He had been ready to pull out Miguel’s nails if Miguel had tried to be overly friendly. But Miguel had prostrated himself willingly. Well, he wasn’t clueless before, either.

"What happened to the village?" Ian asked, curling the corner of his lips.