I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 26

Woosh.

A series of bright red fireballs erupted around Ian. The fireballs barely formed before dangerously shooting forward.

Boom! Screech!

Four fireballs consecutively collided with a specter, causing it to explode. The specter evaporated with a scream.

Bang!

The two that missed the specter struck detritus. The front part of it caved in, and bone fragments scattered in all directions, but the dripping fragments quickly filled the missing spot again. However, regardless,

"...."

"This can't be..."

Philip and Miguel were staring at Ian with their eyes wide open. Their gazes were filled with astonishment and disbelief.

It was, perhaps, a natural reaction. After all, they could never have imagined Ian as a mage in their wildest dreams.

"Are you done gawking? Pull yourselves together, you bastards!" Ian added calmly, curling the corners of his mouth as he turned forward. Using magic had been unexpectedly quite refreshing for him.

"Might as well use it properly if I'm going to use it," Ian muttered as he leaped forward, clutching a fist-sized fireball in his left hand.

Crack! Boom!

An explosion occurred, not knowing how many there had been. From that explosion, a ghoul knight was shattered into pieces, and the surrounding skeletons were scattered.

Now I understand everything, Mev mused.

Watching Ian's back as he dashed through, Mev recalled the whispers of the dark mage about the red outcast. Mev pondered why the thought that Ian might be the one had never crossed her mind.

She had dismissed the idea due to his appearance not fitting the bill. However, reflecting on it, Ian's vast knowledge, acute insight, discernment, and notably his cautious, secretive demeanor were indicative of a mage's qualities. Indeed, these traits now seemed to point unmistakably to his identity.

Of course, mages were entities closest to madness, carrying all sorts of sinister rumors and tales. Yet, Mev's trust was based on her observations and experiences, not such rumors. She even felt a bit relieved that the red mage she had resolved to find turned out to be Ian.

I'm going to owe him even more debt now, thought Mev.

In truth, Mev was already in debt. She had even been prepared to use up all her holy power, but thanks to Ian, their advance had significantly quickened, eliminating the need to block the detritus desperately. Its pace of advancement was much faster than it appeared, but not so fast that it could catch up with their running.

Screech... Screech.

Mev's current focus was solely on the wrathful specter that intermittently appeared and vanished. Its avoidance of their group for some time left uncertain whether Ian's strikes had been lethal. The entity, rather than laughing, now produced a disturbing sound of breathing as it hovered nearby. Mev was convinced it would soon resume its attack, given that it still followed them. She maintained a composed exterior as she moved, aiming to catch the specter off-guard. Her anticipation for the opportune moment was met with little delay.

Screech.

The sound of breathing echoed above Mev’s head.

Mev, who had been gripping her sword tightly, released the blade and caught the falling hilt, slicing upward in a swift motion. With a flash, the divine power traced a blue line. The line pierced through the specter vertically, making it drop its hands that had been covering its face.

Screech...

A grotesque skull with disheveled hair split in two with a scream, eventually turning into a handful of ash.

"I've dealt with the specter, Ian!" Mev shouted.

Ian, who had been scanning the surroundings while running, turned to look at her.

"Then from now on, don't lose sight of me! We're about to come to the crossroads!" Ian yelled out.

"A crossroads...? Understood!" Mev responded, her head tilting in puzzlement. Ian had spoken as though he had been to this place before, leaving Mev to wonder if this was yet another of the many mysteries a magician held. However, her burgeoning curiosity did not last long.

That was because the ghoul knight Ian had struck had captured her attention. Ian hadn't even glanced back at the ghoul he had killed. However, she found herself unable to simply walk past the ghoul knight, whose head was crushed and scattered.

Could it be...? Mev thought.

The armor on the ghoul was strikingly familiar, mirroring that of the kingdom's royal knights. The memory of the necklace Ian had found at the foot of the stairs flickered through her mind, bringing with it ominous thoughts she had striven to suppress.

Could it be...? Mev thought again.

Mev halted and knelt down. Her trembling hands reached out to the corpse, touching the deer antler emblem engraved on the armor's seam. In a frantic search through the body, her fingers eventually closed around a broken nameplate. With eyes trembling, Mev read the name inscribed there and finally shook her head. It was not Vernon.

"Ha... Haha." A sigh, whether of relief or something else, slipped from her lips. Just then, the essence bead within her suddenly unleashed magic. Mev, on the verge of summoning holy power, paused. This wasn't the work of a dark mage. It was a strange yet familiar, contradictory sensation from another consciousness.

"...?!" Mev's head snapped to the left, her eyes wide open. She was met with the purple glow of countless undead eyes. Something beyond them, resonating with the essence bead, seemed to be calling out to her.

"...Sir! Sir Riurel! Mev!" Ian's shout, imbued with magic, just barely roused Mev's awareness. Blinking, she turned her head toward the voice's origin on the right. The ground was littered with undead remains, and Philip and Miguel were dashing across them.

Ian, with his eyes wide open in the center of the passage, continued to yell, "Be careful!" On instinct, Mev dove and rolled across the ground.

Ssshhh.

A pile of bones spilled onto the spot where she had been sitting. The ghoul knight's corpse was buried and disappeared among them. The Detritus of Death had quietly approached very close.

"My, my lord!" Philip cried out.

Philip and Miguel, realizing the situation late, scrambled in her direction. Rolling on the ground one after another, Mev gasped for breath. Due to the shock or otherwise, her armor, usually like a second skin, felt as heavy as lead.

"My lord...! Are you alright?" Philip was the one who seized her arm, pulling her to her feet.

"Surely not you haven't been injured again—" Miguel, supporting her other arm, looked at her.

Rumble—

A familiar vibration drowned out Miguel’s voice. Philip, Miguel, and Mev's heads almost simultaneously turned toward the source of the vibration. A stone wall was rising in front of the passage where Ian stood.

"Ian—!" Mev's eyes widened.

Ian's figure was soon obscured and disappeared behind the wall with the sudden appearance of dark red ancient letters.

"God damn, this fucking, bullshit...!" As Miguel spat out curses, Philip glanced at Mev.

"My lord! What do we do now?" Philip asked.

After a brief pause, Mev's head turned to the left. Her eyes focused on the only path remaining.

"...Follow me," said Mev

Gripping her sword tightly, as though she might crush it, Mev took a decisive step forward. They were left with no other option but to proceed. Whatever lay ahead, they were determined to face it.

***

“What did she see to act like that?” Staring at the stone wall blocking his path, Ian muttered quietly. Stopping right in front of a crossroad, of all places. Though the situation was baffling, Ian soon shrugged his shoulders. What had happened, had happened. Besides, he figured Mev could survive for quite some time even with Philip and Miguel accompanied.

"...I guess I just need to finish this before it gets too late." Ian turned around without a second thought. Dozens of skeletal knights in tattered armor were staring at him from down the corridor. Now that he was alone, their numbers meant nothing to him.

Swoosh, Thump!

Ian, leaning forward, suddenly burst into action.

Clang!

Blocking a skeletal knight's sword with his mace, Ian let go of the handle without hesitation and sprinted forward. Sarcophagus lined on both sides passed him in a blur. Soon, Ian's gaze fixed on a small platform beyond the burial chamber. A statue of a fairy knight, kneeling with a sword plunged into the ground.

It looks exactly like how it was in the game, Ian mused.

Dodging the skeletal knights, Ian charged toward the statue. Then, taking a proper distance, he leaped.

Creak.

Ian, somersaulting through the air, stepped on the counterweight part of the statue's plunged sword, landing acrobatically. A moment later, the sword sank into the platform below.

Click! Rumble.

As the platform moved backward, stairs leading deeper to the underground were revealed. This was the hidden shortcut. In the game, it was used as an exit after killing the dark mage. The approaching skeletons stopped in their tracks. Their glowing eyes quietly flickered.

I guess this is an invitation, Ian, with a defiant smile, jumped down the stairs.

The stairs went straight then turned. As Ian rounded the corner, one wall disappeared, opening up the view of a vast underground cavern.

Even the King of Agel Lan probably wouldn't know that this place exists, thought Ian.

Descending the stairs along the wall, Ian surveyed his surroundings. Spell circuits stretched far into the distance, and thick pillars rose majestically, resembling a grand temple moved underground.

Indeed, it was. This was a temple where ancient fairies worshiped the God of Death. The altar rising in the center of converging spell circuits was proof. Atop the altar, a broken statue and a giant chair made of various bones were placed. And the one who had corrupted the ruins sat on that chair, cloaked head to toe, covered with flowing magic.

"To come all this way... I must commend your boldness, you red bastard.” A voice sharp as grinding metal echoed. The dark mage slowly rose with streaming purple light from his eyes.

"But here too, don't expect your petty tricks to work...."His leisurely voice suddenly stopped. At the moment the dark mage’s glowing eyes wavered.

Woosh.

Flames, reminiscent of a dragon's breath, engulfed the altar entirely.

Swoosh!

The fire, fierce enough to melt the altar, eventually subsided after a while. Through the haze, Ian, who was extending his left hand, was revealed. Heat shimmered from the essence bead in his grasp.

"Do you not learn?” said Ian.

Having experienced yet still blustering, Ian mockingly murmured.

"You bas...taaaard!" Purple light burst through the smoke covering the altar. The voice continued, "How dare you interrupt me again!"

The dark mage burst through the smoke, his robe tattered, revealing his true form.

"Don't think it will be the same as before! Your crude spells will no longer work on me!" cried out the dark mage.

"Talkative for a half-finished lich." Ian taunted, scanning him.

The dark mage’s appearance was grotesque, with his face and body dried up like a mummy, and extra bony arms protruding from his shoulders. However, he looked rather pitiful compared to Ian's memory. In the game, the dark mage was just bones with six arms and a large essence embedded in his forehead.

"This... you wretched thing!" As if struck where it hurt most, the dark mage raged.

Purple magic began to spread from behind the altar, then was sucked into the magic wand he raised. A massive specter started to form behind him. It was the Summoning of the Dead.

As a mass of spirits with physical forms lunged with open maws, Ian was already dashing toward the altar.

"I will make you fully realize how feeble you are! The endless agony will be gifted thereafter!" The dark mage raised his left hand, imbued with magic power.

Skeletons emerged from the ground as if in a scene from a horror movie, larger and longer than humans. These were the ancient remains of fairies, buried deep beneath the ground. Though surrounded in an instant, Ian's gaze stayed cool and composed.

It seems weaker than I remember. Is it because the transformation isn't complete? thought Ian.

In the game, the dark mage was able to fly, casting various spells and summoning, with complicated patterns. However, as much as he was strong in magic, he was low on health and vulnerable to physical attacks. If met close, it was surprisingly easy to kill him. Now, in this incomplete state, it might be even easier.

"Afraid? To freeze up already is a pity. The fear has just only begun." The dark mage extended his magic wand. All the undead in the hall started rushing toward Ian.

"Right the opposite. You Bastard." Ian's eyes flared red again.

As the essence bead in his grasp spun, numerous fireballs blossomed around him. This was the work of Dancing Flames, a low-level red magic that Ian had only upgraded to level two for its simplicity. Yet, when amplified by the essence bead, there was a significant increase in the number of flames. Despite the disadvantage of being hard to aim precisely, targeting was unnecessary this time. The enemies were everywhere.

Boom.

With a massive explosion, the charging skeletons shattered upon impact with the flames. The air was thick with heat and the fragments of destroyed bones scattered in all directions.

Swoosh!

Ian surged forward through the smoke.

"You think that will stop me?" mocked the dark mage, observing Ian's advance with a sneer. The dark mage brandished his wand, releasing a surge of purple magic. In its path, a barrier of moaning specters materialized. The barrier then exploded into a symphony of wails.

It was right after that Ian threw a fireball toward the ground.

Boom!

The fireball exploded shortly after being cast, and the recoil launched Ian even higher through the smoke.

"What...?!" The dark mage, apparently not anticipating this, made a grating sound.

In the meantime, Ian had leaped over the wall of specters and twirled his body. His eyes flickered with a gray glint. His body, wrapped in wind, spun and then shot like an arrow toward the dark mage. A new mace in Ian's right hand reached for the dark mage’s head. The dark mage, shielding his face with four arms, hastily retreated, but he was not faster than Ian. The wind gathered around the mace and spun fiercely.

Crack!

Two of the dark mage’s bony arms, along with one shoulder, were utterly shattered. "Screee eech!" The dark mage screamed, with his body arching dramatically in the air.

Ian landed gracefully on the altar and rolled, clicking his tongue in disappointment. "Missed it. Damn."