I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

Chapter 126

Amid the darkness, dark crimson eyes glowed silently. Gradually, the surroundings brightened softly. A crimson light source spread instantly along the edges of the massive pupils.

Throughout the vast interior, devoid of a single pillar, mounds of bones piled up like small hills came into view. This underground cavern, with no visible exit, was a dragon’s tomb. However, not all the dragons here had found eternal rest. On the contrary, some remained alive, trapped in eternal torment.

"...."

In the middle of a towering cliff-like wall, the glowing eyes became clearer with each breath. Crimson magic illuminated the entire dragon’s body. Huge metal stakes pierced through the center of its chest and abdomen, embedding it into the wall.

Each of its wings had two stakes deeply driven into them. Thick metal rings connected to the wall bound its neck and tail, restricting any significant movement. The surface of the stakes and rings, inscribed with dense incantations, shimmered with crimson magic. This dragon was both a prisoner and the guardian of the tomb.

The dragon raised its head. Debris cascaded down from its head. Its gaze turned to the far end of the cavern, where a massive golden incantation glowed brightly. At the center, a human clad in white robes appeared. The crimson eyes narrowed slightly.

—It’s been a long time...

A deep, low thought echoed, simultaneously gentle. The human pulled back their hood, revealing faded blonde hair and a face so white it seemed to glow in the darkness. Meeting the dragon’s gaze, Archeas smiled faintly.

"Yes, it has been a long time."

—You haven’t visited in a while... Are you feeling lonely at last? Regardless, it’s good to see you... Faded gold....

"I feel the same. But today... I haven’t come to see you."

Archeas moved its step. Golden magic flew beneath the hem of its robe, and its body glided across the cavern. Archeas stopped in a space and gestured with its hand. A huge golden magic appeared in the air, and a mound of bones silently poured out. The bones settled without scattering or collapsing, forming a small hill like the surrounding others. The deep and low thought spread.

—So there was still one of our kind left on the continent... I recognize these… remnants... Tahumrit, was it...?

"The blue dragon, blinded by madness, has finally found rest...." Archeas murmured.

—I see, so it is... And now, it’s just the two of us again... Faded gold....

The dragon let out a low laugh.

—It seems Tahumrit didn’t go to rest willingly... I can feel your pain and exhaustion, Archeas... But it’s strange... You don’t seem too displeased despite that...

Archeas did not respond, simply gazing at its fellow dragon condemned to eternal punishment. The thought continued.

—Why is that? Is it because you walked the outside world in your true form for the first time in ages... Or because the memories of mercilessly taking the lives of our kin have stirred your blood? Or... perhaps a new mortal has caught your eye...?

A faint smile finally appeared on Archeas’s lips.

"I am pleased that your insight remains sharp. Rakhmah, the last of my kin left on the continent...."

Speaking in a soft tone that could either be mocking or sincere, Archeas turned to the dragon.

"Your question is the answer... There’s no need to explain further."

Golden light trailed from its robe as Archeas crossed the cavern again. Rakhmah chuckled softly.

—You still love without hope of reciprocation... But because of that, someday... you will come to understand me...

Archeas stepped into the now dull incantation. Without looking at Rakhmah, Archeas muttered.

"Do not harbor vain hopes. Even if my soul were to be tainted by madness, I would never claim to be a God."

—Great love inevitably begets great hatred... Perhaps the hatred you will birth might be greater than anyone else’s...

The crimson eyes flickered softly with the thought.

—Even so... I hope to see you again in your current form...

The incantation glowed brilliantly. Archeas disappeared beyond the light.

"...."

The dragon’s glowing eyes, watching the dispersing light, gradually settled into silence.

—You have found a new agent... Faded gold....

Swoosh—

Magic rippled through the dragon’s entire body. The more it surged, the brighter the incantations engraved on the stakes and shackles glowed, inflicting even greater pain. But it did not stop. The crimson magic spread like a spider web across the entire wall.

Over the long years, the chaos of the outside world had caused small cracks in the incantations surrounding this deep underground tomb. Though too small to affect the whole, the ancient dragon who once dreamed of defying the heavens extended a small touch beyond these gaps.

Just as the ancient gods of the void did, it awaited a follower who would hear and accept its whispers. Emitting magic like an oracle, it laughed as if savoring the pain that pierced its heart.

—One of the two will end up tasting the sorrow of losing an agent once again...

The cavern’s glow faded. In the deep underground, where even the gaze of the gods could not reach, the dragon dreaming of defiance closed its eyes once more.

***

It had been three days since they entered La Drin. The weather felt warmer, not just because they had grown accustomed to the northern cold. Spring was arriving.

Not that the scenery reflects it.

Ian thought as he chewed on jerky, leaning back in his chair and gazing at the gray sky and barren hills. It was a relatively peaceful sight today. The faint smoke in the distance was the only visible sign of tragedy.

Trude’s words about La Drin’s downfall had proven accurate. All the outposts leading to the north had become deserted. Plundered and abandoned villages, corpses nailed to stakes or discarded haphazardly, crows and rats swarming over them.

At night, vengeful undead haunted the fields and scavenging monsters. The kingdom of La Drin was exactly as Ian remembered from the game.

Now that I’ve gone through the north first and come down, the timing finally matches up...

A war of chaos, destruction, death, and plunder where no one but the corrupters ever truly won. Yet, their journey through it had been unexpectedly peaceful. Once they started moving, Charlotte did not rush or show anxiety.

After Ian’s return and the stability he brought, she seemed to have sorted out her thoughts. Perhaps she simply trusted that Ian would save Thesa. Ian did not bother to correct her or reveal his own doubts, as it wouldn’t change anything. The insignificant border monsters were no match for the beastfolk warrior who could easily cut through even the northern creatures.

Despite not being in perfect condition, Charlotte handled them effortlessly. The same went for Ian. The local monsters were not even a warm-up for him.

In the game, the local mobs didn’t get annoying until Chapter Three. Now, even the minions...

Ian thought, chewing on his jerky, and noticed Charlotte looking back at him from the driver’s seat.

"Jerky?" He offered the jerky in his hand.

Charlotte took the jerky calmly as she tilted her head.

"There seems to be trouble beyond the hill, Ian."

"...?"

"Screams and shouts. It sounds like a fight."

"Oh, really...."

It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Ian leaned over to avoid blocking his view. The path over the barren hill remained quiet for now; he couldn’t hear anything yet.

"Keep going. Whatever it is, we have to pass through, anyway."

"Understood."

Charlotte answered calmly and faced forward again. Ian fixed his gaze on the hill. Shortly, he heard the faint sound of urgent hoofbeats and the rattling of a carriage.

Soon, a carriage appeared over the hill. It was an old, rickety wagon pulled by a scrawny horse. A terrified woman sat in the driver’s seat, and a man awkwardly holding a sword and shield was visible in the cargo area. Several mounted riders quickly surrounded the wagon. Unlike the couple, these riders were well-armed.

"... Is it a raid?" Charlotte growled quietly.

Ian nodded, unsurprised. The kingdom of La Drin was collapsing. Not only mercenaries, but soldiers were turning to banditry. And corrupters hiding everywhere were probably seizing the opportunity to expand their power. They had no use for the common folk.

Come to think of it, several side quests started like this.

"Saving them would be difficult," Charlotte added while Ian was lost in thought.

They were still quite far from the top of the hill. Even if they ran at full speed, they would likely arrive too late.

"We can at least get revenge for them," Ian replied, leaping onto the carriage roof.

Even without a pretext, those bandits wouldn’t just let them pass.

"Argh...!"

In the meantime, the man in the wagon screamed as a bandit jumped in and struck his shoulder with a sword. The man dropped his shield, and the bandit drove the sword deep into his chest.

"Hon, honey—!"

A woman in the driver’s seat cried out. The bandit tossed the man out of the wagon and walked over to her, grabbing her by the hair and yanking the reins. The wagon came to a stop. But Ian was no longer looking at the wagon.

He focused on the bandits instead.

"...."

"...."

The other two mounted bandits trailing the wagon gazed at them. They exchanged glances and then grabbed crossbows from their saddles, spurring their horses forward.

Sticking to the basics, I see...

Drawing his sword, Ian moved to a lower position right behind the driver’s seat. He stomped lightly on the roof, testing its sturdiness. The double-layered wooden roof was solid; it wouldn’t collapse unless he jumped with full force.

Just as gray magic was finally flickering in his eyes, the bandits fired their crossbows while aiming at the wagon. Charlotte quickly steered the wagon to the side, causing the bolts aimed at the horse to embed in the wagon’s side instead. The bandits, seemingly satisfied with that, returned their crossbows to the saddle and drew their swords.

"Protect the horse. Follow slowly."

Without blinking, Ian observed the approaching bandits.

Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop—

Waiting patiently, Ian leaped before the bandits could reach the wagon. The wind propelled him forward.

"Gah?!"

The bandit’s eyes widened in shock, not expecting Ian to charge at him like this. But by then, Ian’s sword was already inches from the bandit’s head.

Crunch–

The Northern Warrior’s Longsword cleaved the bandit’s head down to his chest. The impact pushed the bandit’s body backward. Ian, who had already crouched, kicked the bandit’s chest with all his might. It was the same move he had practiced countless times against giants at the Bellium Fortress.

Thud–-

In an instant, a gust of wind slammed the bandit’s corpse into the ground. While not as strong as when blessed with the Blessing of Battle, it was enough to counter the charging momentum. Ian landed on the horse. Blood sprayed into the air.

"What the hell, that’s insane...?!"

The remaining bandit, looking between his fallen comrade and Ian, who had effortlessly mounted the horse, turned his horse to flee. Ian turned his horse and swiftly pursued. His eyes glowed gray, and the wind swirled around him and his horse. The distance between him and the fleeing bandit closed rapidly.

"Fuck, don’t come closer— Don’t...!"

The bandit shouted, glancing back, only to see Ian standing on the saddle of his galloping horse. He gasped. In the next moment, Ian leaped, cutting through the air as if unaffected by the wind.

Slash!

The bandit twisted his body, but it only increased his pain. Ian’s sword, which had aimed for his head, struck his neck instead, slicing deeply down to his abdomen. The chain mail and leather pauldrons offered no resistance to Ian’s Wind Blade.

"Guh... urgh...."

Unable to die immediately, the bandit made a gurgling noise as blood spurted from his mouth. Blood sprayed from his severed torso as well. Before his entrails could spill out, Ian grabbed his hair and flung him aside.

Ian, now on the bandit’s saddle, glanced at his slowly ascending wagon and whipped the reins. On top of the wagon, the last bandit was yelling toward the hill while his comrades lay dead.

The woman in the driver’s seat had been beaten and was unconscious, her face a mess. The bandit, looking terrified, aimed his reloaded crossbow at Ian. Despite his fear, his aim was true.

Whoosh.

The bolt flew toward the horse. Ian leaned forward, swinging his arm simultaneously.

Clang!

Ian deflected the bolt, causing the bandit’s eyes to widen in disbelief.

The bandit’s mouth formed the words, "Impossible."