I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 309

Chapter 309

"Yes, something like that."

No wonder he gave me so much land, Ian thought with a quiet chuckle.

It was now clear that the lands weren’t a true reward but rather just territory handed over for the sake of the mission. Archduke Olaf wouldn’t likely object to the Emperor’s decision either. The snowfield region, though officially part of his domain, was an area where his influence barely reached. Plus, the resources from there amounted to little more than furs and firewood.

On top of that, the Emperor probably intended to use Ian to fully integrate the barbarians into the autonomous region.

...Well, being an Emperor isn’t something just anyone can do.

He was adept at claiming credit while also gaining practical advantages. At the same time, the burden placed on Ian was relatively light. The Northern barbarians were fiercely independent by nature. As long as Ian gave them some direction, they would likely manage on their own without his constant oversight. In fact, if he disappeared, they’d probably respect him even more, praising his departure as fitting for a Great Warrior.

Of course, the Emperor wouldn’t be thrilled about that, but now that Ian had an official title, there was no reason not to take full advantage.

"Now I understand why I sent my brother to the North in my dream. I probably told him to seek your help, Agent of the Saint, since you were already there." Seras's voice broke through Ian's thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

He nodded. "Well, that could be the case."

"The problem probably was that my brother couldn’t earn your favor. Or maybe it’s because he doesn’t have a good feeling toward you."

"Or maybe it’s because the front lines will stabilize, leaving no room for the Third Prince to make a name for himself," Ian suggested casually.

Seras paused, her expression shifting before she smiled slightly. "Perhaps. You’re quite confident, Agent of the Saint. You must have something in mind. That’s reassuring, but..."

Her voice grew quieter. "Even so, be careful. My dreams are never wrong."

"I know. Even if I go, I probably won’t be able to prevent the front lines from being breached entirely."

Despite her worried tone, Ian nodded calmly. It didn’t come as a surprise to him. Setting aside the fact that the front lines had completely collapsed in the game, the area was also too vast. There were multiple strongholds like Karlingion, with countless unnamed outposts scattered beyond them. Ian couldn’t possibly defend them all—unless he could somehow split himself into five or six.

"But as long as the key fortresses don’t fall, it can’t be said that the front has entirely collapsed."

Of course, Ian had never experienced the state of the front lines during the time of the erosion. However, according to the strategy guides, there was indeed a way to reach the front lines and stop the erosion. Breaches in the front lines were inevitable, but heading there didn’t necessarily mean certain death. It was still incredibly dangerous, but that had become the norm. If he wanted to survive, he had to throw himself into even greater danger—just as he always had.@@@@

"After all, you don’t know the exact condition of the Northern front during that time, either," Ian said, looking at Seras in the darkness.

She nodded, letting out a low hum. "That’s true... but still."

Her face showed her concern quite clearly. The soft glow of the city lights seeped in through the cracks in the carriage windows, yet Seras seemed unaware that Ian could clearly see her face.

"... When it comes to the North, you surely know better than I do, Agent of the Saint. I’ll set my worries aside, trusting you have a plan," Seras murmured, nodding before adding cautiously, "On that note, may I ask you for one more favor? In the spirit of mutual benefit, of course."

Ian, who had placed the wine bottle on her lap, responded, "Go ahead."

"If you successfully defend against the invasion, could you inform me first about the situation on the front lines afterward?"

"Inform you first, specifically?"

"Yes. I’ll provide you with a messenger hawk. If I learn about the state of the Northern front a bit earlier, it would give me leverage to persuade my brother. And if the situation on the front lines worsens..."

Seras shrugged as she took the wine bottle back. "I might be able to send reinforcements to support you. It won’t be many, but I can deploy them before other fronts demand them."

Now that’s real mutual support. Impressive, Ian thought as he watched Seras drink from the bottle.

After all, now that they had joined forces, he was an essential ally for her ambitions. He was someone she couldn’t afford to lose. However, no quest window appeared. It likely meant this was a situation that hadn’t existed in the game.

"Let’s do that," Ian agreed with a nod. "However, don’t send a hawk. Prepare some other means of communication, something like a magical device. I’m not confident a hawk would survive the harsh Northern winter."

In truth, the real reason was that his pocket dimension couldn't store hawks, but Seras accepted his request without suspicion and nodded.

"Understood. In that case—" She stopped mid-sentence as the carriage slowed down and came to a halt. From outside, Phaden’s voice called out, announcing their arrival.

"... It seems we’ve finally arrived," Seras said with a smile as the carriage continued forward at a slow pace.

Ian nodded. "Take care of your business. I’ll see you later."

"Yes. It should only take about two hours. Please have a meal prepared for Sir Phaden and me. I’d like the honor of being your first guest at the estate."

"... Of course."

Why does she want something so insignificant?

Just as Ian was about to smile, the carriage came to a halt once again. The small window near the driver’s seat opened, and the key was passed back inside.

"We’ve arrived, Agent of the Saint," Phaden announced.

"Thank you for your service," Ian replied, accepting the key before opening the carriage door.

As Ian stepped out, a faint smile played on his lips.

"The down payment is quite impressive...."

Before him stood a three-story mansion with a red roof, surrounded by a neat, well-maintained garden. In the corner, a stable could be seen, and the sounds of horses suggested they had been sent as well. Beyond the estate walls, other rooftops stretched into the distance, indicating that the mansion was in the estate's heart district.

Even more surprising was the presence of four servants waiting outside to greet him.

Ian paused, lifting his gaze to meet Gibson’s eyes. "Are you required to report everything that happens here to someone else?"

The question caused Gibson’s polite smile to falter for a moment. His expression quickly became more serious as he stood straight, his posture firm.

"All stewards are bound by rules and honor, Sir. Protecting the secrets of those we serve and not betraying them is both a fundamental and the most important virtue. I’ve held my position because I have adhered to these principles my entire life."

"Even if the person asking is His Majesty, the Emperor?"

"I am loyal to His Majesty, but right now, the one I serve is you, Sir," Gibson replied.

It was a textbook answer, one Ian could appreciate. Whether it was the truth would become clear over time, but for now, Ian had only wanted to instill some caution.

Nodding in satisfaction, Ian picked up his fork again and continued, "There are only three names you need to remember. Her Highness, Philip, and Elia Meyer."

"I am familiar with Her Highness, but may I ask who the other two are?"

"One is my knight. The other is my goddaughter."

Gibson’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. It was only natural, considering this information hadn’t been made public yet.

Ian continued in a casual tone, "I don’t know when they’ll visit, but treat them as if they were me and take care of them."

"... Of course, Sir. I will keep that in mind. Is there anything else you’d like to request?"

"When my carriage returns, make sure the horses are well-fed and rested. Especially the white one."

"Yes, Sir."

"Do you have any cold-weather gear for the horses here?" Ian asked.

"We should have some in the stables. Though, I’m not sure how much help it will be against the Northern cold," Gibson replied.

"Better than nothing. Prepare it ahead of time. Also, there are some weapons stored in the carriage—bring them up to my bedroom. Be careful with them; some are poisoned."

"As you wish, Sir. I’ll inform you as soon as Her Highness arrives. Enjoy your meal."

With the same politeness he had shown earlier, Gibson bowed and led the servants out of the dining room. As the door closed, Ian leisurely continued eating.

I already like this place...

To think he had gained such a wonderful base in the capital. It was something he couldn’t have imagined in the game. Though it wasn’t given for free, the Emperor’s offer was far from bad for Ian. The North was, after all, the battlefield where he felt most comfortable.

Still, experience had taught him that things didn’t always go according to plan. Even if the front lines were stronger than before, the erosion might be even more intense and dangerous this time. Yet, it remained the most favorable situation for Ian. With the Northern defense forces, the Imperial garrison, and the barbarian army he would gather, their combined strength would be formidable.

...And there's also the Temple of the Brazier.

This time, Ian planned to ask for their help as well. While they would send priests to the front, Ian intended to demand more. Given that they owed him, perhaps even the Saint of the Brazier would lend her strength.

Lucy will remain at the temple, but if Mev is still there...

She wouldn’t ignore his request either. Just the thought of showing her the taste of the Northern winter brought a smile to his face.

On top of that, he’d soon have the Sword of Judgment back in his possession, now reborn as a complete holy relic. He would truly be equipped with the best possible force.

And if that’s still not enough...?

Ian glanced down at the fork in his left hand, then at the golden ring on his finger. It was only for a moment. He let out a chuckle and took a bite of his meat.

Two months is too short.

It wasn’t enough time to complete his mission or to absorb all the knowledge he could at the Great Church. He already had plenty of combat experience, so with that knowledge, he could truly become a paladin on par with the Purifiers. Even if not, Ian wasn’t keen on calling back someone who had just started flying solo.

Besides, even without Philip, the forces on the Northern front would be strong enough. Even if an invasion stronger than what had occurred in the game came, they would be able to fend it off.

And Karha... he’s always had a soft spot for the Northerners.

Ian could count on the Blessing of Battle. Imagining hundreds, if not thousands, of barbarian warriors enveloped in the red divine aura filled him with confidence. Sure, the war cries would be annoying, but the experience points they’d bring in were worth the hassle.

Maybe, after successfully fending off the invasion, he could even level up once or more. By the time he’d sealed all the breaches along the front, he would have gained even more experience and additional quest rewards. And when he returned to the capital, he could demand a fitting, and more than fitting, reward from the Emperor.

... I’m really getting ahead of myself.

Ian’s hand slowed for a moment as he let out another quiet chuckle. The sound of hooves brushed past his ears. Judging by the fact that even he could hear it, they must have arrived at the mansion.

They’re back sooner than expected.

Footsteps neared the dining room not long after he had settled into a more leisurely pace with his meal.

A knock came at the door, followed by Gibson’s voice.

"Sir, Her Highness has returned."

"Let her in."

Gibson opened the door, and behind him stood Seras, holding a bottle of wine, and Phaden, carrying a metal chest in both hands. Seras smiled as she entered the room.

"What a magnificent mansion. Congratulations, Agent of the Saint."