I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy
Chapter 432

Chapter 432

The Wolves, each carrying a heavy bag, moved forward. At the head of the group, Seren also had a bag slung over her shoulder as she strode ahead. Three more bags were tied in a row to the saddle of the warhorse walking beside her.

Might as well be fully geared-up soldiers.

Trailing a bit behind, Ian walked with an indifferent expression. No one in his group was carrying any luggage—except for the black horse beside him, which had several bags strapped to its saddle. They didn’t need to, but still, Ian hadn’t bothered to untie the bags from the saddle either.

After pushing himself too hard in riding the horse, swinging his hammer around, his whole body was aching and creaking. Nothing was broken—he’d be back to normal in a day or two—but whether they had that kind of time was another matter.

Well, the Wolves are only coming with us as far as the outpost anyway. People who need rest should rest.

Murmuring inwardly, Ian turned his head to the right. Beyond the ankle-deep waves of mist, distorted trees were scattered sparsely across the landscape. The tall, conifer-like trees grew denser the farther they stretched into the distance until everything vanished into an unnatural darkness even Ian couldn’t see through.

The Shadowed Forest...

As he stared into the darkness, the image of Inaskurgl from the vision flashed across his mind—especially those dangerously glowing ashen eyes.

That thing was bound to be immensely strong. Yog had dismissed it as a failed attempt at becoming something great, but if it had been truly weak, it wouldn’t have even earned that much of a label. Even with Hyked and the Black Lions on their side, it was likely to be a hard fight.

—You're tense, Friend.

As if reading his thoughts, Yog’s lazy whisper echoed in his mind.

—Don’t worry. I’ll help you. ...Though it seems like I need a bit of rest right now.

I told you not to call me that.

Feeling his thoughts deflate like a popped balloon, Ian let out a silent snort.

The time it’d spent in the pocket dimension with those so-called friends seemed to have worn it out. Still, Ian needed Yog’s help. He had no intention of drawing out the fight with Inaskurgl. From experience, the safest bet against an enemy like that was to go all in and end it quickly.

Ian walked on, quietly organizing the possibilities in his head.

“How about Moro?” Lucia suddenly whispered as she followed behind with Diana.

When Ian turned back, she nodded toward the black steed beside him. “For the horse’s name, I mean.”

“You’re still thinking about that?” Ian let out a relaxed laugh as the black horse snorted as if it understood.

Lucia nodded calmly. “I figured you wouldn’t name it no matter how much time passed.”

You really know me too well now.

Ian clicked his tongue, and Lucia continued, “It was the name of a horse we used to keep in our household. That one also had a glossy black coat—it was a magnificent steed.”

“Don’t remember seeing a fine horse like that.”

“Of course not. By the time you came, it was already dead.” She gave a small shrug. “It was Vernon’s horse.”

Why bring up that name now?

Ian’s brow furrowed slightly as Mev’s younger brother came to mind—the one who’d ultimately fallen to his sister’s blade. However, Lucia’s gaze remained calm.

Eventually, Ian spoke. “Still, isn’t it kind of weird to name it after a dead horse?”

“It’s actually the opposite. Since death has already visited that name once, it’ll take a long time to come again. That’s why names of old horses often get passed down.”

There really is a superstition for everything.

Ian held back a laugh, and Lucia added, “I just brought it up because he reminded me of the horse I knew. But if you don’t like it, Sir Ian—”

“No.” Cutting her off, Ian gave a small nod. “Let’s go with that.”

Just like she said, he didn’t want to spend any more time thinking about it. And honestly, he didn’t trust himself to come up with something better anyway.

“All right. ...You heard that?” Lucia turned to the horse with a soft smile. “Your name is Moro now.”

The black horse—Moro—snorted low, steam curling from its nostrils. Lucia couldn’t quite tell what it meant, but Ian could. He could feel that the horse liked the name—the part of the reason he’d agreed to the name.

“That’s a relief. You look like you’ve cheered up a bit.” Lucia glanced up at Ian’s face as he looked at Moro.

When Ian turned his gaze to her, her eyes softened with a gentle curve. “You looked like you had a lot on your mind.”

So that’s why she brought it up.

Ian let out a soft laugh. “It wasn’t anything serious. Don’t worry.”

“...If you say so. But I doubt it’s possible not to worry.” That was Diana, murmuring in a low, steady voice. Just like Ian earlier, she was staring off into the darkness on their right.

As Ian’s smile slowly faded, Lucia turned to her and asked, “What’s wrong, Diana?”

“Guess you can’t feel it, huh? Lucifer.” Diana looked down into Lucia’s eyes and added, “Something is watching us from beyond.”

Lucia’s eyes widened as she whipped her head toward the other side, but all she saw was the dull haze of gray mist and the twisted trees stretching into the deep dark.

“They’re probably shadow beasts. That’s probably what Ian has been worrying about,” said Diana.

You’re not even close, Ian thought.

Even so, his gaze lingered on the darkness ahead. He couldn’t sense anything watching them. The eerie aura of the demonic realm, mixed with the chaos in the air, was throwing off his senses.

“They’re waiting for us to come in. Inside there, it’s entirely their domain.” Diana added in a hushed, restrained voice, the kind that made it obvious she was regretting this entire decision.

Ian responded without much concern. “Honestly, that’s better. Means they’ll come to us.”

Of course, that was no comfort to Diana. The only one who gave a firm nod was Lucia, her gaze steady.

Not long after, Diana—who had been quietly sighing—suddenly looked ahead. “Don’t tell me. Again?”

This time, Ian sensed it too. A faint rustling sound spread from the distance, like reeds swaying in the wind. It was the footsteps of the shadow beasts.

Krrrk...

Sensing it, Moro let out a sharp snort. It seemed Seren’s horse had picked up on it too. Their pace slowed, and the Wolves, one by one, raised the spears they’d been using like walking sticks.

"Shit. Did it just hide in the forest and start cranking out babies or something?" Diana muttered with a sigh, crouching slightly.

A moment later, Ian’s brow furrowed. The bead of chaos essence had started to hum with a low, eerie vibration.

Fsshhhhh—

Suddenly, the footsteps of the beasts grew louder up ahead. Even their panting breaths became audible. But then, they began retreating—quickly.

Diana’s eyes widened in confusion. Lucia, and even the Wolves ahead, looked just as startled.

Are they running away because of me?

Ian was the only one who furrowed his brow further. As the beasts’ presence faded, the resonance of the essence quieted down too, like it had never stirred in the first place. As if it had deliberately revealed his presence to them.

Yog is always asleep at times like this. If that smug bastard had been awake, it’d probably have some arrogant explanation ready.

Clicking his tongue, Ian gave a slight shrug, brushing the thought aside. Whatever the reason, what mattered was that the beasts had backed off. Truthfully, he didn’t feel like fighting anymore today.

“What the hell was that?”

Despite their confusion, the Wolves resumed their march. They were just as uncertain as the others—just in their own way.

Barely a few minutes passed before the corner of Ian’s lips lifted slightly. “So, they weren’t after us.”

As the group followed the forest’s edge and curved around, a low hill—previously hidden behind the trees—came into view. A still, eerie darkness enveloped the surrounding area. The ash-colored mist that blanketed the ground stopped abruptly at the base, as if blocked by an invisible barrier.

“Sir Ian... is that?” Lucia whispered, eyes narrowing.

Ian nodded. “Yeah. Looks like His Highness did something.”

It wasn’t perfect, but it looked like another barrier—or perhaps a domain—had been set up, likely to keep the shadow beasts out. Since Inaskurgl had probably already sensed them, there was no point in trying to stay hidden now.

“That’s probably the outpost.” Ian’s gaze shifted to the top of the hill.

It must have once been a tall tower. Only about half of it was left, a single shape standing out against the sky.

“It looks quite different from what I imagined,” Lucia murmured.

“It’s the dark fairies’ tower.” The answer came from an unexpected source—Diana.

Narrowing her eyes beneath her visor, she added with a bitter tone, as if spitting the words out. "I heard they built towers near the forest to keep watch and carry out their disgusting rituals. Used monsters as slaves, too. But from the looks of it, it wasn’t enough to stop Inaskurgl."

Ian, however, was thinking something else entirely. If a tower that size had collapsed, it should’ve crumbled entirely. But the lower part still stood, mostly intact. It made no sense—unless the whole thing had been sliced at a slant, which didn’t seem likely.

Then again, this was a world where people could tear open space and drop meteors.

With a shrug, Ian pushed aside his mage-like curiosity.

Whatever the cause, the tower’s position was ideal—far enough from the forest to be safe, but close enough to offer a clear line of sight. Approaching from the opposite ridge would make it difficult to spot from within the forest. It probably hadn’t been part of the domain barrier’s original range, so if this area hadn’t ended up like this, they might have been able to launch a surprise attack before Inaskurgl noticed.

The hum of the bead of chaos essence snapped Ian out of his thoughts. He immediately realized why. At some point, he had stepped out of the fog and onto darkened soil. The chill in the air was the same as what he’d felt near the darkness radiated by the Lions.

Yeah. It’s definitely his territory.

The Wolves began picking up speed just after that. Matching their pace, Ian looked back up at the hill. As the others pushed ahead, the ruined tower came into sharper focus—and at the base of the hill, another group was descending in formation.

“They really were expecting us,” Diana murmured, sounding almost relieved.

They hadn’t been visible from a distance because their dark forms had blended into the surrounding gloom. Only their dim, bluish eyes occasionally shimmered faintly in the shadows.

Their numbers were small, and every one of them was fully armored. Wolves on foot flanked them on both sides, while two priestly figures in hooded cloaks walked at the center of the group. Their robes bore no emblems, and like the others, they were shrouded in the same murky darkness.

Riding at the priests’ inner flanks were two knights on monstrous warhorses—one with a sword and shield, the other gripping a halberd in one hand.

“Then that must be—” Lucia whispered with a breath of awe as her eyes drifted toward the very center of the procession.

There, a step ahead of the rest, rode a man clad in jet-black full plate armor. The warhorse beneath him was just as imposing—massive and dark. It looked less like a mere beast and more like a unicorn, carrying an air of nobility, almost mythical in presence.

But, Ian didn’t spare the steed a glance. What drew his attention was the man’s armor—strikingly similar to what the Purifiers used to wear, especially the large circle engraved at the center of the breastplate.

Except now, the circle that had once gleamed with gold was nothing but pitch black. The helmet, too, had changed. It must’ve once borne a ceremonial crest arcing from temple to temple, but it had been broken clean off, leaving only a pair of jagged, horn-like protrusions.

Yeah. No doubt. The Dark Prince fits him perfectly.

There was no mistaking it—that was Hyked, the former crown prince. Just as Ian had expected, he was likely the one who had tainted this entire region with darkness. The moment their eyes briefly met through the slits of Hyked’s visor, the bead of chaos essence gave off another low hum.

Almost immediately, Hyked and his soldiers came to a halt. Not because their eyes had met—but because Seren’s Wolves, marching at the front, had reached them.

Ian hadn’t matched their pace, so he had fallen quite a bit behind. As the knights leaped dismounted from their horses, Seren and the Wolves halted in unison.

While Ian’s group kept walking, Seren drew her sword from her hip and dropped to one knee. “Victory to the brave prince!”

The Wolves struck their spearheads into the ground as they shouted in unison. “Victory!”

The soldiers across from them responded in kind, striking the ground with their weapons. Hyked then jumped down from his horse and strode forward toward Seren without hesitation. A moment later, his frame vanished behind the Wolves, out of Ian’s line of sight.

“Seren Vikus of the Black Lions. By royal command, I am here to serve—”

Ian could still hear her voice, though. Just as she was about to finish, the soft sound of metal brushing metal reached his ears. Hyked had likely helped her up—perhaps placed a hand on her shoulder, or maybe even embraced her.

“Why’d you stop?” Diana’s voice was barely above a whisper as she nearly bumped into Ian from behind. There were still about ten steps left to reach the tail end of the formation.

However, Ian didn’t need to answer. The two rows of Wolves suddenly stepped aside, parting left and right as they turned to face Ian’s group.

The soldiers who had lined up on the other side also turned their eyes toward them, all gazes converging. Standing at the center, Hyked now stood tall and still, with Seren just beneath him, facing Ian and the others like an attendant.

The silence lasted only a moment.

“Kneel, and present the proper respect.” Seren’s voice rang out—low and solemn, though faintly trembling.

Diana, who had frozen in place, collapsed to her knees as if her strength had given out. However, the words that should have followed never came. Puzzled by the silence, Diana tilted her head slightly—then slowly looked up.

Her eyes soon widened behind her mask, practically tearing open in shock. Because Ian—and even Lucia—were still standing.