I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 293

Though rain didn’t fall, the night was dark. The sky, covered with thick clouds, allowed not a hint of moonlight through. The group, who had stopped their carriage by the roadside, used it as a windbreak while they set up camp around a fire.

"Well... I’ll head in first, Your Highness."

"Rest well. And don’t wear that troubled expression."

After setting up the camp, Sir Phaden was the first to retreat into the carriage.

Ian and Philip took turns on watch since they still had two days to reach Garad, a satellite city near the Empire, and needed to conserve their strength. Phaden had insisted on staying outside, but Seras’s orders overruled him.

Only Phaden, Asme, and Elia were sleeping in the carriage. Despite the chilly weather, Seras had opted to sleep outside, saying it was an experience she couldn’t pass up. In truth, it seemed she was more interested in sitting by the fire with a drink.

He was acting like he’d stay up all night, but the moment his head hit the pillow, he passed out.

Sitting atop the carriage roof with his back to the group, Ian chuckled as he listened to Phaden’s loud snoring from inside. After all, Phaden had handled the aftermath of the assassin attack on his own and had been in the driver’s seat all day—he couldn’t help but be exhausted. Besides, he wasn’t even an apostle of god.

Chewing on some dried jerky, Ian glanced at the group gathered around the campfire. Elia and Asme sat quietly, staring into the flames, while Philip and Seras huddled close, murmuring to each other as they sipped wine from pewter cups.

They say fighting brings people together...

Although he couldn’t hear what they were discussing over Phaden’s snoring, a faint smile crossed Ian’s face again.

The idea of Philip being knighted by Seras didn’t seem like a bad outcome. In that case, there’d be no need to support any other royals or the Order; he’d simply back the princess, which would be advantageous for Philip as well.

Well, he’d handle it himself.

Shrugging, Ian turned his gaze forward again. He had climbed up here to keep the princess and the others from seeing him use his pocket dimension.

Thump-thump—

After setting aside the items he retrieved, he finally pulled out a gemstone adorned with dangling chains.

Ian took a moment to observe the Gray Witch's Gemstone. Metal prongs secured the essence bead jutting out from a ring at its base like claws. The prongs on the gemstone were adjustable, and the surface of the ring had intricate spell circuits etched into it. Five thin chains of varying lengths extended from the ring, each ending in loops of different sizes.

Well, it certainly looks like something made exclusively for mages. What a cumbersome design.

Ian placed the essence bead in the center of his steel gauntlet and wrapped two of the longest chains around the back of his hand, securing them on the opposite side of the ring. He hooked the remaining three loops onto his thumb, middle finger, and ring finger. After adjusting the loops to fit snugly, he clenched and unclenched his fist a few times, nodding in satisfaction.

No issue with wearing it over the steel gauntlet.

A faint aura of magic flickered in Ian’s eyes. Power shimmered across the gemstone’s essence bead, lifting it silently off his palm. Unlike when he used just the essence bead, it didn’t rotate. A soft golden light then glowed between the steel of his gauntlet.

Good, no problems with layered usage.

Dispersing the spell circuit’s magic before a barrier could materialize, Ian chewed on his jerky with satisfaction. This was one of the few areas where reality proved better than the game—dual-wielding equipment like this had been impossible in the game.

As he withdrew his magic, the gemstone dropped back into his palm. Ian clenched and unclenched his fist a few times, then picked up a throwing dagger beside him and lightly tossed it into the air, catching it with ease. The extra weight felt negligible, and he was confident he could still throw daggers with the gemstone equipped.

It makes my hand look a bit cluttered, though...

However, that was hardly a drawback. Ian began tucking the throwing daggers into the empty sheaths on his leather strap, the last being a repeating crossbow.

Thud, click—

Ian fastened the leather straps beneath the crossbow’s bolt case to the bracer on his right wrist. He would have preferred mounting the crossbow on his left hand, but his right hand needed to be free to wield a sword.

Click.

Once he secured the crossbow, Ian used his left hand to turn the small wheel on the side. The bowstring pulled back until it latched onto the catch at the bow’s end. At the same time, a bolt emerged from the quiver below, resting in place. He only needed to press the latch to fire.

He then removed the bolt and placed it back into the quiver before testing the mechanism by pressing the catch again. The bowstring snapped forward, slicing through the air.

Excellent.

A smile played on his lips, but it quickly turned into a bitter one. That he could feel genuine satisfaction from such things left a sour taste in his mouth. Of course, the feeling only lasted a moment. With a short huff, he shook off the thought and jumped down from the carriage roof.

As he landed lightly near the campfire, the group fell silent. Ian looked down at Philip, who paused mid-conversation, and let out a chuckle as he sat on an empty spot.

"What? Were you talking about me?"

"N-No, of course not. Did you finish whatever you needed to do up there?" Philip stammered as he picked up a stick to prod the firewood.

Ian casually displayed the crossbow strapped to his right wrist.

"Yeah."

Both Seras and Asme focused on the dark crossbow.

"... You brought the assassins’ weapons with you," Asme remarked. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"It's nothing unusual," Ian replied, glancing at Elia, who had draped herself in the shadowy cloak from head to toe and was now dozing off with a blanket over her. She even had a bit of drool pooling on her lips.

Seras raised her cup and spoke. "It’s an obvious thing to do, yet I didn’t think to do it myself. In fact, it didn’t even cross my mind."

That’s because this is just the way things work on the streets.

Ian snorted as he accepted the cup from Philip. Searching the corpses was the work of soldiers or mercenaries on a battlefield. It wasn’t something the highborn princess or an imperial knight would typically consider.

"Everyone overlooks the obvious at times," Philip murmured, casting a glance at Seras, who nodded with a knowing smile.

Ian set down his cup, noticing that Philip kept glancing at him uncertainly.

"Why are you acting differently all of a sudden?"

"What...?"

"If you have something to say, just say it. Stop being so irritatingly cautious."

Philip’s gaze dropped, and he prodded the firewood, sighing softly. Conflict flared in his eyes as he stared into the flames.

"I realized I’d been so focused on being knighted that I never stopped to think about what truly mattered: choosing a lord to whom I’d pledge my loyalty." Philip, without taking his eyes off the crackling fire, finally spoke.

Ian, holding his cup, shifted only his eyes to look at him.

"But, my lord, I have no desire to swear loyalty to the royal family and the Order. The same goes for the great nobles of the capital. And as Your Highness mentioned, it’s no easy task to remain unaffiliated after the knighting ceremony. I would be bound by doctrine and law."

Why is he beating around the bush?

Ian narrowed his eyes slightly, taking a sip from his cup, and spoke up, "So?"

"... So, I’ve spent the whole day thinking it over, and no matter how I look at it, there’s only one lord I want to serve." Philip stopped and set aside the stick he had been using to poke at the fire.

Ian’s brow furrowed in response. Setting his cup down on the ground, Ian replied, "You’re not about to tell me that lord is me, are you?"

"Why not?"

So it’s true—unbelievable.

"I was wondering why you were taking so long to say it..." Ian let out a disbelieving chuckle and shook his head, raising his cup again as he spoke. "Don’t say such absurd things. I’m not a king, nor do I hold any official title. You know my titles are purely honorary."

"I thought the same. Maybe that’s why I didn’t think of you at first. But it seems we were wrong." Philip’s gaze shifted to the side, and Ian followed it, noticing Seras with a knowing smile.

Before he could say anything, she spoke up. "That’s right. It’s not impossible at all, Sir."

"... Are you saying I have the qualifications?"

"Of course. You are the legitimate representative of that great being. Granted, it doesn’t mean you wield all its authority, but you have enough standing to grant knighthood in your own name. Besides, you are also the Great Warrior of the North."

Only now did Ian understand what Philip and Seras had been whispering about.

Seras, unfazed, took another sip of her drink and added, "However, if Sir Philip chooses this path, he won’t be able to receive any additional titles or rise to higher ranks. And, of course, he won’t be able to command troops. I believe you understand the reasons for that without needing further explanation."

"..."

"When the Great Church conducts the knighting ceremony, they will need to verify your connection. If you have a credible witness to attest to this, it will be simple. In this case, I suppose you could say... an observer."

"Like you?" Ian interjected, and Seras’s smile deepened.

"Yes. Like me."

Ian’s lips curled into a crooked grin. He looked at Seras for a moment before adding, "So, what you mentioned earlier in the carriage... this is what you meant."

"I merely provided a hint. Sir Philip reached his own conclusions. I only answered his questions."

"... You wanted this guy for yourself, though. Why help?"

Seras’s gaze softened as she replied, "At the very least, this way, I won’t have to worry about someone else taking Sir Philip away."

So, she’d rather no one have him than see him go to someone else.

Ian couldn’t help but laugh. That was certainly a royal way of thinking. Not that it didn’t leave a bitter taste. Only a few hours ago, he had resolved to respect whatever decision Philip made. Yet, here it was, coming back to him like this.

"I know I’m not much in your eyes, but I can’t imagine serving anyone else. And frankly, I don’t want to," Philip added cautiously.

Ian looked at him, letting out a long breath before speaking. "You’ll regret it. You’ll be giving up a lot of opportunities that lie ahead. There will be annoyances, and, of course, dangers."

"... I’m aware of what may come from receiving a title from you. But as I understand, the Order already knows about our relationship."

Philip dipped his head slightly as he continued, "Even if you grant me a title, it won’t change much. And, after all, I’m not a dragon’s knight. It’s not like I’ll be receiving direct orders from the Platinum Dragon. It won’t draw as much attention—or opposition."

"I have no intention of merely giving you a title in name only. When the time comes, I’ll exercise my authority."

"Of course. In fact, it won’t be that different from what we’ve been doing until now, will it?"

... That much is true.

As Ian hesitated briefly, Philip continued, "As long as it doesn’t violate doctrine or law, I would gladly follow any order, even one to lay down my life, my lord."

Ian took a sip from his cup, then let out a small sigh as he turned to the side.

"Do you know how to conduct the ceremony?"

"Indeed. It’s simpler than you might think," Seras replied with a bright smile, spinning her cup in her hand.

"Simply bestow the title with Philip’s sword or your fist, and proclaim it to the world aloud. As long as I, the witness, hear it, that will suffice."

"... That’s it?"

"If there’s no land grant involved, yes. That’s all. A bit of paperwork will be necessary, but I can handle that once we return to the capital. I’ll take care of it as a witness."

Why is it unbelievably straightforward?

Ian didn’t even have the heart to laugh anymore.

Indeed. The laws of this world seemed meticulous, yet they were full of loopholes. They were excessively lenient toward those of high status. He too, under the name of the Agent of the Platinum Dragon, had skipped many procedures.

"Then let’s get it over with. Prepare yourself."

"My lord...!!"

Philip’s face lit up as he looked up, then immediately composed himself, picking up the helmet beside him. Rising to his feet, he donned the helmet. Seras and Asme stood as well, both with their hands clasped respectfully in front of them.

Watching them, Ian stifled a sigh and wiped his mouth before getting to his feet.

Schwing—

Philip, as if waiting for this moment, drew his sword. He knelt on one knee, holding the blade across his hands, raising it over his helmet.

"... Under the law of the Radiant Goddess, I pledge to be your loyal sword."