I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 365

Boom, boom, boom—

The wind lashed against Ian's entire body. Even while ascending, the avatar continued its erratic acrobatics, twisting and turning chaotically through the air.

It seemed intent on using every ounce of its strength to shake off Ian, who clung stubbornly to its back.

Damn it. I should've cut off its wings somehow.

Ian held on relentlessly. His sharp claws, extending from the tips of his feet, were dug deep into the avatar's back. His left hand, no longer holding the Platinum Barrier, gripped its flesh with all his strength. He plunged the sword so deeply that only the hilt showed.

"----!"

The avatar's scream pierced through the roar of the wind.

At the same time, crimson lightning flashed, and the lightning bolts falling around them transformed into rumbling thunder. It seemed the avatar no longer had enough power to maintain its authority.

In any case, they were moving further and further away from the battlefield at incredible speed. The presence of the legion had already faded into obscurity.

This bastard is also moving farther away, so... the mutated ones shouldn't last much longer.

Even so, Ian couldn't stay like this. Despite the jolts of pain surging through his body, he gritted his teeth and moved. Slowly, like scaling a cliff, he climbed hand over hand and foot over foot toward the avatar's head.

Creak, crack—

The avatar seemed to realize what Ian was doing. Its entire body pulsed with an unstable violet light, and long tentacles sprouted from its back.

It could just cause an explosion. Does it not even have the strength for that?

Even amidst the chaos, the avatar's thoughts spilled into Ian's mind. Pain, confusion, fear—and the awareness that it was losing power rapidly. Ian could sense it all. Perhaps it was because he was in direct contact with the creature, or maybe the fragment he carried had absorbed a significant amount of its chaotic energy.

Ian gripped the avatar's back tightly with his left hand, almost digging into it, and adjusted his hold on the Truesilver Steel Sword.

Whoosh—

Golden light flared along the blade, fueled by the blazing holy flames. Though Ian's magic in the Mantra circuit was running low, it was sufficient for a few more minutes of combat.

Shhhk!

The sprouting tentacles came at him almost simultaneously, blunt and malformed, as if hastily formed.

Slash! Swoosh—

However, the golden, flaming blade effortlessly cut them down.

Even while clinging to the avatar's undulating back, which rose and fell like a rollercoaster, Ian struck down each tentacle without a single wasted swing.

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Rumble—

Thunder reverberated through his entire body as he severed the final tentacle. Around him, thick, dark crimson mist swirled and flickered faintly. He was inside the clouds now. Below him, the dense, crimson fog entirely obscured the battlefield.

The avatar's scream echoed, and its chaotic thoughts flooded into Ian's mind. Of course, Ian didn't stop.

Give Lucy back, he muttered inwardly and continued moving.

His right hand gripped the sword's hilt tightly, his sharp claws digging into the creature's back. He grabbed onto a writhing, severed tentacle as if it were a handhold. He ignored the wings, intending to deal with them after rescuing Lucia.

Getting back down is going to be the real problem.

Even as he thought this, Ian finally placed his foot on the nape of the avatar's neck, tracing its shallow curve.

Crunch.

His long claws sank firmly into its flesh. Ian straightened slightly, balancing himself.

Whoosh...

The Light Sword, burning with holy fire, flickered in his hand.

The avatar's terror was palpable. It had stopped its erratic, acrobatic flight. It seemed to have concluded that it couldn't shake Ian off, likely because it didn't have enough strength left to try.

Ian paused as he raised his sword. The avatar was lifting its right arm above its head. The surrounding area brightened slightly.

Whoosh—

It was because of Lucia.

She hung limp in its grip, still surrounded by holy flames. She was unconscious, but still alive. The avatar's crimson-stained fist alternated between burning and regenerating, mirroring Ian's current state in some ways. The flames consuming its strength were likely the main reason it was weakening so quickly.

Ian immediately understood its intent.

Are you trying to say you'll give her back, so we should call it off?

As if in response, the avatar's hand moved closer to Ian. Its massive fist was nearly the size of Ian's upper body. Yet, it no longer had any will to fight—only fear.

An avatar of an ancient god, afraid of me... I've really come a long way.

The thought lasted only a moment.

Ian reached out with his left hand and grabbed the edge of Lucia's cloak. When the avatar loosened its grip, Ian pulled her into his arms.

Whoosh—

The holy flames on her cloak continued to burn fiercely. In fact, they flared even brighter as Ian embraced her. The pain was excruciating, but Ian didn't release his hold.

Her breathing is steady. That's a relief.

A sense of relief filled him, knowing his assumption had been correct. At the same time, his violet right hand tightened its grip on the sword.

Crunch—

The blazing blade's upward arc severed the avatar's retreating forearm in one clean stroke. The creature shuddered violently.

"----!"

Its scream pierced the air as its thoughts spilled into Ian's mind in a chaotic torrent. Confusion, shock, and something close to betrayal.

Ian's lips twisted into a grin, revealing sharp teeth scorched by the holy flames.

Who said I was going to stop?

With a thought utterly fitting for a mage, Ian swung the Light Sword horizontally with all his might.

Crack—

Ian sliced the avatar's head clean off. Of course, this wasn't enough to kill it, but at least it silenced its incessant screams. The creature's wings flapped wildly in spasms, and the severed surface of its neck emitted a faint violet glow instead of regenerating.

Whoosh—

At the same time, the holy flames engulfing Lucia burned even hotter, their heat surging into Ian's body. The flames flared with greater intensity as if embodying Lu Entre's wrath.

The Goddess probably can't see anything properly now. Maybe that's why she’s even more mad.

Furrowing his brows slightly at the pain, Ian glanced down at his sword. The light from the Mantra circuit had dimmed, but the holy flames on the blade burned more fiercely than ever, scorching the crimson mist around him. At this point, it was less a Light Sword and more a blade of divine fire. The sword's divine amplification effect was at its peak.

Ian's gaze shifted back to the avatar, which was slowly ascending at an angle. Its severed arm and head had yet to regenerate, and it appeared to flap its wings purely out of instinct.

I suppose if I stayed on, it'd eventually fall slowly.

However, Ian had no intention of letting it continue flying, nor of granting it such a peaceful end. Adjusting his grip on Lucia with his left arm, Ian raised the fiery blade high.

Tap.

He lightly kicked off the nape of the avatar's neck. He hovered for a moment before descending. Ian slashed downward with the sword of fire.

Boom!

A brilliant arc tore through the avatar's body, splitting it in half as Ian fell. Since the creature was still ascending, it almost seemed to Ian as though it had thrown itself onto the blade.

Rumble—

The blazing blade sliced cleanly through, slipping out from the avatar's legs. As Ian flipped his body in midair, he looked up to see the creature's bisected form suspended in the air. Its ascent finally halted.

The sense of it moving farther away was merely because Ian himself was falling down.

Whoosh—

From the severed halves of the avatar's body, dazzling violet light poured out. Twin trails of violet streaked through the sky as its halves fell apart.

Boom, boom—

The fragment of chaos resonated just as a quest completion notification appeared before Ian's eyes.

Amidst the scattering lights, some rushed toward Ian with incredible speed—essence bead from the avatar, bound for the fragment. Ian didn't resist; in truth, he couldn't.

Whoosh—

The holy energy in his body flared even hotter. Despite the pain, Ian could feel the essence bead of chaos merging with the fragment as his divine energy burned away the remnants.

The sky brightened once more.

Now then...

Ian tossed the still-burning sword into his pocket dimension, finally flipping his body upright again. The arms holding Lucia instinctively tightened.

All that's left is landing safely.

Lying as if suspended in midair, the resistance from the atmosphere was immense. Still, Ian didn't close his eyes. He stared into the vast sea of thick, dark crimson mist surrounding him.

Fire Beam? No, the Whirlwind is more stable. I've got experience with that. As long as I can slow down enough, I'll manage... and if not, at least Lucy will...

His continuous train of thought halted abruptly when his view suddenly cleared.

Ian tilted his head upward. What lay before him was an endless stretch of sticky darkness, concealed until now by the clouds.

His eyes caught the faint, flickering crimson lights scattered across the void. Without realizing it, Ian pulled Lucia closer to his chest.

***

The scent of coffee tickled his nose. A warm cup of Americano sat on the table in front of him. He reached out for the cup but paused, his gaze shifting. The small café was utterly empty.

As he took in the quiet surroundings, a faint chuckle escaped his lips. He realized this was a dream. As with all dreams, he couldn't recall how he'd ended up here.

"It's something I've always thought of," a voice said from across the table.

Ian turned his head back to the front.

A man with an indistinct face now sat across from him, dressed in a sharp black suit. "You're no fun. Too perceptive for your own good. You always figure out it's not real right away."

"I've been through this too many times, thanks to things like you." Ian finally picked up the coffee cup, replying nonchalantly.

He briefly wondered if it would turn into something awful, but he took a sip anyway. It was perfectly bittersweet—a familiar taste.

The man across from him smiled faintly. "So, do you know who I am now?"

"I know you're not the one who dragged me into this world, at least." Ian set the cup down and locked eyes with the man. "So, tell me—who brought me here, and why?"

"Well... I wouldn't know that," the man replied, though his smug smile suggested otherwise. Leaning forward slightly, he continued, "But I could help you find out."

He extended his hand. "If you take my hand, that is."

Of course, Ian didn't take it.

"If you were me, would you?" He let out a short scoff, shaking his head in disbelief.

The man shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe if I thought I had nothing to lose, I'd give it a shot."

"You'd have a lot to lose," Ian shot back.

The man blinked at Ian's response, his smile fading as Ian continued coldly. "You're just trying to find a way into my world. That's why you're interested in me. Once you've achieved your goal, you'll leave."

"Your distrust runs deep." The man let out a soft laugh, withdrawing his hand. "Well, you're not entirely wrong. But that's not the whole story. I really am fascinated by you. You're an utterly intriguing chaos."

Ian did not respond.

"Why else would I bother repeating such tedious tasks?" the man asked.

"Maybe because you need permission to peer into my soul."

"That's true as well," the man admitted with a smirk.

I had expected as much, thought Ian.

He silently took another sip of his coffee as the man continued speaking. "It pains me, you know. I can't recall ever doing anything to deserve such hostility. In fact, I even saved you."

Ian froze for a moment, furrowing his brow as he lowered his cup. "When did you save me?"

"Just now."

As Ian frowned deeper, the man crossed one leg over the other and spoke leisurely. "And judging by the situation... it seems I'll need to help you a bit more."

With a suspicious smile, the man extended his right hand. With his left, he grasped his pinky finger.

Snap.

A chilling sound echoed as two segments of his pinky were pulled free. Not a single drop of blood spilled from the severed edges. The man held out his left hand, palm up, with the severed finger resting in it. The dismembered digit twitched slightly.

"Take it. It'll come in handy. Probably."

"Didn't think you'd lack the capacity to learn," Ian replied, watching the scene unfold with a furrowed brow.

"You're such a coward," he added, scoffing. The man placed the severed finger next to Ian's cup. The finger twitched like a worm.

"This little fragment won't cause the catastrophe you're worried about. It won't consume the chaos within you, either. Believe it or don't; that's up to you." The man nodded slightly and rose to his feet. "But you should take it before it's too late. Time's almost up. I'll take your gratitude as given. Until we meet again. Truly, I hope you survive until the very end." With a peculiar smile, the man turned and walked away without hesitation.

As Ian watched his retreating figure, faint static crept into his vision. His eyes widened. At last, he remembered how he'd ended up here. His gaze shifted back to the table.

The severed finger sat there, eerily still.

The static thickened, overtaking his vision.

"...Tch."

The hesitation didn't last long. Just before the static engulfed him entirely, Ian reached out and grabbed the finger. With one final twitch in his grasp, all sensation faded into quiet darkness.

Ian's eyes snapped open.

The gritty texture of soil pressed against the back of his head. In his hand, he felt the faint wriggling of Swamp's Resentment. His right arm, once fused with chaos, had returned to its original form.

Ian didn't bother to fully assess his condition. Instead, he frowned slightly, staring at the scene before him.

The sky, warped and flickering with ominous hues, stretched overhead. Beneath it, massive rocks floated in defiance of gravity.

"This is insane... seriously...."

A hollow laugh escaped Ian's lips. He recalled a similar sight from the game—beyond the Black Wall.

<End of Part 1>