I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

Chapter 233

Regardless, Ian was mulling over his memories of the game. Back then, Duke Kralen hadn’t given any quests related to the Round Table Parliament. If he was indeed a member of the council, it meant there would be conditional quests. Extracting that information was Ian’s primary goal. Additionally, uncovering his role in secretly supporting various corrupted individuals like those in Agel Lan was also on the agenda.

Nasser, having regained his composure, spoke. "Why do you intend to do this? Do you know who Duke Kralen is?"

"He’s a corrupt figure. For now, at least."

Nasser frowned. "Edward Kralen, a corrupt figure?"

Ian shrugged. "Yes. The state of the West became like this because he abandoned his failed creations."

"... It’s hard to believe. But it must be true, since you have no reason to lie."

Ian met Nasser’s hazel eyes. "You seem to know quite a bit about him."

"Just what is widely known even in the center. He is a high noble who practically governs the entire West, including Racliffe."

"Alright. We’ll hear more about it on the way. Prepare to leave."

".. Yes, Sir Ian. I mean, my lord."

Before he finished his response, Charlotte helped Nasser to his feet.

***

"After that tragic event, the Duke gave up on having an heir. Instead, he dedicated himself to enriching his lands. I’ve heard he donates a substantial amount to the Great Church every year."

From the coachman’s seat, Nasser’s voice continued through the small window. The rest of the group, unfamiliar with the internal affairs of the Empire, listened intently to his story.

Duke Kralen had lost all his children—through war, political intrigue in the center, and illness. It was enough tragedy to birth a newly corrupted individual. Yet, despite the tragedy, it didn’t evoke much sympathy. Tragedy didn’t justify making the wrong choices. They listened in case there were any useful clues.

To Ian, it wasn’t a particularly unique or impressive story.

"Thanks to that, he has earned great trust from both the Imperial family and the church, not to mention the military. So, if it’s revealed that the Duke is a corrupt figure... the center will be in an uproar for a while."

Nasser fell silent.

The carriage remained steeped in silence.

Looking back slightly, he added. "That’s all I know."

"Good job, half-ear. It was quite an interesting story, albeit a bit long," said Thesaya, who was leaning against the window.

Nasser smiled at her. "I’m glad it was helpful."

"Anything else to ask, Ian?"

At Charlotte’s question, Ian, who was leaning on the windowsill, shook his head.

"No, that’s enough."

"The carriage seems a bit fast, Charlotte. Please ensure the horses don’t tire out," said Philip, sitting opposite Thesaya.

"Got it. Will do." Charlotte, who had answered, turned to look at Nasser.

Understanding the cue, Nasser lightly pulled on the reins. With a new coachman, the group’s seating arrangement had changed. Charlotte sat next to Nasser, overseeing him. Of course, that wasn’t the only reason. The rest of the group was inside the carriage. The carriage was designed to carry up to six people, but that was assuming they were lightly equipped.

"Listening to your story, it seems Racliffe’s situation is quite different from other places," Mev murmured after a moment of silence, sitting beside Philip.

Both she and Philip were still dressed in full plate armor, with only their faces showing beneath robes. The carriage felt cramped with the two of them sitting side by side.

Ian, sitting beside Thesaya on the opposite side, shrugged. "Regardless of the situation, only the process will change. Unless the Duke is already dead, we’ll just confront him and proceed with our plan."

"I’m worried if things will go as planned. Do you think the Duke will easily believe that you are a member of the Round Table?" Philip added cautiously.

Ian’s plan was to act as a member of the Round Table in front of the Duke. Disguising Mev and Philip as purifiers was part of convincing the Duke, especially if he was indeed a council member and aware of the Dawn Brigade’s existence, given his close ties with the church.

Resting his chin on his palm, Ian replied, "We have nothing to lose. If it doesn’t work out, we can always resort to fighting as originally planned."

"The important thing is to minimize unnecessary sacrifices. In that sense, Ian’s plan is quite meaningful," Mev said calmly, looking at Thesaya and Philip. "We’ll support Ian’s authority, even if it’s based on a lie."

... Though that wasn’t my original intention.

Despite his thoughts, he nodded calmly.

Thanks to Nasser’s story, the group now knew that the Duke’s influence was greater than expected. Killing him would have significant repercussions. Even if Ian was the Agent of Platinum Dragon, he might not be able to mitigate all the fallout. This wasn’t the North but the West of the Empire, and the opponent was the most powerful figure in the region.

However, having an elder elf and purifiers with them would change the situation. It would significantly reduce the likelihood of unnecessary bloodshed.

‘The cleanup, well, Archeas will handle it somehow.’

While Ian was thinking irresponsibly, Thesaya, with an expectant look in her eyes, spoke up.

"What’s there to worry about? Ian will handle everything. We just need to stand there and look imposing. It’s not our first time, after all."

"... Yes, indeed. When else would I get to be a purifier?" Philip laughed softly.

Ian waved his hand slightly and said, "Just don’t let your guard down. We never know what unexpected situations might arise."

"Even if everything seems certain, we’ll remain quiet until you give the signal, Ian," Mev responded.

Nodding, Ian turned his gaze outside the window.

The mutated and withered plants were no longer visible. It was now an ordinary field and forest, except for the dull gray sky and the heavy air. It was evidence that they had entered the outskirts of Tessen. While the air didn’t yet have the salty scent, Racliffe wasn’t far off. The group huddled inside the carriage because they didn’t know when they might encounter Racliffe’s soldiers, nobles, or, worst of all, refugees.

"Anyway, I hope there won’t be another tragedy like in Tessen, even if it makes things more difficult," Philip muttered.

Recalling Racliffe in the game, Ian replied indifferently, "Well, we’ll find out when we get there."

***

As night fell, they encountered nothing. There were no refugees, nor any signs of human presence at all. It seemed there were no monsters either. It wasn’t that they had never been there; they had likely been scattered by the void magic from the corrupted rituals. Thanks to this, the group set up camp right in the middle of the field off the main road.

Charlotte dragged Nasser around, using him as a pack mule, while he dutifully handled the chores with a smile despite her harsh treatment.

He’s a peculiar one, Ian thought as he chewed on some jerky, watching Nasser organize the camp. It seemed Nasser viewed all of this as part of his penance.

A pot of stew made from various ingredients was boiling over the campfire. Despite its appearance, it was a surprisingly decent stew.

Crash!

A loud noise erupted from the opposite side. Ian turned his gaze without stopping his chewing. Philip was sprawled on the ground, thrown down by Mev. Despite the short time since they started sparring, Philip had already been floored three times. Mev, straddling Philip’s breastplate, held a blade to his face, one hand on the hilt and the other gripping the blade’s middle.

"Your whole body is both a fortress and a weapon, Philip. You need to engrave that into your subconscious," said Mev, who had withdrawn the blade and extended her hand.

Philip, breathing heavily, grabbed it and stood up with difficulty. "I thought it would be easier since I’ve watched so much. But as expected, theory and practice are different."

"You’ll get used to it soon. Let’s go again."

Mev patted Philip on the shoulder and moved back to create distance.

"I’m ready, my lord!"

The sparring resumed.

Since Philip was wearing full plate armor, Mev was teaching him the combat techniques of a knight, including the art of dueling. She seemed intent on teaching him all her skills before they parted ways.

It’s her way of saying goodbye, Ian thought as he took a bowl from Nasser, watching the sparring match.

From Ian’s perspective, this was a process to rid Philip of various ingrained habits. Philip wasn’t just blindly losing; though the results always ended in Mev’s victory, Philip was managing some resistance, like a worm wriggling on a hook.

"Watching a fight is the most entertaining," Thesaya remarked, holding her bowl of stew to her mouth.

Beside her, Charlotte snorted quietly as Philip was thrown to the ground again.

Holding her bowl of stew, Charlotte spoke up. "Eat first."

"I’m fine... Though you should eat, my lord. If I eat now, I’ll just throw it all up," Philip said, lying spread-eagled as he caught his breath.

Mev, smiling silently, approached the campfire. Despite her heavy breathing, she seemed much more composed than Philip.

"You’re using your shield like a coward," Nasser commented as he handed a bowl to Mev.

Everyone’s attention turned to him. Charlotte frowned and glanced at Ian, who subtly shook his head.

Philip lifted his head to look at Nasser. "Did you just say that to me?"

Despite being opposed to killing him, Mev and Philip hadn’t spoken a word to Nasser. They didn’t like him, regardless of their stance. In fact, they almost hated him. Nasser was a member of the Dawn Brigade and, ultimately, someone who had been abandoned by their God.

It had been the first conversation between Nasser and the others since he joined, and it wasn’t getting off to a good start.

"Hmm," Thesaya’s smile widened as she saw Philip’s expression.

She sipped her stew, eyes gleaming, while Nasser smiled and nodded. "Yes. You’re trying to block every attack. That’s fine when you’re lightly armored, but with that gear, there’s no need."

"If it’s about fighting techniques, our lord’s teaching is more than enough—"

"Sir Gotheir is an excellent knight, of course, but he doesn’t use a shield. As you know, I do."

The shield currently on Philip’s left arm was originally Nasser’s. It was a scaled-down version of a large shield, a masterpiece made from Imperial steel mixed with silver, just like Ian’s greatsword and Mev’s two-handed sword. Though it wasn’t inscribed with attack magic, it could neutralize magic to a certain extent and even deflect spells below a certain level. The enhancement of holy skills was almost a secondary feature.

"You’re getting ahead of yourself," Charlotte growled, glaring at Nasser. "Do you want the other half of your ear gone too?"

"... I only wanted to help. I apologize if I was rude, sir," Nasser said calmly, bowing his head and sitting back down.

Ian, watching as he chewed on his stew, finally spoke up.

"Hey."

"Yes, my lord?"

"How well do you fight?"

"...?"