I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 318

Miguel’s face froze, looking distinctly caught off guard.

"Um... well..." Lucia mumbled, glancing away.

I knew it. Something seemed off, Ian thought, raising his beer to his lips without surprise.

While it wasn’t too strange for Miguel to be involved, it was unusual for Lucia to join as an aide. She was, after all, the Temple’s future Saintess. Even with her connection to Ian, there was no way they’d send her on a potentially dangerous mission. If anyone from the temple were to be sent, it would likely be the Saintess of the Brazier herself.

"You didn’t sneak out in the middle of the night, did you?" he asked, pulling the glass away from his lips.

Miguel gave a reflexive cough, and Ian noticed Lucia’s smile falter further.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "So, you really did..."

"It was to help you, Sir Ian! It wouldn’t make sense for anyone else to go," Lucia replied, trying to maintain her composure as she lifted her chin slightly.

"Obviously, it had to be me. Right? ...Or, maybe not?"

She faltered under Ian’s gaze, her chin dropping again as she fidgeted with her fingers on the table. "I prepared carefully, and I left a long letter for the High Priestess. Since no one’s come to replace us since we arrived, she must have decided to leave this to us... really."

Instead of answering, Ian looked at Miguel, who froze, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Er... it’s... my fault," he managed with a forced smile. "I should’ve tried harder to stop her, but I... well, didn’t."

"No, Miguel did nothing wrong. I pushed him to come. He just followed because he was worried about me," Lucia quickly interjected.

Meeting Ian’s gaze again, she continued, "I really regretted not getting to meet you last time. I wanted to make sure I saw you this time, so... I went through with it."

"I’m not scolding you. I’m glad to see you again too," Ian said, setting his glass down. Lucia hesitated, a soft smile spreading across her face.

"Really...? You’re glad too?"

"Of course. Now the trip to the Temple of the Brazier won’t be so lonely, thanks to you."

"... The temple?" Lucia’s smile faded into a puzzled expression as she blinked in confusion. "Why are you going to the temple?"

"Why else? I was planning to stop by anyway—to see if Sir Riurel was still there and to retrieve my sword. I also intend to ask her to join us at the front lines," Ian replied casually, glancing briefly at Miguel before continuing.

"Besides, I’ll be heading to the snowfields. That’s a cold and dangerous route. Miguel might be able to handle it, but you’re staying at the temple."

Lucia's mouth fell open, clearly caught off guard by Ian’s words. The dazed expression made her look especially like Mev. Miguel, taking a sip of beer, nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Would you... give me a chance to persuade you?" Lucia spoke up, having just composed herself.

She looked Ian in the eyes, adding, "I have reasons you don’t need to go to the temple, Sir Ian."

So, she really wants to come along, Ian thought, chuckling as he removed his steel glove and gestured toward the food.

"Let’s talk while we eat, or the food will get cold."

"... Yes."

Ian picked up a sausage with his fork and took a bite; it tasted as plain as it looked.

Miguel, after a quick glance around, grabbed a bowl of stew and started eating in a rush. He was clearly starving but hadn’t felt comfortable saying so.

Lucia took a few small bites of her stew, then finally spoke up. "First of all... even if you go to the temple, my sister won’t be there. She left some time ago."

"... Is that so?" Ian muttered, momentarily pausing despite having somewhat expected it. Even with his suspicions, he felt a twinge of disappointment. Clicking his tongue softly, he tore into a chicken leg without missing a beat.

"They haven't finished your sword," Lucia continued, glancing at him as he frowned slightly.

"Still?"

"Yes. The High Priestess—that is, the Saintess—decided to take special care with it. She said it’s her chance to repay her debt to you, Sir Ian."

Lucia raised her fork as if it were a sacred blade.

"They’re adding the Blazing Goddess’s blessing to the divine essence within the sword. The separated blade has been placed at the edge of the Brazier, where the consecration ritual is underway. It’s supposed to take about half a year."

"Half a year..."

"No one expected the signs of erosion to begin so soon," Lucia explained. "My sister thought you’d take at least that long to come looking for it."

"Right." Ian nodded, recalling his conversation with Mev in the western part of the Empire. If things had gone as he’d discussed with Mev in the Western Empire, he should still be happily traveling through the central regions by now.

"They’ll only be able to forge the blade once the ritual is complete, melting it in holy fire to temper the edge again. They plan to add truesilver to it. They say it’s the perfect complement to a holy sword," Lucia explained.

She’s repaying her debt with interest.

The sword promised to be something remarkable, though he wasn’t too concerned about the wait—as long as it was ready before he crossed the Black Wall. For now, his dragon-enchanted Truesilver Steel Sword would more than suffice.

"Plus, the temple has supported the Autonomous Territories. They’re forming a priestly battalion to be stationed at various front line fortresses, although the Saintess herself will stay behind."

"She’s staying?" Ian tilted his head, setting down a chicken bone and picking up his spoon for the stew.

Lucia shrugged. "She needs to keep the holy fire burning. Craftsmen in the city are transporting the flames bit by bit to forge weapons and armor, all of which will be sent to the front."

"They are making weapons imbued with divine power?"

"Yes, and much sturdier, too. They’ll be sent primarily to the northern front, and then to the other areas. It won’t equip every soldier, but it should make a substantial difference."

Ian nodded as he sipped his stew. It was a shame the Saintess couldn’t join the fight directly, but given the choice between her presence or an army equipped with blessed weaponry, he’d choose the latter without hesitation.

Even if these blessed weapons wouldn’t match the power of a holy relic, they would likely outperform most magical arms against demonic creatures. And with all the city’s craftsmen dedicated to producing them, a considerable supply was possible.

It certainly feels like the situation has improved compared to the game.

The balance was finally aligning. A faint smile crossed Ian's lips as he raised his mug. It was satisfying to witness how his small efforts were finally generating larger ripples that could influence the bigger picture. Still, he wasn’t about to let his guard down; he’d faced too many surprises to risk complacency. Preparation and reinforcements could never be overdone.

"Can’t you light the sacred fire yourself?" Ian suggested as he brought the mug to his lips.

Lucia shook her head. "There’s a rule that only one person can manage the Brazier at a time. Just being able to reignite the holy fire and be recognized as the next Saintess means I’ve done my part... at least for the next ten years," she said, placing a hand over her breastplate.

"Though I’m called the next Saintess, officially, I’m still an acolyte... or the Apostle of the Blazing Goddess."

"I see..." Ian murmured. It seemed the Saintess of the Temple of Brazier wouldn’t be joining them at the front after all.

"... I understand now why I don’t need to go to the temple," he said, setting his glass down and looking directly at Lucia. "But that still doesn’t mean I have a reason to bring you along, Lucy."

"I know I’m still lacking. I’ve received guidance from the Blazing Goddess and focused on training, but field experience is different."

Despite her calm tone, there was a slight tension as she licked her lips nervously. "Someday, I’ll have to face danger and fulfill my role. There’s no better time to start than now, with you and Miguel by my side."

Glancing between Ian and Miguel, who was chewing his food, she added, "I think the High Priestess would agree; that’s why she hasn’t sent anyone to retrieve me. I wrote in the letter I left that I’d be gaining the experience I need by supporting you, Sir Ian. So...."

Lucia swallowed hard, her gaze earnest and almost childlike in its hopefulness.

"Could you take me with you?"

"Hmm..." Ian wiped the grease from his mouth with his finger and hesitated.

If it were due to her feeling stifled by temple life or wanting to test her abilities, he would have outright refused. However, there was none of that recklessness in Lucia’s tone or gaze. All he sensed was her eagerness to fulfill her role and responsibilities.

... I never expected they’d raise her this well. Then again, she’d shown potential from the start.

With a slight shrug, Ian replied, "Fine. If you’re going to gain field experience, it’s better to do it under my watch."

"Really?" Lucia’s expression brightened.

Ian, with just a hint of a smile, added, "It seems like you’ve trained hard. Your skills against those thugs earlier were quite impressive."

"People say you can’t hide your bloodline, after all. Right, Miguel?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. For sure. You’d be amazed if you saw her swinging a flail," Miguel said, nodding absently as he licked the grease off his glove with a grin.

"I’m telling you, she’ll smash all the scarecrow heads! Plenty of priests found out the hard way that underestimating her size was a mistake. Her barehanded fighting skills are top-notch too; I nearly had my joints broken a few times."

You've become a doting father, Ian thought, his smile growing.

After all, it wasn’t just empty talk. Even in that chaotic brawl, Lucia had emerged without a single scratch. She could clearly handle herself. Miguel’s fighting skills had also leveled up—his hand-to-hand techniques with the mercenaries had been skills Ian had never seen from him before. Miguel had never been one to bury himself in books; he must have dedicated himself to martial training, even after becoming a priest.

"However, you’ll only be traveling with me as far as Travelga," said Ian.

Lucia’s smile faded as her gaze snapped to him, but Ian continued matter-of-factly, "There should be priests stationed there by then. You’ll head back with them while I continue with Miguel."

"But...."

"The front lines are dangerous, even for me. I won’t risk your safety without a solid reason, and I owe it to both the temple and Mev to keep you safe," he said.

"... I understand. I won’t insist any further." Nodding, Lucia’s expression brightened into a smile. "Thank you for allowing me to join Sir Ian."

"Good. Now, let’s finish our meal. Take it easy and enjoy."

"Yes...!" Lucia eagerly picked up her fork, but after a moment, her gaze returned to Ian. "But, Sir Ian, if the High Priestess gives her permission, would you still leave me behind?"

As if she’d allow that, Ian thought, suppressing a chuckle, but shrugged.

"I can’t interfere with a priest receiving orders from the temple."

Lucia’s face softened into a satisfied smile, and she took a large bite of sausage, clearly pleased at the idea.

"Thanks for letting me get some extra fresh air, Brother. Honestly, I was ready to be satisfied just seeing your face again."

Miguel, having finished his meal, raised his beer mug with a warm smile and shrugged, glancing at Ian.

"Not that it would’ve been a bad thing. It wasn’t just me; Lucy’s really been wanting to see you too. She’s fulfilled her wish."

Quite a grand wish, Ian thought with a chuckle, glancing at Miguel’s left hand resting on the table.

"That’s quite an impressive hand you’ve got there. Almost as much as becoming a priest."

"Oh, this?" Miguel grinned, setting down his mug and pulling back his wrist guard to show off his arm.

"It’s a piece crafted by dwarven artisans—a true work of art," he said proudly.

The steel prosthetic was almost entirely covered in metal, down to his forearm, held by finely woven straps and delicate wires from shoulder to upper arm. It looked remarkably realistic, functioning naturally as he moved it.

"There’s a slot here to attach a crossbow at the wrist. I left it upstairs, but I’ll show you later," he added with a touch of pride.

This looks familiar somehow.... Ian mused as he studied the hand.

"Does it shoot cannons from the wrist too?" he asked, smirking.

"A cannon? You mean like a catapult?" Miguel looked confused. "How would that even come out of my wrist?"

"... No, never mind," Ian replied, chuckling as he lifted his beer mug. "It suits you well. I might just call you Iron Fist from now on."