I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

Chapter 334

Lucia placed her left hand, holding the dagger, against her chest. Her lips moved faintly. Though it was barely a whisper carried on breath, Ian, standing beside her, could make out parts of the prayer. It was different from the one he had heard before.

Shwaa—

A subtle divinity gleamed in her half-closed eyes, and her cloak swayed gently. As Lucia extended her right hand, the surrounding air seemed to grow heavy in an instant.

Fwoosh.

A burst of orange flames ignited atop the pile of firewood shortly after.

The flames slowly cascaded downward, consuming the wood in their blaze. Yet, there was neither the stench of burning nor any smoke spreading. The flames did not leap to the brazier, either.

Lucia rotated her wrist so that her palm faced upward, then slowly curled her fingers inward.

Whoosh—

The flames converged toward the center of the brazier, pulling inward toward the pile of wood. The sacred fire flickered even more vividly in red. To Ian’s eyes, it simply seemed like the flames were condensing. There didn’t appear to be any particularly significant changes.

As Ian narrowed his eyes slightly, a red thread of light sparked from Lucia’s hand. The wounds on her palm, which had only just healed, had reopened.

Yet Lucia seemed utterly unaware, her half-lidded eyes fixed ahead as she murmured her prayer. Blood flowed from the reopened wound, tracing its way down her hand and dripping into the brazier.

Fwoosh—

The flames flickered vividly, growing slightly larger as they expanded again, briefly diminishing while condensing.

Immediately afterward, Lucia extended the dagger she had pressed to her chest, moving it toward her right palm. Shimmering cold in blue, the blade carved yet another crimson line across her hand. Blood flowed freely, dripping heavily.

Woosh.

The sacred fire devoured her blood, flaring intensely. Her grip, clenched tight as if wringing power from the air, released even more blood. However, unlike when she had sealed the rift, the sacred fire did not turn blue. It merely flickered in reddish hues, consuming the wood and her blood.

By now, sweat had beaded across Lucia’s forehead, her complexion pale. Her blood-soaked hand trembled faintly.

Ian’s gaze grew heavier as he watched her.

Suddenly, Lucia bit her lower lip lightly. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face. It was brief, barely perceptible.

Then, as if deciding, she moved the dagger toward her wrist.

Ian reacted almost instantly, lunging forward as he stretched out his left hand.

The dagger halted just before reaching her wrist, stopped by Ian’s hand gripping her forearm.

Lucia, startled, opened her eyes wide and turned to look at him. Surprise and confusion filled her orange-tinged eyes. Ian reached out with his right hand, snatching the dagger from her grasp, and exhaled sharply.

"Focus. I’ll help you."

"What...? Oh, yes. Yes!"

At last, Lucia looked back down at the brazier, quickly clenching her right hand, which had loosened in the confusion. The sacred fire, which had crept out from the pile of firewood and spread around, flared once more and drew inward. She struggled to regain her composure and resumed her prayer with her eyes closed.

To think they consider this a symbol of passion...

Ian’s gaze, calm and heavy, rested on the brazier. He extended his left hand and opened his palm. The bloodied blade of the dagger pressed against the center of his palm.

Ssshhk—

The blade sliced deeply across his hand. Blood spurted from the wound, dripping into the brazier below.

The crimson glow of the sacred fire turned blue immediately after.

Whoosh!

A brilliant blue flame surged upward, engulfing the entire pile of firewood and radiating enough heat to reach Ian and Lucia.

Lucia flinched in surprise. The intense change even caused one of Ian’s eyes to twitch.

I had expected it to help… But this much?

Ian was about to pull his hand back as the thought crossed his mind

"J-just a bit more, Sir Ian...!" speaking in a strained voice, Lucia extended her left hand, which had been pressed against her chest. Her eyes remained tightly shut.

As the once-surging blue flames subsided, Ian calmly extended his left hand again. This time, he clenched his fist tightly to deepen the wound.

Whoosh—

The flames, soaking up more of the blood, turned closer to white, burning fiercely.

Gritting her teeth, Lucia bent both outstretched hands as if gripping the air. The flames, as though suppressed, calmed. Yet they didn’t lose their vigor like before.

Ian’s eyes twitched as he stared into the fire. At the center of the flames, threads of divinity unraveled and converged again, shimmering faintly. It was a sensation akin to the source of power found in holy relics.

So, it’s possible to create something like that this way...

Of course, it was an imperfect source, bound to diminish. But for now, it would serve as a focal point to sustain the sacred fire.

Ian glanced back at Lucia. She seemed wholly immersed in controlling the flames. Slowly, the gap between her bent fingers narrowed until they touched.

Whoosh...

The condensed sacred fire fell still. At that moment, Ian felt warmth sweep through his entire body. The heat radiated outward, with the brazier as its center.

Lucia slowly pulled her fingertips apart. Her bent fingers stretched fully open. The palms of her hands, which had faced each other, gradually drew away. Yet the serene white flames perched atop the pile of firewood remained steady, flickering softly in place.

"Phew..."

Lucia exhaled a deep breath and lowered her hands slowly. The fluttering of her cloak subsided as it fell still. The divine energy that had rippled through her body faded, and finally, she opened her eyes, turning to look at Ian.

Sweat drenched Lucia’s face, but her amber-hued eyes gleamed with elation and a sense of accomplishment.

"It worked. Sir Ian."

"... Yeah. Good jo—"

Ian, who had been replying calmly, suddenly tossed aside the dagger he was holding and reached out urgently. It was because Lucia’s body had wavered as if she were about to collapse into the brazier.

"Lucia!" As Miguel’s shocked voice rang out from below the platform, Ian caught Lucia’s arm just in time, pulling her into his arms in one swift motion. Turning and dropping to his knees, Ian wrapped his arm around her shoulders, exhaling with relief.

"... Thank you, Sir Ian." Lucia’s voice came from within his embrace. She blinked weakly, her lips curling into a faint, dazed smile. She hadn’t passed out—it seemed she was simply dizzy.

"If you hadn’t helped me—"

"Enough. Shut up and just pass out already." Cutting her off, Ian slipped his left arm under her knees and stood up.

Even though she was fairly tall, she was still light. Lucia did not resist or protest and allowed herself to be carried. She likely didn’t have the strength to do otherwise.

"Is she okay? Huh?" Miguel’s worried voice followed them, his expression tense as if he were about to run up at any moment.

Lucia turned her head to answer. "I’m fine. Really, I’m okay."

"Okay, my ass..."

Your face is completely devoid of color.

Scoffing lightly, Ian glanced at the pure white sacred flame before turning away.

"That scared the life out of me..." Miguel, clutching his chest in relief, spoke in a mix of exasperation and gratitude. "See? Good thing I told you to go up there with her, huh?"

"Exactly. As expected... Sir Ian, you’re incredible." Lucia rested her head against Ian’s arm and looked up at him. "Thanks to you, the sacred flame’s core ended up much larger than I had expected."

"So, what? Does that mean it’ll last longer?" As Ian descended the stairs at a steady pace, he asked.

Lucia gave a slight nod. "As long as we keep feeding it firewood, it should last for months. It’s amazing, really. I don’t think even the High Priestess could have done what just happened."

"You don’t have to exaggerate..."

"I mean it. I think your blood is different from that of most people. It might even be blessed."

It didn’t seem like mere flattery.

Was it because of the chaos power? Or perhaps because this body was a direct descendant of an ancient bloodline?

Mulling it over silently, Ian descended the stairs without a word. Miguel approached the foot of the stairs, looking at Lucia.

When Ian met Miguel’s gaze, he gestured with his chin. "Take her. She needs a few days’ rest, so make sure she doesn’t get up to anything else."

"I don’t think I’ll need that long to res—"

"As you command, Great Warrior." Before Lucia could finish her sentence, Miguel promptly responded, extending his arms.

Ian handed Lucia over to him.

"Wow, when did you get this heavy?"

"That’s a rude thing to say, Miguel."

At Lucia’s feeble response, Miguel let out a hearty laugh.

As he adjusted his hold on her, she glanced back at Ian. "What about you, Sir Ian?"

"I’ll clean up here and then go eat. As for you, don’t even think about doing anything else. Your work here is done, so just rest." Ian finished speaking and motioned with his chin at Miguel, who nodded and turned with a smile.

"Thank you for your hard work. Truly."

"Just take good care of her hands. Make sure the wounds don’t get worse."

"Of course. Don’t worry about that." With Lucia in his arms, Miguel began walking away.

"You heard that, didn’t you? Stay in bed for a while and don’t go causing him any unnecessary worry."

"... But I still need to check on the brazier—"

"At least take today to rest. We’ll do that after you’ve had a proper break. Let’s start by washing those hands. I’ll boil some water."

The two exchanged light conversation as they walked off, their voices gradually fading. Ian’s gaze naturally drifted across his surroundings.

"Oh, superhuman of the North..."

"As expected... even our Great Warrior’s blood is extraordinary, huh?"

By now, the villagers had stopped what they were doing and gathered around the brazier to inspect.

Some seemed to have witnessed the ritual from the very beginning and were eagerly recounting the events to those nearby. Even those who hadn’t seen it could likely feel the warmth radiating from the brazier.

One by one, those who met Ian’s gaze lowered their heads respectfully.

Ian clicked his tongue lightly and waved a hand dismissively before turning away.

"Thank you for your efforts, Great Warrior..." A raspy voice spoke from beside the platform. It was Kvassar.

Ian turned to him and gave a small nod. "I thought you’d gone to rest."

"Most have. I stayed behind to ensure the ritual concluded safely."

A responsible man, Ian mused to himself as he stepped between the stairs and the brazier. The dagger he had thrown earlier lay discarded on the ground. He bent down to pick it up, wiping the blood off the blade with his cloak.

"A white flame... It’s truly sacred. How should we maintain it now?" Kvassar, gazing up at the brazier, asked the question.

"Just add firewood from time to time. And don’t get any ideas about throwing blood into it like I did."

Ian sheathed the dagger and locked eyes with Kvassar’s dim, aged ones.

"And do not forget the name of the Blazing Goddess."

"... I will remember. I’ll have Rigg prepare a meal for you. You must be tired, so leave the rest of the cleanup to us."

"Sure, let’s do that...." Ian’s words trailed off as his gaze suddenly shifted upward. The heavily clouded sky turned crimson in an instant.

Boom!

... Here we go again.

With an inward sigh, Ian leaped off the platform without hesitation and added, "Bring the food to my quarters."

Without waiting for a response, he broke into a run.

Behind him, Kvassar called out, startled. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Up."

Whether his answer reached Kvassar was unclear, but it didn’t matter. Anyone could guess his destination with just a glance.

Ian sprinted to the edge of the square, pushing off the ground to grab the roof’s edge. With a firm pull, he hoisted himself up.

Thud, thud—

He landed lightly and dashed across the rooftop, leaping effortlessly from one roof to the next without slowing down.

His goal was the roof of a two-story wooden house further ahead. From there, he could at least confirm the direction of any potential lightning strike.

Rumble!

The sky flashed again.

Despite his elevated position, Ian wasn’t concerned about being struck by lightning. As long as the sacred flame burned in the brazier, no red lightning would strike this area.

Tap tap!

He climbed the frame of a window and scaled the wall with ease, quickly reaching the roof of the two-story house.

The open view allowed him to see more of the sky and the faint red glow flickering far to the east.

As expected...

Ian stared at the glowing sky for a moment before letting out a low snort.

... So it doesn’t summon lightning every time it acts up.

This time, the storm merely illuminated the clouds and rumbled softly. There were no flashes of lightning or deafening crashes to accompany it.