I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 346

Trude immediately nodded. "Understood, Captain."

"And?"

"Priests from the Temple of the Brazier have also arrived. Something about embers and logs, or so they said."

... So there are more priests.

Ian's gaze shifted slightly.

It wasn’t unexpected; Lucia had anticipated that priests would likely await them here. Kanto had been sent ahead to deliver a message, while the main group was likely stationed at this outpost.

As Ian scanned the bustling square, filled with warriors organizing supplies, his eyes locked on a group at the far edge, the priests.

There were six in total—three familiar faces, with the others likely being recent arrivals.

Trude’s voice continued. "They brought various things with them, but they didn’t show us much of it."

"I’ll ask them myself about that. Anything else?"

"That’s it. Nothing more to report."

Ian nodded and turned back to Trude. "I'm not worried about your equipment, but the new ones might not be as well-prepared. What's your take?"

"There’s a disparity. We’ve got some spares, so I’ll distribute what we can to the ones who need it most."

It was clear there would be some shortages.

Ian nodded again, turned around, and added, "Discuss with the other centurions and decide who’ll handle it. Don’t cause unnecessary bloodshed over it."

"Understood, Captain."

As Ian moved on, Trude and the other officers naturally gathered among themselves. They were likely deciding on their centurion assignments. It wasn’t exactly a desirable position—unlike mercenary captains or general officers, centurions and their lieutenants had to lead from the front, putting their lives on the line. Their odds of survival were significantly slimmer.

"The Great Warrior..."

"The Superhuman of the North..."

As Ian approached, villagers assisting the warriors respectfully bowed their heads. Ian returned the gesture with a slight nod. These people would soon become his people, eventually relocating to Hope City in the snowfields once the warriors’ tasks were done.

"Great Warrior," Volber called out, approaching with another centurion, the hulking Garson, in tow. The centurions all bore simple nicknames—Fearless Askel, Toothless Valeri, and Silly Volber, to name a few.

"What is it?" Ian asked, slowing his pace.

Volber naturally fell into step beside him. "There are forty-two warriors in the settlement, not counting those under eighteen."

"Integrate them evenly among the units."

"Yes, Great Warrior."

"Three centurions from the mercenaries will join soon. You might recognize them, but let the others know to treat them with respect as comrades."

"Many warriors here have fought alongside them, including myself. I’ll ensure everyone knows." Volber threw a glance at Garson, who looked slightly sheepish and avoided eye contact.

Surveying the warriors moving about, Ian added, "When we leave, keep the supply wagons to a minimum. Bring only enough provisions for the journey."

"Understood, Great Warrior."

"Finish up quickly and get some rest. Continue the preparations after you've rested. Oh, and don’t bother tying up Nila."

"Yes, Great Warrior."

Bowling his head, Volber turned and left.

... What a ridiculous number of things to manage.

Ian clicked his tongue inwardly and quickened his pace again. Increased responsibilities were inevitable—after all, over one thousand and one hundred soldiers now followed him, double what he initially anticipated.

"Oh, finally making your way over." Miguel and Lucia turned to him as he approached.

Meeting Ian’s eyes, Miguel gestured toward the individuals standing before them. "They’re from the High Priestess. Members of the Ember Priesthood. Care to meet them?"

Ian stopped and scanned the new priests. Two men and one woman. The priests straightened, placing their left hands over their chests as they bowed.

"Pleased to meet you, Agent of the Saint. I’m Bron, a follower of the Blazing Goddess, and a member of the Ember Priesthood."

"Donald. It’s an honor to meet you, Holy Substitute."

"Bella. I’m just a small ember, but I will do my utmost to be of service."

"... A pleasure to meet you. I’m Ian Hope," he replied, mirroring their gesture with a hand over his chest and a polite bow. They had come to risk their lives fighting alongside him, and such courtesy was the least he could offer.

Lucia chimed in, "They brought portable braziers with them."

"Braziers...?" Ian’s gaze shifted to Lucia as he recalled what Kanto had mentioned.

She smiled slightly. "They’re not yet imbued with sacred fire, but we can ignite it before we set out. That’ll save us a lot of prep time once we reach the fortress. It’ll even help during the march."

"The Saintess is truly extending her aid in remarkable ways...." Ian muttered while Lucia turned to address the priests.

"We may not know how many mages Karlingion has, but these priests will undoubtedly be just as valuable, especially while I’m tending to the sacred fire."

Ian nodded. Even if they could replicate just half of Lucia’s abilities, they’d likely outperform most mages. Moreover, combat priests had significant prowess in close combat, making them even more versatile under the right conditions.

Kanto, with his usual deadpan expression, added, "We will keep the ember alive, even if we end as ash."

"Let’s avoid turning into ash," Ian quipped with a faint grin, meeting Kanto’s eyes. "For now, can I consider you all as part of my army rather than just a dispatched priesthood?"

"As long as it doesn’t violate our doctrines or laws, we will follow your orders, Agent of the Saint," Kanto replied without hesitation.

Ian’s smile grew wider. "Excellent. Thank you."

He had confirmed since this seemed to be the condition for sharing experience points. Even when his companions defeated enemies, the quests were completed, and he gained experience. Moreover, his current quests were all directly connected to his army.

The game never implemented anything on such a massive scale...

But in reality, such limitations no longer applied. It meant that the experience points from the monsters slain by his soldiers were likely to flow directly to him. If that was the case, he stood to gain an extraordinary amount of experience.

Of course, that was assuming he survived.

"There’s more they’d like to show you," Lucia added just then.

Ian turned his gaze to Bron, who stepped aside slightly. "The Saintess sends this as a gift. Would you like to inspect it now?"

"With pleasure."

At Ian's nod, the three priests turned almost in unison. With Miguel, Lucia, and Kanto following behind, Ian stepped into the small log cabin they were led to.

"I smell mead."

"Ah, that’s ours," Bron admitted, looking slightly sheepish. "We don’t often get the chance to drink while staying at the temple."

Bron and Donald hauled a large wooden box from the corner of the room to the table. The strain on their faces suggested it was quite heavy. Once the box was placed on the table, Bella opened the lid, revealing its contents. Ian’s eyes glimmered faintly at the sight.

"Well, now..."

The box was filled with neatly stacked longswords, each equipped with a triangular weight at the pommel, the symbol of Lu Entre.

"These are blades tempered by the Sacred Flame," Bella explained. "We’ve brought fifty, ‌ split across two chests."

Ian picked up one of the swords, unsheathing it partially to examine the blade. A subtle smile curved his lips.

"Impressive..."

The blade displayed an information window. It was a rare grade item: Kindling’s Longsword. Both its durability and attack power exceeded those of standard Imperial steel weapons. As Bella had explained, the blades had been forged in a furnace infused with the sacred flame, lending them exceptional quality.

Most intriguing was the special effect listed: Ember’s Trace. Though the specifics weren’t provided, Ian could easily imagine its potential.

"The Saintess regrets not being able to send more," Bella added, her tone serene.

Still admiring the faint ripple pattern along the blade, Ian slid it back into its scabbard and replied, "In times like these, these swords are more valuable than gold. Please convey my deepest thanks."

The priests smiled, clearly pleased by his words. Miguel, ever eager to speak, puffed his chest and remarked, "I’ll bet the warriors will fight over these. They’re masterpieces, no question."

"I agree," Ian said dryly, "but that doesn’t mean we’ll let them."

He turned to Miguel and continued, "Distribute one to each centurion. The rest should be divided equally among their squads. Each centurion decides who among their subordinates deserves one."

This method would avoid squabbles and put the onus on the centurions to choose wisely, which would, in turn, bolster their authority.

Miguel nodded. "Understood. I’ll see it done."

As Miguel handled the distribution, Lucia chimed in, "So we’re definitely heading for Karlingion, then?."

"Most likely," Ian replied, shrugging lightly.

Quests don’t lie, he mused inwardly.

That wasn’t his only basis, of course. Karlingion, among the Northern front-line fortresses, was the closest to the Black Wall, unlike Travelga, which lay further south. Despite its proximity, Karlingion was strategically vital due to its connection to a branching road that led directly into the Empire’s heartlands. If Karlingion fell, it would open a path not just into the Autonomous Territory, but into the Empire itself.

Even in the game, more monsters spilled over from the Northern front than the Eastern, a fact that partly justified the Empire’s deployment of troops in the region.

Now that most of the Imperial forces had withdrawn, it was only logical for the Emperor to send Ian to Karlingion.

It’s a way to share the blame if the fortress falls, while also shifting responsibility for my death onto the Emperor.

Ian smirked faintly at the thought. Whatever hidden motives lay behind the order, they were of no concern to him. His sole priority was ensuring the survival of himself and those who followed him.

"Regardless, I’ll need to double check..." Ian was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by Trude’s voice from outside.

"Captain! I’ve brought him!"

With Lucia and Miguel exchanging puzzled glances behind him, Ian walked toward the door. Outside stood Trude and a middle-aged man whose face looked gaunt and damp, as if water had been splashed on him. His slicked-back hair was still wet.

"P-Pleased to meet you, Your Excellency..."

The man, meeting Ian’s gaze, hurriedly bent one knee in deference. "I am Bilmor Mauni, an envoy sent by His Grace, Archduke Olaf, the rightful and sole ruler of the North."

"Well met, Envoy." Ian offered a calm nod.

Still kneeling, Bilmor reached into his coat and spoke. "I bear a message and orders from His Grace."

With that, he retrieved a neatly rolled parchment. Its surface was smooth, sealed in the middle with wax embossed with the Archduke’s sigil. Holding it reverently in both hands, Bilmor lowered his voice.

"Hear the words of the Archduke—"

"That’s enough."

"—Great protector of the North. ...Pardon?"

Bilmor blinked in confusion as Ian cut him off. "I’ll hear the rest directly from His Grace."

"D-Directly, you say? But—"

"Such critical orders shouldn’t be handled by a simple letter. I’ll go to Travelga. Immediately."

Bilmor hesitated for a moment before his eyes widened in delayed realization. "R-Right now...?"

"You’re coming with me. Prepare yourself." Ian didn’t wait for a response, instead turning to Trude. "Get two horses ready, ones that can run all day. Let my white steed rest and choose something inconspicuous."

"Understood, Captain."

With a nod, Trude quickly turned on his heel.

Ian’s gaze returned to Bilmor, his tone as cold as his expression.

"You have one hour. Be ready."

"... Y-Yes, of course!" Still kneeling, Bilmor scrambled to his feet, clutching the parchment tightly as he hurried off, too flustered to even put it back in his coat.

As if they thought a mere letter could suffice...

Ian scoffed inwardly.

If everything works out, he’ll undoubtedly come up with some excuse to arrange a meeting.

"Brother, aren’t you tired? Is it really necessary to go to Travelga yourself right now?" Miguel’s voice broke through Ian’s thoughts, laced with concern. Standing beside him, Lucia’s eyes echoed the sentiment.

Ian glanced back at them, a faint smirk curling his lips as he stepped outside.

"I’ll be fine. Rest while you can."

I’ll be raiding the armory while I’m at it.

The unspoken words hung in his mind as he strode away.