I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 411

"Oh? No, that's not what I meant—" Mev blinked rapidly, flustered, as Miguel awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and spoke again.

"Looks like I got tense for no reason. Well, if it had been a thief, Nila would've made a bigger fuss, wouldn't it?"

"I'm sorry for the misunderstanding. But that doesn't mean I'm not glad to see you again, Miguel." At last, Mev murmured with a faint smile.

Even though Miguel had become a priest, the way they spoke to each other remained unchanged. Mev had initially tried to address him formally, but Miguel had strongly refused. He insisted he'd only become a priest thanks to sheer luck and Lucia's guidance.

"I feel the same. I was starting to worry about when we'd meet again. And here you are, finding me first," said Miguel.

Mev, previously observing a cloth-covered item by the table, redirected her attention to Miguel upon hearing his words. "You mean you didn't come here for another purpose? You came to the frontier to find me?"

"Luckily, I wasn't too late." Despite his words, the smile on Miguel's face faded. He avoided Mev's gaze, lowering his head slightly.

Confused, Mev asked, "Too late? What do you mean by that?"

Miguel opened his mouth several times, his lips moving as though the words were stuck on his tongue.

Mev furrowed her brows as she lowered her voice. "Now that I think about it, why are you traveling alone? And why are you riding Ian's horse?" Her steps toward Miguel faltered.

Raising his gloved right hand from beneath his hooded cloak, Miguel sighed heavily and ran it over his face. "Sir Ian and Lucy—" He lowered his head further and continued in a deep, somber voice. "Are beyond the Black Wall."

"What?" Mev's voice came a beat late as if she hadn’t quite grasped the meaning of his words.

"We battled the invasion at the Northern Karlingion Front during the erosion," Miguel began, speaking as if confessing a sin.

He recounted the battle against the maddened demon, the avatar of chaos it summoned, and how Ian and Lucia had killed the creature and disappeared beyond the Black Wall.

"I have no excuse. I should've stopped Lucy from getting involved, even if I couldn't stop Sir Ian. No, I should've been the one to face that thing instead of them. I failed. It's my fault." The not-so-long story ended with him blaming himself.

Mev didn't respond. She stood frozen as if time had stopped, staring at Miguel with hollow eyes. Though silence engulfed the room, Miguel could only bite his lower lip, unable to lift his head.

The sound of approaching footsteps outside the door broke the stillness.

"My lord, have you finished exchanging greetings.?" Smiling, Nasser entered the room only to stop mid-step with his hand still on the door.

The silence in the room, Mev’s stiffened back, and Miguel standing before her with his head bowed—all of it came into view as he finally parted his lips again. "Priest, why are you here?"

"Good to see you too, Nasser." Miguel turned to face him, forcing a smile.

Nasser tilted his head slightly, then closed the door behind him before glancing back at Mev. "Did something happen?"

"That's..." Miguel faltered, but before he could answer, Mev's voice rang out—flat and emotionless.

"The Black Wall swallowed Ian and Lucy, Nasser."

"Excuse me? What? No, what did you just say?" Nasser stared blankly before his long, narrow eyes widened in shock. He looked as if he hadn't fully processed what he had just heard. But Mev didn’t turn to face him.

"How did they end up on the Northern Front?" Instead, she continued in the same emotionless tone, her gaze fixed on Miguel. "Lucy wasn't supposed to leave the temple yet. Even if they stopped by, Ian wouldn't have taken her to the front lines. Don't tell me—did the Saintess send them there?"

Miguel's head jerked up, his breath catching in his throat. Her unwavering eyes, gleaming crimson, caught his attention.

"It wasn't the Saintess's order." Miguel forced the words out, barely breathing as he continued, "Brother, I mean Ian, never even visited the sanctuary. Lucy, no, it was me. I didn't stop Lucy from leaving."

"There must have been a reason you didn't stop her. I already know how much you care for Lucy. And Ian was the same. This isn't the time to self-blame." There was an unmistakable chill in Mev’s voice. Even the candlelight dimmed, as though holding its breath.

The red glow on Mev's eyes only burned brighter.

"It must have been the royal house," Nasser spoke before Miguel could. "As you said, Sir Ian wouldn't have taken Lucia without a reason. The Platinum Dragon wouldn't have sent him to the front either. It couldn't have been Archduke Olaf—that greedy bastard wouldn't have willingly called the Northern Superhuman back with his own hands."

Nasser met Mev's gaze calmly as she turned to look at him. "And it wouldn't have been the Order. Given their history with Sir Ian, there's no way he would have gone willingly. That leaves only one possibility, the royal house. Or His Majesty the Emperor himself."

"The royal house, Right. That would make sense. Ian went to the capital. That's why the Saintess of the Brazier couldn't stop Lucy." Her muttering was almost venomous now, and the red glow in her eyes turned even more sinister.

"W-Wait!" Miguel, who had been half-dazed as he listened to their exchange, suddenly snapped back to his senses and reached out. "Hold on, both of you! Please, calm down for a moment!"

Mev turned to him, her gaze unreadable. Still drenched in cold sweat, Miguel barely met Mev’s eyes." Why is your first thought finding someone to blame and seeking revenge?"

"What?"

"Brother and Lucy aren't dead. They're alive beyond that Black Wall. I believe it with everything I have—are you telling me you've already given up on Sir Ian?"

Mev's breath hitched as her eyes widened. The candlelight, which had dimmed to the brink of extinguishing, flared back to life.

"Yes, you're right." The crimson hue in her eyes wavered, scattering like embers in the wind. "I wasn't thinking straight. This isn't the time for revenge."

Miguel let out a breath of relief as if his very soul had been drained. He wobbled slightly before placing a hand on his thigh for support.

Mev's voice reached him as he briefly closed his eyes. "Nasser, where's the nearest front line?"

Miguel froze for a second before sighing, as if he had expected this.

"The Eastern Front, most likely. But slipping past the border defenses won't be easy." Nasser calmly replied.

Mev's response came without hesitation. "That doesn't matter. We need to prepare. We're crossing that wall."

"The Black Wall has fallen into silence, my lord."

"Silence? Ah, Lu Solar." A late realization crossed Mev's face, and she let out a short, weary sigh.

Nasser's subdued voice followed. "Even if you leave for the front now, you won't be able to cross that wall for years."

"Nasser is right." Miguel, still sounding drained, pushed himself upright again. As he turned to face Mev, he hesitated.

She looked utterly dazed, her face reflecting the weight of relived nightmares. For a moment, he simply looked at her—her expression was so fragile as if she might shatter at the lightest touch.

"I came looking for you two so you'd hear this from me first—before someone else told you." His voice carried a weary sigh, but he held Mev's gaze steadily as he continued, "But that's not the only reason."

"Then?" Mev barely responded, her voice void of strength.

Instead of answering, Miguel reached into his cloak, revealing his right hand. Clutched in his palm was a small, rectangular talisman.

Swoosh—

A golden Mantra spread across its surface, releasing a soft wave of golden light that rippled through the room.

"What is this?" Mev, stunned, wasn't the only one taken aback—Nasser, too, looked up at the shimmering aura surrounding them.

"For a short while, even the gods won't be able to see us. Just in case, it told me to use this during the day." Miguel tightened his grip around the talisman.

As Mev and Nasser's gazes returned to him, he continued, "A few months ago, the Platinum Dragon came to see me."

"Lu Solar, have mercy. Then even the Platinum Dragon knows about Sir Ian's disappearance." Mev's eyes widened as Nasser let out a heavy sigh.

Miguel nodded and carried on. "I told everything I had seen and heard. And in return, it told me its plans and asked for my help—"

Miguel's gaze shifted to Nasser. "Because it would take far too long for the Black Wall, now sunk in silence, to regain stability."

"No way." Finally, Mev parted her lips, her voice barely a whisper.

Miguel met her eyes. "Yes. The Platinum Dragon intends to bring down the Black Wall."

"That's impossible. There's no way. If it were possible, it would've been—"

"I said the same thing." Miguel cut off Nasser's shocked response with a shrug. "And this was its reply: The Black Wall isn't something that can't be destroyed—it's something that hasn't been destroyed. The royal house and the legions never bothered looking for a way to do it."

His gaze flickered back to Nasser. "It mentioned that you, of all people, would understand what that means."

"A New Dawn," Nasser murmured after a brief pause, then clamped a hand over his mouth as if shocked. "So it was never an inevitable darkness to pave the way for that day. They let this happen on purpose?"

"So how does it plan to bring it down? And when?" Unlike Nasser, who was still processing his shock, Mev's voice carried an urgent edge.

Miguel shook his head. "It didn't tell me that much. It only told me this because it needed my help. The Platinum Dragon said that once the Wall falls—" Miguel's voice dropped. "Sir Ian will be in even greater danger."

"Even greater danger?"

"The Order and the royal house will come after him." It was Nasser who answered this time, having recovered from his initial shock.

"Most likely. I don't know the details. All I was told was to inform those who could stand beside him. To seek help from those who could give him strength." Miguel glanced between Mev and Nasser. "Those who can keep a secret. Those who can be trusted—like the two of you."

Mev's trembling gaze settled, her composure returning. When she nodded, her expression had shifted entirely—she was once again the knight Miguel knew.

She spoke, her voice far calmer now. "Who else knows about this?"

"The barbarians of the Snowfields. More specifically, a few elders and the centurions."

Nasser tilted his head. "Elders and centurions?"

"You probably don't know this, but Sir Ian was appointed as the Margrave of the Snowfields and unified the barbarian tribes. He became the true Great Warrior of the North."

"So they've chosen to stand with him?"

"That goes without saying. There's a commander in Karlingion who serves Sir Ian. When the time comes, he will throw open the fortress gates, and the warriors of the Snowfields will charge toward the Black Wall." Miguel answered without hesitation, then turned back to Mev. "This is just a formality, but—will you both accept the Platinum Dragon's request?"

"There's no need to even ask," Mev replied immediately with a faint smile. "The Platinum Dragon must have expected us to be part of the plan from the start."

"It did. It even left a few messages for you."

"A few?"

"First, it requested that I rely on you as my guide."

"Guide?" Nasser blinked in confusion.

Mev's smile deepened. "So it wants me to lead you to the South."