I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 377

"Ah, yes. As I mentioned, they've returned to their lands." Snapping out of his thoughts, Miguel nodded quickly and repeated what he had said earlier.

Cherwyn placed her clasped hands on the desk and spoke. "I think I need to know how that came to be."

The North was still in chaos. The Karlingion front was the only one that successfully held off the invasion. Helinese Fortress was half-destroyed, and Ksanid had fallen. Many smaller fronts had also been breached. And with those breaches came a flood of monsters.

Of course, not all of them survived. Most of the creatures tainted by the Black Wall's madness perished soon after, under the sunlight. Yet some still roamed the wilderness at night, and others had retreated beyond the demonic realms created by the crimson lightning.

Much time and manpower were still needed to quell the chaos completely. The Crimson Legion's withdrawal was, in itself, another significant problem.

Miguel hesitated briefly before speaking in a subdued tone. "When we realized what we had feared most had actually happened... no one was in their right mind. Everyone rushed toward the Black Wall in a frenzy, desperate to breach it. When they realized they couldn't cross it, they even tried to break it down."

His gaze grew distant, his furrowed brow deepening as though he were forcing himself to recall difficult memories. "No one could be stopped. In truth, no one even tried. I was half out of my mind myself."

"Once they understood crossing the wall was impossible, they must have refused to leave the front lines," Cherwyn added calmly.

Miguel immediately nodded. "Yes. They decided to stay stationed at the wall until it stabilized... even if it took years. At the time, I agreed with their decision as well."

It must have been solely out of the desire to retrieve Lucia.

Cherwyn nodded, understanding, though her eyes narrowed slightly. "The Archduke didn't allow it, did he?"

"A few days after the garrison reported the situation, orders arrived. The Legion was to move to other fronts. But that wasn't the only issue. It was what was written in addition that sparked real outrage."

At Cherwyn's sharp gaze, Miguel clicked his tongue and frowned before continuing. "Brother—no, the Great Warrior—was declared deceased. They expressed their deepest condolences and regrets. They added that his funeral and commemoration would be held grandly, once the chaos in the North had been quelled, and that he would be canonized as a Saint by the Order."

"That is..." Cherwyn closed her eyes tightly and sighed. "The Archduke made a poor move. His intentions are clear, but he overreached."

Archduke Olaf's decision was understandable. From his perspective, anyone who vanished beyond the Black Wall was as good as dead. He likely saw this as his chance to seize control of the Dragon Slayer’s Legion. But it was premature.

Even Miguel, standing here, was certain the Great Warrior was still alive beyond the wall.

If it were her, Cherwyn thought, she would have chosen differently. She would have entrusted the restoration and monitoring of Karlingion to the Barbarian Legion and moved the remaining troops to other fronts. After all, the Black Wall wouldn't stabilize for several more years.

"The Legion refused to follow those orders. In fact, there were even talks of taking more drastic actions. Some saw it as a grave insult to the Great Warrior... In any case."

Miguel cleared his throat, brushing his steel prosthetic hand over his head, seemingly unwilling to delve further into that subject.

"We couldn't remain on the front lines any longer, so I had no choice but to persuade them to return to the Snowfields. The only reasonable justification for disobeying orders was to purge the demonic realms and monsters in the Snowfields. Sir Lucas, the commander of the front lines, lent his help."

Miguel avoided going into further detail, but it had undoubtedly been a difficult process.

Cherwyn, rather than pressing for more, nodded."You're not wrong. I've heard that quite a number of monsters have flowed into the snowfield region. So, everyone crossed the barrier, then?"

"Yes. They even took the settlers with them. I remained only until I confirmed they had all crossed the barrier, then returned here."

"I see. At least the North will stabilize. They'll stake their lives to protect it."

"Of course. But..." Miguel's voice dipped lower. "When the time comes, nothing short of death will stop them from crossing the wall."

Despite his concerned tone, his eyes burned with resolve. It was clear he wasn't merely supporting the Legion's cause—he had resolved to cross the wall with them.

Cherwyn noticed this but didn't let it show. "It seems I'll have to write the report to the Great Church myself, as well as the message to the Archduke."

"To the Archduke as well?"

Miguel tilted his head slightly, and Cherwyn replied casually. "I must express our regret. Considering the Agent of the Saint as dead is equivalent to considering the Order's new spark extinguished.

Miguel froze, his eyes widening.

“Both are alive, aren't they? So, the governance of the Snowfields and the command of the Crimson Legion still rightfully belong to the Margrave."

He immediately realized that the Saintess of the Brazier was openly defending the Dragon Slayer's Legion. This also implied that the Temple of Brazier shared their cause.

Before Miguel could respond, Cherwyn picked up a piece of parchment. "Is there anything you'd like to add?"

Miguel shook his head but hesitated, blinking a few times before speaking. "It's not an addition, but may I make a personal request?"

"Let's hear it."

"The horse I rode here... I'd like to care for it personally from now on. Would that be acceptable?"

Cherwyn set the parchment down and tilted her head. "That's not a difficult request, but it's unusual. Do you have a reason?"

"Well, it's the horse ridden by the Superhuman of the North."

Cherwyn froze, lifting her head to look at Miguel.

He continued in a calm tone, "It's also a steed blessed by the Blazing Goddess."

"There's no reason to refuse. Go ahead. If possible, arrange for it to breed as well. If it's graced by the Goddess, its offspring will be exceptional."

Cherwyn replied as she turned her attention to the quill pen beside her, adding as she reached for it, "It's late. You should take your leave and rest for a few days. The temple is short-handed, so please stay and handle the backlog of tasks."

"Understood." Miguel placed his steel prosthetic hand over his chest and bowed deeply before turning to leave.

Click.

As the door closed, Cherwyn stared down at the parchment for a moment before setting the quill down again. Closing her eyes, she covered her face with both hands. From between her fingers, a deep sigh that she had been suppressing for a long time finally escaped.

Her hands trembled faintly as she muttered in a low, resigned voice, almost like a sigh."Oh, Blazing Goddess... please, protect the spark. Let it not extinguish, even in the darkness and cold... please..."

Miguel was no different, finally letting the emotions he had been holding back surface as he stepped into the dimly lit corridor. Here, at least, there was no need to be conscious of others' gazes. Since most priests remained in the North, the temple was nearly deserted.

"Damn it..."

Walking down the corridor, he pressed his fingers against his temples.

The image of Lucia being seized by the monster's claws and lifted into the air refused to leave his mind. Nor could he forget Ian, who had surged forward, fused with chaos to capture the creature. The radiant purple trail leading toward the Black Wall still lingered vividly in his memory.

That the Superhuman of the North carried chaos within him was a secret known only to Miguel and the Legionnaires. It was also one of the strongest reasons they believed Ian and Lucia were still alive.

While the Barbarian Legion had boasted that the Great Warrior had even subdued chaos itself, at Miguel's earnest request, they eventually agreed to keep silent.

Of course, even if rumors did spread, no one would believe them. Still, it was best to ensure those rumors never surfaced in the first place.

I know you wouldn't want this, brother. But when the time comes, I'll follow.

Lost in thought, Miguel stepped into his room. It was a small, sparse space, containing only a simple desk and a bed. The only source of light was a small window high on the wall, leaving the room shrouded in darkness.

Despite his overwhelming fatigue, he didn't lie down immediately. Instead, he sat at the desk. There were still people who needed to be informed. The red-haired knight and the paladin who had sworn loyalty to the Superhuman of the North—at the very least, they needed to know what had transpired here.

However, he hesitated to light the candle. He couldn't bring himself to do it, uncertain of how the recipients of his letters would react. The method of delivering the letters posed another problem. Philip might still be in the capital, but Mev had vanished to the borderlands.

Waiting for them to hear the rumors and come here would take far too long. Damn it, do I have to track them down myself?

He truly didn't want to, but if it was necessary, he would have to do it. He couldn't ignore the sense of duty and responsibility pressing down on him—likely another name for the guilt he carried.

At last, as though steeling himself, Miguel clenched his jaw and reached for the candle.

Swoosh.

Suddenly, without warning, light flooded the room. It wasn't thunder; the light had spread out directly behind him.

Frozen mid-reach, Miguel heard a soft voice speak. "Forgive me for arriving so suddenly."

The voice was neither distinctly male nor female. It was smooth and beautiful, yet it carried an eerie undercurrent that sent a chill down his spine.

"What the— Damn it!" Miguel sprang to his feet as if recoiling, instinctively pressing his back against the wall as he turned.

On his bed sat a figure clad in a thin white hooded cloak, seated with unnerving poise.

The hands that emerged from the cloak's sleeves were pale and slender, as long and white as the cloak itself. Revealed up to the nose, the face beneath the hood was flawlessly beautiful, almost inhuman.

The figure's thin lips parted. "I have something I wish to hear from you, Miguel."

"Who... who are you? How do you—"

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Before he could finish asking how they knew his name, the small window high on the wall flashed with light. This time, it was thunder.

As the room brightened briefly and then dimmed again, shadows deepened and faded beneath the hood.

But in that brief instant, Miguel caught the flash of bright yellow eyes glowing within the darkness.

"Do not fear. I am an ally of your friend."

The lips beneath the hood curved faintly into a serene smile.

"And in this era, many call me Platinum."

It was more than enough to turn Miguel into a frozen statue.

"By Lu Entre, have mercy." Miguel barely let out a sigh before he collapsed to one knee, bowing his head deeply.

"Gr-Great Platinum—"

"Let's dispense with the cumbersome formalities, shall we? A friend of a friend is a friend, after all." The Platinum Dragon softly interrupted him.

As Miguel's lips opened and closed soundlessly, the dragon continued in a gentle tone.

"I trust you already know what it is I've come to hear. So, stand up. I have many things I wish to know, and that posture isn't ideal for a long conversation, is it?"

"W-where should I—" Miguel stammered, lifting his head hesitantly. "Where should I begin?"

But as he looked up at the Platinum Dragon's face, his breath caught again.

Despite the dragon's soft voice, the brilliant yellow eyes beneath the hood weren't smiling at all. Instead, they radiated an icy coldness that seemed to freeze Miguel's very soul.

The dragon's piercing gaze bore into him as its lips parted again.

"From the very beginning to the very end. If it concerns that child, leave nothing out. Tell me everything."