I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy Chapter 36

Chapter 36

The person looking down at them with a bewildered face was the captain of the guard who had previously taken the head of the four-eyed crocodile.

“Lord Declan! What exactly are you doing?” The captain guard asked.

“Sir Doran, go and fetch my brother. And my father too, if possible.” Declan said, halting in his tracks with his usual calm demeanor.

Doran’s face deepened with confusion. “How can you proceed with this without explaining the reason? This looks unmistakably like a rebellion against the lord!”

Doran was one of the few commanders in Orendel who had a close relationship with Declan, largely due to being the lowest ranked among the commanders and frequently crossing paths in the shantytown.

Sensing the concern in his voice, Declan smiled, “It’s quite the opposite. It’s my father and brother who have betrayed the people of Orendel and even the kingdom itself. They’ve even turned their backs on the Gods and fallen into corruption.”

“Cor… corruption?!” Doran paled, realizing the magnitude of the situation was beyond him.

“Wa… wait! I cannot allow you to advance any further!” Doran turned hastily after shouting, while Declan, arms crossed, calmly observed the guards on the wall.

The guards seemed more anxious than him since everyone gathered in front of the castle was silently watching them. Many of the guards saw faces they knew among the crowd. If this was a rebellion, it meant that they would have to aim their weapons at them.

Soon after, someone limped up to the wall, a middle-aged man with a gentle face, leaning on a long ebony cane. It was Marquess Burchard.

In the game, that guy convincingly portrayed the role of a father grieving over his son, Ian thought, regretting not having dealt with him when he had the chance.

“Father, you’ve arrived.” Declan bowed slightly.

The marquess, scanning the crowd, spoke, “Why have you done this, my son?”

“To expose the corruption and wrongdoings you, my father, and my brother have committed,” said Declan.

“How dare you speak such blasphemy when the glorious Lu Solar is watching,” said the Marquess Burchard.

“I’ve come fully aware already. That the reason you relocated the people was to rebel against the kingdom…” Declan continued his speech, with resentment and anger brewing in the eyes of the shantytown’s residents.

“And in doing so, you offered the soldiers of the Orendel as sacrifices to monsters. I have in my possession a list of those sacrificed by my father and brother.” Declan pulled out a scroll and began to call out the names written on it.

Grief and anger frosted the faces of Orendel’s inhabitants, causing unrest even among the soldiers on the wall who recognized the names.

“What evidence do you have for such absurd claims?”

The outcry did not come from Duke Burchard. It was Mason Burchard, the eldest son, who had climbed onto the wall. Behind him, soldiers armed with crossbows lined up.

“Despite knowing of your lowly birth, my father took you in as his son. And you repay his kindness with treachery, claiming him a traitor and corrupted with just a list?” Mason’s voice was filled with murderous intent, with his cold blue eyes sweeping over the crowd.

As the atmosphere turned icy, Declan calmly smiled, “I’m also pleased to see you, brother. Of course, there’s physical evidence. Sir Bradley, one of your confidants, has confessed everything.”

“What…?” said Mason.

“Sir Bradley even revealed his corrupted true form in front of me. Shall I show you?” With a snap of his fingers, Declan signaled.

The crowd parted, and Six-Fingers drove a cart forward. When the cart stopped in front of the wall, a few mercenaries lifted a large coffin from the cargo. As the lid opened, its contents spilled out onto the ground.

“Ugh…!”

The sight twisted the faces of both the civilians and the soldiers. Chopped-up body parts and flesh were scattered, emitting a foul stench. Those with weak stomachs turned away to vomit, as Declan proclaimed, “Look closely. This monster was once Sir Bradley!”

Even those who had averted their eyes looked back, confronted by a form more monstrous than human.

“Sir Bradley confessed everything. That my father and brother had fallen into corruption, and he too had succumbed! All the misdeeds he committed were under the orders of my father and brother!” Declan’s voice boomed powerfully.

Mason’s face broke into a smile soon after, “You’ve prepared thoroughly! Yes, to frame someone, such preparation is necessary! But how will you prove that the corpse is indeed Sir Bradley? To my eyes, it looks nothing more than a monster’s corpse.”

“Are you not the one who killed the innocent Sir Bradley and framed him, just as you are doing to me and our father now?” Mason glared at Declan.

“We have witnesses,” said Declan.

“I am one of those witnesses!”

“Me too! I saw it clearly with my own eyes!”

Patton and Six-Fingers, among other mercenaries, raised their hands.

“They’re all your mercenaries. Can their testimony be considered the truth?” Mason scoffed.

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“What about my brother, then?” a girl emerged from the crowd and suddenly shouted. “Why was my brother’s identification, who was supposed to be living well in Agel Lan, found abandoned in the forest…?”

It was the badge that Ian had recovered. She was Dave’s sister.

“Is my brother doing well?”

“What about my friend?! There’s been no contact!”

Following her lead, shouts erupted from various places.

As Mason’s face turned red,

“I understand your concerns and the reasons behind your doubts,” the marquess stepped forward, speaking in a tone much more amiable than that of his eldest son.

“If indeed these individuals were sacrificed due to events unknown to me, I will form an investigation team and send them. I will even request a direct investigation from His Majesty about my intentions and the absurd claims of our corruption… I will ask for an inspection and judgment from the imperial order.”

He spoke calmly, looking over the crowd, and added, “Does this appease your anger?”

“….”

“….”

The crowd, seemingly ready to storm the walls, hesitated. They hadn’t expected their requests to be fully accepted.

“If he could do that for us….” Someone muttered.

As expected. The lies of politicians are universal, Ian snorted dismissively, seeing the situation unfold as he had feared.

“Are you satisfied now? Then leave! Those who remain will be considered traitors!” Mason shouted and raised his hand.

Soldiers aimed their crossbows, and fear spread across the faces of the people. The mood had completely shifted.

However, Declan’s face bore a satisfied smile. He leisurely opened his mouth, “Did you just say you would accept the investigation by His Majesty and the judgment of the Order?”

“Yes. That’s what I said, my son,” the marquess replied, smiling back.

“Good. It so happens I know the perfect person for that.” Declan’s smile deepened.

“The perfect person…?” The marquess’s brows furrowed.

“Could you do that thing again? The one you did last time. Just the ending part, if possible.” Declan looked at Philip.

“That thing…? Ah, yes, that thing.” A smile spread across Philip’s face.

That thing, could it be? As Ian’s brows furrowed, Declan winked at him.

“We’re almost there. Just play along a little longer,” Declan whispered.

Ian stepped forward, with his expression tense.

“A mercenary…?”

“The one who dealt with the monster in the underground waterway, it seems.”

Soldiers murmured among themselves, recognizing him. Ian’s reputation had already spread throughout Orendel.

“The perfect person, you say. A mercenary, again.” Mason was about to sneer.

“Allow me to formally introduce him,” Shouted Philip.

Standing beside Ian, Philip called out in a clear, resonant voice, “Apostle of Tir En, enforcer of the southern border, the Blade of Agel Ran, Sir Mev Riurel’s sole and official agent, and a judge beloved by the Stern Goddess! Sir Ian Hope!”

…there’s more added? Ignoring Ian’s look, Philip respectfully bowed his head.

“And I am his servant, Philip.”

Mason and Marquess Burchard’s mouths gaped open momentarily, as did those of the other soldiers.

Acknowledging Philip, Declan added, “Moreover, Sir Hope personally witnessed Bradley’s corruption and was the one who judged him. This should more than qualify him, don’t you think?”

“…Absurd.” Marquess Burchard’s face twisted slowly, his previously benevolent expression turning into a facade.

“An official representative? A judge of Tir En? Are you suggesting he’s a paladin?” asked the marquess.

“Well, whether or not. What’s certain is that the divine judgment regarding you two will be directly bestowed by the Stern Goddess.” Declan looked at Ian as if all the pieces were now in place.

Ian, with a faint smile, unsheathed his Sword of Judgement, with its blade wreathed in blue divine flames.

“Ohhh…wow….”

“A paladin. He truly is a paladin…”

The soldiers and townsfolk gasped at the sight of the glowing sword, some even kneeling to pray. Shock spread across the faces of Marquess Burchard and Mason.

Ian’s brows furrowed slightly, sensing the divine energy was more intense than usual. Cold fury seemed to emanate from within the sword.

…Ah, right. This was another way for her to peek. Ian shrugged as he looked up at Marquess Burchard.

Right after the Marquess Burchard’s eyebrows twitched, Ian moved. His walk quickly turned into a sprint.

“Shoot, shoot! Why are you just watching?” Marquess Burchard belatedly cried out.

However, the crossbowmen hesitated.

“But, he’s an apostle of the God…!” Someone lamented.

Mason’s face contorted. “Do not forget whom you serve! Stop him now!”

Drawing his sword, Mason added, “Those who do not obey will be beheaded on the spot!”

Finally, the soldiers aimed at Ian. Their hands shook.

“Loose!”

Breeee!

The crossbows fired in unison. Though many bolts were poorly aimed, some flew straight toward Ian.

Swoosh!

But the bolts that neared Ian were caught in an unseen whirlwind, scattering in all directions. The Swirling Barrier enveloped him. Suddenly surrounded by winds, Ian reached the wall in a flash.

Tap-tap-tap!

Bounding up the wall like a bird, the wind propelled his body upwards. Hovering briefly in the air, Ian locked eyes with Mason.

“The judgment bestowed by the Goddess is…,” said Ian.

Raising the divinely charged sword above his head, he declared, “Death.”

A brilliant flash of light plummeted toward Mason. A blue trail in the air split Mason’s raised sword and pierced through his forearm. Mason’s right arm was severed, spraying blood.

“Aaah!” As Mason screamed, Ian’s gaze shifted toward Marquess Burchard in the distance.

I want him to turn mad and cause a scene. Could you do it? A prickling sensation continued in Ian’s fingers. The Swamp’s Resentment, which abhorred divine power, used Ian’s blood as a conduit, reaching toward Marquess Burchard. Of course, the external manifestation was much less impressive in the reality.

Transformed back into the form of a viper after becoming a specter, it merely bit the nape of Marquess Burchard’s neck. Caught off guard by Ian’s intrusion, the Duke seemed too startled to even feel the sting.

“This bastard!” the marquess shouted.

Ian tilted his head back. With a whoosh, Mason’s swinging arm grazed past his cheek. Stepping backward, Mason clutched his severed forearm.

“What are you doing? Stop him, all of you!” Mason shouted.

Ian surveyed the surrounding soldiers, seeing fear in their eyes. Holding his sword imbued with divine power, he declared, “It seems the blood of the corrupted alone will suffice for today.”

“Ri…right.” With a clang, the closest soldier dropped his spear. Other soldiers began to drop their crossbows and spears as well.

“Sir Doran! Order the soldiers to stand down!” Declan’s shout followed.

The captain of the guard snapped to attention and bellowed, “All guards, stand down! All regular troops, withdraw! This is not our fight!”

The soldiers, as if relieved, began to retreat.

Mason’s face twisted in frustration.

“These less than worthless creatures…! It seems we must retreat to the inner castle Father!” Mason called out as he hesitantly stepped back.

“Father…?” Mason’s eyes widened in shock upon checking the marquess’s condition.