I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain-Chapter 243

The crystal ball shattered into pieces, and the soul that had been flickering inside shot out like an arrow, piercing the ceiling and disappearing. It was returning to its vessel, as per the natural order. Simultaneously, the voice that had been resonating in the air was abruptly silenced, as if cut by a knife.

Shwaa—

Ian slid to a stop past the altar. The flickering spell circuits in the chamber calmed and went silent, like a broken fluorescent light finally dimming. With the controlling entity gone, the circuits seemed to have switched to a standby mode.

At least there won’t be any more chaos.

Ian stood up and took a deep breath, looking at the pedestal. The ominous purple void mark glowed in the center of the stone. Despite having used a significant amount of power, the mark still radiated a formidable force. It created an illusion that seemed to draw one into the mark. A normal person would have been ensnared by it—one of the basic traits of void magic.

"...."

A deep resonance echoed from within Ian. The fragment of chaos was resonating, urging him to absorb that power.

Not yet.

He muttered inwardly, reaching into his pocket dimension instead of the mark. Soon, he pulled out a small, square wooden box, slightly larger than his palm. It was the storage box that had once held the dark relic, the Skull of the Rift Walker, possessed by the Vampire Empress. If it could safely contain such a dark relic, it should easily hold the void mark.

It looks like it might not fit...

The problem was the size of the stone. Clicking his tongue briefly, Ian drew his sword.

Crack!

The white blade struck the edge of the stone fragment. Despite its appearance, it was quite brittle, breaking apart with a sharp crack. The mark’s power remained undisturbed.

It seems fine…

Nodding slightly, Ian continued to chip away at the stone. Pieces broke off, and the stone became smaller. When it reached an appropriate size, he finally knocked the stone with the mark into the box with the flat of his blade.

The stone piece rolled into the box without resistance, and with a click, the lid of the box closed.

Simultaneously, the purple glow of the spell circuits in the chamber began to fade. Conversely, a faint light spread across the surface of the box, revealing the intricately engraved spell circuits.

Ian was about to toss the box back into his pocket dimension when the chamber suddenly shook.

Rumble—

... I don’t want to get buried again.

Despite his thoughts, Ian’s gaze shifted toward the desk beyond the stone chamber.

***

Crack!

Kralen, having fallen, was buried in a pile of rubble in the corner. As a reddish shockwave swept past the area, the earthquake in the chamber subsided.

Rumble...

"Ha... Haha...."

A laugh escaped from between Kralen’s lips as he opened his eyes. His appearance was anything but good. All his limbs had been severed, and only one wing remained, barely half intact. His face was a mess, and a gaping wound, like a gash from an axe, ran from his neck down to the middle of his chest, oozing black fluid.

Thud-

Everything was the result of the Avatar of Vengeance, who was landing in front of him.

The one who had granted him three deaths and would likely deliver the fourth, and finally, death.

Unlike Kralen, Mev, gripping her crimson sword, appeared largely unchanged from the beginning. The only differences were her slightly heavier breathing and the divine power enveloping her entire body. Each time she was attacked by Kralen, her divine power had grown stronger, now casting a dark red aura around her.

As he stared at the impending death approaching him, Kralen suddenly spoke.

"Just one question."

"...."

"Why do you seek revenge against me? I don’t recall wronging an Apostle of Stern Goddess."

Mev paused momentarily before responding. "You wouldn’t know me. I’m just one of the many victims created by your minions."

"... A frontier origin, then. Where from?"

"Agel Lan."

"Agel Lan...?"

"Does the name Regis mean anything to you?"

Kralen’s brows furrowed for a moment before a peculiar smile spread across his face.

"Yes, I remember now.... Regis. Regis Brant... Was he the one who fancied himself the Duke of that small kingdom?"

"That’s correct."

"I only knew him by name. I didn’t know exactly what he did. I just knew he was one of the seeds of darkness and sought immortality. So I allowed the sponsorship. I heard he ultimately failed, though...."

Kralen continued, watching Mev slowly but steadily approaching. "So, you killed him as well."

"Yes, though not by myself."

"Heh... So, vengeance sprouted from that seed. Makes sense. I sowed many seeds, so it wouldn’t be strange for it to spring up anywhere."

His bitter smile lasted only a moment before Kralen looked up at Mev again and spoke.

"However, I will not apologize."

"...." Mev stopped in front of Kralen, the holy power enveloping her body, dripping down like sticky liquid.

Kralen continued nonchalantly. "I wanted to turn this world upside down and create a new one. No matter what, sacrifices had to be made. So even if I could turn back time, I would make the same—"

Slash—

Mev’s sword drew a crimson line.

Kralen’s severed head spun through the air before rolling to a stop in the pile of debris. Black tar-like blood gushed from the severed neck. His twitching body lost all strength.

Mev, who had frozen with her sword outstretched, finally lowered her blade. She only glanced at Kralen’s corpse briefly.

"----!"

Mev bent over and howled, the sound more filled with grief than triumph at her long-awaited vengeance. The holy power within her flared up and dissipated like heat waves in response to her scream.

From the end of the hallway on the second floor, Ian watched quietly, closing the quest completion window before leaping down.

The mansion had already returned to its original state, and the persistent screams had ceased. However, Mev still lay collapsed in front of Kralen’s lifeless body.

Ian slowly walked toward her.

With all the holy power evaporated, Mev’s back looked especially pale. There was no need for him to say anything.

"My lord! Are you alright? My lord!" Philip burst out onto the third-floor hallway, shouting urgently. He looked disheveled as if he had been in a rough fight.

"Are you hurt? My lord! Please answer me!"

"... I’m fine, Philip," Mev replied in a calm voice as she slowly stood up.

Clank, her helmet automatically retracted into the back of her armor. She turned to look at Ian, who stood among the debris. Her green eyes, filled with a mixture of emotions, met his briefly before she looked upward.

"And the revenge is over, Philip."

"...!" Philip’s expression twisted.

It was an odd look, neither smiling nor crying, as memories seemed to flood his mind. He bit his lower lip just as Thesaya shoved Philip aside and leaped over the railing.

"Move aside, freckle-face." The height of the third floor didn’t seem to bother her as she jumped down without hesitation.

"Whoa, whoa...!" Philip, barely clinging to the edge of the hallway, flailed his arms, making an awkward sound as he snapped out of his reverie.

"It was absolute chaos, Ian! Of course, nothing compared to what you all went through, but it was pretty intense here too."

Thesaya landed lightly with bent knees and spoke without looking up. Her face showed signs of the battle’s aftermath. She was covered in dust, with multiple small scratches on her face, and her long silver hair was singed and curly in places.

"Freckles and that knight were flashing everywhere, and the mage I was fighting kept casting spells, even after losing his head. I thought I was going to die. Honestly, I almost did at least once."

Despite everything, her words lightened the mood.

Ian chuckled and replied, "But you won in the end, right?"

"Of course. But..."

Looking around the mess of the chamber nonchalantly, Thesaya added, "Where’s the cat? Where’s the kitty?"

Ian blinked and exchanged a glance with Mev before responding.

"Didn’t you see it on your way?"

"No, I didn’t. Weren’t you on the same floor? Wait, I think I hear something—"

Crash!

At that moment, a loud noise erupted as the wall above them crumbled. It was the hallway opposite where the group stood, even higher up on the fourth floor.

The three of them quickly stepped back to avoid the falling debris. Ian glanced up, raising an eyebrow as he saw two beastfolk entangled and falling.

When did they get all the way over there?Maybe they took a big detour.

In the midst of it, Charlotte fell with Palmer beneath her, crashing into the center of the debris pile.

Boom!

Debris and dust scattered in all directions as Palmer absorbed the full impact of the fall. Blood spurted from his mouth like a crimson arrow.

Crash—

Palmer tumbled across the floor, and Charlotte landed cat-like at the point of impact, pushing off him as she did.

Her appearance was a wreck. Her armor was torn in numerous places, and nearly every exposed part of her body was covered in wounds. The red holy power flickered as if it might extinguish at any moment. The deep gashes across one side of her face were so severe that they would undoubtedly leave scars, though it was a miracle her eye was unharmed.

Thesaya, eyes wide with alarm, drew her rapier and shouted, "Kitty! Let me help—"

"Stay out of this!" Charlotte’s voice, laced with a low growl, interrupted as she glared at Palmer, who lay sprawled on the floor.

"... He’s mine."

"Oh, okay... got it...."

Feeling awkward, Thesaya sheathed her sword as Charlotte launched herself forward with explosive force.

Palmer, barely managing to get on all fours, glared at Charlotte with his blurry, ash-gray eyes.

... Right, he wasn’t drawing power from Kralen.

Nodding to himself, Ian watched as Charlotte clashed with Palmer. Palmer, a berserker who served the Primal Wildness—a God of the beastfolk banished to the void—was a formidable opponent. This battle was clearly significant to Charlotte.

Defeating Palmer had important implications for her. Many of the beastfolk were already worshipping Kruxica, and failing to defeat one of the Apostles of Kruxica would make it impossible for her to lead her people.

"----!"

Fortunately, Charlotte had already gained the upper hand.

Crack!

She kneed Palmer in the jaw, then climbed atop him, raising her fist. Her bare, blackened knuckles came down in a bloody arc.

Thud! Crack!

Charlotte repeatedly hammered her fists into Palmer. His attempts to push her off grew weaker and weaker. She did not stop. Palmer’s arms finally went limp, only twitching with each subsequent punch.

"Phew... phew...."

At last, Charlotte ceased her assault, breathing heavily. Both she and Palmer were devoid of any remaining holy power. Sensing victory, she raised both arms and let out a roar. Blood splattered from her fur and mane in all directions.

She then stood, grabbing Palmer by the scruff of the neck, and turned to the group. Her orange eyes were now much calmer, as if the roar had purged all traces of the battle’s frenzy.

"... Is it all over?" Charlotte asked, looking at Ian.

He simply nodded in response.

"Good...." Charlotte swayed, dropping Palmer back to the floor.

"Kitty!" Thesaya shouted as she rushed over to support her.

"Not yet... it’s not over yet, pointy ears," Charlotte muttered, patting Thesaya’s shoulder with a blood-stained hand as she drew the Purifier’s Truesilver Steel Sword from her side.

Charlotte flipped Palmer’s body over with her foot and kneeled down. Reaching out with her left hand, she grabbed Palmer’s segmented armored tail and lifted it. Gripping the dagger tightly in her right hand, she brought it down with force.

Crunch!

The dagger severed Palmer’s tail in one clean cut. Despite being unconscious, Palmer’s body convulsed violently.

Charlotte stood up, holding the dripping tail, and staggered slightly. Ian met her gaze with a slight smile and a nod.

"Is it okay to just cut it off like that?"

"... Yes." Charlotte finally rested her left arm on Thesaya’s shoulder, who frowned at the tail Charlotte held. Blood from the severed end was dripping onto Thesaya’s greaves and boots.

"This one worshipped the wrong master. It seemed like he even led several young warriors of our tribe down the same path. It’s only fitting he faces severe punishment."

"So, are you planning to cut off the tails of all who serve Kruxica?"

"I hadn’t thought that far, but...."

Charlotte glanced at the limp tail in her grip, her voice calm as she continued.

"That’s a good suggestion. I’ll do it if necessary."

"...."

Did I just make a bad suggestion?

While Ian chuckled to himself, Philip landed among the debris. He had carefully descended floor by floor until he reached the ground.

"Phew...."

Philip sighed in relief and then looked at the fallen Palmer.

"So why keep this one alive? You don’t mean to tell me that cutting off his tail is as good as killing him, do you?"

"Of course not. It’s just a temporary reprieve. Interrogating him will give us a better understanding of the state of our tribe." Charlotte paused and then turned her gaze to Ian.

She cautiously added, looking at Palmer with a neutral expression. "Is that alright with you? If you permit it, I’ll ensure he causes no more trouble. If not—"

"That’s not why I was looking at him. Do what you need to. He’s your opponent and your kin." Ian cut her off, shrugging his shoulders. "Since you defeated him and have cut his tail, he can’t defy you now. Isn’t that right?"

"Not what I intended, but probably. Then... why were you looking at him that way?"

"It seems like the perfect opportunity. Keeping at least one of them alive wouldn’t be a bad idea."

"...?" Charlotte blinked in confusion.

Ian, letting out a low chuckle, added, "Not sure why you’re so puzzled. Did you forget what we’ve just done? We need to clean up the mess."