I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 323

"Hey, that name sounds familiar."

The mercenary's murmured words, spoken with indifference, were abruptly cut off as if sliced by a knife. A deep frown creased his forehead as he stared at Ian.

"Did you just say, Ian Hope?" His voice, now louder than before, seemed to echo through the room, silencing the lively chatter in an instant.

Every man and woman in the tavern paused what they were doing and turned to look in their direction. Ian instinctively glanced at them, feeling the weight of their collective gaze.

Thanks to his heightened senses, he could see almost every face in the room at a glance.

Not a single familiar face among them.

At that moment, he felt one side of Lucia’s cloak subtly bulge. She had bent her elbow, likely moving her hand to the handle of the flail strapped to her back. It was not an overreaction; the stares they received were far from welcoming. Distrust, suspicion, and overt hostility shone in the eyes of the onlookers.

... Ah, right. There must have been some audacious imposters claiming to be me.

Ian stifled a silent chuckle. It made sense for them to doubt first. This was a world where not only the fairies but countless others lied without hesitation.

"Yes, Ian Hope," Ian responded calmly.

The mercenary’s eyes narrowed further. He scrutinized Ian’s dark eyes as if trying to uncover something before finally speaking.

"Can you prove it?"

Lucia, who had been ready to step forward, hesitated. Ian’s left arm subtly stretched out beneath his cloak to hold her back.

Maintaining eye contact with the mercenary, Ian asked, "Can you read?"

The mercenary’s brow twitched a reaction that spoke volumes. Ian gave a slight nod and added, "Then just go and fetch Trude. That will be proof enough."

The mercenary stayed rooted in place, his frosty glare locked onto Ian, laced with offense. The others followed suit, their stony expressions pushing Ian to swallow a tired sigh.

... Why do mercenaries always choose the hard way when the simple path is right there? Do they really need a beating to listen?

Just as Ian subtly clenched his fist under his cloak,

"My heavens, oh, Karha...!"

An unexpected exclamation rang out. It came from just in front of the kitchen.

"You... you’ve returned...!" said a Northern maid with wide, astonished eyes.

Ian’s lips curled slightly as he glanced at her. She was a familiar face. The first one he recognized in this place was a maid.

"It’s been a while."

She had been working at the inn when Ian had stayed there previously. He had even used her as an intermediary to bring him small errands from around the city. Judging by her expression and reaction, she must have already known for some time that the man who once stayed in the city was none other than the Dragon Slayer. After all, it hadn't been more than a few months.

"Do... Do you remember me...?"

The maid asked, appearing even more surprised.

Ian shrugged. "You remember me, don’t you?"

"Of course, I do...." Her lips parted before a bright smile spread across her face. She clasped her hands behind her back and gave a respectful northern-style bow. "It is an honor, Great Warrior."

Her gaze then swept the room.

Taking in the mercenaries, whose expressions had just shifted, she frowned. "What’s everyone doing? The Dragon Slayer has returned. Don’t tell me you failed to recognize him?"

Visit frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓ for the b𝘦st novel reading experience.

The mercenaries’ eyes widened as if they’d just snapped out of a daze, and they looked back at Ian.

The silence didn’t last long.

"The Hero of the North...!"

"Glory be to the radiant light...."

"So the captain really knew the Dragon Slayer... Lu Solar, my gods...."

A sudden commotion swept through the room. Some people ducked down as if they had fallen out of their chairs, while others sprang up and bowed in the northern fashion. There were even a few who stared blankly, mumbling to themselves. The responses matched the diversity of the attire and races present.

... Should I call this a mess or just typical mercenary behavior?

With a subtle smirk, Ian turned back to face the mercenary in front of him. When Ian’s eyes met his, the man, frozen like a statue, blinked in shock. Color visibly drained from his face.

"P-Please forgive my rudeness, Dragon Slayer...!" He hastily bowed his head.

Before he could say anything more, Ian interrupted, "Trude. Now."

"Y-Yes...!" The mercenary spun around and scrambled up the wooden stairs along the wall as if crawling on all fours.

"Quiet down, everyone." Ian’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

An abrupt silence fell. The mercenaries exchanged glances before standing awkwardly and giving small bows. With a nod at Lucia, Ian finally moved forward.

Creak—

The rear door, which had been closed, opened at that moment. Miguel poked his head inside and took in the scene with a chuckle before stepping in.

"I thought you might be busy thrashing everyone. Glad to see that’s not the case."

"It nearly came to that," Ian replied nonchalantly and glanced at the maid.

"Prepare two meals. With meat."

"Two, not three?"

"I’ll eat after handling my business. Until then, I’ll stick with just drinks."

"Should I bring the strongest one we have?"

"An honor that you remember," Ian said, with a slight pull of his lips.

The maid, returning his smile, quickly dashed into the kitchen. Meanwhile, Ian sat down at the center table, where he had a clear view of the stairs. He didn’t need to ask anyone to move.

As he approached, the mercenaries instinctively stepped back, leaving a wide room as if an invisible barrier surrounded him. No one spoke. They only cast nervous glances his way.

"Damn, this is ridiculously uncomfortable," Miguel muttered, unable to hold it in as he sat down opposite Ian, next to Lucia. Ian looked over at the mercenaries.

"It’d be nice if you all sat down."

"Y-Yes...!"

"Yes, Dragon Slayer...!"

The mercenaries scrambled to find chairs, and those without seats crouched down in the corners. Even after settling in, no one touched their drinks or spoke. The room remained steeped in silence.

"It’s better than them just staring, I guess," Miguel muttered with a dry laugh before looking back at Ian.

"Has it always been like this whenever you revealed who you are?"

"Not always this extreme, but close enough," Ian replied.

It was understandable, given the circumstances. This was the North, and these were the Dragon Slayer’s Warriors. Trude, their captain, had even fought alongside Ian, likely exaggerating Ian’s feats to bolster his reputation and authority.

"I can see why you’d prefer not to reveal your identity. If this is what it’s like everywhere you go, it must make even eating a piece of bread hard. Right, Lucy?"

"It reminds me of when I first joined the temple."

"Oh, right. For a few days, it was just like this. Though come to think of it, I still ate pretty well back then."

"Just try to take it naturally," Ian added with a low chuckle. "It’ll only get worse as we head further north, so you’d better get used to it."

Unlike before, he would need to use his reputation and authority to their fullest. The Dragon Slayer’s warriors were just the beginning.

"Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you can maintain your dignity and stay solemn. Lucy and I will back you up every step of the way. That dark-skinned fellow has already briefed us on everything we need to know," Miguel said, lowering his voice and exchanging a meaningful glance with Lucia.

She nodded, her eyes showing an unusual spark of determination.

So that’s why they were so eager to step up. That Nasser kid..., Ian thought, shaking his head slightly.

At that moment, the maid returned with a tray of drinks and glasses. "Please wait a bit longer for the food."

"Take your time; we’re not in a rush," Ian replied.

"Yes." Despite his reassurance, the maid hurried back to the kitchen with quick steps.

"Alright, folks, at least make some noise when you breathe. You all look like ghouls—oh, thanks," Miguel said as he took the glass Ian handed him. His words had no effect; the mercenaries remained frozen like mice before a cat.

However, Ian had no intention of easing the tension. Given his purpose for being there, it was better if the mercenaries found him intimidating and formidable.

That way, they won’t even think about running.

Mercenaries had a habit of thinking of something else as soon as things became too comfortable.

Brings back memories, Ian thought as he downed his drink in one go.

The liquid burned down his throat, leaving a chill in its wake. It wasn’t a drink one could call pleasant, but to him, who no longer felt the effects of intoxication, the sharp bite was almost welcome—especially after being tired of overly sweet or sour drinks.

"Well, someone’s quick to show up," Miguel muttered just as Ian reached for the bottle to refill his glass after finishing his first.

Thud, thud—

A large Northlander charged down the stairs as if he would break them, just moments after.

The man had unkempt black hair and a beard, his face covered in numerous scars, both big and small. This was Trude, the Northlander mercenary who had founded the Dragon Slayer’s Warriors.

"By the gods, the legendary warrior of the North...!"

He froze at the bottom of the stairs, staring at Ian’s profile as he sipped from his glass.

"I couldn't believe it, but it really is you, Captain!"

"Yes, it’s me." Ian finally turned his head, taking in Trude’s figure as he added, "You've grown bigger since I last saw you."

"Haha...! True, I’ve put on some weight!" Trude burst into a hearty laugh.

However, Ian did not smile. He simply watched Trude for a moment before lifting his glass to his lips.

"Ha, haha... You haven’t changed at all..." Trude’s laughter soon faded. His eyes, now steady on Ian, took on a peculiar look as if the initial shock had worn off. It was only then that the question of why Ian had come seemed to dawn on him.

"... Anyway." The realization only showed for a moment before Trude’s gaze swept the room. "What are you all just sitting there for? Your true leader has returned! If I catch you—"

"Enough." Ian interrupted as he set down his glass. "I’m not here for greetings."

Trude's mouth shut mid-sentence.

"What, don’t we count?" Miguel interjected lightly.

Trude’s gaze finally shifted to the two sitting across from Ian.

With a rough grin, Miguel waved his metal prosthetic arm. "Long time no see. I swear, you really did bulk up. You could pass for a bear now."

"Long time indeed... Priest. And..." Trude stammered before letting his eyes fall on Lucia, who was seated beside Miguel, nervously licking his lips. "... Future Saintess."

His tone sounded more deflated than truly pleased as if the realization had just hit that they were not there simply for a friendly visit.

Ian looked at Miguel while pouring another drink. "You two know each other?"

"Well, after that incident, I went to Travelga looking for you, remember? It turned out to be a waste, though. But I ended up getting acquainted with them. They were tight-lipped about you, of course, but still."

"Ah, right..."

Seems like they were all getting tangled up behind my back.

Ian smirked slightly and glanced at Trude, who wore an ambiguous smile. It was as if he could hear the wheels turning in the man’s head. It was hard to tell whether Trude was more worried about his past misdeeds being exposed or about Ian’s current reason for visiting. Perhaps it was both.

"Well, in any case, have you eaten? It’s cold out, so you should have something warm—" Trude hastily spoke as Ian’s eyes met his, but the commotion on the stairs interrupted him.

Trude quickly stepped aside, and a group of men practically tumbled down the steps right after.

"Damn, this..." Still kneeling or seated on the floor, the men stared at Ian, too stunned to get back up, whispering in disbelief.

"I can’t believe it... It really is the Captain."

"To think you’d return so suddenly...!"

"Do you remember us, Captain?"

Ian’s lips curled into a faint smile. "Hard to forget faces as distinctive as yours."

Finally, these were familiar faces. Ian also realized why he had recognized no one earlier in the tavern. Trude and the original members had apparently been playing big shots for a while. In truth, it wouldn’t have been surprising if they had actually become influential figures.

"Haha, you haven’t changed a bit...!"

"Captain, you haven’t changed at all! It’s as if we just saw you yesterday!"

Their laughter filled the room as Ian took another sip from his glass and spoke.

"You all look quite prosperous now."

At his calm words, the laughter quickly died down. Ian scanned the faces before him.

"You’re all wearing fine clothes. Looks like life’s been good." Ian added, bringing the glass to his lips.

The men glanced uneasily at Trude, sensing that something was off, just as he had. The maid, holding a tray of food, emerged at that moment.

Beads of cold sweat glistened on Trude’s forehead as he quickly spoke up. "You must’ve had a long journey; we were too talkative before you even had a chance to eat, right? Don’t you all remember what Captain hates most?"

"R-Right, the Captain hates being bothered unnecessarily. That’s why he seemed displeased."

"Please, have your meal, Captain. Don’t mind us."

The officers nodded awkwardly as they stood. Trude, turning smoothly, added, "We’ll head up and change into proper attire. We rushed down in such a hurry that we’re all a mess."

"Hold it."

Trude and the officers froze mid-step. Ian nodded toward the table. The maid was only setting the dishes in front of Lucia and Miguel.

"I don’t have much of an appetite yet."

"Ah... haha. Right. You never did like all the fuss," Trude said, casting a sidelong glance at the room so silent a pin drop could be heard.

"In this kind of atmosphere, you wouldn't feel like eating, would you? I’ll send everyone out, so you can—"

"Ah, that won’t do," Miguel interjected, still eyeing the plates of food in front of him.

"Is there a need to spread the word that the Dragon Slayer has returned to the entire city? Besides, we need the help of these friends here. So for today...."

Miguel glanced at the group, his scarred face twisting into a grin. "No one is leaving this place."

The mercenaries, sitting rigidly, flinched as Trude and the officer’s gazes naturally shifted back to Ian.

"Well, that’s how it is." Ian took a sip of his drink, nodding slightly. "These two here are my aides. Each has their own role in assisting me."

"If... that’s the case, of course, we’ll cooperate. Absolutely."

"And we have things to discuss as well." Ian’s calm statement drew the officers’ eyes back to Trude, who was wearing an awkward smile as if painted on his face.

Finally, Trude nodded, "Of course, after all this time...."

"So, let’s head to your room."

Trude’s smile stiffened abruptly. As if hit directly, he momentarily held his breath, then responded in a controlled voice.

"My room... you mean?"

"It’ll be easier for everyone here to handle their business without us in the way, won’t it?"

Ian added with a sly smirk. "Why, is there something in there I shouldn’t see?"