I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 8

"What on earth... Ian?!" Mev's eyes widened in disbelief as she turned her head, only to see Ian already far away.

"Stop right now! Come back!" Mev cried out in desperation.

However, despite her urgent plea, Ian was swiftly engulfed by a wave of wolves, disappearing from her sight.

"What a reckless move he's made...!" Philip exclaimed in horror, witnessing Ian's seemingly suicidal dash into danger.

Sure enough, a wolf pounced toward Ian with ferocious speed, but its attack was abruptly met with a striking gush of blood. The blood, however, was not Ian's but the wolf's, spurting from its neck like a crimson fountain. In a swift, Ian's sword flashed, severing the wolf's head with its mouth wide open.

As the wolf's body hadn't yet touched the ground, more wolves converged on Ian from all directions, their growls and snarls filling the air. At that very moment, Ian leaped up.

"...!" Mev's eyes flickered for a moment.

It appeared as though Ian's body had soared once again through the air. He effortlessly leaped over the charging wolves, landed, and rolled on the ground, only to dart off again at an unrelenting speed. His movements were as swift as they were at the beginning, if not faster.

Remarkably, his figure began to blur, obscured by the lingering afterimages of the wolves. In the blink of an eye, Ian had broken through the encirclement of wolves. A few of the beasts followed in his wake, but astonishingly, Ian seemed to be moving away at an even faster pace

"...." Mev, who had been staring blankly at this scene, suddenly turned her head.

Swish—!

A wolf that took advantage of her distraction and launched a surprise attack split in half.

“What should we do, my lord? Should we chase after him?” Philip, who also pushing back wolves with his shield, shouted.

Mev turned her gaze back. By then, Ian had disappeared into the darkness of the forest. Only the fading forms of a few wolves that had been chasing him lingered before they, too, blurred and vanished. Mev suddenly remembered Ian's words before the battle began, about having a task only he could accomplish.

"No. Hold your position, Philip," Mev muttered while staring into the darkness.

"Then please help, my lord! I really might die at this rate!" Philip screamed.

Mev gripped her sword tighter and turned around. Because of this, she missed the sight of the purple glow emanating from the forest's darkness, drawing a straight line as it receded into the distance.

***

Ian was not particularly knowledgeable about hunting. However, he knew what should never be done when encountering a wild beast. Showing your back and running away. It's a behavior that stimulates the instinct of a beast. A beast is cautious of an approaching object but recognizes a fleeing object as prey. That’s why he had run headlong despite knowing the location of the pack leader.

They're coming. Before long, Ian's senses sent a warning.

The breaths of wolves, mixed with excitement and anger, brushed past his ears. Ian slowed down his pace. The wolves chasing him rushed in as if they were waiting for this reaction. It was the response he wanted.

Swish, thud! Crack!

The wolves were slaughtered in an instant. Ian, as if showing off, scattered the blood on his sword. The growling breath of something that had caught up to him was added. Ian stopped abruptly and turned around. The fiercely burning violet light from one’s eye caught Ian’s eye. Even in the darkness, the massive fangs glistened.

"Are you angry?" said Ian.

“Grr!” The beast roared as it leaped.

The purplish claw marks carved into the air then cascaded toward Ian.

Crack!

The Whirling Barrier that had saved Ian several times was effortlessly torn apart. With his eyes wide in shock, Ian stretched out his left hand. The magic that formed in his grip flickered a chillingly bright blue.

Zzzzap—!

A shield made of ice instantly formed in front of his palm, protecting Ian's body. It was a blue magic, the Frost Shield. The surface of the shield was bristling with ice spikes like sea urchins.

Crack!

The purple claws were blocked by the shield. Facing the glowing eyes beyond the shield, Ian smiled slightly.

"Nice to see you, mutt," said Ian.

"Roar!" growled the beast.

Bang!

Right after the jaws filled with huge fangs opened, the shield exploded. Ice shards scattered toward the creature. They couldn't rip through its thick hide, but it was enough to leave scratches and deflect the attack. The creature's massive body rolled on the ground. It regained its posture before bouncing three times on the ground.

Swoosh!

Long claw marks were etched into the ground. Blood droplets fell to the floor. Growling, the creature rose to its feet. Ian finally got a good look at it.

A monstrous figure, like a cross between a gorilla and a wolf, towering over two meters tall. Its arms, longer than its legs, were as thick as Ian's waist and had blade-like claws shimmering at the ends. The face, flickering with purple light, looked like a horrific mix of human and wolf. Black fur, sharp as spikes, quivered on its snout with each breath. Then, a translucent window appeared before Ian's eyes—a sub-quest.

"As expected, you've become more grotesque, Andolf." Ian steadied himself and muttered.

The cursed Andolf. It was the name of the werewolf and the sub-quest.

"Roarrr!" Andolf bellowed.

Ian clearly saw the explosive surge of purple magic. Andolf let out a roar that caused Ian’s skin to feel prickling. But that was it. The howling that would have driven a character into a state of fear in the game was nothing more than noise to the current Ian. Realizing his howl had no effect, Andolf leaped again. Andolf’s purple claws carved a long arc in the darkness. It was such an obvious attack for Ian, who was prepared.

Crack!

The tree Ian had been standing against snapped like a straw. A cloud of dust rose from the ground where the claws struck. Through the dust, a gray glow like a mirage emerged. Ian had evaded the attack by merely two steps back diagonally. Immediately, a whirlwind roared through the dust.

Schwing!

Ian's sword plunged deep into Andolf's outstretched forearm. Even the Wind Blade couldn't completely sever the creature's thick forearm.

"Rarrrrr!" Andolf let out a tearing scream.

As Ian clicked his tongue, Andolf, shrieking in pain, raised his other arm. Just before his purple claws could strike...

Boom!

With a loud explosion, Andolf's body lost balance and tilted. The sword embedded in his forearm had caused an intangible explosion. It was a gray magic, Vacuum Explosion. Like all other lower-tier gray magic, it had a very short range, but its destructive power was undeniable. Flesh and blood flew in all directions.

"Keghhh—!" Andolf, propping himself up with his other arm, howled. His right arm, now a shredded mess, spurted black blood like a pump.

Crack!

Before Andolf could properly check his own arm, Ian's sword was thrust into his left arm, which was braced against the ground. And then, another explosion happened.

"Roarrrr!"

Andolf, now armless, collapsed amidst a spray of blood. Ian, covered in flesh and blood as the effect of the Wind Blade ended, jumped back.

"Oh, fuck," said Ian.

Ian’s expression was grim, not because of the blood and flesh but because his sword had broken in half again. It hadn't been long since Ian had left the village, and this happened again.

"Screech...!" Andolf cried out.

Meanwhile, Andolf, rolling on the ground and screaming, suddenly curled up. His body's fur bristled.

"Already?" Ian's eyebrows rose.

Whoooosh!

Almost simultaneously, as Ian reflexively conjured a Frost Shield, a purple explosion erupted from Andolf's body. A pure explosion of magic without any finesse. Ian, barely hidden behind the shield, was thrown back. As he rolled on the ground, Andolf, standing on just two legs, leaped up precisely to the opposite side of Ian. Blood sprayed from both of Andolf's arms and traced a beaded path.

Thud!

The trail was interrupted as Andolf collided with something. It was an Ice Barrier. The barrier crumbled to the ground following Andolf's fall.

Crack—

The shattered barrier refroze, forming hexagonal patterns like a beehive. By the time Andolf shook his head and stood up, he was already trapped in a prison of ice spikes.

"Roarrrr!" Andolf screamed.

Andolf lunged against the Ice Prison in rage, but it only shook violently without breaking.

"It's a similar yet different pattern...," said Ian.

Beyond that, Ian, with his hand stretched forward, slowly stood up. In the game, Andolf also fled when a certain amount of his health was depleted. Even if his head was blown off, he would run away and could never be caught. After a few days, he would reappear, completely healed, leading the pack of wolves. Therefore, to kill him, the procedure was first to sever his limbs to prevent escape or use movement-inhibiting skills like the Ice Prison.

However, Ian didn't expect Andolf to choose to flee immediately after losing both arms. In the game, even with severed limbs, he didn't flee until a significant amount of health was depleted. Ian remembered that the magic explosion was an action Andolf only took when his limbs were all severed or just before fleeing. Hence, while being swept by the explosion, Ian used the Ice Prison magic, and it hit the target perfectly.

"I thought I had lost you, you bastard. That scared the hell out of me," said Ian.

Ian spat out saliva mixed with blood and dust, his eyes flickering with a gray hue. The magic in his grasp transitioned from blue to gray. Soon, the surrounding dust and blood mist swirled into Ian's hand, forming a fiercely rotating whirlwind.

Zap, zap zap—

Amidst this, bright blue sparks began to fly.

"Screech!" Sensing the ominous atmosphere, Andolf charged at the Ice Prison.

Bang! Crackle, crackle—

The prison cut off from its magic supply, began to crack, and eventually started to collapse.

Crash!

Andolf burst through the ice, leaping out.

Zap! Zap zap—

What awaited him was a whirlwind filled with bright blue lightning. The Ice Prison had bought enough time to complete the spell.

Crackle!

The Lightning Whirlwind engulfed Andolf. A blinding flash of light burst forth, so intense it seemed to paralyze the vision momentarily. The hair on Andolf's entire body stood on end, and thin strands of lightning flickered around the bent figure, resembling a bow.

"Ah, ah...." Smoke rose from Andolf's mouth with his eyes rolling back white.

Thud.

He dropped to his knees.

Swoosh!

Ian, wrapped in a blade of wind, charged right in front of him. He extended his palm, fully spread, toward Andolf's abdomen. On his palm, the Wind Blade was slightly protruding. The palm dug into Andolf's abdomen.

Whoosh!

The next moment, a vacuum explosion occurred inside Andolf's belly. Accompanied by a sound like a bursting leather drum, Andolf fell backward. Intestines and clumps of blood surged from his gaping abdomen.

Ian, gasping for breath, watched Andolf with a subdued gaze. His head throbbed from repeatedly unleashing magic, but he was ready to cast another spell at any moment. Unlike in the game, there was no visible health bar now. Given the werewolf's tenacious vitality, it was possible that even in such a gruesome state, he could still escape.

Fizzle.

The dimming of Andolf's purple glow was the next change. The purple magic around his body rose like a mirage before dispersing.

Crack, crackle—

Andolf's body then began to convulse, twist, and contort.

"Sigh..." Ian finally let his raised arm fall and slumped down.

Creak, crackle—

Andolf's massive frame gradually shrank. His head, once like a cursed beast's, became somewhat more human in form. A faint light of reason returned to his eyes, which were previously filled only with wildness.

"Tha..."

Its jaw quivered.

"Thank... you."

"So, how about giving me a clue about your curse? Or some loot? Don't just settle with thanks." Ian, wiping his blood and entrail-stained hands on Andolf's fur, spoke.

He was unaware of the nature of Andolf's curse. It might have been just another side quest he had stumbled upon.

"Old... deer...." Andolf's lips parted again.

"Deer, what?" Ian asked.

No further answer came. Andolf had breathed his last.

"What, did he eat a bad deer or something?" Ian let out a hollow laugh.

Of course, it probably wasn't that. Nonetheless, the effort wasn't fruitless. Completing the Cursed Andolf quest had increased his Health stat by one. Since he had no plans to invest points in any stats other than Intelligence and Mental Fortitude, it was a valuable reward.

"Looks like this should do... It doesn’t even look like he was killed by magic." Ian nodded as he looked over Andolf’s corpse.

Using red magic would have made the victory much easier, but then he would have had to carry back nothing but a charred lump. He wanted to avoid any troublesome situations.

Ian stood up, grasping the broken sword. He then kneeled on Andolf's chest and turned the half-human face to the side. Since he couldn't carry the whole body, he intended to take only the head.

Thud.

Something fell from Andolf's open mouth at that moment. It was a bead, shimmering with a purple hue.

"Did this guy have an essence bead as well...?" said Ian.

Ian picked up the bead, tilting his head in curiosity. It was the condensed essence of a curse. It contained a corrupted magic of a different nature than the essences he already had.

"...I don’t recall seeing this in the game."

Moreover, it could be used immediately, although it came with the fatal drawback of being instantly entangled in the curse of madness.

"I should be able to purify this."

Ian stored the essence bead in his pocket dimension. The vacancy left by the essence bead he had sold to Mev was now filled. Now, all he needed to find was a priest. With this thought, Ian started to sever the head. He used the wind blade for assistance, fearing the sword wouldn't hold up. Finally, after completely detaching the head, he tossed the sword aside and straightened up. A headache and hunger struck him belatedly.

"I want some chicken and beer, followed by a good night's sleep...." Muttering softly, he gripped on Andolf's hair and began to walk. It had been an incredibly long night, yet there was still a considerable time left until morning.