I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

Clang!

Simultaneously, the blade further cleaved into the force field, burrowing deeper. Amidst this, roars erupted from the two beastfolk warriors, and the collision created by the clashing knights resounded loudly.

"So this was your plan from the start, Dragon Slayer...!"

Gray magical energy flickered in Ian’s eyes at the moment the Duke spat out those words. With an obsidian ring on his right hand, the Duke reached forward. However, Ian finished his spell faster.

Crash!

An intangible explosion burst forth from the blade embedded in the force field. The force field shattered into pieces, and the Duke, caught in the tail end of the explosion, was flung sideways like a cannonball.

"Your Excellency—"

The guards, entangled with Philip and Charlotte, shouted simultaneously. Valoy rushed toward the Duke, who was thrown against the wall.

Crunch.

But before he could take even three steps, he was shoved aside by Philip, who led with his shield. Philip relentlessly pushed forward, determined not to let anyone block the path between Ian and the Duke.

"----!"

Palmer cried out as he rushed behind Ian right at that moment. Now, only a fang sword remained in his hand. Ian hesitated as he was about to rush toward the Duke, but Palmer could not complete his attack. Charlotte’s hands suddenly gripped one of his legs from behind.

"Roar!"

With a roar, Charlotte swung Palmer to the opposite side and threw him. Palmer hurled away, crashed into the ground, and bounced off.

Rumble—

Palmer, having crashed into the wall with his body, was thrown even further beyond. Charlotte, once again crying out, chased after him.

Ian was no longer looking at her retreating figure.

Tap-tap-tap!

The moment Charlotte slammed Palmer, Ian rushed toward the Duke, who was bleeding and slumped over. The Duke staggered without even managing a scream.

"...!" Sensing Ian’s presence, the Duke turned his head. His face was a mess. One side of it was torn open, revealing the raw flesh underneath, and his left eye was burst. Blood gushed from his neck and shoulder. ＲâΝȏＢƐṤ

Despite his shocked expression, he extended his right hand once more. But again, Ian was quicker. Twisting his body as he ran, Ian swung his sword.

Swoosh!

A white trajectory neatly sliced the Duke’s right wrist at an angle, as cleanly as cutting paper.

"...!" A beat later, the Duke’s eyes widened in shock as Ian extended his left hand toward his face.

Thud.

Ian’s grip tightened around the Duke’s face, his remaining blue eye widening between Ian’s fingers.

"I’m not the one who will kill you." With that, Ian flung his left arm sideways, sending the Duke flying like a wooden puppet.

Crash!

The Duke’s body crashed through the table and rebounded upward.

"Sir!" Simultaneously, Ian shouted.

The Duke, rebounding upward, immediately realized who Ian was referring to.

Shhhhh...

Underneath the floating, golden-tinged robe, a full plate armor drenched in sticky, blood-red holy power charged toward him. It was unmistakably holy power, but the sight was more terrifying than sacred.

Boom-boom-boom—

A slow, deep sound pierced the Duke’s ears. Only when he saw the sword did he realize it was the noise of the crimson knight’s two-handed blade descending.

The long blade, which looked silver-plated, was now entirely stained red. The sticky, red trail advanced slowly but steadily toward the Duke. He had no means of resistance; he was still in midair, moving slower than the approaching blade.

The Duke realized his body faced an inevitable death.

Is this why everything feels so slow and vivid?

And that was his last thought.

Crack—

The crimson blade cleaved the Duke.

Crash.

The blade, after slicing through the Duke, struck the shattered table, splitting it again. The Duke’s body, split in half, crumbled, spraying blood and entrails.

"...." Behind her visor, Mev’s red eyes dimmed. As she steadied herself and withdrew her sword, Ian approached the Duke’s bisected body.

"Be grateful to die as a warrior! Slave!"

"Shut up, minion! Why? Was serving the wild of the void not enough?"

The shouts and loud crashes of Palmer and Charlotte echoed in the distance. The sounds were faint, and Ian tuned out the following servants’ cries and screams as he looked down at the Duke’s corpse.

"What? Is he really dead...?" Thesaya muttered, gripping her sword, looking somewhat dubious.

Ian frowned slightly. "He’s dead, but... I don’t think it’s over."

The quest completion window hadn’t appeared.

As he added this to himself, suppressed laughter came from behind.

Valoy, pinned to the wall by Philip, was chuckling, pushing Philip’s left arm away. Ian tilted his head, watching Philip struggle to pin the guy against the wall.

Why is he struggling when he’s wearing all that gear?

Philip wasn’t utilizing his magical equipment at all.

Well, thinking about it, he was only just getting used to the power of the relic ring. Handling the power of five or six magical artifacts skillfully would have been more surprising.

He had only worn that armor for about a week, and he hadn’t even practiced using the magical equipment. Only Ian, who was once a game character, could use skills just by recalling them.

It’s like casting pearls before swine

As he pondered this, Valoy’s muffled voice continued from behind his visor.

"I should be grateful, I suppose...! Thanks to you, there’s no turning back now! My master never cared for the shell of a petty human—"

Crack!

Before he could complete his sentence, the edge of Philip’s steel shield crashed into Valoy’s helmet. Having wrestled free from Valoy’s hold, Philip delivered the blow with full force. As Valoy’s words halted abruptly, a bright yellow gleam ignited in Philip’s eyes.

Crack! Crash! Thud—

The shield relentlessly battered Valoy’s helmet. With each strike, his head was forced against the wall, and his visor was gruesomely deformed. It was impossible for his head inside to remain undamaged.

A shield can definitely be a weapon.

After repeatedly striking until the thick stone wall cracked, Philip finally stopped, exhaling heavily. Valoy’s helmet, partially embedded in the wall, sagged. Red blood streamed down from the crumpled visor. As the magic stones on his shoulder pads and greaves lost their light, Philip stepped back a few paces.

Clang.

Valoy’s body crumpled lifelessly to the ground. Philip’s gaze, calm and unwavering, bore down on him. Meanwhile, the distant sounds of Charlotte and Palmer’s clash echoed through the room.

"What should we do next—"

Ian, who had been watching Philip turn his head to speak, suddenly widened his eyes.

Whoosh!

The blue magic circuits flickered and turned purple all at once. Simultaneously, the circuits on the ceiling flared brilliantly.

"Everyone, get back!"

Boom, boom, boom—

Ian’s shout and the purple shockwave that cascaded down happened almost simultaneously. His billowing robe activated a hexagonal shield reflexively as the shockwave swept through the room, centering on Ian.

"Ack?!" Thesaya screamed briefly as she was thrown back, slamming into the wall.

The thin inner wall collapsed, burying her. Mev was also thrown, rolling across the floor, while Philip was slammed headfirst into the blood-stained wall where Valoy had been pinned.

Boom, boom, boom—

The shockwave pinned Ian flat to the ground. If he hadn’t lowered his stance and activated a force field the moment he sensed the magic gathering, his eyes and eardrums would have burst. Though the force field didn’t hold up, it provided minimal protection.

Shortly, the explosion died down. Ian, previously sprawled on the ground, struggled to raise himself with one hand. As he lifted his head, he swayed slightly. Coughing up blood, with a nosebleed trickling down, Ian endured the dizziness and ringing in his ears as he surveyed the surroundings.

Whoosh.

The flesh and entrails of the Duke were being sucked away, scattered beyond the crumbled walls.

Echoes of explosions similar to what had just occurred, along with sounds of collapsing structures and screams, reverberated throughout the mansion. These were likely the cries of the servants and maids. Despite the dulled senses from the shock, Ian could feel a sinister concentration of void magic gathering in the distance—a presence so distinct it cut through the thick, tainted magical air.

Ian spat out the blood pooling in his mouth as he struggled to stand.

—A mage as well... Is this also the work of that arrogant one who calls himself the Guide? Or is it merely the result of your ambition, Dragon Slayer...?

A voice like grinding metal resonated through the air, making the entire mansion sound like an echo chamber.

—Anyway... it makes no difference. You are also just another monster created by this corrupt world.

Damn it, you got way noisier.

Ian clicked his tongue while standing up. He quickly turned after noticing Mev trying to get up and Philip shaking his head from a tough fall. Through the debris, he spotted Thesaya’s silhouette, half-covered in stones and dust. As Ian moved forward, Philip’s voice echoed from behind.

"What on earth is going on? Why is the Duke still alive...?"

"He must have separated his soul," Ian replied while clearing away the debris and gripping Thesaya’s shoulder.

The Duke likely succeeded in separating his soul using the power of the void’s mark. It was a choice fitting for a spellcaster seeking immortality.

"It hurts so much... It’s also uncomfortable...." Thesaya grimaced as she stood up, dust-covered. Her lips were split and her nose bled, but she seemed not to have suffered serious injuries.

—Do you know why I turned away from the light? It’s because of your arrogance. You only look upward, never sparing a thought for those who have fallen into the pit of despair.

"... What is he rambling about?" Thesaya spat blood-stained saliva as the voice continued without pause.

Judging by the twitching veins around her eyes, she was genuinely irritated.

"Don’t you understand? He’s asking to be killed." Ian replied, turning his head.

"Sir, are you ready to cut down the Duke again? This time, you might have to do it multiple times."

"I can do it dozens, even hundreds of times. Gladly."

A deep crimson divinity was spreading over Mev’s entire body. The deepening color indicated that she too had bled in some way. It also meant that the mansion was not completely isolated from the divine touch of the outside world.

"I’m sorry to say this..." Philip’s voice followed.

As Ian turned around, a robe flew toward him, settling on his shoulders like a cloak. It was the purifier’s hooded cloak that Philip had been using.

"You two lords should go first."

Philip had already turned his back.

Creak...

Valoy, previously downed, was rising in an odd stance, his upper body tilted backward. A sinister, purplish glow emanated from beneath his skewed helmet.

"It seems my part isn’t quite finished yet," Philip added as he drew his longsword from his waist.

Thesaya, fitting a dislocated finger back into place, also chimed in. "I guess I should stay too."

Matthias was also getting up from the corner of the room. His face was still pierced with a dagger, and his body was tattered from being caught in the explosion, yet the purplish gleam shining from his eye sockets was distinctly clear. Picking up the High Fairy’s Rapier from the rubble, Thesaya smiled.

"Good. I was getting annoyed."

Ian nodded at Mev and, without hesitation, stepped over the debris.

"Don’t panic if he keeps coming back to life. I’ll try to finish as quickly as possible."

He added and then sprinted forward. Mev left a red trail as she followed him into the distance.

Tap-tap-tap!

Philip and Thesaya simultaneously launched themselves forward, each toward their opponent.

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