I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

Chapter 21 (1)



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In an instant, the surroundings became as bright as broad daylight.

With suffocating heat, Ian was pushed back.

Kwarr-

The flames that had been endlessly spewing out gradually subsided.

Ian staggered and covered his face.

“Damn it, my eyes…”

He couldn’t help but cover his eyes with both hands, trying to withstand the pressure.

A headache and a sense of betrayal followed due to the depletion of magic power.

It was as if he had been hit in the back of the head by the unfriendly message on the information window.

He had thought that amplifying magic with the bead meant using only the bead’s internal magic power.

But it turned out that it absorbed the wearer’s magic power to amplify it.

‘It wasn’t like this in the game… Ah.’

It was only now that Ian realized he had never used the bead alone even in the game.

Thanks to the high-level priests, by the time he could afford the purification cost, he was already equipped with plenty of artifacts and magic gear.

Among them were items that couldn’t function properly without gems or beads, so he hadn’t thought of using the bead by itself.

‘So, do those items also function as controllers for the bead?’

It was a reasonable guess.

He had experienced multiple instances where the game’s settings had contrived reasons for certain things to happen, even if they seemed forced.

Like the layers of magic power within the bead.

Naturally, Ian’s forehead tightened again as he held the bead in his hand.

The density of magic power within the bead had noticeably decreased.

‘I think I could use it around 50 times if it was equipped with an item.’

What a waste.

Ian sighed as he thought of returning the bead to the extradimensional space.

His vision had somewhat returned.

He blinked his eyes and focused for a moment.

“Phew…”

A hollow laugh escaped Ian’s lips as he confirmed the state of the twisted ancient creature.

It was almost like a charcoal briquette.

The branches and tendrils that had been penetrated by flames had transformed into charred lumps.

Fwurr-

The surrounding branches were struggling to move properly and were being consumed by the fire.

Only the roots that tormented the anacondas were writhing, expressing their pain by disturbing the ground.

“…I bought lamp oil for nothing.”

Might as well have burned some magic while he was at it.

Muttering in disappointment, Ian drew his sword to subspace.

Now it was time to relieve the suffering of that pitiful creature.

***

Ippotranslation

***

“What happened…?”

Miguel muttered.

Though his words trembled with unease and the burnt corpses of some fireflies wriggled around him, he remained fixated on the night sky beyond the forest.

About an hour ago.

Kwaaa-

A booming sound accompanied a column of fire erupting into the night sky.

Since then, there had only been faint traces of light shimmering.

“It’s definitely brother’s work.”

He still couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“What can you possibly do with oil…?”

Miguel muttered and froze.

The faint sound of footsteps had slightly grazed his ears.

“It’s really coming, damn it…”

Exhausted, Miguel finally let out a sigh.

“Ian… Are you there?”

Ian emerged from the forest.

“Yeah.”

Miguel breathed a sigh of relief as if a burden had been lifted.

“Y-You almost gave me a heart attack! Anyway, what on earth did you do there?”

Miguel’s voice halted as he saw Ian’s appearance, seemingly just having crawled out of an ash heap.

“…Are you alright?”

“Would I be alright?”

Seriously, things were already uncomfortable enough.

With furrowed brows, Ian recalled the final moments of the twisted ancient creature.

The moment he stabbed the creature’s weakness with his sword.

An explosion of magic power ensued with a resounding cry of determination.

It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but the fact that the creature was in a pitiable state made things complicated.

Parts turned into charcoal briquettes fell off, and the surroundings turned into a chaotic mess, much like an exploding smoke bomb.

If you’re going to die, at least die in a dignified manner.

A cold sensation spread through Ian as he stopped in his tracks.

“Water.”

“…?”

“Give me some water.”

Miguel moved quickly.

Taking the water pouch he offered, Ian took a sip and quickly washed his face and gloves.

“I’ll continue holding the position. If anything appears, burn it or chop it up as you see fit.”

“Got it…”

Miguel turned his attention back to the fireflies as Ian walked past him.

“Is that all? Aren’t you going to say anything else?”

“Nothing else. Except for shut up.”

“…”

Ian approached Phillip.

Holding the torch, Phillip stared at Ian with an expression like that of a curious puppy since the moment he appeared.

Ian looked down at Maeve, who was sitting at Phillip’s feet.

“How did this happen?”

“That… I’ve never seen anything like this before, even among my people. It’s not an illness, either.”

Phillip looked down at Maeve.

“It must be some kind of addiction. Probably not dark magic, though.”

“Hmm.”

Ian nodded in agreement.

It was a reasonable deduction.

Maeve was a disciple of Týr’En, after all.

There was only a slight difference, but she had the power to negate negative things inherently with sacred power.

Even powerful dark magic or curses couldn’t easily affect her.

However, the lingering sensation of the recent battle transmitted a completely different feeling through Ian’s senses.

A strange discomfort and unease.

Is it corrupted magic power?

During the moment Ian was scanning Maeve’s body again.

“Just leave it to me, Sir.”

Phillip knelt down on one knee.

He pulled out a dagger from his embrace and continued.

“With this, you’ll feel better soon.”

Ian tilted his head.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“Don’t you know? We’re going to make a wound and extract the corrupted blood. Until only a sufficient amount of corrupted blood remains for it to overcome on its own.”

“…”

What kind of insane talk is this?

Misunderstanding Ian’s expression, Phillip continued.

“Of course, I know that losing too much blood at once can be dangerous. But in the end, blood is consumed and regenerated every time. Please believe me. I’ve performed this spell several times at the border.”

“Sigh…”

Ian eventually covered his forehead with his hand.

He realized how uncivilized medical knowledge in this Dark Age was.

Given the existence of various forms of magic, mysteries, and even divine powers, it was natural that medical knowledge lagged behind.

But hearing nonsense that could only be found in history books made him feel like he was suddenly inundated with pent-up frustration.

“Put that aside for now. If you don’t want to see her in pain, that is.”

“Do you have a different plan?”

As Ian was about to respond.

“Ian?”

Maeve’s voice faintly trembled.

“You’ve come… I’ve been waiting…”

She barely added, her hand reaching for the hilt of her sword.

Ian’s gaze turned to her left hand, which was holding the sword.

The trembling arm and the sleeve covering the scratched forearm protector.

As Ian’s eyes narrowed, Phillip hurriedly spoke.

“Oh, you shouldn’t move yet, Sir. You’re currently-“

“No, it’s okay now. This should be enough… Ugh…”

Like a newborn deer, she stumbled and then vomited blood as she sat down.

“Sir!”

With a worried expression, Phillip shouted.

Without even waiting for an answer, Maeve tried to get up again.

“Rest.”

It was Ian who gently pressed down on her shoulder.

“I’ve already taken care of the demon.”

“Is that so… you’re helping me again…”

Her body relaxed under Ian’s touch.

As he supported her collapsing body, Ian turned to Phillip.

“Remove the left arm protector.”

“Yes…? Oh, yes!”

Phillip moved around in a hurry.

Even in his absent state, his familiar touch was present.

Translator; ippo

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