I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

Chapter 289

"Cancel the contract? What do you mean…?"

Seras’s eyes widened, belatedly catching the weight of Ian’s words.

Just as Ian was about to step out of the carriage, his brow furrowed slightly.

"W-wait, Sir. Please, wait!" Seras had practically thrown herself in front of the door, blocking his path.

"I forgot to express my gratitude. Truly, thank you for helping us, Sir Ian. Without your aid, we wouldn’t have survived the ambush, nor would Asme be alive." Seras spoke rapidly with a forced smile tugging at her lips.

However, she couldn’t completely hide the tremble in her voice and in her eyes. An ambush, battle, death, and injury followed by this sudden, shocking declaration—it was no wonder she was struggling to maintain her composure.

"Of course, I don’t intend to let it end with just words of thanks. When we arrive in the capital, both you and Sir Philip will be duly compensated—"

"You’ve got the order wrong. Gratitude isn’t the first thing you should offer, is it?" Ian interrupted coldly, his gaze indifferent as he looked down at her.

"They were after you. And you already knew this could happen, didn’t you?"

"…I knew that something like this might occur."

"And yet you didn’t even give me a warning, even though you knew I had another contract I was fulfilling."

"..."

"Dangerous situations can happen, that’s a given. But not giving a heads-up about it is a different story. That’s why I don’t work with people who are secretive or untrustworthy. You fall under both categories."

Seras’s face had lost its smile entirely. Her lips moved slightly, but no words came out. That was when Ian stepped closer to her.

"Be grateful the young lady wasn’t harmed. If she had been, this wouldn’t have ended with just canceling the contract."

At Ian’s flat, emotionless tone, Seras snapped back to reality and looked up at him, as if shaken from a daze. As her eyes met Ian’s dull, black gaze, the last traces of color drained from her face.

Ian continued approaching without stopping. "You should also be thankful you’re a princess. That’s the only reason you’re standing here unharmed in front of me."

"A-Agent of the Saint…," Seras muttered in disbelief, stepping back into a daze. She knew Ian’s words weren’t empty threats.

Click.

Ian reached out and opened the carriage door, pulling his hood back over his head as he spoke. "I’ll see you in the capital—if there’s another opportunity."

Seras reached out a hand toward Ian as he stepped out of the carriage, but then turned to look at Asme, biting her lip in frustration. Ian, paying no attention to her, shut the door behind him and turned, his brow knitting once more.

"So that’s why it was so quiet..."

Philip was standing quietly behind the carriage, holding the bandages. When their eyes met, Philip gave an awkward smile.

—Well… It’s not like I was eavesdropping on purpose. You two seemed to be having an important conversation, so I figured it was better not to interrupt… haha.

Why are you whispering if you’re so proud of it?

Ian snorted softly as he took a step forward, just as Elia’s whisper followed in his mind.

—What were you talking about just now? And why are you getting ready to leave so soon?

She had already reached the carriage, leading the horses behind her. Despite the dwarf holding their reins, both horses followed calmly.

Philip, leaning against the side of the carriage, smiled as Ian approached.

—Well, our lord here has just canceled the contract.

—What? Canceled the contract? Why?

Elia’s eyes widened as she glanced at Ian, while Philip’s whisper continued.

—He’s upset because you were put in danger.

—Me? But I was fine... So, are we really leaving right now?

—No way. I’m sure he has other plans in mind.

Now he’s trying to read my mind, Ian thought, clicking his tongue as he passed Philip.

—Go wrap those bandages. If you’re late, we’ll leave without you.

—Wait... are you seriously canceling the contract? I thought you’d renegotiate terms and get them to spill some of their secrets too!

Even as Philip walked back toward the carriage, Philip looked at Ian’s back. Ian shrugged as he approached Elia.

—Yeah... Something like that.

He didn’t particularly want to lose a quest with good rewards, but he always had the Order as a backup option. Even if this quest failed, another prince could show up with the same one. After all, he had the option to decline the quest.

For now, the plan was simple: wander the capital city until a new client came along. However, that was assuming he left things as they were. The other half of his intentions, though, was exactly what Philip had mentioned.

"You really don’t need to do this on my account, Godfather. I’m honestly fine," Elia said as she handed the reins to Ian, her smile bright as she looked up at him.

"Still, it feels nice knowing you got angry for me."

"Stop talking nonsense and get inside. Your cloak’s getting soaked."

With a dismissive remark, Ian turned and led the horses to the front of the carriage. Elia, still grinning for reasons only she knew, passed by him and the horses.

As Ian began securing the horses to the carriage, Philip’s whisper returned.

—My lord, it seems the princess is about to come out.

Ian let out a low snort. Naturally, she would not stand by and let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

—She asked me how she could convince you to stay. I told her I’ve never managed to do it myself. Now she’s just staring at the bandages, waiting for me to finish.

It made sense for her to be anxious. The horses that had pulled her carriage were all dead. If Ian left, she’d be stuck traveling on foot with an injured companion in tow.

—If the princess sincerely apologizes and asks for forgiveness, would you reconsider?

Elia’s whisper broke in. Ian continued fastening the reins with an indifferent expression.

—Depends on what she says.

The best option left for Seras was to spill all her secrets and plead for mercy. What Ian truly wanted to know was who was behind the ambush.

... Though hearing more wouldn’t hurt.

If she started sharing other information, Ian had no reason to stop her. After all, the closer he got to the unknown, the more valuable information became.

Ian found himself listening quietly more often these days, especially when someone rambled on. If it was a princess, she’d likely spill secrets that no one else could provide. Even if some of the information could seem useless now, it could prove invaluable in an unforeseen situation.

Of course, the odds of her being completely honest were slim—at best, fifty-fifty. Royals, after all, were the most arrogant and selfish among the nobility, and Seras was no exception. If Ian had been more compliant, asking her gently, she probably would have revealed just a sliver of the truth and kept the rest hidden.

Snort—

The white horse gave a low whinny as Ian finished securing the reins, signaling that it was ready to set off again.

Good boy.

Ian patted its neck before turning toward the carriage door he’d left open. Elia was already inside, seated by the left window where Ian had sat earlier, with the Magic Stone Lamp lit beside her. As Ian climbed in, she handed him a bottle of alcohol.

"Just what I needed."

"Leave your gear on the floor. I’ll clean it up in the morning," she said.

"No need for that."

"I want to," she insisted.

Feeling like she was hinting that she hadn’t done enough today, Ian chuckled softly and nodded as he closed the door.

Thunk—

A pale hand suddenly stopped the door from closing. Seras’s face appeared through the gap.

Ian neither seemed surprised nor curious. He simply looked down at her as she opened the door further. Her blue eyes, which had been unsettled moments ago, now appeared calm—or rather, resolute.

"... First, I sincerely apologize, Agent of the Saint."

Seras, her hood removed, bowed her head and knelt before him, letting the rain soak her hair and face without caring in the slightest.

"I was short-sighted. You were right—I should have told you everything from the start."

As she spoke, her gaze shifted to Elia, seated beside Ian. "I deeply apologize to the young lady and Sir Philip as well for putting them in danger because of my secrecy."

Elia smiled in response, acknowledging her apology. With a small, grateful smile of her own, Seras turned back to Ian.

"Could you grant me one chance to explain myself? I will tell you everything about why today’s events happened—without a single secret this time."

Ian pointed toward the inside of the carriage with his chin.

"Come on up."

Seras bowed her head once more, her posture impeccable. Whether or not her apology was genuine, ‌she was a high-ranking member of the royal family.

—Uh... may I listen in too?

As Seras climbed into the carriage, Philip’s whisper reached Ian’s mind.

—I’m curious about what the princess has to say as well, my lord.

Ian inwardly snorted, responding with a brief reply.

—The conversation might take a while, so go tie the horses back under the trees and take care of Asme.

—I’ll relay every word to you, not missing a single detail.

Elia interjected, her eyes quietly gleaming as she looked at Seras.

—Oh, would you? Thank you, Elie!

It’s going to be a mess.

Contrary to what he murmured to himself, he didn’t tell Elia to stop. Instead, he merely scattered her whispering spell with a moment of quiet focus. Across from him, Seras seemed to misinterpret his silence, her expression turning slightly anxious. Perhaps the pale glow of the Magic Stone Lamp made Ian’s mud, rain, and blood-covered appearance all the more unsettling.

"The reason I didn’t inform you in advance, Agent of the Saint, is because… my family is involved," Seras began, her voice low after making eye contact with Ian and clearing her throat.

"Our family’s internal affairs are never shared with outsiders. I had taken precautions to avoid such an incident and left the capital, believing I could return before anyone found out."

Ian nodded slightly, taking a swig from the bottle she had handed him.

Seras continued in a careful tone, "I thought that since I met you earlier than expected, I could return to the palace with no issues. Clearly, that was a naïve assumption."

"So, in the end..." Ian removed the bottle from his lips and looked directly at her. "You’re saying someone sent the assassins within the royal family?"

"It’s likely someone from my family, though pinpointing who exactly would be almost impossible."

"And why would they target you?"

Seras hesitated, glancing at the bottle in Ian’s hand before letting out a soft sigh and continuing, "I have many half-siblings. As you may know, our father hasn’t officially appointed a successor yet."

Ian gave a low chuckle. From the moment she mentioned the royal family, he had expected this answer.

"But your chances of succession are low, aren’t they?"

"Of course. But my brother isn’t."

"Ah, I see..."

A faint smirk finally tugged at one corner of Ian’s mouth as he set the bottle down.

"So you weren’t trying to bring me along for your own sake."

"Only partially."

Of course. Ultimately, it would still benefit her. Those who play a crucial role in securing the throne are often treated as if they were royalty themselves. If she were a princess helping to install a king, her power would only grow stronger. Perhaps she was dreaming of sitting on the throne herself, which Ian didn’t care about.

"My brother may not be the strongest contender yet, but he’s certainly in the top three. Our bloodline is one of the purer ones, thanks to our parents being cousins."

Elia visibly held her breath at that revelation. Ian also looked at Seras, but she seemed completely unbothered by it.

Not that unusual among royals, Ian thought, silently bringing the bottle back to his lips without comment.

Seras, as if on cue, continued, "Without my support, though, he wouldn’t stand a chance. And if I succeeded in bringing you to him, his position would be solidified. That’s likely why someone took action to prevent it."

"No matter what, are you saying the Emperor would just stand by while his children fight each other?" Ian asked, his voice skeptical.

"They wouldn’t have tried to kill me. It’s more strategic to keep me alive and locked away somewhere. They probably intended to kill everyone else and take me hostage."

Seras’s tone and expression grew calm, as if discussing family matters had brought her emotions under control. She no longer seemed embarrassed or uneasy.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Of course, that’s just a theory. Maybe they did plan to kill me. But even if they had, I doubt my father would have been outraged."

She curled just the corner of her lips. "It wouldn’t be strange if he thought it was just fate, regardless of my death. Since I left the capital willingly."

"You’ve mentioned leaving the capital as if it’s some monumental act," Ian observed, raising an eyebrow.

"For us, it is. While we’re under our father’s watchful eye, there’s an unspoken rule against siblings spilling each other’s blood."

Her voice lowered slightly. "And Father knows everything that happens within the palace—no matter how secretive."

Her tone was not only low but cautious. Ian’s lips curled into a small smile.

"Is that one of the Emperor’s abilities?"

Seras froze for a moment. Ian pressed further.

"I’ve heard the royal family is blessed by the gods, each inheriting special abilities. That’s no great secret, is it?"

"... It’s true. But no one knows the exact nature of my father’s abilities. Everyone who did… is long dead or missing."

Seras responded cautiously, her gaze meeting Ian’s.

"I’m no exception. I can only speculate that he has some connection to it."

A father who doesn’t trust his own family—what a mess of a household.

Ian let out a low chuckle and took another swig of the bottle. It wasn’t exactly shocking news. The Emperor was notorious for never leaving the palace.

After taking another sip, Ian asked casually, "So, what ability did you inherit?"