I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy-Chapter 388

Ian barely managed to raise the Platinum Barrier in time.

Clang—Crash!

The skeleton slammed into the shield, following the trajectory of the magical force that had just swept past.

The force sent Ian skidding backward, his body momentarily airborne. A heavy impact reverberated through the shield and into his entire body.

Even so, Ian kept his gaze locked beyond the shield.

The skeleton had crashed into the shield headfirst, its body crumpling in a way that would have been instantly fatal to any living creature. Yet, turquoise chaos-infused magic swelled from its skull, which clung to the shield's surface.

Ian's right arm, which had instinctively extended forward during the recoil, tensed again. Gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, he brought the pointed pommel down into the skull.

Crack!

The skull shattered with web-like fractures, turquoise light flashing from within. Bone fragments scattered weakly in all directions.

Ian gritted his teeth and twisted his body sharply. The ominous, chilling sensation pulling his focus wasn't coming from the skeleton in front of him, but rather from behind.

Thud—Scrape!

Ian drove the edge of his Platinum Barrier into the ground with all his strength, as though planting it firmly in place. The momentum of his body slowed instantly, leaving deep furrows in the ground like a plow cutting through dirt. He lowered his body close to the ground, almost lying flat.

Before he realized it, the ground beneath him had tilted backward like a steep incline. Without the shield to anchor him, Ian would have tumbled down further.

The swirling mist of magic and chaos energy grew wilder, surging like a violent tide.

Rattle, clatter.

Shards of bone flew past him, scattering as they rolled down the incline. Ian instinctively turned his gaze back.

—So this is how it pulls things in.

The unnaturally slanted ground, warped by the distorted space, created a vortex that seemed to drag everything toward its dark, gaping maw. The swirling, ashen mist felt alive, like a predator waiting to devour its prey.

If I'd fallen in just a little deeper—

Ian didn't want to imagine what would have awaited him.

He shoved his black sword back into his pocket dimension and turned his attention uphill. Reaching out with his right hand, he gripped the ground and dragged himself forward. With his left arm, he struck the earth again, pulling himself inch by inch. He repeated the process carefully, crawling forward.

It was an awkward, crawling motion, but the safest approach. Standing upright risked losing his balance entirely.

I swear, the shit I go through... fuck.

Thankfully, the slope leveled out quickly.

Even as Ian crawled, his mind analyzed this phenomenon: warped space, gravity pulling in unnatural directions, and distorted perception blending into a massive optical illusion.

Once the ground finally felt stable, Ian crawled a little farther before cautiously rising to his feet.

—That was way too close, my friend.

Yog whispered in an almost amused tone.

Ian's expression, however, remained grim. "The disaster already started a long time ago."

No matter how hard he scanned the churning mist around him, there was no sign of Diana. He couldn't even pinpoint when he had lost track of her.

Only one thing was certain—he was on his own to get out of the rift.

I didn't exactly want my first real experience to come like this.

Ian withdrew the Platinum Barrier and closed his eyes. Now he understood why Diana had told him not to stop and why her expression had turned so grave when she resumed walking.

His sense of direction had completely vanished. Even while standing still, it felt as though the world was spinning. The sensation was nauseating, like being drunk—everything seemed to whirl clockwise while he was turning counterclockwise.

Magic, too, felt chaotic, swirling like a blizzard rather than flowing in any discernible direction. Yet, Ian calmly regulated his breathing, observing these disjointed sensations.

Thanks to his high Mental Fortitude and Intelligence, combined with heightened Intuition and Concentration, he began untangling the jumbled threads of perception. Bit by bit, he could separate the senses to ignore from those he needed to prioritize.

Thud.

Ian took a step forward without opening his eyes. He wasn’t certain if he was moving in the right direction, but he had a feeling that only by walking would things become clearer.

And his Intuition proved correct—the chaotic turbulence of the magical currents resolved into recognizable patterns again.

I was heading back toward the center.

Ian adjusted his direction slowly, focusing entirely on the flow of magic. The unsettling sensations—the rippling ground beneath his feet and the dissonance between body and mind—failed to distract him.

—Good. It seems like you've got the hang of it.

Ian opened his eyes just after Yog spoke. The gray mist still churned thickly around him, but his steps grew steadier and quicker. Even Yog's irritating voice felt like confirmation that he had avoided immediate peril.

—But are you sure you're following the fairy's path? You might end up separated from Lucia, you know, friend.

Ian didn't respond, but he was fully aware of the possibility.

Diana had previously warned that the rift’s edge sometimes led to surprising locations. It was clear now that the magical currents leading out of the rift branched into multiple paths, each pulling in its direction.

—Don't worry too much. If we lose the fairy, we'll just find another way to the stronghold. After all, there are always other options.

Yog's words, though phrased like reassurance, carried an almost mischievous tone, as if it found the prospect of separation amusing. Indeed, there was the chance that Diana might abandon Lucia, or vice versa—that Lucia might leave Diana behind to search for him.

If it was the former, Diana would owe him a heavy price. If it was the latter, Ian would have to find Lucia before she got swallowed by the rift.

Though, really, if we just end up in the same place, none of these matters.

As he pressed forward, Ian couldn't sense any trace of Diana—or Lucia, for that matter. Even the blood terminal couldn't function properly in this space. Ian was certain this was yet another aspect that had changed now that the situation had become a reality.

In the game, everything would have been much more straightforward. Perhaps he could have even selected his destination outright. Ambushes like the one earlier, or ending up in the wrong location, would likely have been rare, low-probability special events.

Not that it's surprising, but this is still as damn awful as—

Ian's eyes narrowed sharply as something came into view up ahead—a silhouette lying on the ground. It was a flail, its weighted end resting heavily on the dirt. A faint smile crossed Ian's lips almost immediately. Of course, it was Lucia's flail.

—It looks like she dropped it on purpose.

Ian naturally veered toward it. It was clear Lucia had left it as a marker, knowing Ian would notice. She must have realized she couldn't see him and looked for a way to guide him.

What was she planning to do if I didn't find it?

Even as the thought crossed his mind, Ian picked up the flail and continued forward. As he approached, the reason for its placement became abundantly clear.

The oppressive pressure of magical energy, which had felt like a headwind pushing against him, was noticeably diminished. At the same time, Ian detected the faint presence of another flow of magic. Instinctively, he focused on it and moved forward. It became clear he had made the right choice about twenty steps later.

There was something else lying on the ground—this time, a steel gauntlet extending up to the wrist. Its clasp dangled loosely, as though hastily removed.

Hansel and Gretel, is it?

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Ian let out a dry chuckle but still bent to pick up the gauntlet. As he approached, the flow of magic grew increasingly distinct, now almost pushing him forward.

—Well, that takes the fun out of it.

Yog's disappointed whisper made Ian's smirk widen slightly. He quickened his pace.

***

"Huff... Huff..."

Diana staggered forward a few more steps after lowering Lucia from her shoulder before collapsing to the ground herself. At last, they had escaped the domain of the rift.

Cold sweat drenched her entire body. A wave of dizziness and exhaustion washed over her, leaving her trembling.

What the hell was that?

Even in her state, her mind raced with a flood of questions and lingering shock, which she had temporarily set aside to focus on survival. But her thoughts were cut short.

"Ugh... cough, cough..." Lucia's hacking cough drew her attention immediately.

Diana turned her head to look back. Lucia lay retching on the ground, blood pouring from her, with dark smoke curling faintly in the air before her. She recalled something about expelling impurities—this must have been it.

Lucia's fully visible arms caught Diana's attention. Her bracers and gloves were gone, exposing the quilted sleeves reinforced with a chain beneath.

Had she been struggling just to take those off?

However, this wasn't the time to ask. Diana turned her gaze back toward the mist. The teal light was no longer visible, but there was no guarantee it wouldn't reappear at any moment.

"We have to move, Lucifer," she said, crawling behind Lucia and reaching out.

Even while coughing violently, Lucia swatted her hand away, shaking her head. "Not... not yet..."

Still gasping for breath, Lucia looked up at Diana with a face as pale as a sheet.

"Sir Ian hasn't come out yet."

"Ian Hope is probably—" Diana stopped herself from finishing the sentence. She realized that saying he wouldn't make it out wouldn't help convince Lucia to move.

"Time flows differently in there. Even if he gets out, it'll likely be after wandering inside for quite a while. And there's no guarantee he'll end up here."

Instead, Diana opted for a more rational explanation.

"Those undead earlier—they're part of the Wanderers led by the necromancer Carmiel. I don't know how they waited inside the rift, but their main force could be nearby. We need to leave this place for now, at the very least."

"Then, Diana, you should go," Lucia said, wiping her mouth with her arm. She nodded firmly as Diana hesitantly looked at her. "I will never leave Sir Ian behind. Even if I have to stay here alone, I'll wait for him. And if it takes too long, I'll circle the outskirts to find him. He must have come out somewhere else."

"What are you—" Diana's brows knitted tightly.

Sure, Ian Hope was a man of many inexplicable talents, but the odds were far too slim. Yet Lucia's eyes glimmered with unshakable certainty, a conviction so strong it bordered on faith. Her bloodied lips moved again just a moment later.

"Thank you for bringing me this far, Diana. I'll explain everything to Sir Ian myself."

"Fine. If that's truly what you want," Diana muttered after a long pause, rising unsteadily to her feet.

The idea of confronting the Wanderers without proper gear or cover didn't appeal to her in the slightest. Besides, hadn't she already fulfilled Ian Hope's request?

"Be careful not to step into the rift's domain," Diana added as she turned to leave.

But as she marched away, her steps gradually slowed. She stopped after barely twenty paces, her expression tightening further.

"Ugh," Diana groaned, weighed down by lingering thoughts of her sword and mask—items Ian had taken with him. Especially the mask, a possession she valued almost as much as her life.

Lucia's resolute gaze refused to leave her mind. And if, by some miracle, Ian Hope walked out of the rift unharmed...

"Dammit," Diana finally muttered, turning back.

Lucia, who had just pushed herself upright, turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. "You didn't leave?"

Diana stopped with a sigh. "Let me make this clear. If I sense the Wanderers or any other demons, I won't hesitate to run without looking back."

Lucia blinked, a faint smile forming on her lips. "Understood. Do what you must. But—"

Her gaze dropped to her palm. "I don't think that'll happen," she murmured.

Diana's eyes followed Lucia's downward glance. On Lucia's palm, crossing multiple scars, was a vivid and ominous mark, as if etched in blood.

"I think he's already found his way back," Lucia added with a small smile, lifting her head to look behind her.

Naturally, Diana's gaze followed. Her eyes widened instantly. "No way."

A silhouette emerged through the swirling mist. It was clearly not one of the Wanderers—there was no glow of teal energy.

"Impossible," Diana whispered, dumbstruck, as the figure became clearer. It was Ian. He had made it out of the rift's edge alone. And he had done it with uncanny speed and precision.

"Sir Ian!" Lucia ran toward Ian, who had just stepped out of the rift's boundary. He raised a hand, signaling her to stop, as a faint smile played on his lips.

"You left quite the trail behind."

"You saw it? Thank goodness."

"Yeah, I saw it. It was helpful."

Listening to their exchange, Diana finally realized why Lucia's arms were bare. That pretty girl had come up with a plan, even in such a dire situation.

"Well, that's good. If you hadn't found it, I might've had to get by with bare fists."

"Next time, at least drop the flail last," Ian replied, resting his palm on the crown of her head. His gaze then shifted to Diana, and she froze. Ian's eyes were calm but unnervingly cold.

"Lucia is safe, so you survived one close call." He stepped forward, his voice low.

Diana’s expression flickered. "One?"

"If you want to make it through two, you’d better answer honestly." He stopped in front of her, meeting her gaze head-on. "Did you know, from the start, that we might get ambushed at the edge of the rift?"