I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

Chapter 162

The Wind Blade that shot out momentarily slowed Ian’s speed. Following behind, the greatsword cleaved through the barrier at an angle, extending outwards. Ian drew upon his holy power and twisted his body with all his might. His joints felt like they were screaming, but he ignored it. Soon, the blade slipped out of the barrier.

Boom!

Ian crashed into the barrier back-first.

The spikes densely embedded in the barrier thudded against his armor. Some pierced through the gaps between the chain links at his waist and arms. Ian merely furrowed his brow, paying no heed. He trusted his regenerative abilities. There was no need to remove the spikes. Even if they caused some kind of status effect, he was confident he could overcome it.

Rumble—

In the aftermath of the collision, the severed vines began to cascade down in front of him, tangled and resembling a heap of severed snakes. Nathen also fell among them.

Thud—

Nathen, who had fallen, rolled among the blood-splattered heap of vines. The thorns embedded in the vines pierced his entire body. Only then did he drop the fairy dagger he had barely managed to grasp. His hand, which had gripped the dagger, was not only burned but also charred black. Yet, he could barely manage a groan.

Amidst the blood pouring down like rain.

Ian landed, greatsword in hand, only a few steps away from him. Looking down at Nathen, Ian raised his greatsword and spoke.

"Nice to see you."

"D-damn it—!" Nathen hurriedly reached for the ebony staff that had fallen beside him.

Swoosh— Crash—

However, the greatsword fell mercilessly, splitting his body in half.

A beat later, blood spurted from Nathen’s body, split by the broad blade of the greatsword. Just as flames of magic began to swirl in Ian’s eyes, gripping the hilt with both hands.

Splash.

Nathen’s blood gushed out like a fountain, while his true blood separated and was drawn beyond the barrier. The remaining blood lost its strength and poured out. Ian’s entire body, already red from the fluids, was now stained a bright red.

Whoosh—

Fireballs rose around Ian.

What a belated response, damn it.

Closing the quest completion window that appeared before his eyes, Ian looked at the ground. The rose vines sprawled, bleeding. Nathen’s dismembered body, already dried out, crumbled into ashes.

Even the ground was absorbing the spilled blood without a trace. Ian picked up the fairy dagger and the ebony staff among the remains.

After shoving the greatsword and staff into his pocket dimension, he finally turned his gaze.

"Screech!"

"Raaa!"

Crash! Slash!

The battle between the maids and his group was still raging. The group was gradually retreating, steadily reducing the number of enemies. Despite this, many maids remained. Some of the maids rushed at Ian, brandishing their wavy daggers.

Ian shook his hand as he drew a new sword. The flames flickering around him surged out as if they had been waiting.

Boom, boom, boom—

Explosions erupted among the maids charging at him and in the midst of the rampaging horde as the maids engulfed in flames screamed.

"...!" Alfwyn, who was engaged in a duel with Mev, saw this and leaped back. Maids filled the gap left by him.

Meeting Ian’s gaze, he spoke. "I didn’t expect Sir Nathen to fall so soon. You truly are remarkable...."

Despite his calm tone, his expression was less composed than before. His well-groomed hair was messy, and his face was smeared with sticky blood.

Of course, he wasn’t as much of a mess as Ian.

Moving forward with a bloodstained appearance, Ian spoke. "You’re next."

"It seems that way...." Nodding his head, Alfwyn suddenly turned and bolted. He rapidly approached the corridor.

"...?!" As Ian’s eyebrows shot up, the remaining dozens of maids also rushed toward the corridor. Only a few, entangled with his group, attacked more ferociously as if resigned to their deaths.

Seriously, are they really running away?

Despite the unexpected response, Ian started to run as well. However, Alfwyn was already out of sight in the corridor. Only the backs of the fleeing maids were visible.

Ian shouted. "Everyone, follow me!"

Exchanging a glance with Charlotte, Ian also entered the corridor. The Wind Blade enveloped his entire body, and the approaching maids were momentarily close.

"Kiyaaah!"

"Die!"

Suddenly, two of the maids at the rear turned around and charged toward Ian. Throwing daggers at him, they extended their arms with claws protruding. Frowning as he deflected the daggers, Ian slowed his pace and swung his sword.

Slash!

The Wind Blade that followed his trajectory sliced one maid at the waist and cut through the shoulder of the other. However, the maids did not die from this. Even as their bodies were severed, they continued to reach out, trying to grab Ian. Eventually, Ian planted his feet and threw a punch.

Crack!

The holy power and momentum added to his punch crushed the head of the maid whose upper body remained. Her face caved in as she was flung against the nearby wall. The sword blade then buried itself into the crown of the other maid who had been reaching out with her last arm.

Are they employing a suicidal tactic...?

They wouldn’t call it that here, but it was effective nonetheless. The gap between him and the maids widened once more. Clicking his tongue, Ian started running again. He could hear the footsteps and breathing of his companions behind him. Charlotte was leading them, following close behind. Since there was only one corridor, he didn’t have to worry about them getting lost.

Ian kept his eyes fixed on the backs of the fleeing maids.

Is this what those who chased me felt like...?

It was a strange feeling. While he had often been in situations where he was pursued, it was rare for him to be the one chasing his enemies. Moreover, they genuinely feared him. Nathen had even regarded him as a reaper.

Of course, their flight was not solely due to fear.

They must be heading toward a trap or intending to regroup with others.

Even as he speculated, Ian did not stop his pursuit. It was a trap and enemies he would face regardless. Given the situation, failing to stop him would mean death for them as well. If they kept running like this, they would be drained of their true blood and die just like before.

Ian clicked his tongue briefly at the thought.

Recovering the true blood meant that the Empress was growing stronger. Though there were bound to be side effects from harboring so much true blood, they wouldn’t matter to him immediately.

It was an absurd situation. The battles that exhausted him were, in turn, strengthening his enemy. But he had no other choice. He resolved to burn as much of the true blood as he could to prevent its recovery.

"Kyah!"

"Kyaaah!"

Even as they fled, the maids kept attacking him in pairs. Each time, Ian granted them an equal death and continued pursuing the remaining maids. The vine walls on either side had returned to their original height. It seemed like only the walls near the clearing where they first fought had grown rapidly. The maids’ figures turned the corner but did not completely disappear from sight.

Ian thought that Alfwyn might not be there anymore. He might have just been bait to distract him.

"...!"

Ian’s frown deepened as he turned the third corner. Far ahead, the maids were already turning the next corner and disappearing.

Crunch, crack—

In front of him, where there had been a wall, vines were now receding, revealing a new corridor. The path the maids took was being sealed off by vines from the walls.

What caught Ian’s attention more than the changing path was the man standing at the end of the new corridor. A large man wearing a mask made of roughly tied wooden planks, an apron soaked in blood, and holding a large pair of garden shears with rusted, red blades.

He looks like a horror movie serial killer.

As he thought this, a quest window appeared before his eyes.

[Gardener of the Maze Mansion.]

Letting out a hollow laugh, Ian increased his speed. Since the path had already changed, he had to kill this guy. The gardener seemed capable of altering the maze’s structure.

If he let the gardener escape and the paths kept changing, they might end up wandering the maze forever. Of course, he’d find another solution before that, but killing the gardener here was the easiest and most certain way.

"Ahhhhh—" The gardener roared, snapping his shears shut right after. A reddish magic spread from his body into the vine walls.

Woosh, swoosh!

A sound like a whip cracking echoed from beyond the corner. Philip, gasping for breath and looking back, widened his eyes to the point of tearing.

"Lord! Run faster! Everyone, run faster! Aaargh!"

The upper parts of the walls beyond the corner were surging like waves. The vines were bending down and then whipping up. At this rate, they’d be crushed by the closing walls.

"...!"

Taking in the scene, the group began to run with all their strength.

Is he a gardener or a beast tamer?

As Ian thought this and looked ahead again, his frown deepened further. The gardener was now holding several vines twisted together in each hand.

Magic surged through his entire body. He reattached the cut ends of the vines. The vine, now reconnected, slithered like a snake and moved behind him. The gardener bent down, one hand gripping the garden shears planted in the ground, the other holding the end of the vine. Standing up straight again, he swung the vine with all his might.

Slash.

The twisted vine fell straight to the ground like a whip. It was an incredibly long, thorny whip.

"Ahahahaha!" As he swung the whip back and forth, the gardener let out a laugh that sounded like phlegm bubbling in his throat.

This guy is seriously insane.

Ian surged up his magic power. The gardener’s size alone indicated that he possessed incredible strength. While he, blessed with the blessing, and Philip, who could use holy power, might withstand it, neither Charlotte, who wasn’t wearing a helmet nor Mev, clad in full armor, could be guaranteed to come out unscathed if caught in it.

Moreover, the wave of the vine walls was getting closer and closer.

Philip’s shout continued. "My lord! Behind! Behind you!"

Now what, damn it.

Ian turned around, his eyes blazing with power. Beyond the corridor, obscured by the wave of the vine wall and then reappearing, stood Alfwyn and the maids.

It seemed that they had circled back with the gardener’s help.

Whoosh—

Ian ground his teeth as flames danced around him, more numerous and intense than usual due to the chaos power imbued in them. Without hesitation, he directed all the flames toward the gardener.

Boom— Boom, boom—

The flames clashed with the thorny whip, causing about half of them to explode.

However, the remaining flames engulfed the gardener and the walls around him, causing explosions. It was enough to stop the gardener’s whipping.

As Ian swallowed a sigh of relief.

"Groooar—" The gardener, engulfed in flames, let out a howl. It was a cry of pain and fear, completely at odds with his size.

Of course, it wasn’t pitiable at all.

The next moment, the power burst from his body, and the walls around him, covered in a dark red mist instead of flames, rippled like waves.

Woosh.

The speed of the wave that followed increased right after.

This is driving me crazy.

As Ian pondered his next move.

"This won’t do! Everyone, get down! Trust me!" Philip extended his right arm and shouted.

Ian, seeing the dazzling golden light emanating from his sword, slowed down and threw himself to the ground.

"Everyone, stick to the ground!"

Seeing Charlotte and Mev also throw themselves down, Philip extended his sword one last time and dove.

At the same time, a brilliant light burst from his sword. The light turned into a golden barrier that covered the party.

Swoosh—

And the wave of the wall swept over them. The party only felt a brief touch of something hot on their backs. As soon as the thorns and vines touched the dazzling barrier, they turned to ashes.

The thorny wave passed over the party. As the holy barrier dissipated, firefly-like lights, created by the dispersing holy power, mingled with the fallen thorns and vines, swirling in the air.

"Hah..." Ian let out a short breath and stood up. His gaze was still fixed on the gardener, who was writhing in the heat beyond the receding wave.

As Charlotte and Mev also stood up.

"See that!"

Philip jumped up triumphantly.

"I told you to trust— urgh!?" Mid-sentence, Philip turned around with a start and reflexively swung his left arm. But the sword’s trajectory was faster.

With a short, sharp sound, Philip’s movements became stiff. The group simultaneously turned around. Philip collapsed immediately after.

"Philip!"

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