Chapter 49
"Cut.. my hair...?" Lucia followed up with a question, to which Ian nodded.
"It's dangerous outside. Being a boy isn't necessarily safe, but it's less risky than being a girl. Plus, you're too conspicuous right now. We need to disguise you a bit," said Ian.
In 21st-century South Korea, she might have lived a brilliant life as a beauty. But in this world teeming with thieves, bandits, degenerates, monsters, and other races, her appearance was just inviting trouble beyond imagination. Of course, she would be safe as long as Ian was with her.
However unforeseen situations could arise at any time, so it was best to be prepared. After all, from what he had experienced, variables were not to be controlled but prepared and responded to. Lucia's thoughts on this, however, were likely different.
Her slightly agape mouth made it clear. Ian felt a strange pleasure in having surprised this mature child. Mev, seemingly oblivious to her inner turmoil, seriously nodded in agreement.
"That's a very good point. Lucia, you understand why I keep my words to a minimum outside, don't you?" Mev asked.
"...Yes," Lucia answered.
"Ian's suggestion is in the same vein. It would be best to follow it," said Mev.
Lucia's mouth closed again.
After looking down at her face for a moment, Ian finally said, "Bring the scissors, Philip."
***
Snip, snip.
The cutting of the scissors continued unabated. Lucia, who was sitting at the table, had closed her eyes at some point, not just because of the hair falling on her face. Her hands, resting on her thighs, were gripping the hem of her dress tightly.
Not making a sound of crying was mature enough, but she couldn't completely hide her feelings as usual.
Ian suddenly spoke, "It's already happened. Accept it. Think of it as being reborn as a new you. Actually, it's not even wrong."
Lucia's eyelids fluttered for a moment, apparently touched by his words. Philip looked at him as if wondering how he could be so indifferent, but surprisingly, Lucia's expression started to relax.
"It's done. Open your eyes." When Ian spoke, shaking his head, her clenched fists had already relaxed.
Lucia looked around at the hair scattered about. As she touched her now-shortened hair,
"It looks a bit rough, but it suits you, my lord," Philip said.
Ian, who had been intently watching Lucia, nodded, "Yes. Now that it's cut, I see it clearly."
He reached out and gently lifted Lucia's chin, "The problem wasn't the hair. The real issue is the face."
"...?" Lucia looked up at Ian. Her expression, previously trying to hold back tears, now carried a strange sense of anticipation. Philip, of course, and even Mev nodded in agreement.
"My lord, you are exceptionally good-looking," said Philip.
"Our family is often told we have outstanding looks. It's only natural for Lucia to be beautiful since it runs in the royal blood," said Mev.
Ian also nodded as if agreeing. Indeed, Lucia could easily pass for a beautiful young boy. Her looks alone were enough to attract the attention of the myriad crazies in this world.
"Philip. Go to the kitchen and bring some ashes," said Ian.
"...Ashes?" Philip asked.
"Would you rather roll the lady in the dirt?" Ian asked.
"Ah. Understood." Philip quickly ran off.
Lucia, seemingly fascinated by her shortened hair, kept stroking it.
Well, someone's quick to adapt, Ian thought to himself with a silent chuckle. Having grown up experiencing all sorts of unfortunate events since childhood, this much would be nothing.
Soon, Philip returned with a bucket filled with ashes. Ian, after dipping his hand into the pile of ashes, grabbed Lucia by the nape of her neck.
"Close your eyes and hold your breath," said Ian.
Lucia complied. Ian's hands moved across every corner of her face, leaving traces of ashes behind.
Holding her hair, Ian meticulously applied ashes to her neck and ears, resembling a kind of religious ritual. Indeed, everyone except Ian seemed to be experiencing a strange solemnity.
Finally, Ian stepped back and said, "It's done. Open your eyes."
Lucia fluttered her shoulders as she opened her eyes, seeing her reflection in the mirror Ian held out. Her hair was short and tousled, her face grimy. The shock was brief.
"Wow..." Lucia let out an inexplicable exclamation, starting to inspect her face from various angles, seemingly enjoying the transformation and even smiling slightly.
"We should also come up with an alias. Something that sounds like a boy's name," Ian added nonchalantly.
Mev nodded in agreement. "That's a good idea. An alias..."
"Lucifer," Lucia blurted out suddenly, capturing everyone's attention.
She continued calmly, "It means morning star in ancient language. Shortened, it's still Lucy and it's a male name."
Well, where I came from, the name carried a very different connotation, thought Ian.
But, shrugging it off internally, Ian conceded, "Let's go with that. It might be good to come up with a surname as well."
"A surname too?" Lucia asked.
"It’s a preparation for any scenario. Hmm..." Ian's gaze wandered to the bucket. "How about adding Ash?”
“Lucifer Ash..." Lucia repeated the name and nodded, "I like it."
"Then, from now on, that's your name. Get used to it, so you can respond without hesitation in any situation," Ian advised.
Ian’s gaze then shifted to Philip. "Prepare to leave, Philip."
***
With a displeased look, Philip glanced back at Ian as he passed the guards, clicking his tongue conspicuously before entering the mansion as if nothing had happened. It was all an act, designed to ensure there were plenty of witnesses to testify about the supposed rift between Ian and Mev. Of course, that wasn't the real purpose.
"All cleared out, indeed," Philip remarked as they passed the garden.
Ian moved forward without response. The nearly ruined mansion was once the residence of Regis Brant. The family members had been executed or imprisoned, and all the property was seized or burned.
The guards stationed at the entrance were there in case of any remaining traitors. Ian, however, was an exception.
"But there must still be a hidden chapel somewhere," said Philip.
"If you know, then search instead of talking. Or just wait here quietly," said Ian.
"I can't miss the last chance to help you, my lord. And honestly, I'm curious about what we'll find," Philip replied.
He has grown a lot. The guy who used to tremble at the mere mention of corrupted magic thought Ian.
Ian explored the mansion, which was now easier to search due to its emptiness. Entering what used to be a library, Ian sensed the presence of a secret space. His skill in finding the secret places of the corrupt seemed to be improving.
"My goodness," Philip exclaimed, having scoured every corner of the library. He pressed a brick behind a bookshelf.
Click.
A lock disengaged. Pushing the bookshelf aside revealed a narrow staircase leading downward.
"You've finally done something right at the end," Ian remarked with a smirk, descending the stairs.
The damp, narrow underground revealed a stone chamber lit by torches, with Philip shrugging his shoulders.
"It's quite modest. Not what I expected," said Philip.
Regis's secret room was more plain and small than those of other corrupt individuals. There were none of the usual symbols or ancient scripts on the walls or ceiling, no books or diaries. Just a plain altar and a small wooden chest on top of it.
"There must be a reason for that," Ian stood in front of the altar. He had no idea what could be inside the wooden box. After taking a deep breath, he opened the box.
“What is it?” Philip's brows furrowed as he peered inside the wooden box, questioning.
It was a dark, murky piece, looking like something dried and hardened. Philip's eyes twitched almost immediately because of a whispering sound that seemed to brush his ears. It was the sound of panting breaths and unintelligible language.
"..."
Philip's eyes began to glaze over, becoming vacant as his consciousness grew hazy, drawn into the piece, and the black afterimages swirling around the object became gradually clearer.
The moment Philip's fingertips began to twitch,
"...Ha." A hollow laugh spread across Ian's face as he turned to look at Philip.
So this was how it possessed people, thought Ian. After observing Philip for a moment, Ian raised his fist.
Smack!
"Ouch?!" Philip screamed as he was struck in the face and collapsed onto the floor. Holding his jaw, he shouted with a face that seemed instantly sobered.
"Did, did you just hit me?" said Philip.
"I saved you," said Ian.
"What do you mean... oh, wait.” Philip blinked belatedly, looking back and forth between Ian and the wooden box.
"Wait, was I possessed? By what's inside there?" Philip asked.
"Yes. Don't you remember?" said Ian.
"Well, I remember looking at it, but...." Philip replied.
Philip's brow furrowed in confusion. His mind tickled with an indistinct sensation, like the day after heavy drinking, a complete blank in his memory. Vague fragments of a vast abyss flitted through his consciousness... almost consumed by darkness. It was then Philip's lower jaw began to tremble uncontrollably. Having barely managed to pick up the fallen torch, he looked up at Ian.
"Are... are you, sir, alright?" Philip asked.
"...No." Ian's gaze returned to the piece inside the box, accompanied by faint afterimages and whispers.
Ian's gaze returned to the artifact within the chest, surrounded by a blur of afterimages and whispers.
"It is trying to swallow my mind as well," said Ian.
It was just that he had a strong enough Mental Fortitude to remain unaffected.
Philip, who had been staring blankly at Ian's calm face, eventually asked, "What exactly is that?"
"This is an item from beyond,” said Ian.
"Beyond? You don't mean..." said Philip.
"It's what you might call a relic of the abyss or a dark artifact. I'm not sure how it was obtained, but the Duke had something genuine," said Ian.
Philip inhaled sharply. Dark artifacts, relics of the abyss, idols of the void... They had many names, but they all meant the same thing. Objects that should not exist in this world.
"So, stay back if you don't want to be possessed again," said Ian.
Only then did Philip hurriedly retreat to the stairs of the cellar, without giving another glance toward the chest, he exclaimed, "That thing must be burned immediately."
Ian snorted, "Simply burning it won't make it disappear. To eliminate this, it would at least have to be thrown into holy fire."
Ian was so assertive because he could verify the information of this dark artifact. It was the Tail Charm of the Hound. It seemed to be a part of that many-legged creature he had last sent back to the void. Although it was not a true ancient god as Regis had said. In relative terms, it was still an otherworldly being capable of leaving its power in the material world in the form of relics.
"So..." Ian reached out for the charm. The afterimages and whispers grew louder and clearer. Just looking at it triggered the first trial. From instant death to the curse of madness and conversion to zealotry, this charm carried restrictions that were lethal to the one with weaker Mental Fortitude.
Of course, this was not a problem for Ian. These illusions and auditory hallucinations could not even scratch his mind.
"No, this can't be...!" Philip turned his head too late, sensing something ominous. However, Ian was already clutching the charm.
"...!" Ian's eyes, wide open, turned pitch black. Illusions and auditory hallucinations engulfed his sight and hearing, along with a surge of corrupted magic. Philip screamed in horror, but Ian remained unfazed.
This was the second trial. In the midst of chaos, a quest acceptance window suddenly appeared.
[The Crimson Apostle of the Abyss]
A smirk curled on Ian's lips. It seemed they wanted him on the other side now. Of course, it was an offer that required no consideration.
Fuck you, Ian thought.
Ian drew upon his chaotic power. The situation changed in an instant. The corrupted magic was effortlessly repelled. Ian then pushed his chaotic power into the charm. It was engraving, a necessary process to claim a dark artifact.
The enraged breathing of the hound echoed in his ear. The illusion of the creature lurking beyond the abyss flickered before his eyes. But that was all. Ian's chaotic power dyed the charm. Soon, the hound, giving up its fragment, growled and disappeared back into the abyss. The connection between it and the charm was severed.
...Getting items meant for the corrupted is tough from the start, thought Ian.
Feeling his senses return, Ian opened his eyes. Turning to look at the petrified Philip, he waved the charm in his hand.
"I'll personally transport this to the Temple of Brazier," said Ian.
Philip, who had been holding his breath, soon realized it was nothing and blinked his eyes.
"Did you... seal it?" Philip asked.
"Something like that," Ian answered.
"How?" Philip asked again.
"Well," replied Ian.
Ian looked down at the charm. The power contained within was now entirely his own. It was meaningful even in terms of attributes. It enhanced strength, agility, and mental power. It made his senses sharper.
Additional resistance to states of fear and confusion was a bonus. Above all, it enabled the recovery of chaotic power. The attribute of chaotic power recovery of one might not seem high at first glance. But considering that the chaotic power he had used had not been recovering at all, this was something to be grateful for.
...It would be nice to get more of these in the future, Ian thought, pocketing the charm.
Of course, acquiring other dark artifacts would come with its risks. But it was worth the risk.
"The important thing isn't the method, Philip. It's the fact that Agel Lan has been completely freed from the grasp of corruption, at least for the time being," said Ian.
"...Surely, there wouldn't be many such ominous objects." Philip nodded his head, then marveled as if in awe.
"I am a devout follower myself, but I've never heard or seen anything like this. You might very well be an avatar of Lu Solar, absurd as that sounds. Otherwise, how could you achieve such a feat...," said Ian.
Would he still say that if he knew I could have become the Apostle of the Abyss just now? Ian thought to himself, his face briefly breaking into a smirk before returning to its usual expressionless state.
"Stop giving me that creepy look and turn around. I need to get some sleep now," said Ian.
***
On the following day, as the sunset's hues faded, the sky darkened to a deep navy.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
Emerging from the estate, a dual-horsed carriage proceeded at a leisurely pace down the principal route towards the gate.
"At this time... what could it be?"
The guards widened their eyes in surprise upon noticing the carriage's passenger. Recognized as the apostle of Tir En, the nation's hero.
"Make way, please," Philip, positioned in the driver's seat, requested.
The guards looked behind him with uneasy expressions. Mev was reclining in a tall chair, her legs extended on a footrest, with a maid seated on the ground, massaging her legs. The carriage was enveloped in carpets and wool, exuding a sense of warmth and comfort, resembling a nocturnal excursion by any standard.
"Apologies, but we need to know your destination at this time." A guard, appearing uncomfortable, spoke up.
"In light of recent events, His Majesty has decreed we be informed of all who enter and their reasons."
"It seems to vary by person, doesn't it?" Philip retorted coldly to the guards and added, "My lord is in a foul mood today. There's a good reason for it. So, enough with the idle talk-"
"Philip, don't be upset. They're merely fulfilling their responsibilities. They should be commended." Mev intervened with calmness, turning to address the soldiers, "Regrettably, I've been feeling rather confined and wished to briefly escape to the countryside to enjoy the night air."
Mev’s kind and courteous response softened the previously rigid faces of the guards, who after a brief exchange of looks, stepped aside, "Take care, my lord. There may be monsters out there."
"Thank you for your concern. But I can protect my people well enough," said Mev.
The carriage then proceeded through the gate. Passing the next gate was simpler, as having exited the inner city, it was presumed they had already undergone inspection. The carriage departed Agel Lan.
"As Lord Ian predicted, my misbehavior paired with your consolation ensures no suspicion falls upon us," said Philip.
"The good knight bad servant strategy. There's always something to learn until the end," said Mev.
Eventually, the carriage came to a halt. They were at a crossroads, enclosed by dense trees and underbrush.
“We have arrived. Please, come out," Philip announced, turning around.
Beneath Mev's chair and footrest, there began a stirring movement.
"In all my years, I never imagined becoming a footrest." Miguel emerged first from the wool, with Ian and Lucy sequentially showing themselves.
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