I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 829

The smuggling ship, Black Wave, cut through the current, slowly veering to the right.

Swoosh, crash—

Sanford stood at the right-side railing of the slightly tilted deck, one foot propped up. In one hand, he held a small compass, eyes fixed on it.

Looks like it’s about time...

Sanford lifted his head and looked out past the starboard side.

Beneath a sky thick with dark clouds, distant cliffs stretched like a mountain range of rock.

It was the western part of the Empire, the mainland they had left behind.

He gave a small nod, then raised the hand holding the compass and turned his gaze.

On the deck below, halfway down the stairs, Hashim leaned out and shouted, "Starboard! Keep rowing at the same pace!"

The synchronized cries of the rowers faintly echoed as the hull straightened.1

Tap!

After glancing up at the triangular sail stretched wide across the central mast, Sanford lightly vaulted onto the railing.

Gripping a rope that ran diagonally from the mast to the railing, he steadied himself with one hand, briefly checking both the compass and the horizon beyond the bow.

As he raised the compass again, Hashim shouted, "Stop! Cease rowing!"

The long oars beneath the hull, moving like fins, halted simultaneously.

However, Sanford wasn’t even looking at them.

His single eye, turned to the right, was fixed instead on another ship trailing diagonally behind them.

It was the Crimson Coral Reef, captained by Yalo—the Kurdian known as the "Sorcerer".

Do they really need to stick this close?

Sanford’s nose twitched.

The same went for the Silent Storm, following from the opposite rear. It was close enough that its mast was clearly visible.

Its captain, Nikau, an islander known as the "Finger Collector", was pressuring him as well. It was obvious they wanted Sanford to keep up the speed.

Greedy bastards... and still scared out of their wits.

Sanford’s lips twisted a little further. There was no need to think deeply about why they were acting that way.

They had succumbed to greed and accepted the request, but they clearly found the commission unsettling. It was clear they wanted to finish it as quickly as possible.

Of course, it was also because Sanford had left out a few minor details. That was likely why they had set the condition of being allowed to pay their respects to the Agent of the Saint before departure.

Though he felt uneasy, he couldn’t refuse—but as expected, Ian was not so easily handled.

He had merely exchanged greetings and offered encouragement, saying he looked forward to working with them, but he hadn’t engaged in any deeper conversation. Whenever the captains tried to broach a topic, he cut them off, telling them to discuss it with Sanford instead.

Well, of course. It’s him, after all.

There was no way someone like him would fall for the petty tricks of those would-be pirates.

Recalling the faintly flustered looks in the two captains’ eyes, Sanford let out a low scoff. Of course, he didn’t realize that Ian had merely dumped all the bothersome responsibility onto him.

Even if he had, nothing would have changed. Either way, thanks to that, command of the smuggling fleet was in Sanford’s hands—and he had no intention of being swayed by their urging.

As Sanford turned his gaze and raised the hand holding the compass once more, Hashim shouted as if he had been waiting for it.

"Alright! Pull in the oars, rest!"

The ship slowed slightly, but the sails had properly caught the wind.

"Rest!"

"He says rest—"

Echoing responses rose from below as the extended oars retreated into the hull like fleeing creatures.

Sanford glanced down at them briefly, then finally turned and shouted, "Hashim! Get up here now!"

Tilting his head, Hashim climbed the stairs without protest.

Sanford dropped lightly from the railing, landing in front of him.

"Why did you call me, Captain?"

Sanford tossed him the compass. "Why else? Keep an eye on our course. If we drift, correct it immediately."

Reflexively catching it, Hashim blinked in confusion. "By myself?"

"Why are you asking something so obvious?"

"Well..." Frowning, Hashim stepped closer and lowered his voice, glancing around. "This isn’t like usual."

At that, Sanford Plum’s gaze instinctively swept to either side.

All over the deck, beastfolk and fairies were scattered in pairs or groups of three.

For now, they were glaring at each other, whispering under their breath—or outright ignoring one another. However, he knew very well the kind of chaos they had stirred up in Rune Catis.

He smacked his lips and answered, "Can’t be helped. The Agent of the Saint said to come once things settled."

Hashim, who had been holding his breath, let out a low sigh. "Then we’ve got no choice... but what if a fight breaks out in the meantime?"

"What else? Don’t get dragged into it. If anything happens, run straight to me," said Sanford, turning away.

"Yes, Captain!" answered Hashim, looking relieved. He looked ready to come running at the slightest problem.

Seriously, that guy doesn’t match his size at all.

Shaking his head, Sanford strode forward. He headed beneath the raised stern deck, toward the carriage hold that led to the cabins.

"Try breathing a little quieter. It’s annoying."

"It’d be simpler to cut off your ears."

The whispers from passing fairies and beastfolk were, of course, ignored.

No matter if he’s the lover of the head of House Erenos and the Great Warrior of the beastfolk, this is insane.

Sanford opened the storage door.

A foul smell greeted him as dim darkness spread inside.

Beside the stairs leading down to the cabins, a carriage stood secured in place.

Snort...

A white horse tied beside it exhaled sharply and turned its head toward him.

Even in the gloomy interior, it seemed to shine on its own.

It looked nothing like the horse Sanford remembered Ian riding before, yet it carried the same strange sense of pressure and inexplicable intelligence in its gaze as it stared at him.

"Th-The Agent of the Saint called for me."

That was why Sanford muttered under his breath as he stepped inside.

As if it understood, the horse snorted again and turned away, trudging toward the other warhorses lined up behind it.

Now I’m bowing to a horse too...

Swallowing a hollow laugh, Sanford approached the tightly shut carriage door. After taking a breath, he carefully knocked on the window, and the door opened at once.

"Come in." The voice came from inside.

Within the dim, slightly cluttered carriage, Ian sat writing a letter. It seemed he had opened the door with that power of his again.

"E-Excuse me..."

Lowering his voice without realizing it, Sanford stepped carefully inside. He swallowed dryly when a liquor bottle resting on the floor slid up into the air.

"Sit. I’ll be done soon. Have a drink while you wait," Ian added without even looking at him.

As Sanford took the bottle, a goblet from the nearby chair floated over as well.

"Y-Yes, Agent of the Saint..."

Holding both the bottle and goblet, Sanford sat diagonally across from him.

His eyes briefly scanned the items scattered on the seat beside Ian, then the two swords leaning against the opposite seat.

He jerked his gaze away. For a moment, it felt like the dark blade, lying there without even a sheath, had let out a low hum.

Pouring wine into his goblet in a hurry, Sanford carefully asked as he set the bottle back down, "Who are you sending that letter to?"

He had realized that the letter Ian was writing was a Scroll of Correspondence.

"The representative," Ian answered without even looking at him.

"The... representative?" Sanford asked blankly.

Only then did Ian pause and glance at him.

Startled, Sanford quickly lowered his gaze. "S-Sorry. That was an inappropriate question... haha..."

"That’s not why I was looking," Ian replied casually and looked back down at the letter. "If you’re bored, start with your report."

"Yes—yes, of course."

Sanford nodded immediately, took a sip of wine, and began.

"We’ve successfully settled onto the route. The other ships are following without issue."

Without realizing it, he straightened his posture and even slipped into the tone he had used in his navy days.

"We plan to increase speed intermittently by rowing. Even so, it’ll likely be around this time tomorrow before we leave the inner sea."

"And the beastfolk and fairies? Any trouble?" Ian asked without pausing his writing.

That alone made Sanford hesitate for a moment. After a brief internal struggle, he answered, "There have been... some arguments."

"That’s manageable. I’ll say this in advance—if anything more serious happens, don’t get involved. Just report it to me."

"Yes, understood, Agent of the Saint." Sanford bowed his head at once.

Now I get how Hashim feels.

Ian finally set down his pen and looked at him. "Clean and concise. As expected of someone with command experience."

Sanford couldn’t help but smile faintly.

"Then let’s get to the point. You have a rough idea why I called you, don’t you?" asked Ian.

"Yes. You want to hear more about the archipelago?" Sanford asked carefully.

Ian nodded as he began rolling up the scroll. "Right. The rulers, the islands, the cities—names, traits, anything. Doesn’t have to be organized. Just tell me what you know."

"Understood, Agent of the Saint." Sanford lowered his head, then took a drink. He needed it to organize the flood of thoughts running through his mind.

Ian, who had set the scroll aside, also raised his goblet without rushing him.

"As you already know, the ruler you’ll likely meet is Hector Drapier. His adjutant is a man named Theodore Turner. If Villanueva still stands, you’ll probably encounter him first. I mostly dealt with that man as well. There are a few more subordinates, but they’re not important. Would you like me to list them?"

Ian immediately shook his head, lightly tilting the goblet in his hand as if to say it was a good question. "No. Just the important names."

Sanford continued, "Judging by what you’ve said, they’re likely already corrupted, but... another Imperial-born lord is a man named Almand Angria. He governs Tipica, one of the largest islands in the archipelago—"

He listed the other lords, along with the islands and major cities they controlled.

"Rimuta... and Kanora..."

Ian listened while sipping his drink. He didn’t interrupt or question, only occasionally repeating key names under his breath as if committing them to memory.

Perhaps because of that, Sanford spoke with even more enthusiasm, pouring out everything he knew.

"That’s all I can recall for now, Agent of the Saint."

At last, Sanford brought the goblet to his lips again. He felt utterly drained from talking so much. It felt as though an hour had passed.

"This has been more useful than I expected, Sanford," Ian said with a faint smile.

Sanford smiled in return. "I’m glad to hear that. I may have missed a few things, but... is there anything else you’d like to know?"

"You said the fleet that sank in the Inner Sea made up more than half of their forces. What state would they be in now?" Ian asked, gently swirling the wine in his goblet.

Sanford narrowed his eye slightly before answering, "It’s been some time, but... I doubt they’ve recovered much. Ships of that scale require significant manpower and time even to build a single one."

Sanford took a sip from what little wine remained and met Ian’s steady gaze.

"There aren’t many shipwrights with that level of skill. Even if they try to rebuild on their own, it’ll take them several more years to fully recover their strength."

"Then at best, they’ve only added a few ships by now."

"That’s just an estimate. They’re corrupted, after all. It wouldn’t be strange if they were restoring their forces through some other, unnatural means."

Resting his chin on one hand, Ian narrowed his eyes slightly as he asked, "Unnatural means?"

Sanford swallowed dryly before continuing, "I’ve only heard it in passing before."

He suddenly flinched. A knock echoed against the closed window.

Ian met his eyes and tilted his head slightly, as if telling him to open it.

Reaching for the door, Sanford swallowed again. He was certain it had to be Hashim. There must have been a fight on deck.

However, the figure revealed beyond the door was not what he expected.

A fairy stood there, cloaked, with platinum-blonde hair falling to the nape of her neck. Her pale, expressionless face matched her lifeless gaze.

But that wasn’t the only reason Sanford blinked in surprise.

How is she here?

She was one of the fairies aboard the Crimson Coral Reef. He remembered her face because she had been the one giving orders to the other fairies and beastfolk.

Of course, there was also the matter of the ash-gray leather boots she wore, adorned with gold and reaching just below her knees.

As Sanford’s eyes twitched, finally recalling how closely the ships had been trailing, Ian asked, "What is it, Diana?"

The fairy, who had been looking at Sanford without interest, shifted her gaze to Ian.

"When you’re done talking, can you spare me a moment?"