I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

Chapter 8



“What is that- Ian!” Maeve’s eyes widened as she watched Ian disappear into the distance “Stop right now! Come back!” Despite her desperate shout, Ian was swept away without hesitation into the midst of the wolf pack’s surge.

“Doing something crazy like that!” Philip burst out in amazement at the reckless and sudden action. Ian might as well ask to be killed.

As if on cue, a wolf pounced on Ian and blood spurted out, but it wasn’t Ian’s blood. Out of the severed neck of the wolf erupted a fountain of blood. A burst of sword light, and the wolf’s head had been sliced off with it’s mouth wide open. Before the wolf’s body could even tumble on the ground, other wolves rushed in from all directions.

Maeve’s eyebrows twitched for a moment in surprise as Ian leapt into the air. She watched Ian leap over the charging wolves, roll once on the ground, and then ran again. His speed was fast this time, maybe even faster than the first time. His image was blurring among the images of the wolves. In just a few seconds, he had torn through the surge of wolves. A few wolves tried to follow him, but surprisingly, Ian seemed to be distancing himself even faster.

Maeve, who had been gazing at the scene in a daze, tore her eyes away as part of the wolves tried to split away and attack them. “What should we do, Sir? Should we chase after him?” Philip shouted as he pushed the wolf away with his shield.

Maeve looked towards Ian’s direction, but Ian had disappeared into the darkness of the forest. Only the backs of the wolves that had been chasing him could be seen, and even those soon faded away. The words Ian had left before the battle began came to mind. “There’s something only I can do.”

Maeve said resolutely, “No. Hold your ground, Philip.”

“Then, please help a bit, Sir! At this rate, I’m really going to die!” In response to Philip’s cry, Maeve tightened her grip on her sword and she didn’t notice the vivid reddish light rising in a straight line from the depths of the forest.

——-

Ian wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about hunting. However, he did know what actions were absolutely forbidden when encountering predators, such as showing your back and running away. It triggered the instincts of predators. While an approaching target might be seen as a threat, a fleeing one would be perceived as prey. He had located the pack leader, so he had charged in recklessly.

Before long, Ian’s senses sent him a warning. “They’re coming.” He heard the wolf pack’s distressed breathing in his ear, which was distinct from their usual noises. It was a breath mixed with excitement and anger.

Ian slowed and the wolves that had been pursuing him rushed in as if they had been waiting for him. He had expected this reaction. The wolves were slaughtered in an instant. Ian splattered the blood from his sword as if displaying it.

Ian stopped abruptly as a growl came from behind him. He turned around to find intense reddish light and a pair of enormous fangs shining even in the darkness. “Angry?” he taunted.

The creature roared and lunged. In a red streak, claws etched their mark in the air showering down on Ian. The shield that had been persistently blocking the wolves’ attack shattered into pieces as the claws struck.

Ian stared in surprise at his broken shield. He stretched out his left hand as his eyes turned blue with magic. “Damn!” he hissed as the ice cold blue magic flowed into his grip forming an ice shield in front of his palm that covered his body. Spikes of ice sprouted from the surface of the shield resembling the spikes of a sea urchin.

Ian deflected the red claws of the alpha and smiled through the blue light of his shield, “Nice to meet you, mutt.”

The wolf lunged at him, his massive fangs tearing into the shield, shattering it into pieces. Ice shards scattered at the wolf who yelped in pain. It hadn’t torn through his thick hide, but it was enough to deflect the attack. With a crash, his massive body tumbled on the ground momentarily losing balance before rolling back to his feet.

The alpha let out a loud roar and clawed the ground. Deep grooves were carved into the ground by its long claws, droplets of blood dripped onto the ground.

Now, Ian could finally get a proper look at the creature. It was a towering figure over 2 meters tall, resembling a combination of a gorilla and a wolf. Its arms, longer than its legs, were as thick as Ian’s waist, with sharp blade-like claws at their ends. Its face, a gruesome fusion of human and wolf features, gleamed with a fiery red light. The dark fur on its body, as coarse as thorns, bristled in time with its breath.

In that moment, a translucent window materialized before Ian. It was a Sub Quest. He muttered as he readied his stance. “I expected it, but you’ve become even more grotesque, Andolf.” ‘Cursed Andolf’ was the name of the sub quest and the name of the wolf-human hybrid.

Andolf let out a loud howl, a skin-crawling roar that used to send characters into a state of fear in the game, but was now just a noise to Ian. He must have realized it had no effect, so he charged forward again, roaring as he pounded the ground.

Ian dodged the straightforward attack, expecting Andolf to immediately attack. The tree behind Ian snapped in half and a puff of dirt and dust rose into the air. A gust of wind cut through the dust as Ian’s sword struck deep into Andolf’s outstretched arm, even the wind blade couldn’t completely sever the limb.

Andolf screamed as he clutched his nearly severed arm. Blood splattered from his right arm as he staggered back. An explosion of gray magic, destructive despite it’s short range, burst from his forearm in a shower of flesh and blood. Andolf, barely staying on his feet, howled as blood pumped from his tattered arm. Without allowing him to examine his severed arm, Ian’s sword embedded itself in Andolf’s left arm followed by another explosion.

Ian, now covered in flesh and blood from the explosion of the wind blade, quickly retreated. “This damn blade!” His face was crumpled, not because he was covered in filth, but because his sword had broken into pieces once again. He had left the village only a few days before and his sword was already in this state.

Meanwhile, Andolf, who had been rolling on the ground while screaming, suddenly crouched down, long fur sprouting from his entire body.

“So soon?” Ian reflexively summoned the Frost Shield just as a red explosion erupted from Andolf’s body. It was a burst of pure magic, devoid of any tricks. Ian, who had barely hidden behind the shield, was flung away. While he rolled on the ground, Andolf, who had managed to maintain his balance after the explosion, leaped up towards Ian.

He was stopped short by a strong ice barrier. The barrier crumbled along with Andolf’s descent to the ground. The collapsed barrier re-froze, forming a honeycomb-like hexagonal pattern, so when Andolf stood up, he found himself trapped in a spiky ice prison. Andolf screamed as he threw himself against the walls of his prison, but the ice prison only shook and didn’t break.

“Seems like a different structure but similar pattern.” Ian slowly stood up, extending his hand forward. Even in the game, Andolf would escape after losing a certain amount of vitality. He could escape even if his head was blown off; he was impossible to catch. And after a few days, he would reappear in perfect condition, leading a pack of wolves.

So, to kill him, the order was to first cut off his limbs so he couldn’t flee. Or use movement-blocking skills like the ice prison currently in effect. However, Ian hadn’t anticipated Andolf choosing to flee as soon as his arms were severed. In the game, losing limbs didn’t deplete enough vitality to prevent escape. However, Ian remembered that Andolf’s magical explosion was an action he took only before his limbs were severed or just before fleeing. So, even as he was swept away by the explosion, he used the ice prison magic and it hit accurately.

“You startled me, thinking I missed you, you rascal.” Ian’s eyes, tinged with blood and dust, flickered with gray light. The magic in his hand shifted from blue to gray. The surrounding dirt and blood mist swirled into Ian’s outstretched hand, a whirlwind that spun fiercely enough to be visible. Amidst it, blue sparks began to sputter.

Sensing danger, Andolf charged at the ice prison. As the magic supply was cut off, cracks gradually formed in the prison, which eventually started collapsing. With a loud crash, Andolf shattered the ice and jumped outside only to be welcomed by a whirlwind carrying flashes of blue lightning.

The ice prison had given Ian enough time for the magic to be completed. In a flash of blinding light and wind, a lightning storm swept Andolf, causing a momentary visual paralysis. Fur stood on end all over Andolf’s body, his entire body convulsed, and a lightning bolt, like a swift dart, crackled around the creature’s convulsing form. From Andolf’s opened mouth, a plume of smoke burst forth, he fell to his knees on the ground.

Ian rushed in with his wind blade, his hand stretched forward towards Andolf’s stomach. The next moment, an explosion erupted in his stomach and Andolf fell backwards.

Ian finally let out a breath and slumped, still clutching his powered-up arm. His head was pounding from the continuous stream of magic, but he was ready to use it again, if needed. Now, unlike in the game, the creature’s health bar was not visible. Even though werewolves had high vitality, it was unlikely that he would be able to escape in such a miserable state.

The creature’s stature gradually diminished. Even the creature’s once-bestial head started to take on a more human-like form. Red magic rose from his body in a mist and disappeared. The faint light of reason returned to the eyes that had been full of wildness.

The tip of the creature’s chin trembled. “Thank… you.”

“If you want to thank me, tell me the clue to your curse, or give me loot. Don’t just talk to me.” Ian did not know what kind of curse Andolf had been subjected to. Maybe it was one of the subquests he had missed before.

“Old… deer.”

“Deer? What?”

No reply came. The creature had ceased to breathe.

Ian chuckled bitterly. “Did you eat the wrong deer by mistake?” Of course, it probably didn’t mean that. As the Cursed Andolf quest was completed, his strength attribute increased by one point. Now that he had no intention of investing points in anything other than intelligence and mental strength, it was a precious reward.

“At this point, he won’t look like he died from magic.” Ian nodded at Andolf’s corpse. He could have won much more easily if he had used the red magic, but then he would have had to lug a lump of charcoal back. He wanted to avoid the hassle.

Ian fixed his sword, which was almost torn in half, and knelt beside Andolf’s chest. He grasped the creature’s head and turned it to the side. Since he couldn’t carry the entire body, he intended to just take the head.

Something fell from Andolf’s wide-open mouth. It was a bead. It radiated a crimson light. “So this guy had an essence too?” Ian picked up the bead, his head tilting in curiosity. An essence condensed from a curse. It contained contaminated magical power of a different attribute from his essence.

“I don’t remember seeing something like this in the game.” Moreover, this one could be used right away. Of course, there was a fatal drawback that it would immediately plunge him into the madness of the curse. “I guess I can purify this too.” Ian placed the essence into a pocket dimension in the gap left by the essence he’d sold to Maeve. Now, he just had to find a priest.

Ian started to sever the creature’s neck once again. He received help from the wind blade, as he didn’t think his sword alone could withstand the task. Soon, he completely separated the head and threw the sword aside, lifting his waist.

A headache and hunger hit him belatedly. “I want some chicken and beer, and then a good sleep.” Muttering indistinctly, Ian, clutching Andolf’s hair, started walking. It had been a damn long night, but there was still quite a bit left until morning.


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