I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain

If you’d like to make a one-time donation to support our translations or subscribe to read up to 10 chapters ahead, you can do so via Buymeacoffee.

For every 2 donation, Ill release an extra chapter the following day.

The Marquis’ condition was far from normal at first glance. Black veins like spiderwebs spread across his neck and face. His bloodshot eyes darted incessantly around, unceasingly restless. The hand gripping the staff trembled. The Curse of the Swamp had begun to take effect, that much was clear.

Mason, who remained unaware of this fact, asked.

“Father, why, why are you like this?”

The distressed Marquis shouted.

“Can’t you see it? The mark of the shining goddess on the soldiers! The divinity bound to spears and bows…?”

“What in the world…?” Mason started to ask, but fell silent.

The Marquis’ irises began to tint with shades of purple upon seeing Ian.

“Finally, finally, everything becomes clear! You, you’re not just a mere divine knight! Týr’En, you were the damned avatar of that goddess!”

A thunderous roar echoed.

The Marquis imbued his entire body with magic and charged forward.

“Don’t mock me…! I won’t accept your judgment!”

Astonishment rippled across the faces of the people and soldiers who gazed at him.

“Lord, he truly has fallen!”

“The young lord’s words were all true…!”

A relieved smile finally appeared on Ian’s lips. There was no need to continue mimicking that nauseating parody of a divine knight.

“Why… damn it…!”

Mason sighed in exasperation, taking a step back.

Ian lunged at the Marquis.

Just as the Marquis’ staff was about to strike, Ian’s blade, infused with a faint divine power, aimed for the Marquis’ throat. The moment the staff struck down, a surge of magical energy erupted.

“Ugh…?! Ugh, ugh, wha…!”

“Thud, crack…!”

Under the influence of the expanding shockwave, soldiers’ bodies twisted unnaturally, producing eerie bone-cracking sounds.

His veins pulsated with blood, and his eyes turned a vivid shade of red. A similar phenomenon occurred among the soldiers inside the walls.

The lucky ones who had avoided magical fall were taken aback for a moment, then their joints contorted, and they charged towards their comrades. Chaos erupted atop the walls.

“Ugh-! Crazy! Let go! Let me go!”

“Ugh! Dammit! Die!”

The castle walls turned into a chaotic battlefield.

“I didn’t know you would show your true colors like that… .”

Declan muttered while looking at the scene, and eventually drew his sword.

“Everybody, step back! Paton! lead everyone and follow me!”

While he was leading his mercenaries, he started running toward the castle gate.

“I don’t think it’s magic. He was hiding an eccentric talent.”

Muttering, Ian climbed up the wall and threw himself.

The marquise, whose eyes were all purple, raised his staff.

Ian’s sword was easily blocked.

The Marquis’s hand was transforming like that of a monster as the skin peeled off before he knew it.

Black, bloody lips curled up.

“It is the primordial power bestowed by the true god of the void… . Unlike fake gods you-”

Puff-

It was then that a silent explosion occurred from Ian’s sword.

Vacuum explosion.

It was an explosion that occurred in a very small range, but it was enough to blow away the Marquis’ wand and the hand holding the wand, leaving only a drop of blood.

The moment the Marquis’ eyes widened as if they were about to tear, Ian’s sword flew into the exposed space.

Quack-!

The blade of the sword, lodged in the Marquis’ profile, passed through the cheekbones and stopped at the nose.

“….!”

The raised Marquis’ eyes twitched.

Ian’s eyes staring at him were filled with gray magic.

“You should have changed at the time you were talking about it.”

Squeak-

The wind blade that spread along the blade cut the Marquis’s face cleanly up to the cheekbone on the other side.

The severed head of the Marquis slipped and fell.

Amid the blood gushing from the cut section.

“Mind… law… ?”

The body of the Marquis, with only the lower part of his nose remaining, collapsed with a sigh-like agony.

Ian did not stop there, but mechanically charged and cut off the head of the fallen Marquis.

The Marquis’ body sagged.

“Whoa… .”

Finally, Ian let out a breath and lowered his sword.

… I wanted a clean cut.

While he clicked his tongue, he picked up the head of the Marquis, which had been split in two.

“Sir. Are you finished already?”

Philip, who came running panting, stopped beside him.

Blood was already splattered on his face, as if there had been a skirmish.

“Not yet. Don’t lose it, It’s the head of the Marquis.”

Ian held out the cloth bag containing the Marquis’s head.

“Go and help the soldiers.”

Philip, who tied his pockets tightly around his waist, ran out without a word.

He’s a little more useful now.

Ian looked at Declan, who had reached his side.

“Focus on rescuing the soldiers! Sir Doran! Lead the soldiers! We can’t trust any other commander!”

Declan, who had approached him screaming, faced him.

“Ian, are you okay?”

“As you can see. The Marquis is dead.”

“I didn’t know my father would do this. Could it be that you did something?”

“Well. It’s a trade secret.”

“Okay. Whatever it is, it makes things easier.”

Declan’s gaze narrowed as he surveyed the situation. With mercenaries joining them, the tide of the conflict shifted towards them.

“By the way, where’s your brother?”

“The moment the Marquis revealed his true form, he fled. He was heading towards the inner sanctum.”

“Oh, really…? There must still be plenty of your father’s followers and your brother’s subordinates left in there. What a nuisance.”

As Declan’s gaze narrowed, Ian adjusted his sword and said.

“Is there a back exit from the castle?”

“Next to the inner sanctum, there’s a side gate that leads to the stables. From the stables, there’s a rear exit. But wait, you don’t think my brother is actually going to abandon the castle and flee, do you?”

“You won’t know until you check. Enough explanations, let’s go.”

Ian turned his attention toward the inner sanctum and added.

“Guide us. If you want to personally take your brother’s head.”

“If that’s what it takes, I’ll gladly step forward.”

As Declan shouted to hold their position and form a perimeter around the inner sanctum, he rushed toward the staircase.

***

Ippotranslation

***

“Damn it…!”

Mason burst through the side gate, his breath ragged. He had never thought the day would come when he’d have to flee through servant passages.

“What in the world was Father thinking…?”

Touching the bandaged right wrist, he looked back at the still chaotic wall and shouted.

“Quickly, move! If you don’t want to die here!”

“Yes, yes, my lord!”

Carrying their bags, the servants and knights who had followed him, bow their heads

Mason’s personal attendants who had received the Abyssal Baptism through him. They quickly made their way to the stables.

“Sir. What is this all about… Ugh.”

The knight who had pierced the approaching stableman without hesitation gestured to the seed, signaling him as he approached with fear.

The maid rushed to fetch the horses they would ride.

“Bring it in as your lord said. The last thing in Orundel is this reeks stable… Damn it.”

Entering the stable, Mason unsheathed his sword with a scrape.

Declan. That lowly guy brought a divine knight.

Even just imagining him taking the lordship made his stomach churn.

“I should have killed him earlier. …But it won’t take long. Everything will change when I reach Agellan.”

Mason muttered as if making an oath.

“That old deer can’t abandon Orundel either. He has no choice but to give up his troops…”

The ambitious glint in his eyes faded quickly.

“What are you messing around with? Where do I mean… .”

Mason’s voice grew faint as he turned around.

A knight with a sword sticking out from his chest, barely breathing, was swaying his mouth from a distance.

He couldn’t even groan as the blade pierced his lung, collapsing to the ground as the sword was pulled out.

Then Ian’s figure was revealed.

“Guh…!”

Mason, meeting his black eyes, gasped.

Ian, who had just beheaded the fallen knight, finally smiled.

“I’d like to hear what you just said again.”

“Yes, you, when…!”

Mason stumbled back.

His gaze swept through the stable in despair.

Words that snort nervously.

And a servant, sitting against a pillar in front of the stable.

“Even if you look at us like that, no one is coming to help, brother.”

Declan, who had revealed himself next to the pillar, swung his sword, cutting the servant’s neck.

The severed head rolled away.

A short dagger with only the hilt visible, deeply embedded in his forehead.

“De-Declan, you damn traitor! Do you think you’ll get away with this?”

“Will you get away after what you’ve done even if you abandon God?”

Thunk, Mason’s back hit the back door of the stable.

His gaze turned to the latch.

“It’s better not to do that. If you want to keep even your remaining left hand.”

Ian approached leisurely.

Mason, driven by his revulsion, drew his sword with his left hand.

“Don’t mock me! I won’t fall for it again!”

“Your story fits perfectly.”

Ian smirked.

“Your father also died while he was blabbering instead of revealing himself.”

“What… Did you say?!”

Blood rushed to Mason’s eyes.

Ian lunged toward him.

Thunk!

Mason blocked Ian’s sword with his own.

He moved skillfully with his left hand as well.

Ian’s smile grew deeper.

“Your actions are just the same.”

Boom.

A silent explosion echoed.

Mason’s sword was knocked away, and his arm was shattered into pieces.

“Ah, aaah! My hand! My hand!”

Screaming, Mason had lost both hands.

Ian chuckled, seemingly amused.

“That’s why you should have transformed earlier. Creatures like you can’t unleash their strength without focusing their minds.”

Of course, he never intended to wait for the transformation.

Crack!

Ian smiled faintly as he held Mason’s ankle and snapped it.

“Aaah! Aaah!”

Mason writhed on the ground.

He wanted to keep Mason from transforming.

Whack, the blade plunged into Mason’s other thigh.

Ian seized Mason’s hair as he convulsed, his eyes holding a grip of madness.

“I’d like to cut your throat with my own hand, but I’ll hold back if you answer honestly to my question.”

“What, what do you want to hear…?”

“The old deer, who is he?”

“Th-that’s… Aaagh-!”

As Ian twisted the blade, Mason hesitated before screaming.

But there was no warmth left in Ian’s gaze that stared down at Mason’s terrified eyes.

He was only after the answer he wanted.

Moreover, Mason had heard the term old deer before.

‘Andolf… I wasn’t just talking nonsense.’

Cursed Andolf. Because that was what he said in his journal.

Now I think I know who it refers to.

All that remains is to hear the name directly.

“Looks like a noble from Agellan. If I ask you one more time before I cut your thighs. Who is the old deer?”

“Duke Brandt… !”

Mason vomited.

Ian’s eyes narrowed.

“If it were Brandt, would it be royalty?”

“Okay…! Regis Brandt. My father and I serve him… .”

“Is he the old deer?”

Mason nodded.

A faint smile crossed Ian’s lips. Because he got the name he wanted.

He didn’t even know Regis had such a name.

“Regis Brandt? the Duke Brandt, His Majesty’s uncle and the foot of the kingdom, a fallen?”

Declan asked in surprise.

Mason chuckled.

“So you have the kingdom in your hands. The king is an idiot who knows nothing. A soldier who believes that he can win any war just by accepting the taxes and information we pay….”

Ian grabbed Mason’s chin.

“Thank you for the information. Now, your tongue is no longer needed.”

“……?!”

As Mason stared with wide eyes, Declan sat down beside Ian.

“Ian, can I make a request?”

“Speak.”

“Would you spare even my brother’s tongue for me?”

“Not a bad proposition.”

“……!”

Mason looked at Ian with eyes that asked if he wasn’t saying something different.

Ian shrugged his shoulders.

“According to the agreement, I am restraining myself. It’s just that your brother can’t.”

“What does that mean…?”

Declan squeezed Mason’s jaw.

“I’ve been waiting for today more than you can imagine, brother.”

With a smile directed at Mason’s eyes filled with terror, he continued.

“Since the day you sent the poisoned food to our house, my mother and I. It’s been years now.”

“……!”

“My mother didn’t know either and thought it was a gift from my father.”

He spoke calmly, as if reminiscing about good memories.

But his eyes, fixed on Mason, were not smiling at all.

“My mother threw herself in front of me to block me from eating the food. Even when she was frothing at the mouth, she shielded me. Later, I found out that she had bitten her tongue. Almost to the point of severing it. She tried to regain consciousness somehow to save me. So…”

Declan brought the dagger to Mason’s mouth.

“I wanted to make you understand the pain my mother felt.”

Mason struggled desperately to close his mouth, but all it took was a light tap of the blade on his thigh from Ian to force it back open.

Hands, feet, and tongue severed, Mason Burchard, never had the chance to reveal his true self as his neck was cut off.

Amidst the gaze of everyone inside and outside the castle.

Under the hands of Declan Burchard, the new lord of Orundel.

Tl/n: Consider donating, Your support is needed.

Translator; ippo

Please rate this series here.

Schedule: Pending @ UTC+ 12:00 am. 3 – 4 ch a week

https://ko-fi.com/ippostranslations