I Became a Dark Fantasy Villain
Chapter 473

Chapter 473

"… Right," Ian replied.

Unlike Diana, his voice was completely calm. His gaze, fixed on the undulating curtain of dark clouds, was the same.

Diana caught the shift in his expression and narrowed one eye slightly.

"We have to run," said Seren, standing beside her. As her mane-like dark blue hair scattered, she looked to the side with narrowed eyes.

"Right now."

"That’s pointless, sir." It was Diana who answered curtly. "It might look slow, but even at full gallop, we wouldn’t escape it. Which means…"

Glancing at Seren with decidedly calmer eyes, she finished her sentence while looking back at Ian. "We’ll have to endure it with the Agent of the Saint’s magic."

Seren, her eyes widening, looked back at Ian. "You are truly a mage of such a high level?"

Her voice carried open astonishment and disbelief. It was only natural. Knowing Ian was a mage was one thing, but expecting him to wield high-level magic was another matter entirely.

"Well, not really," Ian, answering with a somewhat reluctant tone, stepped onto the stirrup and added as he stood up. "But we don’t have much choice, do we? If we want to live."

"That storm… it’s not quite like the ones I know," said Lucia.

Her eyes squinted against the sand-laced wind, but the calm had returned to them as if her being dumbstruck was merely a momentary overwhelm from the grand sight.

"I don’t think it’s a storm. It feels more like… a sand tide. Which means…" She glanced back toward Ian, expression unreadable beneath her steel mask. "Maybe we can just withstand it. If we’re careful."

She was likely worried about magic consumption. It was also the reason Ian’s tone had become somewhat reluctant.

"If it were a normal sandstorm, maybe. It would be dangerous, sure—but between us, we might have held out," said Diana, shaking her head.

Glancing at Ian, who was dismounting from the saddle, she immediately continued, "But that is clearly an ancient spell cast by Yanar Tash, that damn worm. It will be more ferocious than a normal sandstorm. We’ll drown in sand—"

"Relax," Ian interrupted dully, now standing beside her. "I’m not planning to take it head-on, either."

"Really?" Only then did Diana exhale, just a little. As she did, Ian turned back to face the monstrous black tide surging across the desert before them.

The scale is absurd, but still.

In truth, it was likely nothing more than an exceptionally strong gale—just packed with an immense amount of sand.

That alone made it an impressive piece of magic, but there was no need to give in to panic. Even without unlocking any new skills, Ian could likely withstand it with the resources he already had. Perhaps even with a far lower cost than expected.

What really concerned him wasn’t the sandstorm itself.

Perhaps that storm is…

—Watching you all get so tense is kind of fun, but…

Yog’s voice broke into his thoughts with a soft chuckle. All at the same moment, Lucia, Seren, and Ian—now mounted on Moro—looked at Diana. Diana, flinching for a moment, narrowed her brow as she realized they were all looking at her.

—Now’s not the time to be so focused on just that, is it?

Yog added lazily. No one failed to understand what its whisper meant. The gazes of everyone except Diana turned almost simultaneously toward the bottom of the hill. Now that they were paying attention, it became clear that the earlier tremors and howls had stopped.

Diana, who looked down the hill a beat later, also frowned.

The Desert Basilisk, its hide torn in various places, lay on its back. It was oozing bodily fluids from its wounds and only twitched its body intermittently, as if having a seizure.More horrifying was the fact that writhing movements were spreading from various places beneath its hide. It wasn't difficult at all to imagine what was happening inside its body right now.

Diana’s gaze, her eyes narrowed in disgust, soon stopped near the basilisk. "Knew it…"

It was because a giant, grayish-black maggot lay crushed there. Even covered in sticky mucus, its sharply pointed teeth, arranged in a circle, repeatedly opened and closed.

"Those are definitely sandworm larvae. Though they differ in many ways from how I knew them."

"If it’s a sandworm…" Lucia murmured, trailing off.

Diana nodded. "Yeah. Yanar’s little offspring."

"Looks like they’ve made quite a home for themselves in the desert," Ian muttered dryly. He had already turned around and placed a metal storage box on the ground behind him.

"The current masks won’t be enough, so prepare yourselves thoroughly." Spitting out the words as he turned forward again, he immediately started walking down the hill.

"I’ll take care of those things," said Ian.

"You mean… you’re going after those larvae yourself? Right now?" Seren asked, her brows drawn tight.

"They’re coming for us next," Ian said without stopping. In his right hand now was the black sword. "And they’re already on their way."

Only then did Seren and Diana finally sweep their eyes across the lower ridge.

Yog’s snickering echoed in Ian’s mind.

—Pity. I wanted to surprise you. Would’ve loved to see the look on your face.

So this little bastard was holding back on purpose…

Ian clicked his tongue. However, he didn’t slow down. His gaze, as he walked, was fixed on the area below.

Ssshhh...

The rippling sand ahead was rising, bulging upward in uneven curves as something beneath it climbed the slope. Ian didn’t need to wonder what was buried underneath.

—Sandworms are said to be the most common, and at the same time, the most important life form in the desert.

Voices flickered through his memory: Seren and Diana, speaking about Yanar Tash.

—They’re said to live forever. Though their growth is so slow, they remain prey for over a hundred years.

That had been part of the story he’d heard when asking about Yanar Tash.

—But if one survives for centuries... it becomes a predator with no equal. The old Vantruians called such creatures "Yanar."

—The oldest of them was called Yanar Tash. Rumor says it lived over a thousand years. It was once the guardian deity of the desert.

The rest of the tale had been predictable.

When the Empire’s invasion began, the desert tribes were destroyed or subjugated one after another. But even among the destroyed tribes, there were survivors. Some of them performed forbidden rituals, carved ancient spells onto their bodies, and headed into the desert, offering their lives to Yanar Tash.

—It's only a legend, though. No one knows how much is true. Maybe it was just a worm that devoured too many Imperial troops and lost its mind. However, what we do know is this: the desert’s guardian god became the desert’s archdemon.

Looking back, it hadn’t been a particularly useful story. All he really learned was that Yanar Tash was a sandworm thousand years old and that it could use magic.

Fwoosh—

A geyser of sand burst into the air ahead. A larva had launched itself like an arrow from the ground, trailing debris behind it. It was the size of a small wild dog, its slate-gray body tipped with a maw of concentric, saw-like fangs snapping outward.

What met it was a searing arc of violet light. Ian’s black sword, wreathed in Fang of Heaven Defier, tore clean through the larva’s body.

Splutch—

The larva tumbled onto the sand, spilling sticky mucus from its severed section. Ian, who had lowered his stance and brought his sword down to the very end, immediately kicked off the ground again without looking back.

Fwoosh—

It wasn’t just one. Another larva that burst through the sand without any warning was once again swept away and sliced by the purple trajectory. Ian clearly registered the image of the larva as it brushed past him.

Hard to believe these things were ever considered prey out here.

Of course, they were likely corrupted now, mutated into something far more monstrous. Either way, they weren’t much of a threat to Ian.

Their ambushes were too slow and their teeth couldn’t even graze him. His sword, enhanced by the Fangs of Heaven Defier, had no trouble carving through their dense, rubbery hides.

Skkrrrtt— Kkrrkkk—

Of course, if he had lacked in any one aspect – strength, speed, senses, or armament – they would have been quite threatening. But unfortunately for the larvae, Ian was a rare being who possessed all of those things.

Guess I’m just well-matched against these things.

Unlike most mages, Ian found ambush predators easier to handle. Even the ones that had been feeding on the basilisk were now lunging for him—but Ian cut through them, one after the other, without pause.

Splutch—

Ian, who had been advancing relentlessly while swinging his sword, finally stopped. The larva that had just been torn apart by his black sword was the last one.

More than a dozen larvae lay twitching behind him now, their torn bodies scattered across the sand like broken toys.

Swoosh—

A sudden blast of wind swept over Ian, strong enough to stagger him for a moment. He grimaced as the sand-laden gust stung his face, then straightened, tossing the black sword back into his pocket dimension without a second thought.

Kwaaa... ahhhhh...

The storm filled his vision now, writhing like a sea of blackened clouds. At some point, it had crept dangerously close—and was still roaring toward him at terrifying speed.

I’ve had enough of this damn place…

More dangerous than the demonic beasts was the desert environment itself. It was just a short while ago that he was almost buried underground and nearly swept away by a landslide. Having to survive by fending for himself while crossing the desert was absurd enough, and now, a sandstorm was closing in.

Ian swallowed yet another sigh—he’d lost count of how many now.

"Sir Ian!" Lucia’s voice rang out from behind.

Lucia’s shout came from behind. Mounted on Moro, she was galloping down, cutting across the middle of the slope. She had another hastily made mask layered over her iron one.

Tap, tap, tap!

Seren came running close behind, carrying the supply chest, while Diana clutched the leather water pouch to her chest like it was a treasure. Even Diana now had cloth wrapped around her mask.

Ian turned and ran to meet them. The wind surged from behind like a living force, hurling itself against his back, and the twitching larvae darted past him on either side.

Grrrrowl...

As Moro twisted its body to slow down and Diana skidded to a halt, scattering sand, Seren, who arrived last, hurriedly held out the storage box.

"Here, Agent of the Saint—"

"Good work." Ian pushed the storage box into his pocket dimension.

In the meantime, Lucia, who had dismounted from Moro, held out what was in her hand—a mask for him.

"Everyone, stay close behind me," muttered Ian, layering the new mask over the one already covering his nose and mouth. He then turned around.

Woosh!

A rolling wall of darkness was now upon them. The gale was so intense that it made it hard to even keep his eyes open.

Breathing is definitely more stifling, but…

The sand-blocking effect was certain. Even with his brow furrowed, Ian’s eyes were already shifting—turning to a light golden brown, shimmering with a faint violet flare at their center.

He extended his left hand forward.

Shhhk—

Magic pulsed from his palm, carving out concentric circles across the sand. Then, as he turned his palm toward the sky, the sand in the area spiraled and shot upward in unison. It was right after that Ian clenched his fist.

Crunch, crack! Thud!

The sand spiraled inward, tightening into a solid, oval-shaped wall that formed a protective dome around them. It was wide enough for even an ogre to stand inside.

The sound of the wind, which had been deafening, subsided as if cut with a knife. Moro’s body radiated a faint violet glow, preventing total darkness and casting soft light throughout the interior.

"We’re alive… holy shit." Diana muttered, breathless.

As Diana finally slumped down, Seren, who had been looking around blankly, asked, "What kind of spell is this?"

"Sand Prison," Ian replied.

"Sand… prison?" At his answer, Seren’s brow furrowed reflexively.

When Ian merely shrugged, her eyes finally widened. "This, really?"

It was clear she had never seen anyone cast a Sand Prison this large or this durable. It wasn’t surprising. This was originally a spell used merely to trap an enemy for a moment, to buy time to prepare the next spell.

Rmm… Rumble…

It was then that vibrations and noise began to spread along the outer wall. It sounded like hail hitting a windowpane.

They had entered the sandstorm’s domain.

"How long do we have to hold out?" Lucia murmured, looking up at the ceiling. She, too, had slumped down beside Diana.

Diana replied with her eyes closed, "No more than an hour. At the longest."

"The spell might not last that long."

At Ian’s following voice, Diana’s eyes flew open. "What?"

Ian met her gaze calmly, then gave a slight shake of his clenched left fist.

"This spell wasn’t originally designed to be used like this. I might need to recast at some point. So…" He glanced around at the group, then jerked his chin downward. "Everyone, get low. Stay as close to the ground as you can."

Before he even finished speaking, Diana flattened herself on the ground, her belly pressed down. She clutched the water canteen as if cradling an egg.

Seren and Lucia both leaned forward, hunching down against Moro’s side as the beast itself crouched low to the ground.

—Oh my…

A wriggling movement spread from Ian’s wrist. Yog had returned at some point.

—It would be best if everyone lowered their posture further. Something is approaching.

All eyes immediately turned to him—everyone’s, except Diana’s.

Ian narrowed his own and muttered, "Be more specific."

—I don’t think I need to be.

Yog’s whisper followed immediately.

—It’s already too close.

Crack, crash!

A heavy shock slammed into the dome, and a section of the Sand Prison shattered into a spray of dust and debris.

Boom, boom, boom—

Something massive and black forced its way through the breach. A gaping maw opened wide, swallowing darkness itself—its rows of teeth jagged as stalactites, glinting with a deadly sheen.

It was yanar, the predator of the sands.