The fire at night was always terrifying, as people wished to illuminate the darkness with warm candlelight, not aggressive tongues of flame symbolizing destruction. When Jorgen arrived, the entire quarantine house was engulfed in flames, becoming a fiery coffin representing danger and malevolence, too intense to face directly. Straw and wood crackled and blackened in the intense heat, emitting cries of agony mingled with sparks shooting into the sky from the chaotic roof.
Renner was also present, and Jorgen noticed his face and upper body were blackened from soot, likely from an unsuccessful attempt to enter the fire. Renner nervously watched the fire, occasionally glancing back. Some soldiers rushed towards him, carrying buckets of water.
"Renner," Jorgen had to raise his voice to speak, "what happened?"
"I don't know. It's been burning for ten minutes."
"Has anyone managed to escape?"
"Not yet," Renner paused before adding, "including Amy. No one has come out."
None. This meant Amy and the fifteen plague-infected individuals were still inside. Her room was only five steps away from the entrance, and it would take less than ten seconds to get out—assuming she was still inside.
The soldiers sent to carry water and fight the fire had finally arrived, and Renner gestured for them to act, but they hesitated, unsure of what to do.
"What are you all standing around for?" Renner demanded.
"Lord Renner," one of the soldiers standing at the forefront spoke, his eyes filled with unease and fear. "Isn't the entire house infected with the plague?"
His expression reflected the concerns shared by most of the soldiers. Approaching a house full of the plague, a place they should avoid, was a daunting prospect. Risking getting burned by the flames to save a group of plague-infected individuals seemed futile, especially when water was so crucial in the Plaguelands. Perhaps... it would be better to let it burn.
Jorgen turned to look. Many people had gathered around the perimeter, standing further away than the usual safe distance designated for this quarantine house. They were at a loss, but not worried, as standing there seemed safe. If the Plaguelands had any advantage, it was that the lack of flammable material on the ground prevented fires from spreading easily. As long as the quarantine house burned down, the fire would be extinguished. The flickering light made the onlookers' facial contours appear swollen and blurred, while the flames' reflection danced in their pupils like the specters of spreading plague.
Renner quickly walked towards the soldier who had spoken earlier, snatched the water bucket, and moved closer to the house. Just then, Jorgen caught a strange scent – not the smell of burning wood or flesh, but something more pungent.
"Come back!" Jorgen shouted, running towards Renner. As Renner approached the side of the house with a distance of two meters, he spilled the water, causing the flames to recede slightly. But suddenly, with the accompaniment of exploding sounds, the flames surged forward. He fell to the ground as a cloud of smoke and ashes rolled over his head. Jorgen rushed forward and helped him up, both of them crouching back to their original positions.
Renner looked up, coughing a few times, with burns on the right side of his face, and some splinters stuck in his skin.
"It's an explosion," he said, "the liquids inside the house..."
Small explosions kept erupting from different parts of the house. The soldiers became even more reluctant to approach, and Jorgen and Renner no longer urged them. Firefighting was futile.
Elin ran over towards them. If Jorgen hadn't held him back, he seemed like he would rush into the area of the explosion.
"Where were you?" Jorgen said.
"Is Amy still inside?" Elin seemed to not hear Jorgen's words, his eyes fixed on the flaming coffin. "Did anyone come out? What about Coersta?"
Jorgen tugged him again. "Elin, I asked where you went."
Elin finally snapped out of it, and Jorgen had never seen him so disoriented before.
"I came from Nehari. Jemar disappeared."
It seemed like all the bad premonitions were coming true. "What happened?" Jorgen asked.
"I was planning to check on him at his house, but Nehari's guards told me he's been missing for ten minutes. The door to his room was open. I arranged some guards to search the area."
"What about Nehari, does he know?"
"Of course, he knows, but he's still upstairs and hasn't come down. Who knows what he's up to. Now this fire... No one came out? Really no one? But we have to do something... just stand and watch it burn like this?"
"Yes," Jorgen said, "I'm afraid all we can do is watch."
Knowing that it would be the most sensible action to immediately go search for Jorgen, Jorgen couldn't bring himself to do it. The fire seemed to possess an evil power, attracting everyone to witness how it ravaged and then extinguished. Not only those from the Alliance, but even adventurers from the camp also noticed it. They poked their heads out of their tents, gazing at the blood-red sky. Even further away, on a watchtower of the Horde, an orc sentry was about to report what he saw to his superiors. Perhaps infected animals, the Bloodscar Crusader, and even the Scourge scattered throughout the Plaguelands were all witnesses of the fire; but in their eyes, it was just an insignificant part of the countless destructions occurring in the Plaguelands.
Just then, a commotion came from the group of soldiers who had been ordered to put out the fire but gave up. Elin looked over and said, "I thought this night couldn't get any worse. Trouble has arrived."
It was Flint. He knocked down two soldiers bare-handed, and the others shrunk back, watching him grab two buckets of water and drench himself before heading towards the fire.
"Flint," Renner ran over and grabbed his shoulder, "are you insane? This childish behavior..."
"Don't stop me." Flint turned around and shook off Renner's hand, pulling out his dagger and charging towards the fire. Though it was only a warning gesture and didn't hit anyone, it still caused a stir among the soldiers. They were about to protect their commander, but Renner raised his hand to stop them.
"Let him be," Renner said, "let's see what he can do for Amy."
"He's going to make the Bloodscar Crusader lose face." Elin said.
When Flint was about ten meters away from the isolation room, he stopped. In fact, almost everyone present held their breath as they saw something—a wall of the room collapsed inward, and a black figure emerged from the flames, surrounded by fire. Nobody could clearly see his face. The figure staggered out and then fell to the ground, but suddenly raised his head, reaching out his right hand to crawl forward, his knees dragging along the ground. Then, his left hand reached out, pressing on the ground and lifting, but the wrist had already turned into charred flesh and broke apart.
"He's a man, right? Is he still alive? Should we try to save him?" "How can he move in such a state?" "I think he's..." The soldiers were arguing, coming to an unspoken consensus.
The situation was dire. Jorgen rushed towards Flint, with Elin following closely behind.
The charred figure continued crawling towards Flint. When he was about a meter away from Flint, he couldn't crawl any further. His right hand reached out as if trying to grab Flint's foot but couldn't fully extend. He lifted his head slightly, revealing the lower half of his face burned to the bone, exposing his gums and jaw.
"If it weren't for you, Amy wouldn't have..." Halfway through his muttered words, Flint's blade swiped about an inch above the ground, separating his head from his body, rolling to the left, leaving scattered embers on the ground. Elin overtook Jorgen and tackled Flint, knocking his dagger to the ground.
"He's not a Scourge yet, he's still a person! You madman..." Elin punched Flint in the face, then grabbed his collar and pulled him up. "His name is Jonathan, he gave me a note to collect his wife's letter. Do you understand? He's still human!"
Flint snapped out of his sudden attack, gripping Elin's wrist and twisting it back. He flipped over, about to retaliate, when another small explosion forced both of them to hit the ground. Jorgen and Renner took the opportunity to approach and pull Elin and Flint back.
"Both of you have done something worthy of reporting to the Internal Court of the Seventh Fleet," Jorgen said. "Calm down."
"Enough, let go of me, Jorgen. I'm fine," Elin said. Jorgen knew this was a rare moment of impulsiveness for Elin and released his grip.
However, Flint's reaction was much more intense, and Renner had to call several soldiers to help before finally subduing him. With no knife in hand, Flint used the sheath as an improvised weapon against the approaching soldiers. Renner unsheathed his longsword and knocked Flint's neck with the hilt, and then the soldiers rushed to subdue him, pinning him down as if he were a dangerous fugitive. The soldier who had been struck by Flint took the opportunity for revenge and struck him several times.
"Let me go!" Flint screamed hoarsely. "Amy is still inside, someone go help her... if it weren't for these damn infected, she wouldn't be stuck in there... Listen, all of you, I've only killed one, it's not enough! I should have killed them all long ago, they'll all turn into enemies sooner or later... Amy..."
He continued to shout incoherently, interspersing Amy's name in his rambling. His face was smeared with blood and soot, soldiers had no choice but to hold him tightly, believing that if they loosened their grip even slightly, this first-class agent from the MI7 of the Intelligence Bureau would rush into the flaming coffin without hesitation.
Jorgen observed Elin as he redirected his gaze away from Flint, looking down with a dejected expression, his hands weakly placed on his waist.
"Are you okay?" Jorgen asked.
"I'm fine. The problem is that guy over there. He killed our soldiers in front of so many witnesses, he'll need some favors from the military court..."
"Don't change the subject, Elin. Did anything happen between you and Amy?"
"No, nothing happened, not even a copper coin, a strand of hair, or a loud fart. Are you getting nosier, Jorgen?"
Jorgen understood that Elin was deliberately concealing his emotions, and the fact that he could speak like this meant he was back in work mode, so Jorgen didn't pursue the matter. "Alright, I believe you. Even if something did happen, as long as it doesn't affect our work, I won't make any unnecessary comments. The fire won't be extinguished anytime soon, but we have other tasks to focus on, so let's stay calm and not follow Flint's example."