The air inside Vilro Adventurer's Guild bar was thick with the scent of roasted meat, spiced ale, and the sweat of mercenaries fresh off their jobs. Laughter and boisterous chatter filled the hall, a mix of rowdy adventurers swapping stories, drinking their worries away, and haggling over future contracts.
At one of the corner tables, a small group of mercenaries sat together, their tankards half-full, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across their faces.
Canaria leaned forward, a playful smirk on her lips as she addressed the man across from her. "How was your day, Josh? I heard you finished your job early."
Josh let out a dry chuckle, swirling his drink before taking a sip. "More like the job was canceled."
"Huh? Why?" Canaria and the others turned toward him, their curiosity piqued.
Josh sighed. "I was supposed to head to Walaroth, but the route was blocked. No way in or out."
Roy scoffed, shaking his head. "That island again? Walaroth's been a mess lately."
Wixel, the sharp-eyed strategist of the group, leaned back in her chair. "I overheard some traders talking earlier. Another batch of bodies turned up there."
Canaria frowned. "What's going on with Walaroth? I never really paid attention. I knew it was a hub for scum and illegal trades, but it's always been that way. Did a gang war break out?"
Josh's voice dropped lower. "Worse. It's like a curse has settled over the place these past six months."
Roy set his tankard down with a heavy thud. "You mean... it's not just gangs fighting over territory? Then what is it? A beast?"
Josh shrugged, his expression grim. "Could be. Could be worse. Some say a monster crawled out of the Wastes. Others think it's some cursed relic from the old world—something that should've stayed buried. No one really knows. The only thing they find are the bodies."
"Bodies and blood," Wixel added with a dark chuckle. "Sounds like Walaroth, all right. Maybe the land's finally decided it's had enough of us. Or maybe it's just thinning the herd."
Canaria swallowed hard, glancing between them. "But... wasn't there a hailstorm there a few months ago? I heard the ice chunks were the size of horses. And then those fires—they burned straight through stone, didn't they?"
Josh nodded. "That's what makes it worse. First the hail, then the fires, now this. One disaster after another, like the place itself is trying to wipe everyone out. There's no pattern. Just destruction."
The table fell silent, the lively noise of the guild seeming distant for a moment.
Then Wixel spoke again, her voice thoughtful. "I don't know if you noticed, but Count Heron's been mobilizing a ridiculous number of men lately. You think it's connected to Walaroth?"
Josh snorted. "Doubt it. Heron's as materialistic as they come. I once took a contract under him, but I backed out. The man hides too much, and his greed knows no bounds. I don't trust him."
Roy grunted. "Yeah, Heron's not lifting a finger unless there's profit in it. Walaroth's just a graveyard. What's there for him?"
"Cheap labor," Wixel muttered. "That place is a breeding ground for desperate people willing to do dirty work."
Canaria's expression darkened. "This whole city only thrives because it benefits him. If it ever stopped being useful, he'd let it rot like the rest of his territories."
Josh sighed. "That's why his gambling houses are dangerous. People go in and never come out. It's his biggest cash cow."
Roy exhaled sharply. "That's why we should get out of this town once we've saved enough. Nothing good comes from staying here unless you want to end up as one of Heron's thugs instead of an adventurer."
The others nodded in agreement.
A moment later, Canaria tilted her head. "Speaking of leaving, anyone heard about Jim? What's he up to these days?"
A flicker of something unreadable crossed Roy's face before he sighed. "No idea. I don't get that guy. If he had just apologized to Wixel, I would've let him back in the party."
Josh shook his head. "Don't blame yourself. It was his choice. He insulted you too, and what he did couldn't just be ignored."
Canaria crossed her arms. "Yeah, it's not like he was all that great anyway. We'll find someone to replace him soon enough."
Roy frowned, staring into his drink. "Sometimes I wonder… maybe I wasn't a good leader."
Wixel placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't say that."
And then—
BOOM.
The entire guild shook.
The laughter and chatter turned into screams. The air became thick with the scent of burning wood and something sharper, almost chemical. A shockwave rattled the windows, sending plates and tankards crashing to the floor.
Outside, flames licked the night sky. The distant sound of a second explosion roared through the streets. The ground trembled beneath their feet.
Roy was the first to his feet, his eyes wide. "What the hell was that?!"
The town was an inferno of chaos and destruction. The sky glowed a deep, hellish orange, thick black smoke choking the air. The ground trembled from distant explosions, and the once-thriving harbor had become a graveyard of burning ships and sinking debris. Fire ran wild through the streets, devouring everything in its path, turning homes and businesses into crumbling ruins.
Screams filled the air—some of terror, some of pain. Townsfolk stumbled through the fire-lit haze, desperately searching for shelter, for safety, for loved ones. The streets were a battlefield, but not just against the fire—looters had emerged from the shadows, preying on the weak in the midst of disaster.
But not everyone had surrendered to chaos.
Roy, sword drawn, moved like a tempest through the flames. His blade, infused with the Art of Wind, flickered with an emerald glow as he cut through the smoke, his movements swift and precise. A group of mercenaries had begun pillaging a jewelry store, but before they could escape, a gust of razor-sharp wind knocked them off their feet.
"I suggest you put that gold back," Roy said coldly, his sword hovering just above the leader's throat. The man snarled but froze as another burst of wind sent sparks flying around them.
One of the looters tried to draw his weapon, but Roy moved faster. A single step, a single slash—his blade whispered through the air, and the man collapsed, clutching his bleeding leg.
The others ran.
Roy turned to the civilians hiding behind a broken cart. "The south road is still open. Move before it's too late."
Meanwhile, Canaria stood amidst the chaos, chanting a spell. The air around her shimmered as magic pulsed through her veins. With a wave of her hand, a surge of water erupted from the cobblestones, crashing down over a row of burning buildings. Steam hissed violently as the fire was extinguished.
But it wasn't enough. The fire was too widespread. She needed more power.
Closing her eyes, she focused, gathering mana from the very air around her. Her hands moved in a precise pattern, and a deep blue magic circle formed beneath her feet.
Then—BOOM!
A controlled explosion of water burst forth, sweeping through the streets like a tidal wave. Flames sputtered and died, and for a moment, there was relief.
"That should buy us some time," she muttered, wiping sweat from her brow. But the fire wasn't the only enemy.
Nearby, Wixel had spotted a group of townspeople trapped beneath a collapsed wooden beam. Without hesitation, she rushed forward, planting her feet firmly on the ground. Her body tensed, mana surging through her limbs as she lifted the debris with sheer force.
"Move!" she shouted, her muscles straining under the weight. The civilians scrambled free, and the moment they were safe, she tossed the beam aside like it was nothing.
But her job wasn't done.
A monstrous creaking sound filled the air. The building next to them was about to collapse.
Without a second thought, Wixel raised her hands, and a shimmering barrier of mana enveloped the structure. The moment it fell, her spell held the debris in place just long enough for the people to escape.
"Get to the guild square!" she yelled, pushing them forward. "The wizards are setting up a barrier!"
Josh was elsewhere, darting through the burning alleys with his unmatched agility. His fists were bruised, his body covered in soot, but he didn't stop. Every time he saw someone trapped, he pulled them out. Every time he saw a looter, he put them down.
At one point, he found a group of children huddled in fear, surrounded by fire on all sides. He gritted his teeth, assessing the situation. There was no path through.
Except—
Josh took a deep breath, then charged straight into the flames.
The heat seared his skin, but he pushed forward, weaving through the collapsing buildings with precision only a fighter of his caliber could manage. When he reached the children, he grabbed the smallest one, throwing him over his shoulder.
"Hold on tight!" he commanded. The others clung to him as he leapt onto a half-collapsed roof, using the structure as a bridge. The fire raged around them, but he moved too fast for it to catch.
With a final leap, he landed outside the inferno, rolling to absorb the impact. The children gasped, wide-eyed but alive.
"Run to the south gates! Now!" he ordered.
The guards had finally mobilized, cutting down looters while trying to organize the evacuation. "To the gates! Guide the townsfolk out!" their captain barked, his sword slick with blood—though whether it belonged to criminals or innocents, no one could tell.
In the distance, the outer forest had caught fire, the treeline now a wall of flickering light. Roads, choked with panicked citizens, became death traps as the flames spread, turning stone paths into glowing rivers of heat.
Shaun strode through the burning streets like a phantom untouched by the flames. The fire raged around him, consuming everything in its path—wooden beams collapsed, stone walls cracked from the heat, and the screams of the panicked masses filled the air. Yet, he remained unaffected, his expression cold, calculating.
As he observed the chaos, his thoughts remained sharp.
"Good. If those guys keep rescuing people, civilian casualties will be minimal. With the combined efforts of the guilds, the guards, and other capable fighters, this town might survive—barely. I've already tasked Ignis with controlling the fire, ensuring it won't take innocent lives. It's a difficult job, especially when the flames aren't his own, but I trust my bird. He won't fail me. Once this is over, I owe him a reward for his hard work."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Now, if you're wondering why I'm even bothering to save people when it doesn't benefit me, you're wrong. Their survival does benefit me. Even after losing everything, people don't just disappear. They suffer. And when they suffer, they search for something—someone—to blame, or someone to rely on. Either way, their burdens will fall on the shoulders of this country's leaders."
His gaze flickered toward a group of mercenaries trying to maintain order, while others took advantage of the situation to loot and kill.
"I'm not a devil. I'll kill if necessary, but I'd rather not dirty my hands needlessly. Of course, I've still shattered their lives—I can't wage war without drawing blood. My attack ensured massive destruction, but it's not enough. I need to reach Heron myself."
Shaun inhaled deeply, the scent of burning flesh and destruction settling in his lungs. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched the flames dance—flames born from his own meticulous preparation.
"so how I did it?"
His thoughts drifted back to his time in silva forest. he was not merely training his familiars, he was also had been preparing for this very moment.
He had gathered the necessary components—Grokk carcasses, the remains of magical beasts, decaying plants, and waste—a perfect fuel source for his plan. Then, he introduced key accelerants.
Swamp Lurker Sacs, rich in enzymes and bacteria that hastened decomposition.Crystalline Jellyfish Strands, cultivated bacterial cultures that optimized methane production while suppressing undesirable byproducts.
He had constructed a hidden anaerobic digestion pit, where these materials broke down in a carefully controlled process, generating pure, volatile biogas—primarily methane.
And when the time was right, he used Umbra's spatial ability to store the collected gas and transport it unnoticed today i ussed my ability attack zone to mark few peces and than at every place i unleashed methane from the small spatial portal.
Piece by piece, he released the biogas into key locations—the harbor, market district, guild halls, guard patrol routes, economic hubs, trade zones, gambling dens, and even the forest outskirts. Every major point in town had become a tinderbox waiting for a spark.
And then, the spark came.
A single, well-placed ignition—perhaps a flick of a torch, the clash of a blade, or even a stray spell—set off the chain reaction. The fire spread at an unnatural, horrifying speed, fueled by the concentrated methane, transforming the town into an inferno within moments.
But his plan didn't stop at destruction.
"Of course, I never intended to let the flames kill everyone indiscriminately."
Shaun had ordered Ignis to manage the fire, ensuring that while structures burned, the people themselves would not suffer fatal burns. Through precise control of spread, heat, and temperature, Ignis manipulated the blaze, directing its hunger away from those who still had a role to play.
Yet, it was a task of unimaginable difficulty. The fire wasn't his own—it was wild, born from an artificial source, and controlling it required every ounce of skill and energy Ignis possessed.
Shaun's eyes narrowed as he continued his walk through the inferno, his mind running through the intricate steps of his plan. His voice, though not spoken aloud, echoed in his thoughts, his reasoning clear and methodical.
"why I didn't just have Ignis cause the fire himself, aren't you?"
His lips curled into a half-smile, a grim understanding of the situation painting his thoughts. "It's simple, really. Ignis's flames are far too distinctive. Mages, aura users, anyone with even the slightest sensitivity to the arcane could trace his fire. They would ask the obvious question—who caused this blaze? And if the wrong people start asking, it leads straight to me."
Shaun's eyes flickered to a group of fleeing citizens, their faces painted with terror as they ran for their lives.
"No, I needed something more subtle. More… natural." He allowed himself a small, cruel smirk. "Methane. It's a natural gas, but the source is easily explained as an accidental leak from a reserve somewhere in the town. The fire? A simple spark from any number of common causes. The flames will spread, people will die from the asphyxiation caused by methane, and all of it will be blamed on the accident."
He paused, his gaze cold and calculating as he surveyed the chaos unfolding around him.
"The beauty of it all is how undetectable it is. The more they focus on the fire, the less they'll notice what's happening in the shadows. Jim, will be on the move, finishing the work I've already started."