Leonardo managed to pull both Elara and Anna down just before the explosion's debris could strike them.
The once serene hill had transformed into a hellish landscape, the night sky reflecting off the train's yellow exterior.
Chaos reigned. Most people had failed to enter the train in time—and even those who did were not necessarily safe.
"What's happening?!" Anna screamed, her voice barely cutting through the cacophony. Elara stayed frozen in shock, managing only to mutter, "The people..." The flames had already scorched their clothes.
Elara's floral dress was now a charred rag. Leonardo's attire, though imbued with some protection, couldn't withstand the intensity of the flames.
Her thoughts spiraled. What was she even doing here? Her quest hadn't even begun, and already they were beset with problems: the detour—and now, the unexpected explosion of Right Star. She screamed alongside everyone else as chaos erupted around them.
Hundreds had entered; few survived. Leonardo's mind raced with possibilities.
Hearing cries from inside the train, he dashed forward without a second thought, flames licking at his body.
[Adaptive Evolution taking effect]
_His skin began to adapt the longer he stayed in the inferno, forming new layers. He reached the source of the screams, only to find the charred corpses of two school students.
His body stiffened, the flames reflecting off his mahogany skin like molten bronze, heat radiating in waves from his ash-coated frame.
[Thermal Regulation (Minor)]
The agony was immense—not just from the burning, but from the sight of the lifeless bodies. Tears welled in his eyes but evaporated in the heat. Then, a voice pierced through the chaos.
"Get down, everyone!!" a male voice screamed.
From the untouched lake near the explosion site, a semi-huge wave rose and crashed over the burning wreckage, quenching the flames. Leonardo stood there, stunned, the water evaporating off his seared skin.
"Death," he said mildly. This wasn't how he had imagined his first day in a new world.
The one who had doused the fire was like Elara and Anna—he too hailed from the Stem and had been given the quest of exploration.
[Story Skills: Jack of Elemental Trades, Stage 4]
[Attachment Skill: Elemental Manipulation]
[Unwritten Skill: Priest]
[Title Skill: N/A]
[Rasvian Control Rank: Adept]
He moved swiftly to aid those in need, his blue hair shimmering as he directed the remaining water to extinguish the last of the flames. His presence was commanding—a beacon of hope amidst the chaos.
He wore a dark gray hoodie with a front zipper—unzipped—featuring bold lettering across the chest, a black t-shirt underneath, and a pair of loose-fitting cargo pants in a matching dark shade.
"Did he just move the waters of the lake?" Leonardo muttered, genuinely bewildered. The boy's green eyes shone with determination as he tended to the survivors with precision and calmness.
Despite the devastation, a glimmer of resilience filled the air.
His manipulation of the water had turned the tide, and his composed demeanor reassured the panicked survivors.
Leonardo walked out of the once magnificent train, watching how this boy—seemingly of his own age—had emerged from nowhere and resolved everything while he had stood motionless amidst the destruction.
A voice echoed, "Does anyone have an attachment skill similar to healing?!"
Someone raised their hand. "I—I know minor healing spells. I'll need a few medicinal bottles, though."
[Story Skill: Doctor, Stage 2]
[Attachment Skill: Medicine]
Leonardo looked closer. It was a woman. She moved around, healing people using her attachment skill and potions, which only healed slight wounds—but it was still better than nothing.
Leonardo paused, pondering. Did everyone have skills? What were Elara and Anna's? He put his palm on his face, feeling a wave of realization.
How dumb could I have been? If only they'd gone to the Stem instead of the Mansion—everything would've been better planned.
He began walking toward where he'd left Elara and Anna. He saw them in the distance—unconscious.
He took a step, then another. The world grew dizzy. His mind began to spin. The savior noticed Leonardo's aimless gait as he stumbled.
"Hey? Are you alright?" he shouted.
"Yeah, I'm—" Leonardo tried to reply but collapsed, the flames having taken their toll on his body.
The searing pain, the exhaustion, and the emotional strain overwhelmed him.
"Stay with me," the boy said, his voice firm yet gentle.
He placed his hands over Leonardo's burns, channeling the coolness of the water to provide relief.
Leonardo's vision blurred. Darkness crept in from the edges of his sight.
Through the haze, he could still make out the determined look in Marquis's brown eyes—a steady gaze that sharply contrasted the chaos around them.
Yet, amid the devastation, a strange sense of camaraderie and purpose began to form in his mind.
As his consciousness faded, he clung to the thought of Marquis—a figure of resolve and leadership. Someone he might follow through this tumultuous journey.
The world faded to black. The sounds of the crumbling star and panicked cries receded, replaced by muffled tones of conversation.
"Oh damn, he's down," someone muttered—a mix of frustration and resignation in their voice.
The boy turned to the doctor, who was working diligently to tend the injured. "Miss, could you come here for a bit?" he called out, gesturing toward Leonardo's prone form.
The doctor, a middle-aged woman with an air of practiced calm, approached. Her healing potions had stabilized many, but Leonardo's condition was far more severe. The boy glanced at Elara and Anna, unconscious, their dresses scorched and torn. He looked at Leonardo with a detached expression.
"Is this who you picked as your guide?" he asked, his tone flat and dismissive. "They'll be dead before they see the first wonder," he added with a sigh.
"Seems the 'de Meaux' won't last long," he muttered, voice tinged with disdain.
With a final, scornful look at the fallen trio, he began walking toward the distant Mortimers mansion.
He gestured in the air, and a mysterious figure materialized before him. The cloaked figure, draped in dark green robes, seemed to merge with the shadows.
"The quest given by the Sage is an elimination quest," Marquis said, his voice carrying a note of grim determination.
"Most families will be eliminated swiftly. In honor of the House of de Lorraine, I will lead ahead of this."
The cloaked figure nodded in acknowledgment but then abruptly halted.
"Take the de meaux daughters and their guide," he ordered.
"Yes, Seigneur," the figure replied, the title dripping with formal respect.
Marquis's face hardened at the address. "Don't call me that," he said flatly, irritation clear in his tone.
He watched as the cloaked figure moved toward Elara and Anna. With a roughness that suggested little regard for their well-being, the figure lifted them with mechanical precision.
Leonardo, whose body was still convulsing from the residual effects of the flames, was more difficult to handle.
The doctor had managed to stabilize him somewhat, but his condition remained precarious.
The figure approached, lifting Leonardo with effort. The sight of his trembling body contrasted sharply with the figure's calm demeanor.
"What's wrong with that one?" he asked, gesturing at Leonardo with a flick of his hand. His curiosity held a trace of annoyance.
"I have no clue, Seigneur," the cloaked figure responded dryly, tone devoid of empathy.
Outside the Mortimers mansion, Uncle Richard had silently observed the chaos.
His eyes followed the scene with a mix of resignation and concern. As the trio approached, the elderly man's face displayed an expression of embarrassed discomfort.
"Ah, Marquis," Richard said, his voice carrying a tone of strained familiarity.
"Uncle," Marquis responded, his tone flat and devoid of warmth.
Richard's attempt to speak further was cut off.
"You're a sorry old man," Marquis said coldly, staring him down.
Standing at 5'11", Marquis was slightly taller than Elara. His imposing presence dwarfed Richard's frail figure.
"Get inside," Marquis continued, his command sharp and unyielding. There was no room for argument. Richard, though clearly uncomfortable, nodded and turned toward the mansion.
Marquis and his entourage followed, the injured trio carried along as they made their way inside.
Inside the mansion, the contrast between the opulent surroundings and the grim reality outside was stark.
Once a symbol of the Mortimers' grandeur, the house now felt like a mausoleum—haunted by the weight of unfolding events. Marquis, with his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, watched as the cloaked figure carried Elara, Anna, and Leonardo inside.
The sense of urgency and foreboding seemed to hang in the air—as if the mansion itself was holding its breath.