Crowne and Ronan ran through the dark garden. Their breaths were ragged, footsteps pounding against the cobblestone path. Behind them, the large warehouse looked calm from the outside, though faint red light flickered through the gaps in the wooden boards.
"Hurry, Ronan. Don't look back!" Crowne shouted, laughing lightly.
Ronan kept running, though he occasionally glanced over his shoulder with a pale face. "Young master, if they find out it was us…"
Crowne only smiled broadly. "They won't know. That fire will remain a secret between us and this night." He stroked his chin while running, showing not a hint of fear. "Even if they do know, they won't catch us because we'll already be gone."
"You're insane."
At last, they arrived at the other side of the Valden estate. Several guards were stationed there. Without hesitation, Crowne drew his sword—something he had never once used in his seventeen years of life. Tonight would be the first time he fought.
"Don't let your guard down, or you'll be killed!" Crowne said, casting Ronan a brief glance.
Then he pulled out a mask and dashed toward the guards. He began striking them down with the sword techniques he had been practicing all this time.
Ronan also stepped forward. He had sworn loyalty to Crowne. This was the moment to prove it.
**
In the grand hall, the celebration continued in splendor. Music played without pause, nobles raised their glasses of expensive wine. Alan was the center of attention, surrounded by praise and flattery. Sorbet Valden, the Duke, sat on the main seat, his face full of authority.
Sorbet watched the children he knew. Some seemed to be building close relations with Alan, exactly what he hoped for. Such ties were important for the Valden family's future.
"I hope he can capture that girl's heart," Sorbet murmured, resting his cheek on his left hand.
But in the midst of the lively celebration, a guard rushed in. His breath was ragged, his face pale. Ignoring all the guests, he dropped to his knees before Sorbet. That alone made Sorbet frown.
"My lord! The… the food warehouse is on fire!"
The hall instantly fell silent. The music stopped. Every gaze turned to the guard. Sorbet's eyes widened. At the same time, all attention shifted to him.
"What?!" Sorbet rose from his seat, his voice echoing through the hall. "How could that happen?!"
The guard bowed his head, trembling. "We don't know, my lord. The fire had already spread when we arrived. We tried to extinguish it, but… it was too late. The flames spread too fast."
Sorbet clenched his fist. He wanted to curse, but only clicked his tongue harshly instead. Words of anger remained trapped in his throat.
Forcing himself to calm slightly, Sorbet barked, "Fools! Summon all the soldiers! Do not let the fire consume the entire warehouse! I will go as well!"
The soldiers dashed out, with Sorbet following behind. Several nobles rose from their seats, whispering nervously. Alan watched his father, his expression tense, though a faint smile lingered—he thought this might be his chance to prove himself.
A few minutes later, word arrived that the fire was finally subdued, but half the warehouse's supplies had been destroyed. Alan was a little disappointed that he hadn't been able to display his new magic. But then something far worse occurred.
Before they could catch their breath, a loud explosion shook the estate.
BOOM!
The ground trembled even inside the hall. Crystal chandeliers swayed, several guests screamed in terror. Soldiers quickly formed ranks to protect the nobles.
"What now?!" Sorbet roared.
Another soldier stumbled inside, panic clear on his face. "My lord! The small armory on the western side exploded! The fire is spreading!"
Before Sorbet could issue orders, two more explosions ripped through the estate. This time from the guest chambers and the great kitchen.
Flames became visible from the hall's windows, their light reflecting across the frightened faces of the guests. The Valden estate was under attack during the ceremony. A shocking assault, as if it were either a warning or a direct challenge.
Sorbet turned on his soldiers, his voice like a lion's roar. "Find the culprits! Extinguish every fire! Do not let the honor of the Valden family be destroyed tonight! I don't care how—catch them!"
The situation was chaos. From outside, shadowy figures hurled bottles filled with blazing liquid at the buildings. The glass shattered, spilling orange fire that devoured curtains and wooden beams.
The hall of festivities turned into a sea of screams. Nobles fled in panic, their elegant gowns and costly coats catching stray sparks.
Alan stood frozen, his face pale. "Father… who would dare do this?!"
Sorbet gave no answer. His jaw tightened, fists trembling with rage. The night that should have been the Valden family's pride… had turned into a nightmare of fire. This was no ordinary assault—it was an insult to their very name.
Sorbet clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened, his gaze sharp and seething with wrath. "I will not let the culprit escape."
**
Crowne and Ronan had escaped. Now they stood outside the Valden estate. From afar, atop a villager's rooftop, Crowne sat casually munching on a loaf of wheat bread, while Ronan remained standing, eyes scanning their surroundings nervously.
The crimson glow of the flames reflected in Crowne's eyes. His face was cold, yet his lips curled into a satisfied smile. From this distance, he could see the Valden estate burning in several places.
"That… is my gift to the Valden family," he whispered.
Ronan stared at his master, torn between horror and admiration. "Young master… you truly are…"
Crowne rose, preparing to leap down. "A farewell gift should always be delivered in grandeur."