“Lady Narcissa, everything’s been taken care of,” Ragnar reported. Narcissa nodded, her gaze sweeping across the blood-soaked estate. Her eyes held no compassion, only disgust.
“Burn it. Burn it all to the ground. I don’t want a single stone left standing.” The guards moved immediately, splashing gasoline that they had prepared throughout the estate. Once the torches dropped, flames roared to life, devouring the wooden structures, furniture, and the bodies of the innocent.
Fire lit up the sky as thick smoke billowed upward. The Weston estate, once an impressive property, groaned and crackled as the inferno consumed it, reducing everything to ash.
“Let’s go,” Narcissa said. She took one last look at the burning scene before leading her guards away and disappearing into the night.
Shortly after they left, a streak of blue light descended from the sky and landed in front of the blazing Weston estate.
Octavius gazed at the carnage before him.
He could sense the lingering traces of Narcissa and her party in the air, along with the thick stench of blood and vengeful energy that permeated everything. His expression darkened at the sight.
“Monstrous! Absolutely monstrous!”
Shock and anger flashed across his face. He hadn’t expected Narcissa to go this far. She had completely disregarded his warning and wiped out an entire family.
Octavius stood outside the inferno, watching the flames reach toward the sky. He let out a long sigh, his eyes filled with conflicting emotions-anger, helplessness, and a trace of regret that was hard to detect. He’d underestimated Narcissa’s cruelty. Just to satisfy a petty grudge, she’d annihilated an entire mortal family.
He suddenly realized he might have aided a tyrant’s evil deeds, bringing unnecessary karma upon himself.
Octavius shook his head and sighed in resignation. He left with a sweep of his robes.
The next morning arrived. After a night of meditation to stabilize her injuries, Blanche’s condition had somewhat improved. She left the temporary cave shelter with Snowy, then planned to go to Oakvale to gather information and search for medicinal herbs that might aid her recovery.
As she approached the outskirts of the city, an uneasy feeling crept over her. The air carried a burnt smell mixed with something deeply unsettling.
Following her instincts, she made her way to the neighborhood where she’d visited the Weston estate yesterday. What she saw hit her like a lightning bolt, and her blood seemed to freeze in her veins.
Where the Weston estate had stood, only charred ruins remained, wisps of smoke still rising from the wreckage. Broken walls, scattered debris, twisted blackened beams reaching toward the sky like accusing fingers.
A few objects that hadn’t been completely consumed by fire were barely recognizable, reduced to carbon husks.
The entire area was cordoned off with official barriers. Several guards patrolled the perimeter, speaking in low voices, their faces showing a mixture of fear and grim concern.
In the distance, townspeople gathered in small clusters, pointing and whispering. Fragments of their conversations drifted over.
“It’s terrible. The whole household, with dozens of people, and not one managed to escape.”
“What a tragedy. Who could they have crossed to deserve this?”
“They’re saying it was a fire, but what kind of fire burns that fiercely? Not a single survivor.”
Blanche stood frozen in place. Snowy seemed to sense something, too, pressing anxiously against her legs with soft whimpers. She walked slowly toward the ruins, ignoring the police cordon. An officer moved to stop her, but her bone-chilling presence made him hesitate and fall back.
Stepping into the wreckage, her boots crunched over hot ash and debris. Though her divine sense was still limited by her injuries and couldn’t extend far, her close-range perception was clear enough.
Blanche saw charred bone fragments embedded in the scorched earth and caught the scent of blood and death that even intense flames couldn’t fully mask. Countless echoes of terror, agony, and despair stabbed at her senses like frozen needles.
This wasn’t an accidental fire but a massacre, a complete extermination. They’d been slaughtered first, then burned to destroy the evidence. But who did it? The answer hit her almost instantly-Narcissa.
Yesterday, Blanche wounded Narcissa here and saved the Weston family. Then, Octavius had intervened and forced Narcissa to retreat. In just one day, the entire Weston family had been slaughtered, and their estate burned to the ground.
Who else could have done something like this but that merciless, vengeful Narcissa? Every act was a warning to Blanche, a ruthless display of her fury.
“It happens because of me…” Blanche muttered, her voice carrying a tremor she couldn’t quite hide. A fire flared in her cold, clear eyes for the first time. A fury that was both chilling and searing, capable of freezing a soul and scorching everything around it.
She could see it in her mind that those innocent people were crying out in despair, running, and then cut down without mercy.
Yesterday, she had stepped in to stop the violence and save lives. But the outcome was devastating. Her intervention had led to the Westons being completely wiped out.
Narcissa didn’t dare confront her directly, so she turned her hatred on innocent people instead. It wasn’t her fault. Still, the weight of their deaths pressed heavily on her chest. Snowy nuzzled her hand and tried to comfort Blanche.
She looked down and gently stroked the fox’s head.
Her eyes hardened. She spoke slowly, her voice calm but icy. “Narcissa… The Jornells of Amethysius… You treat human lives like toys, slaughtering the innocent to satisfy your rage. The world will not forgive such cruelty. If I don’t avenge them, I shouldn’t call myself human.”
