The problem was that she should not have been there.
It was not his fault that she was there. He had made it explicitly clear that he was not to be disturbed. But because Gerritt was incompetent, the Dark Acolyte now lost favor with the girl.
Everything he did to get her to join the Dark Crusaders was now ruined because of that. He had already told some of his higher ups in the Infernalis that Melas was going to be under his tutelage, which would’ve elevated his position more. But now, they would think he was a fool.
Victor had to deal with that. Somehow. Someway. He would have to get Melas to see things from his perspective. After all, what he was doing was not wrong.
It was vengeance. A noble goal. One that was worth pursuing in life.
That Captain was probably a slaver. This was the Free Lands, after all. And even if she wasn’t one, she enforced rules that protected slavery. It was prevalent here, right? And if it wasn’t, she definitely subscribed to the belief that magic was evil. If a spellcaster were being persecuted in front of her, Victor was certain she would simply let it happen. So Melas should be grateful to him for exacting justice against her.
The Captain deserved this. They deserved this. And more than that, if he was allowed to feel pleasure in doing good, then was that not better?
Victor was not to blame. He knew that, despite Melas’s chagrin. He just had to get her to see it his way. That was what he thought when he went to sleep.
But when he woke up, his mood only worsened.
There was… a fire?
Yes. The smell of smoke, soot, and ash came into his room. That should not have been unusual— they were burning the bodies of the dead. But this felt different. It felt like… magic.
Magical flames roared in the distance, and Victor could sense it. Fire ran ablaze, and was continuously being fed by someone’s magic. It burned more than it should have burnt. Bigger than it should have been.
And the Dark Acolyte could feel it only growing larger. Because it was not a natural fire, but one started and exacerbated by magic. And still, this should not have been much of a problem.
However, where it came from— now that was a problem.
Victor ran out of his room, out into the courtyard of Fort Conon. He saw Goblins streaming out of the large stone structure too, confused by what they were sensing and smelling, with eyes widening at what they were seeing.
A fire raged at one of the buildings. It was not the main body of the fortress. That was not flammable as it was made of stone and brick. Instead, the dungeon was completely engulfed in flames.
The Dark Acolyte stared. His brows snapped together, shock written all over his face. Then it slowly changed, morphing into that of anger at the realization of what happened.
"Gerritt. Where is Melas?!"
Victor stormed past the Goblins surrounding the Commander. He shoved aside a disbelieving Karna, and shouted.
"The Fiend’s daughter, where is she?" He pointed at the burning building. "And what happened? Who did this?!"
Gerritt straightened, and faced the young man. "She’s not here. I—" The Orc hesitated, but eventually continued. "I have not seen her. But I got reports. From the guards at the prison."
"What did they say? Hurry up and tell me!" Victor nearly screamed.
"It was… Melas." There were a few gasps, and Karna’s head snapped up. But Victor did not look surprised.
"They said she came in, and threatened them," Gerrit said. "Chased them out, taking the keys to free the prisoners— all of them." He emphasized the last part.
Karna spoke up uncertainly. "She wouldn’t do that. Melas wouldn’t betray us—"
Victor interrupted him. "Where is she now? She couldn’t have gotten far."
"We don’t think she left with the prisoners. I think… she’s in there," Gerritt said. Then he faced the young man. "The prisoners have a head start, and I’m not sure if we can get all of them back. If they— what are you doing?"
Victor ignored Gerritt. He was already walking away. Towards the fire. Towards the burning building. Towards Melas.
"Victor," the Orc called out. "With all due respect, I think there are other things we should focus on. If we don’t stop all the prisoners from escaping, we’ll be compromised and forced to leave in a few days. We should either take what we can and return to our camp before Ihsan and the others—"
"Be silent," the Dark Acolyte snapped. "Leave me. Go and return to the camp and wait for me— that’s an order."
Gerritt paused. He frowned, narrowing his eyes. "...affirmative. But, what are you going to do?"
"She betrayed us," Victor said simply, his calm voice hiding his intense fury. "Look at what she has done. That Fiend’s daughter. It’s as you said, she ruined everything. And now you ask me what I’m going to do? Isn’t it obvious?"
Victor stopped only to look at Gerritt for a moment. He opened his mouth and spoke one word.
"Vengeance."
Then he stepped into the raging flames.
Victor came, wading through the fire. It was not hard— he specialized in fire magic, even if he were still a generalist. He raised his staff, and the flames kept back. Almost as if the blazing inferno itself were afraid of him.
But he was not afraid of her. He saw the child standing in the middle of the burning room. The black haired girl was waiting. Her silver eyes flickered up at him.
"Victor," she spoke softly. And yet, it was clearly audible despite the roaring fire in the background. "We need to—"
She was cut off as the fire danced. Then it snapped at her. Almost as if it were some kind of a
