Chương 193: 25.Blazing House 1

The heat hit like an invisible wall, full in the face. Following Ignicia up the stone steps of the Governor's residence, my first instinct wasn't shock—it was the body's honest desire to take one large step backward. This wasn't how a normal building burned. It was too fast, too bright, too hungry—as if someone had pumped the entire structure full of oil and ignited it from the deepest point inward. The second-floor window frames had already burned red.

Tongues of flame lashed outward in rhythmic surges, like starving beasts gnawing at the bars of their own cage. Black smoke rolled upward in dense sheets, thick enough to be almost viscous, braiding together the smells of burning timber, burning fabric, burning paper—and underneath it all, something sharper. Something chemical. Accelerant. I'm no expert. But I have a nose. The front courtyard was chaos. City watch sprinted back and forth with water buckets.

Garrison soldiers in fire-leather were using long hooks to tear down the half-collapsed awning along the outer corridor, trying to stop the spread. Someone was shouting. Someone was coughing. Someone was pouring water and cursing simultaneously. The whole scene had the coordinated effectiveness of throwing a hundred non-swimmers into the sea and telling them to queue. Ignicia didn't charge in. She stopped at the top of the stone steps, tilted her head back, and looked at the burning residence in complete silence.

In that moment I felt something sharp and clear. She wasn't watching the fire. She was reading what they'd left behind.

"Your Highness!" A soot-covered city official jogged over and dropped to one knee, nearly tripping over himself on the way down.

"The fire has reached the inner corridor and the east-wing study! We're attempting to cut off the south wing—""How many ignition points?" Ignicia asked directly. The man blinked. He clearly hadn't expected her first question to be that. Not how many dead, not can anything be saved—that.

"This—we—at least three, possibly four!" he managed.

"The rear of the front hall, the east-wing study, the warehouse corridor, and—and near the document room upstairs—all of them caught almost simultaneously!" My eye twitched. Three. Possibly four. This wasn't a fire that had gotten out of hand. This was someone who was afraid you might miss the point, so they wrote the answer on every page of the exam. Ignicia's expression didn't shift. She stepped forward twice, crouched, and ran her fingers along the edge of the stone step.

A small dark puddle sat there—heat-blackened, not yet fully dried. She lifted her fingers to her nose. Her eyes went cold.

"Tung resin, fish oil, mixed with a tree-based accelerant." She stood. Her voice was flat in a way that was somehow worse than anger.

"And it wasn't thrown randomly. It was laid along a route." I stared at the dark smear on her fingers, something dropping in my stomach. She said it like she wasn't guessing. She said it like she was confirming.

"Your Highness…" I started quietly.

"This is not an accidental fire," she said. She didn't even look at me when she said it. But every person within earshot seemed to freeze for half a beat—as if the words had physically interrupted their motion. Not accidental. Which meant from Haerdin's death on the scaffold to this, there was no chaos here at all. Just a line. Laid in advance, calculated in advance, waiting for us to step onto it. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

The harbor commander arrived at a run. The heat wave hit him first; he swore under his breath before looking up at the fire, his expression the color of someone who'd just had the entire port district's face pressed into mud and rubbed.

"They actually burned the study," he said through his teeth.

"These filthy—""Not just the study." Lei Lian came in fast from the other side, two Yinglong Guard behind her. She scanned the fire line where the second floor met the roofline, voice carrying the temperature of frost on steel.

"Document room, inner warehouse corridor, side corridor junction—the spread pattern is too consistent. This wasn't random burning. Someone was deliberately funneling people and evidence toward the same point." I glanced at her. Right. Dragon cavalry confirmation. Not just arson. Planned arson. Ignicia finally turned. The fire's hot wind caught the edge of her cloak, dark red hem almost appearing to smolder.

"Listen carefully," she said. Around her, people who had been shouting, pouring water, hauling buckets—went instinctively quieter.

"First: this is not a rescue operation. It's an investigation." Her gaze moved across the city official, the garrison soldiers, the harbor commander, Lei Lian.

"Yes, suppress the fire. But don't be so fixated on pouring water that you lose sight of what they actually want to destroy. It was never about the building."

"Second: everyone still alive inside comes out. No exceptions." Her tone dropped another degree.

"Clerks, quartermasters, couriers, gatekeepers, cooks, stable hands, servants, including whoever empties the chamber pots. Anyone who can stand, bring them. Anyone who can't, carry them. Half-dead, drag them out first and sort it later." …Very Ignicia. Not cruelty. Precision. She wasn't looking for victims. She was looking for anyone who could still open their mouth.

"Third: ledgers take priority." She continued.

"Official accounts, hidden accounts, sealed chests, stamp cases, transaction records, harbor administration logs, warehouse transfer books—especially the hidden compartment behind Haerdin's study and the sealed chest in the outer storehouse—" The harbor commander jolted.

"You know about the hidden compartment?"

"We interrogated it out of him earlier," I said, answering for her. The commander's jaw twitched—an expression somewhere between how did I not know this and that bastard deserved to die twice. Ignicia ignored his emotional processing entirely.

"Anyone who finds ledgers does not open them, does not pocket anything, does not let them leave their hands," she said.

"Seal them on the spot and bring them directly to me." Lei Lian responded immediately.

"I'll take my people into the east-wing study and document room."

"No." Ignicia glanced at her.

"Your people seal the high ground, the back alleys, the side gates. Whoever set this fire—if they're still nearby, they're more desperate to leave than we are to read paper. The documents can wait half a quarter-hour. A runner can't." Lei Lian's eyes sharpened. She bowed.

"Yes, Your Highness." That I understood completely. Fire scenes had a way of misdirecting attention. Everyone looked instinctively into the flames. The smart move was to watch who used that moment to walk out. The harbor commander had clearly caught the same point. He spun on his garrison troops:"Seal all three sides of the Governor's residence! Front gate, rear gate, side storehouse, stables, servant quarters—lock it all down!

Anyone carrying a bag, a box, a basket—or dressed too neatly for a fire—detain first, ask later!" … Dressed too neatly. Rough standard. But completely logical. In a burning building, normal people are either fighting the fire or fleeing it. Anyone who looks too composed has something to hide. Ignicia added one more line:"Watch the mouths of anyone brought out alive." I paused. She stared at the burning residence, eyes cold enough to freeze the flames.

"Haerdin already showed us the playbook," she said.

"Anyone dragged out of here who suddenly convulses, vomits blood, bites through their tongue, slams into a wall, or lunges for the fire—dislocate the jaw first. Then bind the hands." The chill ran straight down my spine. Right. Right. What we'd seen on the scaffold was proof enough: this wasn't a simple corruption network. This was a snake that ate its own tail to avoid capture.

If they could plant poison in Haerdin's mouth, then anyone inside this residence who knew too much might already be carrying their own exit.

"Cedric."

"Here."

"You're coming in with me."

"…Into the fire?" She turned and looked at me with the exact same expression she'd worn on the scaffold when I'd asked that question. The universal are you genuinely asking that face.

"What else?" she said.

"Are we going to stand outside and smell the ledgers through the wall?" …Fine. Noted. I shut my mouth. I very much wanted to point out that I was an emergency envoy of the Kingdom of Eckhaus, not a fire-scene search animal. But given that the entire building was actively on fire and her expression clearly read first person to slow me down gets burned, I decided keeping my head was the more strategic priority. Ignicia raised her hand and pointed at the smoke-choked corridor beyond the main entrance.

"East-wing study, inner warehouse corridor, Governor's private office," she said, clipping each word.

"Living witnesses first, ledgers second. If you find both in the same place—pull the person, mark the ledger's location, come back for it." She paused, letting her gaze pass over everyone present.

"If any survivor dies before I personally reach them," she said, very calmly, "whoever let that happen goes into the ground with them." The fire crackled. Even the coughing seemed to quiet by a fraction. I looked at this Dragon Kingdom princess issuing orders against a backdrop of flame, and found myself thinking that Haerdin had died too early. Because if he'd lived long enough to see this, he probably would have regretted not choosing a faster method.

Ignicia stepped onto the burning entrance colonnade without hesitation. Fire and smoke seemed to part slightly—or maybe that was just the impression she gave.

"Move," she said. So we went into the fire.