The Escape!

The ancient incantation reverberated through the hall, and the boss's gaze locked onto a solitary spark of fire emerging from a hole in the opposite wall.

In an instant, the room was engulfed in flames.

"No!" the boss yelled in alarm as he scrambled to his feet, attempting to escape. However, his efforts were in vain as the ignited Fireoil had swiftly spread, consuming the spark and racing across the floor, climbing up the walls.

"Fool!" he cried out fruitlessly, making a desperate dash for the door. His movements were sluggish compared to the rapidly advancing flames, which ultimately overtook him, engulfing the room entirely.

In the adjacent room, Azrael and the other two quickly rose to their feet. "Let's go."

They swung the door open and dashed out into the corridor. The flames from the ignited room were now roaring, their fiery tendrils extending out into the hallway.

"Fire! Fire!" Illeron yelled as he pounded on the doors of other rooms while making their escape. Kaitlynn echoed his actions, alerting anyone still within the inn.

As they hurried down the hallway, Azrael's mind was tangled in contemplation. He questioned whether he would have taken the initiative to warn the others about the flames if he were alone. Would he have acted to save them or not? It was a query he knew he could never answer definitively, yet a sense of guilt gnawed at him.

Illeron and Kaitlynn trailed behind Azrael as the echoes of the roaring fire reverberated down the corridor.

"Was there no other way?" Illeron's voice held a tinge of sadness, his concern for the inn's owner evident. "What happens to him once the flames consume his establishment?"

Walking in silence behind Azrael, Kaitlynn was awash with guilt. She believed that all of this chaos was a result of her presence. She glanced at the young man leading the way, his back exuding strength and determination. It seemed as if the turmoil hadn't shaken him.

"If he's alive, then sure, I'll make it right," Azrael replied, his gaze fixed ahead.

Illeron and Kaitlynn exchanged incredulous glances. "What do you mean 'if he's alive?'" Illeron's agitation was palpable, the bard growing increasingly frustrated with Azrael's seemingly casual responses.

However, Azrael remained tight-lipped, knowing that soon enough they would understand his meaning.

Upon reaching the ground floor, both the girl and the bard were overcome with nausea, their stomachs churning at the gruesome sight before them.

The room was a grotesque tableau of red and black, with chunks of meat scattered across the floor amidst a pool of blood. There was not a single spot that remained untouched by the horrifying display.

Eyes, tongues, genitalia, limbs, toes, fingers—everything lay scattered around the room. The horrifying scene seemed to suggest a sadistic enjoyment in mutilating these unfortunate individuals.

Unlike Azrael, the other two were overwhelmed with both tears and vomit. The sight alone was enough to induce revulsion, but coupled with the putrid smell, it was almost unbearable. The stench was of a kind that one could never grow accustomed to.

Kaitlynn's tears flowed uncontrollably; it was her first encounter with such a gruesome sight. Illeron, on the other hand, was trapped in a state of shock, unable to fully comprehend the horrific scene before him.

"Let's go, it's not safe here," Azrael comforted his companions, patting their backs gently and urging them to move on.

There was nothing more he could do to comfort them. And if there was, there was no need for that.

The trio remained silent during their escape, the gravity of the situation leaving them speechless. They ran until they found refuge under a large tree, keeping a safe distance from the horrifying scene unfolding at the inn. From their vantage point, they could see the flames consuming the building.

In the distance, villagers had been alerted to the fire and were working tirelessly to extinguish the inferno.

Villagers rushed to the scene with buckets of water, desperately attempting to douse the flames engulfing the building. Amidst the chaos, the inn's occupants who had managed to escape were visibly shaken, some vomiting and crying as they were led to safety by the villagers.

Under the tree, the trio remained silent, each grappling with their own thoughts and emotions. Illeron and Kaitlynn struggled to process the gruesome scene they had witnessed, while Azrael was lost in contemplation.

"I'm sorry," Kaitlynn's voice quivered, her anguish apparent. She bore the weight of responsibility, knowing that this gruesome scene was a consequence of her actions.

Azrael's response was devoid of accusation. "It's not your fault."

"But it is," she persisted, her remorse evident. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't followed you, if I hadn't forced you to help me."

His gaze remained distant, but his voice held a reassuring edge. "Still not your fault. I could have left you in the forest."

A tearful silence hung in the air, punctuated by Kaitlynn's sobbing confession. "And if you did that, the inn wouldn't have burned."

"We should have escaped earlier, not waited for them," the bard lamented, swiping at his teary eyes. His hands quivered as he stared at the raging flames.

Azrael's response was calm, tinged with practicality. "Like I said, they probably had a lookout—"

"It was a mere guess!" Illeron's voice cracked as he interrupted. "How could you be so sure there was someone watching? You couldn't. You didn't know. It was all just a guess."

The bard's frustration was palpable, his emotions laid bare. Azrael's reply carried a measured understanding. "And you believe that escaping earlier would have spared them? Even if there was no lookout, I'm certain they would have pursued us, just as they did now. They would have carried out the same gruesome act, regardless of our actions. It was inevitable."

Azrael's words cut through, offering a harsh dose of reality to Illeron, who had yet to experience the brutal unpredictability of the world.

Illeron was just a bard from a noble family, not a warrior like his siblings or peers.

But Azrael couldn't help shout back at him because he was tired of people telling him it was all his fault.

Illeron fell silent, lost in contemplation over Azrael's words. After a moment, his voice wavered as he managed to speak up.

"I... I apologize." He hunched over, his hands resting on his knees, tears tracing down his cheeks. "It was my first time witnessing something so horrific. I'm truly sorry. If you hadn't been here, we would likely be dead by now."

Azrael offered a reassuring gesture, his hand finding its place on the bard's shoulder. "No need to apologize. You possess a kind heart, Illeron. However, the world isn't always as gentle as your melodies. Stay cautious."