Chapter 23 Fire

The port of Harrison should have been silent in the dead of night, but suddenly, a raging fire ignited, lighting up the quiet darkness that enshrouded the harbor. Soon after, a surging flamestorm swallowed up the buildings.

The fire brightened half of the eastern harbor, reflecting off the surrounding sea, causing the fish caught in the high tide to be illuminated through and through, their shadows scurrying in panic on the ocean floor.

Many people were awakened by this sudden brightness and the smell of burning. Fathers woke their children, wives nudged their husbands, and people quickly left their homes with their most precious possessions, oblivious to their lack of pants or their clothes being on backward, all amidst confusion and an innate fear of fire.

"Is it the lame Osenna's house?" On one side, a sharp-eyed person quickly noticed that the fire didn't cover a large area—precisely speaking, only one house was affected.

The fire looked fierce, but because it had rained just the previous afternoon, only the wooden structures inside the house had caught fire. The main beams and the roof had not collapsed yet, not to mention that the wind direction also did not favor the spread of the fire.

This made the local neighbors breathe a sigh of relief. After all, Harrison Port is a city surrounded by rivers and the sea; extinguishing a fire of this level was hardly a challenge, and people immediately prepared to fetch water to fight the flames.

"This is bad."

After ensuring their own safety, those who usually associated with Osenna remembered something critical. A burly fisherman slapped his thigh in annoyance, "The lame one is gone, so be it, but Ian and Elan, the two kids, are in there too!"

Osenna usually didn't get along well with his neighbors. He rarely socialized with others, and his dealings were not known for smoothness, and not many people cared for his safety, even those of his own race.

But Ian and Elan were different.

The two brothers shared the same mother but had different fathers. Apart from that foreign mercenary from Canaan Moore, their parents were well-regarded locals.

Ian's father was once a member of the Port Guard Squad, tasked with investigating the dens of Magical Beasts in the nearby seas, and because he often killed Magical Beasts and brought back their meat, he shared some with neighbors and relatives.

Their mother was even an uncommon literate person, reading letters and bulletins for the neighbors and had a talent for curing fish. Her fish floss during the festivals was a singular skill.

However, due to the severe storm in the Southern Sea that had not been seen in three hundred years, which occurred eight years ago, the entire Guard Squad at sea was wiped out—Ian's father among them.

Almost everyone still remembers it.

That day, dense thunder rumbled and stretched across the firmament like tree branches, with purple lightning splitting the dark sky, illuminating the churning sea below.

Ian was born amidst that storm, losing his father at the same time, while many more lost their husbands and sons.

Many houses collapsed, fishing boats capsized and sank, and the city walls on both the east and west sides crumbled into numerous breaches... Because of that abnormal storm, Harrison Port mourned en masse and has yet to fully recover its vitality.

Osenna might not be likable, but clever little Ian was different.

With this thought, a warm-hearted neighbor, also a member of the White Folks, doused himself with a bucket of water and covered his head with a damp cloth.

He wanted to approach the fire to check on the situation inside the house.

This man was Senan, the fisherman who had spoken earlier, his skin darkened from years spent working at sea, bearing no resemblance to the White Folks except for his white hair. But this dark, thick, and tough skin was like having a layer of fish scales underneath.

Senan had once been saved from a group of Reef-eater Otters by Ian's father. While Ian's father was still alive and his mother too, this kind-hearted fisherman often found excuses to drop off a fish or two.

Indeed, he was not afraid of fire, nor was he foolhardy; he had his own ulterior motives.

Senan calculated; he'd just go near the fire to see if he could help. If he couldn't, he still needed to show willingness to act. With such heroism, how could anyone not choose him as the head fisherman?

But just as this bold fisherman approached the burning house, he was shocked to see a familiar little figure moving in front of the firelight.

Ian, holding an infant with white hair in one arm and dragging a white-haired man covered in blood with the other, stumbled across the shadows cast by the fire as he stepped away from the house, which groaned as it was on the verge of collapse.

"Ian?!"

For a moment, the fisherman stood frozen, struggling to comprehend how such a scene could occur.

But soon, he snapped out of his shock. The man gritted his teeth, strode forward to Ian, lifted him along with Elan in his arms, and grabbed the evidently unconscious 'Osenna,' then quickly retreated to safety.

Senan had the strength for it; the fish he carried daily weighed more than these three people combined. As he moved back, he asked, puzzled, "What happened; how did the fire start, Osenna... and how did your uncle end up like this?"

Although it was just a brief glimpse, Senan could see that 'Osenna's' face had deep bone-exposing wounds, and his arms and body bore extremely severe cuts.

Fortunately, Ossenna was tall and burly, so although these wounds were severe, they didn't seem to be fatal for the time being.

But why did he have knife wounds?

The first thing Senan thought of was that Ossenna, the scum, might have been stabbed a few times by Ian in self-defense while he was beating him—and it also felt like Ossenna hadn't been this sturdy before, a bit on the heavy side!

However, this thought just flashed through his mind; after all, it was too far-fetched. How could an eight-year-old child have the strength to fight an adult and leave so many deep, bone-deep wounds on him?

As for Ossenna's weight… well, who knows, maybe he's the type who looks thin in clothes?

But then, Ian's response, with a hint of a sob in his voice, made Senan feel incredulous, and at the same time, it brought a great sense of unease and astonishment.

"It was, it was the Redwood Natives!"

Ian, being held in Senan's arms, was quietly sobbing and said with a stutter, "A Native sneaked in, wanting to take away my brother and me... He had smoke, but I couldn't sleep because of a headache I had, so I discovered it..."

"Uncle fought with the Native, and accidentally knocked over the brazier..."

Soon, Senan, after bringing the two brothers and the severely injured 'Ossenna' to a safe place, was roughly informed of the whole incident.

Ian explained it in a confused manner, with the sobs of a child, which made the onlookers feel sympathetic while unexpectedly conveying the key information very clearly.

After Ian repeated his narration, everyone roughly understood the summary.

——A Redwood Native had sneaked into the harbor, planning to use smoke to kidnap Ian and Elan.

Elan was naturally knocked out, but Ian couldn't sleep because of the injury on his head from a few days ago, and so he noticed something odd about the smoke.

When Ian shouted and woke up Ossenna and alarmed the Native, Ossenna, despite his limp, burst out with vigor uncommon for him and fought with the Native who tried to force away the brothers.

Ossenna was hindered by his injuries, but the house was small, and relying on his natural physique, he endured the knife wounds and, using a pitchfork along with his bare hands, strangled and stabbed those few Natives to death.

In the tumble and scuffle with the last Native, Ossenna overturned a brazier used to dehumidify the house. The brazier was usually kept in the kitchen to store sparks, but it had been placed outside to dehumidify because of moldy clothes recently.

The sparks lit the clothes, ignited the overturned, leaking algae oil lamp, and then the nearby table and floor, and the fire spread rapidly.

Then came the scene that everyone had witnessed—Ian couldn't put out the fire, so he did all he could to drag his brother and his unconscious uncle out.

"Good lad, strong and brave!"

All the details flowed smoothly and logically, leaving Senan with no doubts. He rubbed Ian's face affectionately, praising the boy for his decisiveness.

If Ian had hesitated even a moment, the three of them would have undoubtedly not made it out of the fire.

However, a sharp-eyed fisherman noticed that while speaking, Ian was tightly clutching a small pouch in his hand.

The pouch was rough and primitive in style, obviously of the Natives' design.

"...What is that?"

In the crowd of onlookers, an equally sharp-eyed herbalist also noticed this.

He roamed the forests on a daily basis, where good eyesight was of utmost importance. At first, he wasn't paying too much attention to Ian, which is why he hadn't noticed it.

But just now, he caught a faint scent of flowers, connected it with the 'sleep smoke' Ian had mentioned, and the herbalist, who was worried about the fire and had even put on his clothes inside out, suddenly had a thought: "Ian, let me have a look at that pouch."

"Eh?" Hearing this, Ian shrank back a little, fearfully, taking a half-step backward. He responded with a stutter, "But, Uncle told me to keep this safe..."

His response clearly frustrated the herbalist, who reached out his hand.

"Let me see it!"