𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 || 敵の旦那様 (𝐁𝐋) ✔ [COMPLETE]

16. A Fire That Wouldn't Cease

General Haoran took a step back and calculated his options. The mosquito bastard's death at best would get rid of an everyday major headache for him, and at worst, especially if his death were to be deemed an accident, it would spur an unprecedented war between the now-at-peace empires. His inconvenience was but a triviality when it concerned the empire.

Further, if that mosquito bastard doesn't actually have anything to do with the arsenal incident, then he would make for a good source of eyewitnesses to a possible incident or culprit. And even if he was the culprit... it didn't matter. He'd already asked his subordinates to deal with any sign of suspicion at first sight.

Hence, his death was a loss no matter how one looked at it.

And it has to be vehemently avoided.

The troops were all engaged in the activity of looking out for a potential runaway suspect. Haoran couldn't ask them to rearrange their formation and hunt Fu Lin because that would mean sacrificing a possible leeway to trapping a third party's involvement in the matter. He didn't bring an additional troop either; he'd have to work with the well-dwellers to rescue that mosquito bastard.

Actually, he kind of wished in his heart that the mosquito bastard would be somewhat burned or injured, perhaps also crippled, so that he wouldn't be able to move around and cause so much trouble—even if he didn't want him dead. His death wouldn't be excusable, but a lifetime injury would definitely be understandable—even by the Empire of Silver Mountain.

He tried navigating the whole place for a blind spot where the fire wouldn't be as invigorating and tried to break into the arsenal somehow, but to no avail. The fire had consumed every part of the place and was even looking disparagingly at the gunny bags too.

"Well-dwellers," he clapped his hands as a group of people in blue robes surrounded him and bowed down to him, saying, "The fire is not as strong in the left half of the establishment as it is in the right, so get to splashing water from there. If you witness someone who is fatally injured but alive, start medication immediately. But if what you found are the remains of a dead body, do not touch the body and leave it for bodily inspection by the troop. We can't let any evidence go to waste."

This way he could ensure that Fu Lin is somehow found if he were in the arsenal—the well-dwellers will cover the right and he would cover the left. Hence he mounted his horse, dashing through to the left partition and gazing fixedly at the roaring fire.

It wasn't as strong as the flames of the frontier but still looked rather horrendous.

General Haoran thought he could cross this mass fire to get inside—after all, he was armored in gunny bags.

Hence he dismounted the horse and walked right through the fountains of fire, gazing steadily and getting used to the heat of the flames. There were two dwellers behind him, pouring water in the areas he was venturing, and the flames receded considerably, but still his body caught fire in the places where there was no gunny bag covering. At first, when the flames burst over his body, he didn't feel any pain, but slowly a scorching numbness spread across his large palms and cheeks, a dull ache throbbing through them.

He looked at his burnt finger—the blackened edges in the pale white skin—and suddenly an ugly thought surged within him.

That mosquito bastard was unsightly enough without burn marks, and what if he ended up burning his face instead of his legs or arms?

Does that mean he would have to live with that face roaming about his manor?

The general's face turned pale. That cannot happen!

Just as he was about to order his subordinates to bring another troop of well-dwellers, a man in blue robes—evidently a well-dweller—walked into the place he was in with a horrified face.

General Haoran raised his brow, befuddled, but he signaled the man to speak anyway.

"Imperial General..." The man swallowed hesitantly, "We found something that looks like the remains of... somebody."

"Oh?" He pursed his lips as any other thought he had went down the drain. "Lead the way."

Haoran took deliberately steady steps as he walked ominously down the path the man led. The man rattled past the frontier to the right side of the partition, where a group of people stood somberly waiting, forming a circle around what looked like the silhouette of a body that was now covered in white cloth.

General Haoran's consciousness suddenly sharpened, and his ears began drumming when he saw the humanoid structure, clearly outlining a nose and lips through the cloth of reverence.

He didn't think that this bastard would actually get himself killed and jeopardize his empire in the process. His hands shook slightly as he removed the cloth.

The figure was distorted beyond recognition and was completely blackened. It was ghastly to look at, as there was not an ounce of clothing on the body left—everything was charred as if it underwent a volcanic eruption. As smoke billowed from it, a slightly rustic smell as if iron was smelt pervaded their noses.

Rustic smell? A sense of suspicion rose within the General as he got up, breathed in slowly, and kicked the blackened figure, letting it fly through the air!

As the figure landed, a heavy metallic clang echoed and continued even as it rolled on in the mud. General Haoran exhaled a sigh of relief when he heard that and palmed his face. It seems he was surrounded by more than one fool.

"Who in the world," he asked murderously, "dares to deceive this General by calling an iron mannequin a dead body?!"

The well-dwellers who heard this immediately fell to their knees, begging for forgiveness and repenting of their ignorance. General Haoran commanded them to stop wasting their time and get back to the job at hand.

Speaking of fools, he really had no idea where that mosquito bastard was. He probably didn't run away because if he did, the people of the farms, or at least the General's informants in the streets, would have immediately sent him a message. The General was also positive that the mosquito bastard simply did not have the common sense to run away when the situation required it, although he did have a talent for running away when it was absolutely not necessary.

"General," one of the well-dwellers came forward. "The fire is almost washed out, and the interior has been thoroughly examined, but there seemed to be no trace of a human being within." The well-dweller stopped himself before saying, "If I may be presumptuous, Your Grace... Can I know who it is you're looking for?"

The general was silent for a long time before saying, "A relative."

"In that case, why don't you try thinking from their perspective about where they might first run if a sudden fire were to break out in the house?"

Which place? How would this General be able to empathize with that foolish weakling to guess where he might have run off to?! But even as he thought this, an idea slowly started making its way into his brain as he hurriedly took to his feet and ran to a place where he could see the edge of the upper slab of the arsenal.

Where else would that fool run off to but the roof?

And unsurprisingly, as General Haoran peered into the place, an ugly fringe was dancing in the air hidden beneath.

**********************************************

General Haoran: Whose is that ugly fringe?? 

Me: Idk bro, probs your aunt's. 

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