CHAPTER 547: REBELLION 15

TL: Rui88

In the terrified eyes of Fergus, Old Warren, and the others, the fire transformed into a giant golden python and lunged straight at them.

Fergus reacted quickly. With a sharp flick of the reins and a hard kick to the horse’s belly, the steed that had been his companion for years immediately leaped up, kicking off the ground and landing eight or nine meters away from its original spot.

Old Warren was not as agile as Fergus, but fortunately for him, there was a mud puddle at his feet. At that moment, Old Warren didn’t care about the filth and stench; he rolled into the muddy water, completely submerging his body.

The others around them had neither Fergus’s skill nor Old Warren’s luck. They bore the full brunt of the fiery python’s kiss. The two men who were directly hit were instantly transformed into two balls of fire. They didn’t even struggle for a few moments before falling to the ground, letting the burning flames consume their remains.

As for the other few, their clothes were set ablaze. Primal fear made them scream and shout. Some panicked, only flailing their limbs. Others were more astute and immediately lay on the ground, rolling around, trying to extinguish the flames on their bodies.

Fergus watched the miserable state of his men and secretly thought to himself how lucky he was. But his heart soon tensed up again and was immediately plunged into great terror.

The huge beam of fire that had rushed towards them did not disappear after one strike. Instead, it scattered like a flower, turning into streams of fire that shot out in all directions.

Those fine streams, like arrows made of fire, shot towards the grass, the bushes, the tree trunks, and the canopies.

Soon, as far as their eyes could see, dense flames began to appear, and then they burned bigger and bigger.

This was much faster than when they had set fire to the dense forest around the lord’s camp!

Without needing orders from their masters, the warriors and servants of the various families scattered in the forest immediately started running wildly…in the directions they each believed to be correct. Some, in their great terror, even forgot their companions.

“Giddy-up!”

Fergus flicked the reins and then whipped his horse’s rump hard. The warhorse under him lifted its four hooves and, with a whoosh, shot towards the riverbank, away from the fire. The animal’s instinctive fear of fire also made the beast use all its strength as if its life depended on it.

“Fergus!”

Old Warren, who had climbed out of the mud pit, saw that his ally had abandoned him and was only concerned with his own escape. He shouted resentfully in the direction of Fergus’s departure.

“Someone!”

“Someone, quick!”

Old Warren saw the ever-growing fire around him, and a sense of fear filled his brain to the brim.

“Jini!”

“Sain!”

“Where the hell is everyone? Get me a horse, quick.”

He shouted desperately, calling for his family’s servants. But no one answered him; only the crackling sound of the burning flames grew louder and louder.

The once dignified Lord Warren was now in a sorry state. His entire body was covered in filthy mud. The robe made of the finest silk was completely unrecognizable. He looked like a monster that had crawled out of a mud pit, the kind of monster that adults used in stories to scare disobedient children.

After shouting an unknown number of times, Old Warren finally gave up hope of someone coming to save him. He looked around, trying to discern the direction to find the nearby river. However, he was now surrounded by raging fires, and it was impossible to tell east from west, north from south.

Helpless, he picked a direction he guessed was right and began to walk that way with heavy steps. They were heavy steps because the mud on Old Warren’s body was rapidly drying under the heat that had gathered around him.

However, before he had taken more than a few steps, Old Warren was blocked by a wall of scorching flames. The rolling heatwave forced him back. He had no doubt that if he continued forward, he would be quickly baked into a pottery figurine.

“Damn it!”

Lord Warren screamed in despair, fiercely clawing at the solidified mud on his body. But his feet did not stop moving; he went in another direction.

However, no matter which direction he went, he was forced back by the raging flames.

“Ah…! Ah…! Why? Why?”

Lord Warren completely broke down, shouting and crying with tears streaming down his face. The surrounding flames closed in on him, and the choking smoke began to enter his nostrils. Even if he wasn’t burned to death, he would be suffocated by this thick smoke.

He ran back to the mud pit without a second thought and jumped in with a plop, like a toad.

Warren lay half-prone in the mud pit, his head sticking out just enough for his nostrils to be exposed. However, he knew that this shallow pit could not protect him. The surrounding fire was getting closer and closer, and the thick smoke from the fire was making him lose consciousness.

‘My son, Burgan!’

‘You must succeed!’

‘You must avenge your father and brother!’

‘I curse you! Grayman!’

‘I curse you! Grayman.’

With endless hatred, he closed his eyes, awaiting the final judgment.

…

“Phew! That was close!” Fergus looked back at the forest behind him with lingering fear. It was now completely engulfed in raging flames.

At this moment, Fergus was on his mount, standing in the shallow water at the edge of the river. There was an open space between the river and the burning dense forest.

The fire should not be able to spread to where he was.

He opened his eyes wide and looked at the people around him who had also escaped from the forest. They were from various families. Everyone was gasping for breath. It seemed that the escape just now had exhausted them.

“Lord Warren!”

Fergus shouted around, but no one answered.

‘He didn’t make it out?’ Fergus thought. It seemed Lord Warren was most likely dead.

He gave up the search for Old Warren and turned to look at the opposite bank of the river. It was also burning with a raging fire.

‘What a pity,’ Fergus thought. ‘Lord Paul Grayman, even if you had wings today, you would not be able to escape this place.’

Looking at the fire on the opposite bank, besides fear, Fergus’s heart was also filled with disbelief. What was that long flame that had crossed the river to attack them? Under normal circumstances, such an abnormal phenomenon would never occur.

Could it be that the current Count Grayman was really the devil’s incarnation in the human world? Or was Count Grayman possessed by the devil?

In the past, when he called Paul a devil’s incarnation, it was just a figure of speech. But after experiencing the events just now, he became more and more convinced that what he was doing was right. Besides an evil devil, who else could control such powerful flames? Therefore, getting rid of him was an act of absolute justice.