The Wind Calms the Fire - Chapter 7

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 7
Lea was born a princess of the Kingdom, yet grew up innocent of the brutal power struggles that consumed it.
After her father’s death, her brother inherited the throne in due course, and the gentle man took it upon himself to serve as her guardian.
Had nothing else occurred, she would likely have chosen a suitable husband from among the Kingdom’s nobles and spent her life as a thoughtless princess, hearing herself called by that title until the end of her days.
She had prevented a tragic catastrophe from befalling the Kingdom, but she could never return to her former self, ignorant of what had nearly come to pass.
The bright, cheerful princess Lea had died.
She had learned in a single day that the world could overturn, that one could tumble into the mire without warning.
She would carry that anxiety for the rest of her life—the knowledge that the same disaster could strike again at any moment.
If that was the price of having lived once and returned, then it was a price worth paying.
‘He must have endured his share of hardship too. Standing at the center of power, he probably doesn’t have a moment to let his guard down.’
“The reason I need the position of Imperial Prince Consort is that it’s the fastest—the only—path for someone in my current position to reach the heart of the Empire.”
To draw closer to him, she felt she needed to be a little more candid.
“I’ve heard that those from a Tributary Kingdom rank lowest in Imperial noble society.”
The Empire had no law explicitly forbidding the discrimination of nobles by rank.
But there existed customs far more terrifying than any law.
The Imperial Family possessed the Sacred Bloodline, a status no one could ever touch or claim.
Directly beneath them were the Gold Crown Nobility—traditional, established families of the Empire.
Below that came the Silver Crown Nobility, comprising the regional nobles from territories that had been absorbed into the Empire and were now almost wholly Imperially assimilated.
At the very bottom, lowest of all, were the Iron Crown Nobility, and those from the Tributary Kingdoms belonged to this rank.
Imperial noble society had a powerful tendency to cleave to its own—to intermarry within its own circles.
For Lea to leap over the invisible walls woven throughout the Empire was nearly impossible.
But to become Imperial Prince Consort was to step, in a single stroke, within the enclosure of the Sacred Bloodline.
It would grant her access to communicate with nobles of all ranks—Gold Crown, Silver Crown, and Iron Crown alike.
To check the First Imperial Prince Enok, given her current station, that singular path represented her only hope.
Lea smiled before that hope.
Even in darkness, she smiled. So how could she not smile when a road lay open before her eyes?
“I need Your Highness’s enclosure. I won’t ask for a prenuptial contract, nor do I intend to coerce you into fulfilling conjugal duties. We need only appear as husband and wife to the outside world. I’m proposing a contractual marriage.”
……
“I understand why Your Highness rejected my proposal. I’m someone who would throw herself into the very vortex you’re trying to avoid.”
Carrion had witnessed countless times those who flew toward power like moths to flame.
They all tried to conceal their desire behind a veneer of dignity, yet he had never seen anyone state their ambition so boldly, so shamelessly.
And so, for the first time, he found himself genuinely curious about another person’s desires.
“For what purpose?”
“I can’t tell you that. If you want to know, marry me.”
Carrion let out a soft laugh.
“I haven’t given up.”
This time, too, Carrion laughed aloud, a short, sharp sound.
Lea’s pupils trembled for an instant.
Born a princess and having drifted since then, she had seen handsome men beyond counting.
But Carrion’s laughter struck her with such force that admiration rose unbidden in her chest.
The King of Nortia had certainly fathered one son exceedingly, remarkably well.
‘He must have known. It’s just that he was the type who didn’t boast about such things—why wouldn’t he have known?’
“I’ll step inside now.”
‘The mood is good right now.’
Before their words grew too long and needless quarreling took root, she hurriedly rose and took her leave.
Watching her receding figure, Carrion’s hand twitched.
It was instinct.
He wanted to touch her, to make contact.
He wanted to know whether it was only his delusion, or whether there was truly something there.
But he clenched his fist and turned away.
It was not fear of disappointment that made him do so.
If there was nothing, then it would end there—but if she proved to be something special, he had no idea what he would do.
And so he chose to look away.
* * *
Carrion woke at the sound of someone knocking on his bedchamber door.
The room was completely dark, and it seemed to be close to midnight.
“Your Highness. It’s Cedric.”
When Cedric entered after knocking, Carrion sat up in bed.
“A wildfire has broken out. The situation is severe.”
Carrion quickly threw on a cloak and climbed to the Watchtower along the fortress walls that rose from the highest level of the Official Residence.
From the watchtower, the entire Military Garrison spread below in a single vista, and beyond it, the bustling heart of Poema gleamed in the distance.
Between the city and the garrison, a searing crimson conflagration tore through the darkness, spreading with terrible clarity.
Poema was a mountainous region.
And with its year-round humidity, wildfires had been virtually unheard of.
Yet this year, nearly half a season had passed without rain, and Poema hung under a weight of dread and expectation.
Since arriving at the Military Garrison in Poema, Carrion had focused his efforts on three fronts: food supply, winning the hearts of the people, and maintaining order.
But he had not accounted for the possibility of wildfire.
Decades without flame had left the dense forest lush and thick—now bone-dry, it would burn like timber left to season.
“Ring the alarm bell.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The frantic tolling echoed across the entire garrison.
Points of lamplight burst to life throughout the darkness, illuminating every corner of the compound.
Soldiers torn from sleep came stumbling out in confusion.
The Commander of the Northeast Region was legendary for his iron discipline, and the garrison under his command was always run with unwavering military precision.
It did not take long for every soldier to assemble in ordered lines.
“Send two hundred men to the eastern ridge. Bring axes! Fell the trees and establish a firebreak!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Scout cavalry—locate the fire’s point of origin. Determine whether this is a natural outbreak or arson!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Send messengers to the city. Warn them that the fire may reach the urban center. Tell them to prepare.”
“Yes, sir!”
Following the Commander’s orders, the soldiers moved with perfect coordination.
They felled the trees adjacent to the garrison and cleared stored goods from the warehouses.
They hauled water and positioned it around the compound’s perimeter, and soaked the roofs in advance against falling embers.
Carrion climbed back up to the watchtower to assess the situation.
An uncommonly fierce wind drove the wildfire to spread with frightening speed.
It was a small mercy that the wind blew away from the city, yet at this rate, the garrison would be engulfed before long.
‘Should I order everyone to evacuate rather than exhaust ourselves fighting an unstoppable inferno?’
His gaze fixed upon the flames and stilled.
He remembered: there was a small village near where the fire now raged.
That village functioned as an orphanage of sorts.
The village elder and its residents took in homeless children from criminal districts, raised them, and played a vital role in stabilizing the region’s security.
Carrion descended from the watchtower at a run, shouting as he came.
“Cedric! Take command of operations here!”
“Sir? Yes, Your Highness.”
Carrion rode out toward the village with his elite guard at his back.
The commotion roused the delegates of Zephyros as well.
“A wildfire?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Have everyone in our party gather at the front gate of the Official Residence.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Your Highness! Where are you going!”
“Don’t follow me. Do as I’ve commanded!”
Lea left her chamber and ran into the night without hesitation.
The first soldier she encountered, she seized by the arm and demanded:
“Where is the highest point in this garrison?”
“Pardon?”
“Where is the highest point!”
Startled by the force in Lea’s voice, the soldier complied without resistance.
“The, the watchtower at the top of the Official Residence…….”
No one moved to stop her as she made her way up to the watchtower.
Lea gazed upon the crimson demon of flame bearing down on the garrison.
By the wildfire’s ferocity, it was clear the window for early containment had passed.
Driven by the wind, the fire spread with terrifying speed, closing the distance moment by moment.
At this pace, the flames would engulf the garrison in little time.
“Hah…….”
She exhaled slowly, and her eyes drifted closed.
Wind rose around her.
Hair tumbled loose across her shoulders from sleep, caught now by the rising current—it lifted and scattered in the gale that coiled about her frame.
The moment her eyes opened, a brilliant ring of light flashed and vanished in her green irises.
The single spark that had birthed the demon of flame now multiplied, branching into separate forces that swelled and multiplied with mounting threat.
One of the smaller tongues of flame suddenly caught the wind and flared up violently.
The wind was blowing in the opposite direction from the wind that had been carrying the fire until now.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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