Flame Fire Brigade (2)
When Darian came sprinting onto the scene, the first thing that hit him was the staggering heat.
The two-story building was already being devoured from the ground floor up by a ferocious blaze, as if the jaws of hell itself had yawned open from below and meant to swallow the whole structure in a single gulp.
"The flames are insane!"
"Damn it, what do we do?"
"Fire! Fire!"
People stood rooted in place, stamping their feet in helpless frustration, unable to even approach the building through the searing heat and with no idea what to do.
"What the hell are you all just standing around staring for?!"
A man's shout cut through the chaos and snapped every head toward him.
"You! Where's the nearest well around here?"
"W-what?"
"Snap out of it! Shut up and answer me!"
"Th-there's a well just a few paces from here, but—"
"Good! You—find every container you can that holds water, and do it fast. You! Get to that well right now and start drawing water nonstop! The rest of you, form a line from here to the well! Pass the water down as fast as you can and start putting this fire out!"
"Uh, uh… right!"
"There's a trough we use for feeding the livestock nearby!"
"Like this? Is this how we line up?"
The sudden fire had thrown everyone into confusion, but the moment someone started pointing at people one by one and telling them exactly what to do, the dazed crowd moved on pure reflex.
"Shit… this is bad."
Having brought some order to the chaos, Darian muttered under his breath as he stared at the burning building.
This was a fantasy world, after all, and most buildings in the territory were built of wood—cheaper and easier to work with than iron, marble, or concrete. That meant fire tore through them with far less restraint than anything in the modern world. Fail to contain it early, and the entire district would go up and be reduced to ash.
"Whose house is that?"
"Er… who are you, lad?"
"Does that matter right now? Just answer me!"
"Ah… ahem. Well… nothing special, just a family home. It's a two-story house, been used as one for ages. Milton's family lives there now, I believe."
Then—
"AAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!"
"Hey! Get a hold of yourself!"
"Calm down!"
A scream so raw it sounded like a throat being torn to shreds made Darian whip his head around.
A woman with bloodshot eyes was thrashing as if she meant to hurl herself straight into the burning building, and the people around her were barely managing to hold her back.
"Mila! Mila!!! My baby is still in the house!!! Let me go!!! Mila!!!!!!!!"
"…There's still a child inside?"
"Oh, heavens."
"No wonder Lirin's carrying on like that."
"Ah well, what can you do? Once the fire's out, we can at least try to comfort her…"
From the way they spoke, she was clearly the woman who lived in that burning house. At the news that a child was still inside, the onlookers only shook their heads and clicked their tongues in pity—none of them looked ready to actually go in after the kid.
And who could blame them? Against a fire like this, they were utterly powerless. They weren't mages who could blast water like a cannon to smother the flames, and not a single person here had a body that would walk out of that inferno intact. All they could do was pour well water as best they could and hope the damage stayed small. In this age, that was common sense. That was the best anyone could manage.
But there was one person here who refused to accept that common sense.
Smack—
"Hah?!"
"What in the—?! What do you think you're doing, man?!"
"Are you crazy? What are you—"
Darian had already closed the distance to the hysterical woman and given her thrashing cheek a light slap, snapping her head to the side. The people trying to calm her recoiled in shock and started shouting at him—but he only looked at her and cut straight to the point.
"Pull yourself together. We don't have time. Tell me the rough layout of the house and where the child is most likely to be."
"…Ah."
"…Th-the second floor! Mila will be on the second floor! Whenever we leave the house, she always spends time alone up there…"
"Good. How many rooms on the second floor?"
"Th-three. Mila usually plays in the storage room at the far end—the one farthest from the stairs. She treats it like her secret base."
"Second floor… three rooms… farthest corner… Got it."
The light slap had brought the woman back to her senses. She rattled off the house's interior layout and the child's likely location in a rush that was still somehow steady, and Darian listened in silence, murmuring it back to himself to lock it in.
Then he turned on his heel and started moving.
"I'll bring her back. Wait here."
That one last shout, and he was already sprinting.
"Don't know whose this is, but I'm borrowing it!"
Mid-run, Darian snatched up a hefty axe that looked like it was meant for splitting firewood. He tore strips from his own clothes, fashioned them into rags, dunked them in a water-filled scoop from the well, and soaked them through.
"…Breaking in through the first floor is going to be rough. It's a wooden building, and an old one at that—the stairs might not take my weight. If they give out, I'm done."
"So the only option left is going in through the second floor… A ladder!! Is there a ladder anywhere nearby?!"
"Well… there is a ladder, but it was leaning against this building's wall, so it's on fire right now!"
"Fuck."
First-floor entry was effectively impossible, and the path to the second floor wasn't looking any smoother. The axe handle in Darian's grip creaked under the pressure of his hand—and then he made his decision.
"Out of the way, out of the way!!!"
"Kyaa?!"
"W-where is he going…?!"
He spun and charged straight into the building next door to the burning one. Shoving past startled residents, he bolted up to the second floor, found the room closest to the fire, and wrenched the window open.
"This is our best shot."
Staring at the crimson inferno raging right in front of him, Darian grinned—as if everything he'd been studying from the ground had just paid off.
There was a small balcony-like ledge jutting from the second-floor window, and it hadn't caught fire yet. The only way into the building right now was to jump from the neighboring house, land on that ledge, and go in from there.
But the landing space was tiny, the gap was nothing to sneeze at, and without any safety gear, a bad leap would just mean throwing himself into the flames.
"Hoo…. hoo…"
He had run into countless fires in his life, and every single time, Darian had been afraid. Afraid those flames would eat him alive. Afraid that this time, he would be the one who ended up like his honest, hardworking colleagues.
His heart hammered like mad. His fingertips started to tremble.
"Well, still—I've got to do it. Who else is going to…?!"
But Darian burned that fear into a brilliant, laughing fire of his own—and then he flung himself into open air.
"Whoa?!"
"He jumped!!"
"Kyaaa!!"
Gasps, awe, and screams rose from the people watching below as Darian threw his body into the void. That brief glide felt endless, as if hours were stretching out in midair.
But the return to reality was brutally fast. The instant the soles of his feet touched the balcony—
Crrrack—
"…?!"
The tiny landing point finally gave under Darian's weight and shattered.
"Hah…! Hah…! Fuck, that was close."
Luckily, the same moment his feet hit the ledge, his free left hand had shot out and caught the window frame. He hung there dangling, just barely keeping himself from falling.
"Hoo… Going in!"
He hauled himself up with sharp, efficient movements and slipped through the window into the second floor, ready to begin the rescue in earnest.
"Ugh…! The fire's already spread this far?"
The moment he was inside, Darian tied the water-soaked rag over his mouth like a mask, axe in hand, and dropped into a low crouch as he muttered to himself. The blaze that had started on the first floor was already slowly swallowing the second, belching out choking smoke.
"When I get home, I really need to thank Gordon for this."
Advancing carefully through a fire scene where he could barely see a hand in front of his face, Darian murmured in quiet admiration at the durability of the hood wrapped around him. The black hood covering his face and body seemed to have solid heat resistance as well—it was letting him move freely even in this blistering heat.
"…Yeah. Skipping the first floor was the right call."
Stepping out of the room he'd entered and into the second-floor hallway, Darian saw the staircase connecting the floors completely wreathed in roaring flame—and muttered under his breath.
But there was no time to congratulate himself on his instincts. He had only just gotten inside. The rescue operation in this nightmare of a fire had barely even begun.