Harem System In A fantasy World

A crazed smile, hidden from those below by the angle of his face, slowly spread across Dawncrest’s features.

"This manor belongs to him, does it not?" he whispered.

Under the confused gazes of everyone present, Dawncrest raised his hands and began casting a spell.

Mana surged violently around him, and flames began to gather overhead, twisting into a growing sphere of fire.

At first, it was only about the size of someone’s head, but it quickly dwarfed Dawncrest himself, quickly becoming the size of a small house.

The massive fireball continued to expand, burning so brightly that from the ground, it seemed to dwarf the sun itself.

Its violent red light bathed the upper district, casting menacing shadows and distorted silhouettes across the nearby buildings, objects, and gathered crowd.

Gale’s mouth fell open as he gazed at this shocking scene. The Duke could not be intending to do what he thought he was about to do.

Could he?

He was not the only one who had that thought. Several people slowly backed away, and the closest spectators stopped whispering and stared upward in horror.

Gale took another step back.

The manor’s garden and courtyard were wide, placing the building a considerable distance from the gates, but what if he was unlucky?

What if debris or burning shrapnel reached him?

What if the force of the explosion was greater than the Duke expected?

Before Gale properly understood his own actions, he had already turned and started running in the opposite direction.

His massive belly jiggled wildly as he fled as quickly as his legs could carry him. He barely made it several meters before stumbling and tumbling painfully onto the road.

"Oooof!"

Several of his people, who had followed after realizing what was about to happen, hurriedly pulled him back to his feet.

And before everyone else fully understood why they were fleeing, panic began spreading through the crowd.

People turned and ran. It was at that moment that many of them finally realized the truth.

Duke Dawncrest was no protector!

Right now, he was merely an enraged noble who had been humiliated after being given the slip by an ordinary young man, not once, but twice now.

"Ruuuun!"

The scream tore through the district, and the crowd immediately scattered in every direction.

Minor nobles raised hurried barriers around themselves while their guards dragged them away.

The warriors closest to the manor retreated as fast as possible, no longer waiting for orders as Dawncrest swung his arm forward.

Several beads of sweat had formed across his brow.

The spell had consumed a considerable amount of his mana, but he wanted the manor burned to cinders, so he had held nothing back.

Slowly, the massive flaming sphere began descending.

The air beneath it distorted from the heat.

The gardens caught fire before the spell even reached them. Stone blackened and windows shattered from the heat and pressure.

The roofs of nearby buildings began to smoke amid the unbearable heat.

At that same moment, Maximus arrived at the scene, holding his staff in his hand, even though he had no need of it.

The elderly man floated in the distance, accompanied by a small entourage of high-ranking academy professors who had come after hearing about the spectacle, the familiar faces of Halbrecht and George among them.

The moment Maximus saw the enormous fireball descending toward the upper district, his wizened eyes opened wide with shock.

’Dawncrest has gone mad!’

The professors behind him were equally horrified.

"Principal!"

"There are still people nearby!"

"Is he trying to destroy the entire district!?"

Before any of them could interfere, the colossal fireball, spanning at least 50 meters in radius, crashed into the manor.

Boom!

A deafening, cacophonous explosion tore through the upper district.

The manor vanished beneath the flames.

Stone, wood, glass, and metal were swallowed by the violent inferno, the tall structure collapsing and disintegrating in seconds.

The force of the blast sent a tremor through the flying island itself.

People screamed as the ground shook beneath their feet.

The shockwave spread in every direction, throwing those who had failed to get far enough away painfully onto the street.

A violent rush of burning wind followed.

Dust, fragments of stone, shattered wood, and glowing embers were blasted high into the sky.

Protective barriers flickered into existence throughout the crowd, many cracking immediately beneath the force of the explosion.

Gale was thrown forward violently despite the distance he had covered, crashing onto the road with several of his guards falling around him as well.

Windows shattered across the surrounding estates. Garden walls collapsed, and trees bent violently beneath the pressure before catching fire.

For several long moments, nothing could be heard except the roar of flames and the ringing left behind in everyone’s ears.

When the dust finally began to thin, there was no manor left, only a blazing crater.

Duke Dawncrest floated above the destruction, breathing heavily as smoke and embers swirled around his figure.

He stared down at the ruins with a twisted expression of satisfaction.

If he could not capture Elion today, then he would at least make certain the boy had nothing to return to.

However, the crowd below no longer looked at him with admiration. They looked at him with fear.

In his anger, Dawncrest had completely forgotten the narrative he had been trying to build before.

Then again, why should he continue wasting his efforts trying to convince the masses that his intentions were noble when his reputation was being tarnished in equal measure by every failed attempt to capture Elion?

The truly important figures, those he considered his equals, had never viewed him as noble in the first place.

They knew what kind of man he was, and they understood how power worked.

They knew that justice, duty, and protection were often nothing more than convenient words used by nobles to disguise ambition, vengeance, and greed from the common populace.

So what was the point of maintaining the farce when his targets were so openly mocking him?

Elion had humiliated his son, escaped his grasp, and returned to Grimholt without fear, taken Gale’s daughter in broad daylight, and disappeared again before Dawncrest could even react.

And now, after Dawncrest had gathered an entire armed unit and summoned half the city to witness his triumph, the boy had once again left him with nothing but an empty manor.

The whispers below had felt like laughter. The uncertain gazes of the crowd had felt like judgment.

Every second he stood there without Elion’s corpse at his feet made the Duke feel smaller.

Perhaps his anger had clouded his judgment so gravely that even he could no longer see how far he had gone.

He had not destroyed the home of a dangerous heretic after a fierce confrontation.

He had destroyed an empty manor because its owner had not been there to receive his punishment.

And now, as smoke rose from the crater and frightened civilians stared up at him, the noble image he had spent so much effort constructing was beginning to fall apart.

Dawncrest did not notice, or perhaps he noticed and no longer cared.

He floated above the flames with his chest rising and falling heavily, his eyes fixed on the burning ruins below.

Destroying the manor had felt satisfying, for just a brief moment. It had given his anger somewhere to go, but that satisfaction faded quickly.