Condemned to Death (High Fantasy/ Anti-Hero)

Madam Beth sat heavily in her chair, exhaustion pressing down on her bones. The wooden frame creaked beneath her weight as she took a slow sip of tea, savoring the warmth.

"Filthy little brats," she muttered under her breath. "Always making noise, always complaining, always staring at me like lost puppies." She scowled, rubbing her temple. "Well, soon enough, they won't be my problem anymore."

A tired smirk crept onto her lips. Just a few more days, and half of them would be gone. Sold. Less mouths to feed, less noise. The orphanage would be easier to manage, and she'd finally get some peace.

And with the money she'd receive, she could finally—

BOOM!

The walls rattled. The floor shook beneath her feet. Beth jolted so hard she nearly spilled her tea.

"What in the—?!"

She rushed to her window, hands gripping the frame as she looked outside—

Her breath hitched.

House 4 was in flames.

A thick column of smoke billowed into the sky, orange light flickering wildly against the night.

The door to her bedroom slammed open. Two servants rushed inside, their faces pale, their words tumbling over each other.

"M-Madam Beth!" one stammered. "House 4 is on fire!"

"The whole storage room—!"

"It must have been the phoswood barrels! They must've ignited!"

Beth's eyes widened. Phoswood. A common material used for lamps and heating—it burns fast and explosively if exposed to direct flame.

Beth's face twisted in rage. "Then what the hell are you looking at me for?! GO SAVE THOSE DAMNED BRATS!"

"Y-Yes!"

The servants bolted down the hallway, their frantic footsteps echoing. Beth turned back toward the window, her hands curling into fists.

"Just when I was about to get paid…" she seethed through clenched teeth. "This happens?!"

<<<

Seren sat cross-legged in the attic, his crimson eyes glinting in the candlelight.

"So here's the plan," he said, his voice steady. "We will set fire to the phoswood barrels in the storage. They'll explode and set the whole house ablaze."

His friends listened in silence, their faces tense.

"We need everyone to be distracted using this," Seren continued. "Not just the keepers. The old man, too. If he focuses on the fire, he won't be watching us."

Nike shifted. "But… won't the other kids in the house get caught in the explosion?"

Seren's lips curled into a faint smile. "That won't happen."

…

"GET THE WATER! GET THE WATER, I SAID!"

Beth's shrill voice pierced through the chaos. Servants scrambled, hauling buckets from the well, desperately throwing water onto the raging flames.

Children poured out of the wrecked home, crying, coughing, their voices blending into the night.

Beth stormed toward them, waving her arms. "Calm down! Calm down, you little rats!"

More keepers from the other houses rushed in, their faces twisted in alarm.

"What happened?!" one of them barked.

Beth spun on them, furious. "What does it look like?! The damned phoswood caught fire!"

A burly keeper shoved past the others, rage burning in his eyes. His name was Gerrik, and his thick arms tensed as he grabbed Beth by the collar.

"You should've been more careful!" he roared. "How does phoswood catch fire on its own?! Because of you, that damned old man will have our heads!"

Beth snarled, shoving him away. "Get your filthy hands off me, you oaf!"

Another keeper, Mira, stepped forward. She had a sharp, calculating gaze. "Let's not start blaming each other yet. But she has a point, Gerrik. How did the fire start?"

Beth's expression darkened. Could it have been—

BOOM!

Another explosion tore through the night.

Gasps filled the air.

Every head turned in horror toward the new source of fire—House 3.

Gerrik's face drained of color. "No… my house!"

He stumbled forward, his knees hitting the ground as he stared at the raging inferno.

For a moment, everything was silent except for the roar of the flames.

Then—

"There's a traitor among us!" Beth's voice cut through the air like a knife.

Instantly, the keepers tensed. Their hands hovered near their belts, where weapons were hidden beneath their robes. Suspicion burned in their eyes as they scanned each other warily.

"Aahh! Get off me, stupid brat!"

A scream erupted from the chaos.

A servant staggered back, a young girl clamped onto his arm, biting down with all her strength. He yelled in pain, trying to shake her off. "You little—!"

With a grunt, he yanked her off and threw her to the ground.

Before he could react further, another child rushed forward. "Now's our chance!" he shouted. "We will not let ourselves be sold off!"

A roar rose from the children.

Knives glinted in the firelight—small blades, stolen from kitchens and hidden beneath ragged clothes.

Then, all at once, they ran.

Straight for the western wall.

Beth's breath caught. "W-what's happening?"

<<<

"You want to tell everyone in the house?!" Rosy hissed.

Seren sat calmly, watching as she paced. "Just the explosions won't be enough," he said smoothly. "The servants will put out the flames. We need more people on our side. The other houses, too."

Rosy stared at him, then exhaled sharply. "Fine. But if this goes wrong, I swear—"

Seren just smiled.

…

"Seren told us everything!"

A child pointed a trembling finger at one of the keepers, rage and betrayal in his tear-streaked face. "You were planning to sell us off, weren't you?!"

Accusations poured out.

"You lied to us!"

"We were never orphans to you! We were just livestock!"

The keepers stood frozen, their faces shifting between shock and guilt.

Mira stepped forward, raising her hands. "Listen, children, there must be some mistake. There's no way we would—"

"Get back to your houses!"

Her words were cut short as Gerrik yelled out in panic. He was already sprinting toward House 3.

Mira frowned. "What?"

"Before Seren tells everyone about this place, we have to catch him! Or every little thing in this place will try to escape and we won't be able to control them!"

The realization struck like a lightning bolt.

Mira cursed, abandoning her attempt to calm the children. Without another word, she bolted toward her house. The other keepers followed suit, their minds no longer on the burning buildings or the escaping children—

But on stopping Seren.

Beth just stood there, rooted to the spot.

Her face contorted with her thick makeup cracking under the firelight.

Her teeth ground together as her entire body trembled watching the running children.

'That damn brat.'

He had turned her orphanage into a warzone.

…

"Phew… finally done," Nike muttered, wiping the sweat off his forehead. The fire was set. They had five minutes before the phoswood ignited. "Before the house keepers get here," he added, standing up.

He turned and glanced behind him.

A horde of children stood in the dimly lit hallway, their faces pale but resolute. Some clutched kitchen knives, others makeshift weapons—broken chair legs, sharpened bits of metal, even rocks.

"You all ready?" Nike asked.

The kids nodded. Though fear was in their eyes, something stronger flickered beneath it. Desperation. Hope.

On the other side of the orphanage, a similar scene was unfolding.

Rosy stood at the forefront, leading the children from the other houses toward the southern wall.

<<<

"You want us to lead the other houses to escape?" Rosy asked, arms crossed.

Seren nodded. "There are four walls surrounding the orphanage. I want you and Nike to take the children from the other houses and head toward the northern and southern walls. The children from our house will go to the western wall."

Nike frowned. "Wouldn't it be better to stick together? If we rush one side all at once, we might have a chance."

Seren shook his head. "Numbers don't matter. At the end of the day, we're still just kids. The old man is a Lexarch. He could put down a hundred children with knives like it was nothing."

Silence settled over the attic.

Samir swallowed hard. "S-So… you're saying one side will be a… distraction?"

No one spoke.

Seren didn't have to answer. The truth was clear.

One group would have to buy time for the others to escape.

Rosy took a deep breath, forcing a small, hopeful smile. "Then whoever makes it out can get help, right? There have to be good adults out there, people who'll listen. If one of us can escape, they can bring back help and free the rest!"

Nike and Samir didn't look convinced.

Seren's eyes narrowed slightly. They were close—they just needed one last push.

"This was an impossible battle from the start," he said. "If we don't make sacrifices, none of us will escape."

Nike and Samir looked at him, their eyes filled with hesitation.

"But!" Seren's voice grew louder. His crimson eyes gleamed in the candlelight.

"If even one of us makes it out… then they become the hope of everyone inside!"

A single survivor could change everything. A single survivor could turn the tables.

Rosy clenched her fists. "You're right."

Nike exhaled sharply, nodding. "Damn it. Fine. Let's do this."

Samir's lips trembled, but he forced himself to nod too.

Their hearts had been steeled.

Then, suddenly, Samir turned to Seren. "...What about you?"

Seren smiled. "I'll be going with you."

Samir blinked. "W-Where?"

"To the most protected place in the orphanage. The eastern wall."

…

Samir's hands trembled slightly as he watched the chaos unfold.

Servants and guards near the eastern wall rushed about, shouting orders, dragging barrels of water, scrambling to contain the fires. Their shadows danced wildly under the glow of the flames.

Samir swallowed hard. "S-Seren, maybe this isn't such a good idea. The eastern wall has more guards than anywhere else! How do we even—?"

"Just trust me," Seren cut in smoothly. "And follow my lead."

A group of guards rushed past them.

The moment the hallway was clear, Seren grabbed Samir's wrist. "Now."

They sprinted.

"W-Wahhh! Where are we going?!" Samir cried out. Unlike Nike and Rosy, he wasn't confident. He wasn't fearless.

Seren didn't answer. His eyes darted frantically along the halls, scanning their surroundings. There has to be something—

Then, at the end of a corridor, he saw it.

A door.

Without hesitation, Seren bolted toward it. He pressed his ear against the wood, listening intently.

Samir panted beside him. "Seren, what are we—"

"Shhh." Seren raised a hand, silencing him.

From the other side of the door—

Footsteps.

Heavy, approaching footsteps.

Seren's heart pounded. 'Damn it!'

Without thinking, he grabbed Samir's arm and clamped a hand over his mouth, yanking him close. He pressed their backs against the wall, holding his breath.

Click.

The door swung open.

A man walked out, grumbling under his breath. "Damn brats… running around making trouble…"

Samir's eyes widened in pure terror.

The man was only inches away.

Samir's breath hitched, but he didn't make a sound.

The man passed them without a second glance, his annoyed muttering fading into the distance.

The moment he was gone, Seren exhaled slowly, releasing Samir.

Samir stumbled back, sucking in a deep breath. "I-I thought we were dead!"

"Save your panic for later," Seren said coolly. "We don't have much time."

They slipped inside the room.

It was dimly lit, cluttered with bookshelves, a wooden desk, and an old wardrobe. A set of keys gleamed on the wall—but not the ones they needed.

Seren immediately started rummaging through the desk drawers. "Look for the keys to the eastern wall gate. Before that man comes back."

"O-Okay!"

Samir ran across the room, frantically searching through every cabinet, every shelf. His hands trembled, but he kept moving.

Time was running out.

…

"Surround those kids! Don't let a single one of them get away!"

Gerrik's voice boomed across the burning courtyard, his thick arms swinging as he pointed frantically at the fleeing children. "And you—get more water! Or do your legs not work?!"

Servants scrambled, buckets sloshing as they fought the flames. Others rushed after the children, their shouts mixing with the crackling of the fire.

Gerrik gritted his teeth, watching House 3 crumble in the heat.

"What is going on?"

Suddenly a voice came from behind Gerrik. The voice was low, controlled—but carried an unmistakable weight of authority.

Gerrik stiffened. His breath caught as he turned—

And his stomach dropped.

The old man was walking toward him.

His steps were slow but his expression was unlike anything Gerrik had ever seen. The usual warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by a void of cold fury. The fire reflected in his gaze, making him look almost inhuman.

He stopped in front of Gerrik, staring him down.

"...Explain," the old man said, his voice sharp as a blade.

Gerrik swallowed hard. His throat felt dry. "M-Master, I—" He struggled to string together words. "It—it was Beth! She was careless! And that damn brat, Seren! I—I tried to stop—"

"Nevermind. I've heard enough."

The old man raised his palm.

Gerrik barely had time to react before a torrent of fire erupted from the old man's hand, engulfing him instantly.

Flames crawled over his skin, licking hungrily at his clothes, his flesh. A scream tore from his throat as he collapsed, writhing on the ground. "M-Master! P-Please! Have mercy!"

The old man did not.

The fire did not stop.

It poured out of his palm like an unending stream, burning Gerrik's cries into silence. Slowly, the screaming faded. The body twitched once, then stopped moving entirely.

The old man let the flames die down.

He stared at the charred corpse for a moment before turning away.

Mira was on her knees, trembling, her face pale as she bowed before him.

The old man's gaze flickered toward her. "Well?"

Mira swallowed. "S-Seren…" she whispered. "It was Seren."

The old man's expression darkened.

…

"Found it!"

Seren grinned as he lifted the key from beneath a stack of books.

Samir let out a relieved breath. "Finally." He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Now we can get out of here… the guards already left the eastern gate to chase the others."

His voice wavered slightly. Even as he spoke of escape, guilt hung in his tone. "Nike and Rosy…" He hesitated. "They're still back there."

Seren slipped the key into his pocket. "Then we'll just have to make it count," he said simply.

Then—

Footsteps.

Loud, fast, coming down the hall.

Samir tensed. "Seren—?!"

"Hide!" Seren hissed.

They darted toward the wardrobe. Samir squeezed inside, heart hammering against his ribs. Seren pulled the door shut just as the footsteps reached the room.

The man from earlier stormed in, still grumbling to himself. "Where the hell did I put it…?"

Seren and Samir held their breath.

The man collapsed into his chair, rummaging through the drawers angrily. He cursed under his breath, slamming one shut. "Damn it! where did I put my damn ring?!"

Samir flinched at the sudden outburst. His breath hitched and hands gripping the fabric of his tunic.

Then the man stood up and turned toward the wardrobe.

Seren's grip tightened around the knife in his hand.

Samir's fingers curled, nails digging into his skin as he squeezed his eyes shut.

The handle turned.

The door cracked open—

BANG!

Seren exploded out of the wardrobe, his knife flashing in the dim light.

The man stumbled back, eyes wide. "What the—?!"

Before he could react, Seren plunged the knife into his chest.

A strangled cry tore from the man's throat.

"AHHHH!"

"Not yet!" Seren yelled through gritted teeth. He dragged the blade downward, slicing through skin and muscle.

The man's screams echoed in the small room.

"AGHHHAA! STOPPPP!"

In a desperate panic, he lashed out with his foot—slamming it into Seren's stomach.

Seren flew backward, hitting the wall with a sharp grunt.

The man gasped for air, clutching his chest, his fingers shaking as he pressed against the wound. "M-my chest!—MY CHEST!—" Blood dribbled down his shirt, soaking into the clothes. "I-It won't stop…"

Seren wasted no time.

He was on the man before he could react, twisting behind him and pressing the knife to his throat.

"Don't move," Seren's voice was sharp, controlled. "Or I'll slit your throat."

The man's breath came in shallow, panicked gasps.

"S-Seren?"

Seren didn't acknowledge Samir's trembling voice. His focus was entirely on the man beneath him, his grip steady.

"Now, you're going to answer all my questions." Seren's voice was low, a dangerous edge laced it. "Or I will make sure you don't leave this room with your head attached."

The man choked on his own breath. "W-Wait—"

"Shut up!"

Seren pressed the knife deeper. A thin line of blood welled up on the man's throat.

"You better start talking," Seren said smoothly. "Or you'll die of blood loss before I even have to kill you."

The man nodded frantically. "O-Okay! Okay! Just don't kill me!"

Seren's crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light. "Good."

He tilted his head slightly. "Now—what are that old man's Lexarch abilities?"

The man stiffened.

"W-What?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

Seren's grip on the knife didn't loosen. "You heard me."

<<<

Seren leaned forward. "Samir and I will go to the eastern wall and find the keys to the gate. The keepers and guards will be too busy chasing the others to notice."

Rosy frowned. "But won't they be looking for you? You're the one behind all this."

Seren smiled. "The keepers will focus on stopping the other kids first. But the old man won't."

His crimson eyes glinted as he smirked. "He'll come straight to the eastern wall—to find me."

His smirk widened slightly. "After all, I'm his most prized possession right now."

…

"I'm going to the eastern wall," the old man said.

Mira, still trembling, looked up. "W-Wouldn't it be better to stop the other children first? They're the ones escaping—"

The old man's gaze snapped to her.

Mira froze.

A suffocating pressure filled the air.

Then, slowly, the old man spoke.

"We are receiving a large sum of money from the priest to buy Seren," he said, his tone smooth but deadly. "Enough to rebuild this orphanage ten times over."

Mira's breath caught. "T-Ten times?!"

She had known the priest was paying a fortune for Seren, but this much…?

A cold glint flickered in the old man's eyes.

"Seren will be at the eastern wall," he said.