Dumping The Ice King His Mini-Tyrant novel Chapter 424

Dames turned to look at his assistant, the man responsible for watching over him.

The assistant clutched his head in both hands, staring in horror at the part of the auditorium that had collapsed.

Suddenly, Dames felt a tug at his jacket. Looking down, he saw Dames pulling at him.

Dames’ cheeks were flushed and streaked with tears and snot, his whole face damp and miserable.

“Is Mommy… is she going to die in there?”

He asked his assistant again, voice trembling.

The assistant jolted as if he’d been shocked. “I—I don’t know!”

He’d scouted the auditorium more than once, but how was he supposed to know the upper floors were so badly maintained? He’d set the fire, and the roof burned through so much faster than he’d imagined.

“This can’t be happening,” he muttered to himself. He’d checked the building reports—fireproof materials, top of the line. That was why he’d chosen to start the fire up there in the first place.

His plan had been simple: once the flammable material was gone, the fire would burn itself out, leaving the rest of the auditorium intact.

But now, a chilling possibility dawned on him.

The reports must have been forged. Someone had pocketed the budget for fireproof materials, but used cheap substitutes instead.

It made twisted sense. Charteris Academy, the most prestigious private school in Capital City, had a generous construction budget. That was exactly the kind of place where someone could skim off the top.

As the realization sank in, the assistant’s face went ghostly pale, sweat matting his hair to his forehead.

*

Inside the burning auditorium—

Selene worked desperately, twisting a hairpin against the knot. At last, it loosened.

“Uh—uh!”

Altair tried to speak, but no sound came. Panic rose in his chest; he wanted Selene to get out. When he’d woken up in the cabinet earlier, he had no idea what had happened.

It wasn’t until Selene opened the door that he realized—the auditorium was on fire.

Selene’s shirt was wrapped around his face, filtering out some of the choking smoke.

He could see Selene was holding her breath, her face turning red from strain.

Tears streamed endlessly from Altair’s eyes.

He tried to calm himself, to form words for Selene.

But nothing coherent left his throat.

“Go!” he croaked, voice hoarse and broken, as if his throat had been slashed.

His lips moved, but he couldn’t say what he really wanted: Leave me. Save yourself.

It’s okay.

Even if I die here, it’s okay.

He was only five, but frighteningly precocious, with an intellect far beyond his years.

Above, Selene suddenly heard a crackling, splintering noise overhead.

Something was collapsing above them.

Her hands were bleeding, sticky blood making it impossible to grip the pin anymore.

Ignoring the pain, she yanked the rope free and pulled Altair from the cabinet.

The moment Altair fell into her arms, two hearts—one small, one big—came crashing down from a height, landing together.

She lifted Altair and stood, but suddenly her vision blurred.

Selene realized she couldn’t see where she was going. Each breath was agony.

She tried to push forward, but darkness swallowed what little light was left in her eyes.

She crumpled backward…

Just as she lost consciousness, a tall figure burst through the door.

*

Outside the auditorium, Harrison paced anxiously, his expression tight with worry as he watched the firefighters battle the flames.

His men surrounded Dames: one handed the boy water, another fanned him gently.

Dames took a sip, and his assistant quickly put an oxygen mask to his face, asking with concern, “Master Dames, are you feeling better?”

Dames turned away, staring at the burning wreckage of the auditorium. “Why aren’t Mommy and Altair out yet? What if they really die in there?”