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ArabicArknights: The Scarlet Devil of Terra — Chapter 50
Chapter 50: Building the Training Room
Flandre tilted her head, her crimson eyes locking onto the Lupo beside her. Texas paused, her expression unreadable beneath her usual stoic facade. After a fleeting second of hesitation, the Lupo reached into her pocket, retrieving a familiar red box. She pulled out a chocolate-coated biscuit stick and offered it forward.
“You can call me Texas,” she said, her voice flat and measured.
The group stepped through the wooden doors of the local teahouse. The warm, aromatic air washed over them, instantly followed by a chorus of surprised gasps from the patrons inside.
“Look who it is! It’s our little hero, Flandre!”
“Oh my, so this is Flandre? She’s so incredibly small.”
“Unbelievable… to think such a tiny child actually took down those grown adults.”
Flandre tilted her head, a distinct sense of déjà vu washing over her. She sifted through her vast, chaotic memories until she pinpointed a similar scenario. It was from a novel she had read once: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. The moment that boy wizard first stepped into that dingy tavern… yes, the atmosphere was exactly like this.
However, Flandre scoffed internally. The magic in that book was pitifully weak when it came to actual combat. Was that villain, Voldemort, truly supposed to be a threat? If it were her big sister, Remilia, she would have effortlessly plucked out those so-called Horcruxes, and Flandre would have crushed them into dust one by one. The characters in that story knew a dark lord was plotting, yet they buried their heads in the sand like ostriches until the bodies started piling up. Even their eventual victory was a messy, pyrrhic affair.
‘If it were Big Sister, she wouldn’t have given the enemy even a fraction of a chance to breathe,’Flandre thought, a smug little giggle escaping her lips as she waved cheerfully at the patrons.’Fiction is just fiction. They can’t compare to Big Sister or Flandre at all!’
Exusiai, watching from the sidelines, blinked in sheer astonishment. “This kid is an even bigger social butterfly than I am!” The Sankta had assumed the tiny vampire would be shy or introverted, but Flandre was effortlessly chatting up anyone who approached her.
By the time the lively round of greetings concluded, Flandre hopped into her seat. A steaming cup of hot tea already waited on the wooden table.
“You sure know your way around a crowd, little one!” Exusiai praised, leaning in with a bright grin.
“It’s nothing special,” Flandre replied, her tone breezy. “Flandre usually has nothing to do at home, so Flandre just reads books to pass the time.”
Exusiai’s halo seemed to brighten. As a proud graduate of Laterano University, she saw an opening to flex her academic muscles. “Reading to pass the time, huh? What kind of books do you usually read?”
“Recently? Flandre has been reading Analysis of Illusions: This World is Neither True Nor False,” the vampire stated matter-of-factly. “You know, even though the Witch King has been dead for decades, his insights into Originium Arts formulas were absolutely ahead of his time. Many of the conceptual spell matrices he proposed in that book have already become modern reality…”
Flandre’s crimson eyes gleamed. Since the angel wanted to talk shop, Flandre was more than happy to oblige!
For the next ten minutes, the little vampire launched into a relentless, high-speed lecture. She smoothly bounced between spell moduli, data conversion rates, and the geometric extension of Arts formulas. It sounded less like a conversation and more like an ancient, forbidden dialect.
Exusiai’s vibrant energy completely flatlined. Her eyes spun in dizzying spirals, her brain practically overheating. Deep within her soul, the Sankta was grappling with the three ultimate philosophical questions: Who am I? Where am I? Why on Terra did I bring up this topic?
Texas observed her partner’s utter defeat. Without a word, the Lupo calmly lifted her teacup and took a slow, measured sip. Exusiai loved to casually boast about her Laterano University credentials, but against a genuine scholar, she was hopelessly outmatched. Then again, their fields of expertise were vastly different. If Exusiai wanted to talk shop, she should have been discussing high-yield explosives and structural demolition with someone like W, the Sarkaz mercenary princess of the Royal Court—not debating theoretical Arts with Flandre.
After Texas gently guided the shell-shocked Exusiai away to recover, Flandre calmly picked up her black tea and took a refined sip.
“Hey, I honestly thought you were just skimming that book for the pictures. I didn’t expect you to actually understand the material,” Beatrice remarked, taking a seat nearby. She remembered glancing at that very tome and feeling as though it were written in alien hieroglyphs. Looking at the retreating, despondent Sankta, Beatrice felt a deep sense of empathy.
“Why wouldn’t Flandre understand it? That book is actually quite fascinating,” Flandre chirped, her wings twitching happily. “Big Sister Beatrice, could you help Flandre collect more books like that?” Flandre made it abundantly clear that absorbing complex magical theory brought her genuine joy.
Beatrice sighed, her empathy for the child’s genius officially evaporating. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promised with a wry smile. “By the way… that Red Mist of yours. You seemed to have it completely under your control during the fight, right?”
Beatrice recalled a recent conversation with Ch’en and leaned forward.
“Yep! Is there something Big Sister Beatrice needs Flandre to help with?” Flandre nodded, her curiosity piqued.
“It’s like this,” Beatrice began, choosing her words carefully. “The L.G.D. is planning to conduct specialized training for blind fighting and night combat operations. Essentially, they want to teach the Operators how to fight effectively when their vision is severely restricted. We happened to think of your Red Mist… Could you come to the Guard Department and lend a hand? You could blanket the training area in mist, and our Operators could run drills inside.”
Beatrice couldn’t hide her hesitation. Prolonged use of Originium Arts usually caused a Caster’s physical condition to deteriorate, accelerating Oripathy infection. She wasn’t entirely sure if Flandre’s tiny body could handle the strain.
“That’s super simple! This spell barely consumes any energy for Flandre,” the vampire declared, dismissing the concern with a wave of her small hand. “Just call Flandre when you’re ready.”
“Alright then. I still need to coordinate the logistics with the department. I’ll give you a call once everything is finalized!” Relieved by the child’s easy agreement, Beatrice let her worries fade.
After a leisurely stroll through the bustling streets of Lungmen, Flandre and Beatrice returned home in high spirits. This casual outing had proven a crucial point: with the implicit backing of the L.G.D., Flandre could roam the city without issue.
Over the following days, Flandre frequently wandered the commercial districts alone. While pedestrians still cast subconscious glances at the bizarre, crystal-adorned wings sprouting from her back, the underlying fear was gone. Occasionally, the warm-hearted aunties running the nearby storefronts would beckon her over, pressing sweet pastries and snacks into her hands. Flandre never turned down a free treat, always responding with a polite, beaming thank you.
Soon enough, Beatrice returned with excellent news. The L.G.D. had officially greenlit the training initiative and prepped the facility for their first session.
Flandre was escorted to a sprawling, indoor training base. The personnel were already geared up, the observing referees donning specialized infrared goggles designed to pierce through thick obscurants.
With a casual, sweeping wave of Flandre’s hand, a dense, crimson fog violently erupted, swallowing the designated combat zone in an impenetrable sea of Red Mist.
Ch’en, standing near the perimeter, took two steps into the scarlet haze before immediately backing out, coughing lightly. “Uh, Flandre? Could we perhaps lower the concentration of this mist just a bit?” the Senior Superintendent asked, her tone diplomatic. “Situations where an Operator is rendered completely blind are incredibly rare. Normally, we’d want to simulate visibility of about one meter.”
It was a training exercise, after all. A battlefield where a person couldn’t even see their own hands was a bit too demanding for a standard drill.
“Okay!” Flandre made a delicate, swiping motion through the air. Instantly, the oppressive thickness of the Red Mist thinned out, leaving a hazy but navigable crimson veil.
Ch’en stepped back into the zone, pacing around to confirm the visibility parameters. Satisfied, she emerged and shot Flandre a bright thumbs-up. “Excellent work. Little Flandre is so smart!”
Ch’en then turned her sharp gaze to the assembled tactical squad. “Alright. Let’s run a preliminary test according to the syllabus.”
The squad leader barked an order, leading his heavily armored Operators into the scarlet fog. Half an hour later, they emerged, panting and covered in simulated combat chalk.
“It’s incredibly effective, Madam Ch’en. This training program holds immense tactical value,” the squad leader reported, wiping sweat from his brow. “A visibility limit of one meter perfectly tests an Operator’s reaction speed and spatial awareness.”
He paused, glancing at the tiny vampire. “However, the only logistical hurdle is that Miss Flandre needs to actively maintain this spell. If she isn’t available, our training schedule grinds to a halt.”
“Actually, if you want, Flandre can just make the spell permanent here!” Flandre piped up, raising her hand high.
“Permanent?” Ch’en echoed, her brows knitting together in surprise.
“Yep! You just need to connect the spell model to a piece of Originium to act as a battery, and then set the operational parameters,” Flandre explained cheerfully. “It’ll create a localized mist zone that you can turn on and off with a switch. When the Originium’s energy runs dry, you just swap it out for a new one.”
During her downtime, Flandre had been voraciously studying the properties of Terra’s Originium. While she hadn’t practically applied the theories yet, she was confident it was child’s play.
Despite their skepticism, the L.G.D. technicians followed her precise instructions, carefully carving and arranging complex spell runes across the training floor.
Once the complex array was linked, Flandre watched as an Operator in a heavy hazardous-materials suit slotted a small shard of Originium into the central energy node she had designed.
Click.
The moment the circuit closed, the spell roared to life. A torrential wave of Red Mist exploded outward, bypassing the training zone entirely and violently flooding almost the entire floor of the L.G.D. building.
“Oops!” Flandre stood in the middle of the blinding scarlet fog, playfully slapping her forehead. “Flandre forgot to restrict the range! Turn it off first, Flandre needs to tweak it!”
She had completely forgotten to integrate the containment runes into the matrix. The technicians scrambled to cut the power, and the mist slowly dissipated. Thankfully, this was a highly secure, restricted wing of the Guard Department; aside from cleared personnel, no civilians were caught in the crimson tide.
As Flandre knelt down to re-engrave the containment borders, a few curious officers wandered over, drawn by the sudden, localized weather anomaly spilling out of the blast doors.
“What just happened?” one of them asked, eyeing the lingering red wisps.
“Little Flandre is anchoring her Red Mist Arts to the facility,” Ch’en explained, crossing her arms with a fond sigh. “This way, we can run the simulation whenever we need without calling her in. She just missed a containment parameter on the first try, which is why the mist tried to swallow the hallway.”
“Wait, so we can run these blind-combat drills autonomously from now on?” the officer asked, eyes widening.
“You can even adjust the density!” Flandre’s bright voice echoed from across the room.
While carving the new runes, the little vampire had a stroke of inspiration and decided to hardwire a variable control matrix into the array. This way, if the L.G.D. wanted to simulate different environmental hazards, they wouldn’t have to bother her for a patch update.
“How does that work?” The technicians and officers immediately crowded around her, their skepticism replaced by sheer awe.
Flandre pointed a tiny finger at a newly installed, mechanical dial connected to the Originium node. “Just turn this knob! You can adjust the mist from completely blinding all the way down to a light, visible haze. Easy!”