English
Indonesia
Chinese (Simp)
Japanese
Korean
Spanish
Portuguese
French
German
ArabicArknights: The Scarlet Devil of Terra — Chapter 6
Chapter 6: A Feast of Slaughter
The children gathered around Flandre, chirping like a flock of energetic birds as they bombarded her with all sorts of questions.
Though the overlapping voices made Flandre feel a bit dizzy, she worked hard to discern the meaning behind their rapid syllables, answering them haltingly in her broken vocabulary.
“Why does Flandre speak so strangely?” one child asked, tilting his head toward Alina.
“Because little Flandre is a friend from a foreign country staying with us for a while.” Alina smiled, her voice gentle and patient. “She did not know how to speak our language at all before. I taught her the Ursus language for a few days before bringing her here to meet you.”
A look of sudden realization washed over the group. No wonder they had not seen Alina visit them these past few days. She had been busy teaching their new friend how to speak.
The expressions on the children’s faces shifted to pure awe as they looked back at the blonde girl.
“That is amazing! Sister Alina only taught her for a few days, and she can already speak so clearly.”
“Yeah, yeah!”
Facing the lively crowd, Flandre offered a bright smile and happily joined in their games.
Watching Flandre quickly hit it off with everyone from a short distance away, a trace of dark resentment flickered in a white-haired boy’s eyes. Mephisto wanted to play with the others too. But his volatile temper and habit of snapping at people had driven them away. Aside from Faust, none of the children his age were willing to associate with him anymore.
What right did that newcomer have to not only monopolize Sister Alina’s attention but also make everyone adore her instantly?
Mephisto was utterly puzzled and deeply dissatisfied.
A quiet figure stepped into his line of sight. Faust stood directly in front of him, physically blocking his view of the cheerful blonde girl.
“Mephisto…” Faust soothed in a low, steady voice, trying to anchor the boy’s spiraling emotions.
“At least I have you.” Mephisto ground his teeth together, his pale hands curling into tight fists. “As long as you are here, it is fine. I do not need any more friends.”
Across the yard, Flandre easily noticed the white-haired boy’s hostility. The glare was entirely too obvious. He lacked even the basic courtesy to hide his malice.
Flandre decided to pay him no mind whatsoever. In her eyes, Mephisto was nothing more than a pure psychopath. While she fully admitted she could be quite crazy herself when she let loose, she considered herself a perfectly normal person most of the time. And a normal person would never bother bickering with a psychopath.
Although the children remained intensely curious about Flandre’s background and begged for stories from her homeland, her current vocabulary was strictly limited to simple sentences. She simply lacked the words to weave a proper tale. Regretfully, the group turned their attention to other fascinating details.
Quite a few pairs of eyes drifted toward the colorful, crystal-like objects dangling beneath her strange bat wings.
One particularly bold child reached out and tried to pull on a bright red crystal. Flandre immediately looked over.
“These look like pretty crystals, but they are actually connected right to Flandre’s wings, you know? It hurts Flandre a lot if you pull them.”
The child’s face flushed a deep crimson. He let go instantly, stammering out a flurry of apologies. The crystals were simply too beautiful, catching the afternoon light in captivating ways. He really had not been able to control his curiosity.
Taking Flandre’s warning to heart, the others became incredibly careful. At most, they used their small hands to gently support the crystals from below, peering into the shifting colors trapped inside. No one dared to pull again.
Seeing Flandre blend in so flawlessly, Alina felt a deep wave of gratification and began organizing a new round of games. For a long time, the settlement yard rang with the clear, unbroken sound of laughter.
Late in the afternoon, the children scattered to their respective homes, excitedly babbling to their parents about their new friend Flandre. The smiles on many of the adults’ faces froze, then drained of color upon hearing the girl possessed bat wings and drank blood. Realizing she was a Blood Fiend, terrified parents quietly resolved to forbid their children from playing in the yard tomorrow.
That night, Flandre felt a deep, lingering exhaustion settling into her bones after returning to her room.
She was, after all, only a four-hundred-and-ninety-five-year-old underage Blood Fiend. Entertaining a horde of energetic human children was vastly more mentally draining than engaging in a high-speed danmaku battle with that Hakurei Shrine Maiden.
Just as she lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling in a comfortable daze, the wooden door creaked open.
“Flandre, are you still awake?”
Hearing the heavy tone, Flandre opened her eyes. Talulah’s face appeared in the dim light of the room. The Draco leader looked deeply conflicted. It had clearly taken a massive amount of resolve for her to seek out the young Blood Fiend’s help.
“You remember the Peter father and son you rescued before, right?” Talulah asked, her voice tight.
Flandre nodded from her pillow.
“Their rescue operation failed again today. Buldrokkas’tee is currently leading the Shieldguards to draw away the main bulk of the pursuers. But the enemy has put out word that they will execute all the Infected they captured tomorrow at noon. It is a public display meant to deter our Infected compatriots hiding in this sector.”
Talulah took a slow breath, her amber eyes locking onto Flandre. “Many of our people are trapped in there, including Peter and his son. I know you possess terrifying strength, and you have the ability to fly. I need you to take me to the front lines and assist me in rescuing those Infected.”
Talulah fell silent, looking at the girl with heavy expectation.
Flandre sat up and nodded. “Sure. Just like Flandre said before, as payment for living here and to keep Alina from being sad for everyone, Flandre is willing to help you with this.”
She tossed aside her blanket and climbed out of bed, her bare feet hitting the floorboards.
“Do you need to prepare anything?” Talulah asked, glancing at the girl’s simple sleepwear.
Flandre shook her head, her blonde twin-tails swaying. “No. Flandre can leave anytime, as long as you are ready.”
Talulah rested a hand on the hilt of the long blade at her waist. “Then let us set off now.”
Stepping out into the cool night air, Flandre reached her small hand out toward the tall Draco.
“Hold Flandre’s hand tight, and be careful not to fall!”
Talulah gripped the girl’s slender wrist, and Flandre secured her own grip in return. With a casual, almost weightless tap of her feet against the dirt, the ground shattered beneath them. The two of them shot into the night sky like a fired artillery shell.
Fighting against the rushing wind, Talulah raised her free hand and pointed toward the distant industrial sector. “That way.”
Carrying the Draco leader, Flandre tore through the clouds, rapidly leaving the quiet settlement behind under the pale light of the twin moons.
Down below, standing in the shadow of a doorway, Alina watched the sky where they had vanished. She pressed her hands over her chest, closing her eyes to pray. ‘You must come back safely, everyone.’
Guided by Talulah’s directions, the pair soon descended into the desolate outskirts of a massive factory zone.
Talulah crouched behind a rusted outcropping of metal, nodding toward the sprawling, heavily guarded buildings in the distance.
“This is the place. All the people they captured are locked inside that central factory building. There are about five squads stationed inside, roughly fifty members of the Ursus Patrol. This time, the Ursus Patrol and the local city garrison teamed up to trap us. Fortunately, Patriot and the Shieldguards have already pinned down the garrison forces in another sector, so our only opponents tonight are the patrol members left guarding this facility.”
Talulah outlined the tactical situation one final time, ensuring Flandre understood the stakes.
“So, just like we agreed on the way here, Flandre will save everyone.” Flandre tilted her head, a slightly crazed, wide smile creeping onto her delicate face. “As for those Ursus Patrol guys… if they do anything to interfere, Flandre does not have to leave any alive, right?”
It was not that she possessed a mindless addiction to slaughter. But if there was a perfectly compliant, rule-abiding opportunity to break things, she had absolutely no intention of holding back her nature.
Talulah paused, a chill running down her spine at the sheer emptiness in the girl’s crimson eyes. She gave a heavy, definitive nod. “To ensure the safe evacuation of the Infected, if the enemy shows any resistance, you may deal with them exactly as you wish.”
“Give Flandre ten minutes.” Flandre calculated the size of the sprawling factory compound. “In ten minutes, you come straight in to pick up the people.”
“Do you not need me to go in with you?” Talulah asked, her brow furrowing in concern.
“No need. Flandre’s fighting style is a bit rough. It would be bad if Flandre accidentally caught you in the mess. Get ready to time Flandre. Flandre is going in.”
Before Talulah could even raise a hand to stop her, the space where the girl had been standing warped. Flandre turned into a blinding streak of crimson light, tearing straight through the air toward the towering observation post overlooking the factory yard.
Inside the compound, the Ursus guards were heavily armed, fully expecting a desperate, reckless frontal assault from the Infected trying to rescue their kin.
Instead, the massive observation tower above them—equipped with heavy military-grade spotlights—suddenly detonated in a deafening shower of twisted steel and shattered glass.
Communication with the snipers inside the tower was instantly severed into dead static.
“Enemy attack!” a guard screamed into the courtyard.
Assault rifles were raised, safeties clicked off, and flashlights swept the perimeter. But after the initial catastrophic explosion, the compound plunged into an eerie, suffocating silence. The guards frantically scanned the shadows, finding absolutely no trace of an invading force.
“What is going on? What is the situation outside?”
The furious voice of the commanding officer, who had been dozing in the central monitoring room, crackled over the local radio network.
“Reporting, sir! The watchtower just exploded!” a panicked voice replied.
“Huh? What the hell are you talking about?”
The officer shoved his chair back and marched toward the bank of security monitors. He stared at the screens. The feed from the watchtower was pure static. On the adjacent cameras angled toward the tower’s position, he saw only a jagged stump of smoking debris where the reinforced structure had stood seconds ago.
“What is happening out there? Where is the enemy? Where are they attacking from!” he barked into his radio, absolute disbelief coloring his tone.
“I don’t know, I didn’t see anything— Ah!”
Before the reporting guard could finish his sentence, a sickening, wet tearing sound echoed over the comms, followed by a shrill, inhuman scream. Then, dead silence.
“Hello? Hello! Dammit, what on earth just happened! Have Squads Two and Three converge on the main entrance. Kill whoever comes through those doors!” the officer roared, slamming his fist against the console.
Only the quiet hiss of static answered him.
A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He wondered wildly if the entire garrison had abandoned their posts, or if they had all somehow died in the span of thirty seconds.
Behind him, the heavy steel door of the monitoring room slowly creaked open.
“Flandre found~ you!”
The officer spun around, his hand dropping to his sidearm. His pupils shrank to pinpricks.
A little girl, no older than ten, stood framed in the doorway. Her delicate face, her small mouth, and her entire dress were drenched in a thick, nauseating coat of fresh blood.
But what shattered the officer’s sanity completely were her hands. She was casually clutching two violently pulsing human hearts, the severed arteries still dripping onto the floor grates.
As his eyes tracked upward and registered the jagged, crystal-laden bat wings twitching on her back, the officer’s military discipline completely collapsed.
“A Blood Fiend! Dammit, why is there a Blood Fiend in Ursus!” He backed away, his legs hitting the edge of the console. “Please, do not kill me. I will give you money! I have lots and lots of money… please…”
Before the final syllable left his trembling lips, a hollow, freezing ache bloomed in his chest.
He looked down. A massive, gaping hole had been punched straight through his heavy armor and ribcage. The space where his heart should have been furiously beating was entirely empty.
As his vision rapidly darkened and his knees gave out, he looked up one last time. He watched the little girl unhinge her jaw slightly and swallow the heart that belonged to him in a single, wet gulp.
“Tastes good.” Flandre wiped her chin with the back of her wrist. “As a reward, Flandre will leave your body intact.”
She turned her gaze toward the remaining technicians cowering in the corners of the room. Her lips curled into a sickeningly sweet, radiant smile.
“Let’s eat!”
A few minutes later, Flandre strolled out of the monitoring room, humming a cheerful little tune while sucking the remaining blood from her fingers.
She glanced up at the large analog clock on the factory wall.
“Less than ten minutes. It seems Flandre is still quite strong!”
Turning her head, she spotted the shattered doorway of an employee restroom. A cracked mirror above the sinks reflected her current state. She walked over, leaning over the basin to inspect her blood-soaked reflection.
“What, Flandre thought you would refuse. So enemies can be killed and eaten, but friends cannot? Flandre’s standards are really low!”
Cupping her stained cheeks in her hands, her crimson eyes flared with an intense, manic light.
From the shadows of the corridor behind her, three exact copies of Flandre walked into the bathroom. The four girls stepped toward each other, their forms blurring and overlapping until they merged smoothly back into a single body. The chaotic, predatory glow in her eyes slowly dimmed back to a placid calm.
The dress that had been drenched in gore just a moment ago was now perfectly clean, leaving only a few stray smears of blood on her face and the corners of her mouth.
Flandre looked at her newly rational self in the cracked mirror, offered a polite, sweet smile, and clapped her small hands together lightly in front of her chest.
“Thanks for the meal.”
After turning on the tap and giving her face a simple wash with the cold water, she skipped merrily out into the courtyard, heading straight for the main gate.
She arrived just in time to see Talulah rapidly approaching through the darkness with a dozen armed figures. These were the elite scouts under the Draco’s direct command. It was their painstaking intelligence gathering that had allowed Talulah to locate this black site in the first place. To avoid detection, they had been scattered in the surrounding ruins, only converging on Talulah’s position after receiving the signal to assemble.
“How is it?” Talulah asked, her hand resting cautiously on her blade as she surveyed the dead silence of the compound.
“Unless there is a rat with incredibly good luck hiding in the walls, there should not be any resistance left inside.” Flandre tilted her head, pressing a clean finger to her lips with a bright, innocent chirp.
Talulah swallowed hard, nodding once. She pointed her blade toward the massive doors of the central holding facility.
“Everyone follow me. Go rescue the people, quickly.”
Watching Talulah and the scouts rush into the building, Flandre leaned comfortably against the iron bars of the main gate, swinging her legs as she waited for them to emerge.
Roughly ten minutes later, a steady stream of ragged figures began pouring out of the factory doors.
Many of the Infected were battered and bruised, but those capable of walking had avoided critical injuries. The few who had been severely beaten during interrogations were carefully carried out on makeshift stretchers fashioned from steel pipes and uniform jackets.
As the survivors filed through the main gate, the way they looked at the blonde girl humming a tune and swaying her head was incredibly complicated.
Every single one of them knew their lives had just been saved by this tiny child. Logically, they owed her an immeasurable debt of gratitude. But on their way out of the cell blocks, they had been forced to step over the remains of the Ursus Patrol.
Most of the corpses wore expressions of absolute, mind-shattering terror. And every single one of them was missing their heart.
Where did all those hearts go?
Recalling the terrifying legends of the Blood Fiends, many of the rescued Infected shuddered violently, averting their eyes as they scurried past her. They could not afford to think about it. They absolutely should not think about it.
Soon, Talulah walked out of the facility, the heavy tension finally leaving her shoulders.
Flandre looked up at her brightly. “How is it? No one missed, Flandre hopes!”
Talulah nodded. From the moment she had chosen to unleash Flandre’s power, she had mentally prepared herself for a bloodbath. Truthfully, the sight of the Ursus Patrol members merely missing their hearts was vastly cleaner than the apocalyptic collateral damage she had feared.
“Indeed, no one was missed. And Flandre, you killed them with such overwhelming speed that they did not even have time to deploy the heavy weapons and riot equipment they had prepared. Because of that, there is a massive stockpile of intact gear still sitting in their armory. It is more than enough to make up for the supplies our movement lost during the recent purges.”
A rare, genuine smile broke through Talulah’s usual stoic expression.
She turned to face the crowd of rescued Infected waiting in the shadows of the yard.
“We have to evacuate immediately. We must be gone before the main Ursus army realizes this sector has gone dark.”
Moving with practiced efficiency, the able-bodied carried the wounded, and the scouts hauled crates of captured Ursus weaponry. In less than half an hour, the hundreds of survivors had stripped the factory completely bare, leaving behind nothing but an empty concrete shell and the heartless corpses of the Ursus Patrol.
“Thank you,” Talulah said softly, looking down at the blonde girl walking quietly beside her as they disappeared into the night.