Arknights: The Scarlet Devil of Terra — Chapter 78

Chapter 78: News of Remilia

“Ms. Talulah, none of us are fools. The Reunion Movement’s excuses might deceive the ordinary refugees, but they won’t fool us.”

Anto kept his voice low, the biting tundra wind threatening to snatch his words away. He stared at the Draco leader, his expression tight with anxiety. “Moving the women and children out, assigning every able-bodied youth and soldier to dig trenches and build fortifications… If the enemy were merely an Ursus Patrol, I highly doubt Reunion would be strung this tense. So, this time we’re facing the regular Ursus army. Aren’t we?”

Talulah met his gaze with infuriating calm. The flames of the campfire reflected in her eyes, steady and unblinking. “How did you guess?”

“As I just said, Rhodes Island has experienced countless wars,” Anto replied, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of the memories. “We’ve seen families torn apart more times than I can count. We won’t interfere too much in your internal choices. But as someone responsible for my people, I have to ask—what are your actual chances of success?”

Talulah didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she raised a slender, gloved finger and pointed toward the corner of the command tent.

“The chance of success lies entirely with her. As long as she can locate and decapitate the enemy’s command structure as quickly as possible, we win this easily.”

“Huh?” Anto blinked, turning his head to follow her gesture. He stared at the little blonde girl floating lazily in the air, kicking her legs as she hummed a cheerful tune. Disbelief washed over his face.

Just her? She looked like she would burst into tears for a week if someone simply flicked her forehead. Talulah was seriously banking the survival of thousands on a child taking down an entire Ursus command center single-handedly?

“Hey! Don’t underestimate me!” Flandre caught his doubting look and immediately puffed out her cheeks. She dropped to the ground, planting her hands firmly on her hips and tilting her chin up in a proud, defiant stance that perfectly mimicked a certain ‘Strongest ⑨’ fairy back home. “Flandre is super strong!”

Anto rubbed his temples, feeling a headache building behind his eyes. “Do you… need us to help with anything?”

Although the entire premise felt utterly fantastical, this was ultimately Reunion’s own military arrangement. If their leadership was genuinely willing to bet their lives on this eccentric child dismantling a heavily fortified command center, there was no point in his delegation acting like cynical bystanders.

“After you head south, just help comfort the children and the sick,” Talulah said, offering Anto a respectful, shallow bow.

“I understand. Consider it done.” Anto nodded, turning to leave the tent.

Upon returning to the Rhodes Island delegation’s encampment, the other operators immediately crowded around Anto, demanding answers about his meeting. He relayed the grim reality: Reunion was indeed facing a catastrophic threat, which was why the non-combatants were being evacuated in advance. However, he assured them that Reunion had a definitive counter-strategy in place, and their only job was to escort the vulnerable patients to the designated safe zone.

Hearing his steady tone, the heavy anxiety suffocating the camp finally began to lift. Reunion’s frantic preparations over the past few days had been deeply unsettling, but having a clear directive eased their minds.

Back in the command tent, the atmosphere remained heavy.

“Our scouts have confirmed the movements of Count Miles. He is indeed embedded within the advancing army, personally organizing the troops pushing south.”

Buldrokkas’tee’s deep, grating voice filled the space, carrying the obvious weight of decades of warfare. The towering Wendigo pointed a massive, armored finger at the tactical map spread across the table. “Their official pretext is… a deployment to assist the Fourth Legion. Hmph. A transparent lie. The Fourth Legion’s campaign against Kazdel is taking place far beyond our borders. Marching through this territory offers them no strategic advantage for that war.”

The Patriot paused, his red eyes scanning the faces of the Reunion commanders. “The target force possesses one High-Speed Warship, acting as a mobile command hub, supported by five thousand regular soldiers and a full Armored Battalion. Fortunately, we have already destroyed all the primary roads leading east. Their heavy armor cannot traverse the broken terrain for now. We will only have to face their ground infantry.”

He let out a slow, rattling breath. “Approximately three thousand five hundred elite combatants.”

A suffocating silence fell over the tent.

The total population of the entire Reunion Movement—including the sick, the elderly, and the children—didn’t even reach three thousand five hundred. The sheer numerical disparity of the combat-ready forces was a despair-inducing reality. These were not local thugs; they were fully armed, highly trained Ursus elites. An army group of that scale would never deploy as mere infantry. They would be backed by long-range artillery units, dedicated Caster Battalions for Originium Arts bombardment, and veteran snipers.

“So, when will they arrive?” Talulah asked, her voice cutting through the gloom without a trace of panic.

“Judging by their current marching speed and the terrain obstacles,” Buldrokkas’tee rumbled, “I estimate they will reach our perimeter in exactly one week. That will mark precisely half a month since the last confirmed sighting of the Emperor’s Guard.”

With the briefing concluded, the commanders stood up, their expressions grim as they filed out into the freezing night to oversee the final preparations.

“How about Flandre just flies north and beats up the bad guys right now?”

Flandre floated upside down near the ceiling, crossing her arms. She hated feeling stifled. In her mind, when annoying things approached, the best solution was to fly over and blow them up before they got close.

“No. We cannot take the initiative this time. We must wait for them to strike our lines before we retaliate,” Talulah said, shaking her head firmly. “If we strike first, we give the Fourth Army Group the perfect justification to intervene directly. Our enemies will only multiply.”

It was a cold, calculated truth. Sending Flandre out now would force the child to bear the entire brunt of the danger alone., she wouldn’t just be fighting Count Miles; an unprovoked strike would trigger a massive suppression campaign from the united Old Nobility.

But if Reunion absorbed the first blow on their own territory, they could control the narrative. Even if the Old Nobility escalated the threat later, Reunion could simply migrate south, seeking refuge in Leithanien or Victoria. The sudden influx of thousands of refugees—many of them former Ursus military—would create a geopolitical nightmare. The resulting public outcry would force the Ursus Emperor to place strict political restrictions on the Old Nobility’s overreach. If Lungmen also made a move in the east to distract them, Reunion’s chances of slipping through the cracks and securing a permanent sanctuary would skyrocket.

Flandre pouted, blowing a stray blonde bang out of her face, but she didn’t argue further.

Late that night, the cold reality of Terra faded into the soft, shifting colors of a dream.

Flandre… Flandre, are you there?

The voice echoed through the hazy void. Flandre’s eyes snapped open.

“Sister! Flandre is here!” she cheered, her voice echoing loudly into the empty space.

Oh, thank goodness! I finally got a lock on you! Remilia’s voice came through, tight with a mixture of immense relief and frantic worry. It is ridiculously hard to pinpoint your coordinates in that place. How are you doing? Are you sleeping well? Is the food terrible? Are you hurt?

The rapid-fire interrogation made Flandre’s head spin. She grabbed her own cheeks, squishing them in distress. “Sister, Sister, wait! You’re asking way too many things at once! Flandre can’t remember them all!”

Alright, alright! Just tell me what your situation is right now! Remilia demanded.

“Mm-hmm! Well, since the last time Flandre talked to Sister…”

Flandre happily recounted her adventures. She talked about the tall buildings in Lungmen, how she thought she was going to stay there eating tasty snacks until Remilia found her, but then she got a secret message from her new friends in Reunion and dragged a whole bunch of people across the snowy wasteland.

What?! You’re going to launch a sneak attack on an enemy legion’s command center all by yourself?! Remilia’s voice spiked into a shrill, aristocratic shriek. Absolutely not! It’s far too dangerous! I forbid it!

Flandre kicked her feet aggrievedly. “But Flandre already promised! And these people are super weak anyway. Flandre thinks she can easily win!”

Thinks she can win?! Flandre Scarlet, you listen to me right now—

Remilia’s scolding was suddenly interrupted by a gentle, intellectual voice murmuring in the background.

Little Flandre, how much time has passed on your end since our last contact?

Flandre tapped her chin, thinking hard. “Um… two or three months, Flandre thinks!”

And this military action of yours takes place in seven days? Patchouli Knowledge pressed, her tone calm and analytical.

“That’s right, Patchy!”

A soft exhale of breath echoed through the dreamscape. The frantic energy radiating from the other side smoothed out instantly.

There should be enough time, Patchouli murmured to Remilia.

Remilia cleared her throat, her tone returning to its usual composed, authoritative cadence. Flandre, listen carefully. I will establish contact with you again in three days. At that exact moment, I need you to provide me with a stable set of spatial coordinates so I can cross over to your side.

Flandre scratched her head, thoroughly confused. “But… how does Flandre do that?”

You’ll know when the time comes. Remilia brushed the technicalities aside, immediately pivoting back to her primary concern. Now, tell me what you’ve been eating. Are you sleeping in a proper bed?

Flandre beamed, assuring her sister that everything was perfectly fine, that the snowy land had lots of fun things to blow up, and that she was having a wonderful time playing with her new friends.

A soft, fond chuckle drifted through the connection. That is certainly my sister, Remilia mused. Then we shall see each other in seven days. Remember, Flandre, keep this an absolute secret. Do not tell anyone else.

“Okay, okay! Flandre will wait for Sister to come!” Flandre cheered, spinning in the dream void. “Then we can play the game of beating up the bad guys together!”

Of course, Remilia replied, her voice dripping with a dark, affectionate promise. I will gladly help Flandre tear those bad guys to pieces.

When Flandre opened her eyes, the pale morning light was already filtering through the frosted window of the cabin. Alina had already left for the morning patrols, leaving Flandre alone in the warm bed.

Thinking about her sister crossing worlds just to play the ‘beating up bad guys’ game with her, Flandre giggled, throwing off the blankets and skipping happily around the small wooden room. She wanted to shout the news from the rooftops, but Remilia had told her to keep it a secret. She slapped both hands over her mouth, muffling her own excited squeals.

Meanwhile, worlds away in Gensokyo, the grand Scarlet Devil Mansion had been transformed into a chaotic laboratory.

complex arrays of machinery, humming magical equipment, glowing immortal arts talismans, and complex Taoist runes were plastered across every conceivable surface of the grand library and courtyard.

“How is it? What’s the status?” Remilia demanded, hovering impatiently behind the array of workers.

“For now, we have roughly locked onto her spatial location,” a voice drawled lazily from the shadows. “But there is an exceptionally thick conceptual barrier wedged between our reality and hers. We suspect it is the foundational ‘wall’ separating different dimensions.”

Yukari Yakumo stepped out of a tear in space, her parasol resting casually over her shoulder. She surveyed the glowing runes with mild interest. “It is not entirely unheard of for outsiders to wash up in Gensokyo. However, the phenomenon of a native Yokai like Flandre suddenly vanishing and being violently thrown into another world… that is a terrifying precedent. It warrants thorough investigation. Logically speaking, the density of that world’s barrier should have made it completely impossible for her to cross over in the first place.”

Yukari wasn’t here out of some altruistic desire to help the vampires. She was here because the sudden, unexplained disappearance of a high-tier Yokai threatened the very foundation of her reality. If a vampire vanished today, what if a Great Yokai vanished tomorrow? What if Reimu Hakurei suddenly disappeared? Without the Shrine Maiden, the Hakurei Barrier would collapse entirely.

But looking at the stabilized coordinates, it seemed the crisis was nearing its end.

Still, Yukari couldn’t deny a spark of genuine curiosity. A parallel world where the inhabitants possessed physical traits strikingly similar to Yokai… Should she send Ran through the gap to conduct a little field research once the pathway opened?

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. But if Ran goes… who is going to do all the housework? And who will look after that child, Chen? I certainly can’t be expected to do it myself.

“How incredibly annoying,” Yukari sighed dramatically, snapping her parasol shut before sinking backward and disappearing into a dark Gap filled with staring red eyes.

Back on the frozen continent of Terra, Flandre’s exceptionally bright mood was infectious. Her cheerful humming and skipping through the snowy camp managed to bleed into the tense atmosphere of the Reunion fighters, lifting the heavy dread that had settled over their shoulders.

Just like that, a week evaporated into the biting wind.

The Ursus army finally arrived, halting their massive march at an abandoned village less than fifty kilometers from the Reunion settlement. The ground trembled under the weight of their treads. Inside the settlement, every Reunion fighter was checking their weapons, rubbing their freezing hands together, and preparing for the bloodbath tomorrow would bring.

Inside the heavily armored command tent of the Ursus vanguard, Count Miles stood over a sprawling topographical map, surrounded by his elite staff officers.

“It is blatantly obvious that someone within the military leaked our marching route,” Count Miles sneered, slamming a heavy fist onto the table. “According to the latest drone reconnaissance, the enemy has erected highly troublesome structural obstacles extending a full thirty kilometers outward from their central camp. These trenches and barricades are specifically designed to cripple our mechanized units.”

He traced a gloved finger along the jagged lines of the map. “, they have entrenched themselves behind a massive mountain range. With the east and north completely walled off by sheer cliffs, our High-Speed Warship simply cannot bypass the choke points to flank them. We are forced into a bottleneck.”

The Count straightened up, a cruel, confident smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “However, the sheer quality of our Imperial soldiers is absolute. Even if we are forced to launch a direct, grinding frontal assault… based on our tactical judgment, this rabble can hold out for a single day at most. Tomorrow, we crush them.”