Arknights: The Scarlet Devil of Terra — Chapter 86

Chapter 86: Communication with Rhodes Island

Flandre Scarlet looked over at Yelena, who was standing off to the side and offering a playful wink. The vampire girl responded by flashing a cheerful ‘OK’ gesture with her small fingers.

Together, they stepped away from the heavy atmosphere of the command tent, walking side by side toward a quieter stretch of the encampment. The biting wind of the tundra howled in the distance, but the immediate area felt strangely peaceful.

“Is Talulah’s problem really solved just like that?” Yelena asked, her breath misting in the frigid air.

Flandre shook her head, her blonde ponytails swaying with the motion. “Not really. Flandre can’t root out the power of that thing called the Deathless Black Snake, so we can only perform the most conservative treatment.”

That treatment meant reinforcing Talulah’s own soul to resist the intrusion. It was a temporary measure that only addressed the symptoms rather than the root cause. As long as the Black Snake’s insidious presence lingered within Talulah’s body, the looming danger would always outweigh their current safety.

“Flandre hasn’t studied souls very much,” the girl added, her tone dropping into a rare, dejected pout. “So Flandre can’t help much with that part.”

Yelena stopped walking and offered a soft, genuine smile that melted the usual frost in her eyes. “It is okay, Flandre. Haven’t you already done more than enough? No one can do everything. Each of us just needs to do what we can. You have helped us so much already. How could we ask you to do things you were never capable of in the first place?”

Reaching into her coat, Yelena pulled out a small, brightly wrapped candy and placed it in Flandre’s hand.

Flandre immediately peeled the wrapper and popped the sweet into her mouth, her dejection vanishing in an instant. “Thank you, Big Sister Yelena!”

The two continued down the dirt path. At the end of the road sat the massive, skeletal frame of the mobile module belonging to the Reunion Movement. Construction was in full swing. The harsh grinding of metal and the bright sparks of welding torches lit up the dim environment as buildings steadily rose from the steel foundation one after another.

Yelena gazed up at the towering structure, her eyes shining with heavy emotion.

“A month ago, everyone was losing sleep over how to avoid the Ursus manhunt,” Yelena murmured, her voice carrying the weight of their long struggle. “A month later, we have not only repelled two separate attacks from the Ursus patrol and the regular army, but we actually have a mobile module of our own. Flandre, do you know what this means? This is something we only ever dared to dream of.”

She placed a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “On this frozen land of Ursus, as Infected, we can finally have a mobile module of our own. A true home. And all of this success is tied to you. Without you, we might still be running like stray dogs in the snow, and Talulah would have been entirely consumed by the Deathless Black Snake without us even noticing, dragging the Reunion Movement down into the abyss. So you do not have to be discouraged by the small things. In my eyes, you have already done perfectly.”

Hearing such earnest praise, Flandre twisted her small body bashfully, kicking at a loose pebble. “Really?”

“Of course,” Yelena laughed. “Come on, let us go up and take a look together.”

Yelena led Flandre up the heavy steel ramps onto the main deck of the mobile module. Standing at the very edge of the elevated platform, they looked down at the sprawling encampment below. The people hurrying back and forth carrying supplies looked as small as ants from this height.

“You know, Talulah once told me she really dislikes coming up to places like this,” Yelena said, leaning against the cold railing. “She said it is because humans look too small from up here. Perhaps those noble lords have had their minds warped over the years because they only ever view the people from this exact perspective, leading them to look down on the masses more and more. But they never stop to think that if it were not for these ordinary people and the Infected acting as their foundation, how could they ever stand so high up in the first place?”

Flandre scratched the side of her head. She did not quite understand this heavy philosophical topic, so she simply stayed quiet, sucking on her candy.

Yelena tilted her head, catching the sight of the troubled vampire girl, and a fond smile curled at the corners of her mouth.

“But I quite like staying up here,” Yelena added softly, looking out toward the horizon. “I can watch the sunrise and the sunset. I can see everyone busy, safe, and full of life.”

The two sat together on the edge of the module for a long time, listening to the rhythmic sounds of construction, before Yelena finally stood up and dusted off her coat.

“Let us go. A small banquet of thanks has been prepared for tonight. You worked hard today, so let us all have some fun together.”

“Yay!” Flandre cheered, throwing her arms up. She loved banquets because they meant a massive crowd of people to play with. She loved the warm, chaotic feeling of everyone being happy in one place.

They descended into a massive, newly cleared hall in the lower levels. The space was already bustling with deafening activity. Reunion Movement cadres, the Lungmen diplomatic mission, and Rhodes Island Operators were all mixed together, sharing tables, clinking heavy mugs, and tearing into steaming hot steaks.

Flandre immediately became a menace to the room, weaving through the dense crowd with boundless energy. One moment she was sneaking up to poke Ch’en in the waist, entirely ignoring the Senior Superintendent’s startled glare, and the next moment she was scaling Buldrokkas’tee’s massive, armored back just to use the Patriot’s heavy cloak as a personal slide.

She had zero interest in the actual food. She just wanted to play, and despite the grim histories of the people in the room, everyone happily indulged the terrifyingly powerful child.

The next morning, the festive atmosphere had faded back into the quiet routine of the camp. Logos tracked Flandre down near the perimeter.

“Can we talk?” the Sarkaz caster asked, his voice smooth and measured.

Flandre blinked up at him, tilting her head. “Of course. Should we talk right here?”

Logos glanced around the open, windswept clearing. “This place does not seem very suitable for a proper conversation.” He pointed a gloved finger toward a makeshift fast-food stall operating out of a modified transport truck a short distance away. “How about over there? I can have my breakfast at the same time.”

The two walked over and claimed a small, wobbly table tucked in the corner. Logos ordered a bowl of steaming hot soup and a piece of flatbread. He sat down, arranged his meal with precise movements, and looked across the table at the girl.

“Your name is Flandre, correct? May I ask where your hometown is?”

Flandre rested her chin in her hands, kicking her legs under the table. “My home? Flandre used to live in the Scarlet Devil Mansion. My full name is Flandre Scarlet, and Flandre has an older sister named Remilia Scarlet. Do you have anything else to ask?”

“Scarlet?” Logos frowned slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing in thought. He was intimately familiar with the Blood Fiend race, but he had never heard of such a surname existing among the ancient vampire lineages.

Catching his own intense expression, Logos quickly smoothed his features. “Do not be so nervous. I am not here to conduct a hostile background check. We have Blood Fiends at Rhodes Island as well, and we are all Sarkaz in the end, so there is no ill intent here. It is just that outside of Kazdel, it is exceedingly rare to see your kind taking the initiative to show their faces in the open. So I wanted to chat with you. For example, about your Arts and your study of incantations.”

Logos tore off a piece of flatbread, his gaze never leaving her face. “From these past few days of exchange and working together, I can see that what you have learned is quite varied. And rather than traditional Blood Fiend blood-craft, there is a distinct shadow of a Lich in your techniques.”

He was genuinely fascinated by the anomaly sitting across from him. Her sheer wealth of knowledge far exceeded the level of any average Blood Fiend. Crucially, her destructive output did not rely on blood as a catalyst, but instead manipulated raw elemental forces in a manner strikingly similar to the ancient Liches of the royal court.

“That is because Flandre learned a lot of magic from Patchy,” she answered simply.

“Who is Patchy?”

“Patchy is my sister’s best friend. She is usually stuck in the library and only occasionally walks around the house. Because her health is not very good, she basically never goes far out the door.”

Logos processed the information instantly. Her sister had a Lich for a friend, and this girl had learned all her incantations directly from that Lich. It made perfect sense. No wonder there was zero trace of standard Blood Fiend methodology, replaced entirely by a heavy, textbook Lich style.

“That massive incident with the Fourth Army Group before winter… that was your doing as well, was it not?” Logos asked, taking a slow sip of his hot soup.

“Actually, that wasn’t really Flandre,” she protested, crossing her arms. “Flandre was just an unlucky accomplice who almost got caught in the blast!”

She quickly recounted the original circumstances of the sabotage mission, making sure to emphasize that she had absolutely no idea the other party’s explosive charge would trigger such a catastrophic chain reaction. She had been standing dangerously close to the detonation point. If she had known the true yield of that blast, she would have flown away long before the countdown finished.

“The person you collaborated with likely did not lie to you,” Logos replied, setting his spoon down. “He was correct in his assessment. The Ursus military indeed has a habit of keeping a small portion of fuses primed for direct deployment. But what he failed to anticipate was that three High-speed Warships required resupplying at the exact same time. The volume of primed explosives and heavy ammunition loaded in that specific warehouse was several times the usual amount.”

Logos had already pieced together the details of that catastrophic accident through Rhodes Island’s intelligence network. At the time, their analysts assumed the mysterious Blood Fiend possessed flawless tactical insight, striking the facility at the exact hour the stockpile was at its absolute maximum.

Now, looking at the innocent, slightly annoyed face of the girl, it seemed the devastating blow to the Ursus military was purely a chaotic accident.

Still, intentional or not, this accident had caused the Ursus Fourth Army Group to suffer a crippling loss. Adding the recent destruction of a High-speed Warship to the tally, the Fourth Army Group had now stumbled twice at Flandre’s hands.

Hearing Logos explain the logistics, Flandre finally understood why the shockwave had nearly knocked her out of the sky back then.

Logos shifted the topic to the core reason he had sought her out. “I heard that the current alliance between the Reunion Movement and Rhodes Island was entirely your recommendation?”

“It was,” Flandre nodded. “At that time, the Reunion Movement was in a really bad spot. They lacked doctors and medicine. Especially for an organization made up entirely of the Infected, they actually had very few people who knew how to properly treat Oripathy. So Flandre thought of Rhodes Island.”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “After all, you are that Highness’s people. As far as Flandre knows, the medical staff on your side are not only numerous but also specialized in treating the Infected. Even though Theresa has passed away, Flandre didn’t think Rhodes Island would abandon its core ideals so quickly. So Flandre told the Reunion Movement to contact you and give it a try.”

Logos remained silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of her words and the casual mention of the former Demon King. He slowly nodded. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“It is nothing. Flandre just felt that since both the Reunion Movement and Rhodes Island want to speak up for the Infected, why not work together?” she replied, spreading her hands out in a simple gesture.

Logos finished the last of his breakfast and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Do you have any plans for what you will do next?”

“Hmm, not really. Flandre will probably just return to Lungmen with Big Sister Ch’en and the others.”

She wasn’t naturally the type of person who liked running around the world looking for trouble. While she loved jumping into a chaotic fight if the excitement presented itself, sitting alone in a daze and playing quietly by herself in a comfortable room was still her favorite hobby.

“In that case, would you be interested in coming to Rhodes Island with me to take a look?” Logos asked, a polite, welcoming smile touching his lips.

Flandre stared at the table for a moment, running the calculations in her head, before firmly shaking her head.

‘The current Rhodes Island has only just started,’she thought to herself.’Everything is waiting to be rebuilt, and their financial situation is probably terrible right now. Otherwise, Amiya wouldn’t have to go fish the Doctor out of that coffin a few years later.’

If she really wanted to visit Rhodes Island, she would wait until the Doctor woke up and the landship entered its period of rapid, chaotic development. There would be far more interesting people running around then, and visiting at that time would be highly entertaining. If she went now, she wouldn’t be treated as an original founder, the halls wouldn’t be lively enough, and worst of all, she might actually be drafted to do boring manual labor.

She, Flandre Scarlet, was not a fool.

Returning to Lungmen meant lively streets, good food, and endless entertainment. Going to Rhodes Island meant empty corridors and hard work. Even a complete idiot would know which option to choose.

Seeing her refuse so decisively, Logos did not push the invitation. He simply stated that if the day ever came when Flandre wished to visit their landship, he would personally accompany her to ensure she received the highest hospitality.

After they parted ways, Logos walked back through the snow to the designated Rhodes Island camp area.

Ace was sitting on a supply crate, checking the edge of his shield. He looked up as the caster approached. “What did the child have to say?”

Logos stopped beside him, his expression returning to its usual stoic calm. He gave a single nod.

“She admitted that she was indeed the one involved in the attack against the Fourth Army Group last winter. However, her initial goal was only to destroy the storage for their explosives, ensuring that the Fourth Army Group would be logistically crippled and unable to deal with the Reunion Movement when spring arrived.”