Arknights: The Scarlet Devil of Terra — Chapter 95

Chapter 95: Returning to Lungmen

The brief exchange had genuinely unsettled Duq’arael.

Beneath that innocent, whimsical exterior, the opponent had actually mastered a terrifying, instantaneous curse of death. Is this girl’s lineage truly that carefree? he mused, his crimson gaze fixed on Flandre. It was a look caught halfway between deep admiration and sheer exasperation.

He admired the fact that such a tiny, youthful creature could wield such apocalyptic strength. Given time, she would undoubtedly become an absolute pillar of the Blood Fiend Court. The frustration, however, stemmed from her blatant disinterest in the Court itself—a reality that gave him a massive headache.

He seriously considered the logistics of dragging this child back to Kazdel by force. With her innate talent and a period of proper, rigorous education, the next generation’s Sanguinarch would be entirely settled. But the immediate hurdle was her complete lack of history with the Court. She held absolutely zero sentimental attachment to Kazdel. Forcing her to stay would almost certainly trigger a catastrophic backlash.

Never mind, he decided. He could sit on his throne for a long time yet. He would let this little anomaly wander the outside world, letting her batter her head against its cruelties until she recognized reality. Once she understood that Kazdel was the only true sanctuary for the Sarkaz, he would bring her back and teach her properly.

Having made his decision, Duq’arael chose not to entangle himself further with Flandre’s volatile magic. He glanced down at Ch’en Hui-chieh’s group, then brought his attention back to the little vampire.

“People’s hearts change,” the Sanguinarch said, his voice echoing with an ancient, aristocratic cadence. “The only true home for the Sarkaz is Kazdel, though we still encourage our kin to find the home within their own hearts. But the final outcome has never changed.”

He offered a faint, elegant smile. “If you wish to persuade me otherwise, then prove yourself. Let me see with my own eyes whether this Lungmen is an existence truly worthy of your trust. I hope that the next time we meet, your answer remains the same.”

With those final words, Duq’arael turned. The air warped around him, and in a sudden, silent implosion of crimson light, he vanished completely from their sight.

“He’s gone?” Ch’en asked, her voice tight with lingering dread as Flandre floated down to land lightly beside her.

Before today, Ch’en had been supremely confident in her own martial prowess and tactical strength. But after witnessing the sheer scale of a true clash between ancient monsters, that confidence had fractured. In a battle of this catastrophic magnitude, did the weapons and training of ordinary mortals even matter?

“Flandre doesn’t know. He should be gone,” the little vampire muttered, staring intently at the empty space where the blood-light had faded. “That guy was acting all mysterious. How strange!”

On the long walk back to the convoy, Ch’en observed the Yan Shadow Guards flanking them. Though they had been surprised by the display of power, their eyes lacked the existential worry that currently gnawed at Ch’en’s nerves. Unable to suppress her curiosity, she asked them why they seemed so unbothered.

“Miss Flandre’s strength is indeed immense,” one of the masked guards explained, his tone even. “But within Yan, there are also existences capable of rivaling her. For instance, the renowned Celestial Masters.”

The guard adjusted his bamboo hat, looking toward the eastern horizon. “While they might not be able to fly through the air as casually as she does, with a simple gesture, they can split mountains, shatter rocks, gather the lightning, and summon fire.”

Ch’en experienced a sudden epiphany. Yan possessed its own ancient foundations. While the combat strength of the Sanguinarch and Flandre far exceeded the world of ordinary people, Yan was not without its own equivalent deterrents. It was precisely because of these hidden pillars that Yan had remained as steady as Mount Tai amidst the endless, chaotic shifts of Terra over thousands of years.

The group climbed back into their vehicle, accelerating to catch up with the main trade convoy.

No one in the caravan dared to ask what had transpired behind them. Many had seen the sky-reaching pillars of fire and felt the shockwaves of the explosions rattling their teeth, but the safe return of Ch’en’s group was the only answer they needed.

A few days later. The city of Londinium.

Deep beneath the colossal, steel-ribbed skeleton of The Shard currently under construction, Theresis stood with his hands clasped behind his back. He looked toward the two Lords of the Royal Court who had just arrived from the Kazdel battlefield: the Nachzehrer King, Nezzsalem, and the Sanguinarch, Duq’arael.

“The Ursus forces have been driven out?” Theresis asked, his voice a low rumble in the cavernous industrial space.

“You know as well as I do that this Ursus invasion was more of a meat-grinder exercise than a true conquest. It wasn’t particularly difficult,” Duq’arael replied smoothly. “Ever since we orchestrated that ambush for them, they haven’t shown the slightest inclination to counter-attack. If it weren’t to ensure Ursus wasn’t using the retreat as a smokescreen for some other scheme, we wouldn’t have lingered there until the war officially ended.”

Halfway through the bloody clash with Ursus, the Sarkaz leadership had deduced the ugly, sinister reality of the enemy’s strategy. The Ursus nobles had deliberately incited their Infected soldiers, feeding them lies that their Oripathy was entirely the fault of the Sarkaz. The invasion of Kazdel was framed as a righteous crusade for revenge following the harsh winter.

The Infected soldiers, desperate and foolish, had swallowed the bait and charged the front lines. But the Ursus high command had no actual logistical plan; they occupied territory without garrisoning it, blindly pushing deeper into the barren wastelands of Kazdel. It created the illusion of massive territorial gains in the early stages, but it was entirely hollow. It posed no real threat to the true heart of Kazdel.

The Infected conscripts simply swarmed wherever they heard Sarkaz might be, devoid of military discipline or coherent battle lines.

Because of this chaotic approach, Theresis had easily designed a strategy to use artificial Catastrophes to ambush the invading forces. He had personally overseen the defense of Kazdel, while the armies of the Nachzehrers and the Blood Fiends pursued the routing Ursus forces, reclaiming the lost territory with brutal efficiency. Once the pressure eased, Theresis had relocated to Londinium to advance his grander designs, leaving the two Lords of the Court to handle the post-war cleanup.

Now, the war was over, and the three leaders stood together, discussing the aftermath of the ‘unforeseen disaster.’

“I heard you encountered that little Blood Fiend who forced us to take the blame for her actions?” Theresis asked, his gaze sharpening.

“Indeed,” Nezzsalem nodded slowly, his ancient, withered features solemn.

“Why didn’t you keep her?” Even Theresis felt a pragmatic desire to recruit such a terrifying talent—a tiny entity capable of carving her way back and forth through an entire Ursus army group. He had already interrogated the Sarkaz who had defected to his side after Theresa’s death; none of them recognized the girl, and the name ‘Flandre’ was entirely unknown to their intelligence networks.

Why would two Lords of the Royal Court fail to secure a junior with such infinite potential?

“That child has her own home,” Nezzsalem replied, his voice carrying the weight of countless centuries. “And she was right—she can live happily where she is. I could find no righteous reason to force her to stay. After all, the hatred of the Sarkaz has not yet reached the point where it must be borne by a cub.”

The Nachzehrer King’s answer was absolute. Though his own hatred for the nations of Terra ran too deep to ever be cleansed, he did not desire for the Sarkaz to drown in that same hatred forever. Flandre’s words had genuinely moved the ancient warrior. Facing a Sarkaz who had found genuine happiness, he could not bring himself to drag her back to the desolate ash of Kazdel, forcing her to swallow their generational bitterness.

Nezzsalem shifted his gaze to Duq’arael. “Did you not pursue the child yourself? You returned empty-handed as well.”

Feeling Theresis’s eyes on him, Duq’arael recalled the apocalyptic clash of magic. “That child is exceptionally talented. To be entirely honest, even if she joined our ranks, I would find very little I could actually teach her. But just as Lord Nezzsalem said, the atrocities we commit now are so that the Sarkaz people no longer have to live in such endless suffering.”

The Sanguinarch adjusted his cuffs, his tone turning philosophical. “She currently resides in a warm environment and possesses more than enough strength to protect herself. Aside from the abstract concept of ‘responsibility,’ I could find no excuse to demand her return. Making a cub bear our collective hatred would be putting the cart before the horse for our entire cause.”

Theresis listened in silence, eventually giving a slow nod. He had already reviewed the intelligence reports regarding Flandre’s life in Lungmen. The city’s Chief Executive and his wife had gone to great lengths to ensure the girl could walk openly through the streets without facing the usual discrimination or prejudice aimed at their kind.

If that was true, there was indeed no strategic or moral need to drag a happy child back to Kazdel to suffer.

“Why did that little thing attack the Ursus army group in the first place, and why did she appear in Lungmen? Is there any concrete intelligence?” Theresis asked, turning his attention to a very ordinary-looking Victorian man standing quietly by the wall.

“I have uncovered some preliminary information,” the spy answered calmly, stepping out of the shadows. “It appears to be related to an Ursus Infected organization known as the Reunion Movement. However, the timeframe has been too short; I have not yet secured the finer details.”

“An Infected organization, is it?” Theresis pondered the words, his mind already spinning new webs. “We can attempt to contact or guide them. If they can pin down Ursus’s attention within their own borders, we can arrange for more of our people to infiltrate here.”

In Theresis’s strategic view, there was a natural, explosive opposition between an Ursus Infected organization and the old, corrupt nobles of the empire. He didn’t know what it had to do with Flandre, but this ‘Reunion’ could be weaponized to distract Ursus internally. If Ursus was busy fighting itself, the pressure on Kazdel’s borders would evaporate. After all, among Kazdel’s current neighbors, the barbarians of Ursus were by far the most aggressive and predatory.

“Understood,” the Victorian man nodded slightly, retreating back into the shadows without another word.

The three Sarkaz leaders then shifted their conversation toward the ongoing subjugation of Victoria.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the continent.

The trade caravan took a full night’s rest after crossing into Yan territory. By the following afternoon, they finally rolled into the bustling outskirts of Lungmen.

Looking at the massive, gleaming skyline of the mobile city in the distance, a collective, deafening cheer erupted from the weary travelers. The past three days of travel had kept everyone suffocated with paranoia. During the first two days, even a wild rabbit darting out from the roadside brush was enough to make the guards draw their weapons in sheer panic.

Now, having brushed past the jaws of death and witnessed the horrors of war, the sight of civilization was intoxicating.

The caravan’s arrival immediately drew a massive crowd. Ever since the border war between Ursus and Kazdel had erupted, almost half a year had passed without a single western trade route operating successfully. Their safe return was a glaring signal to the market: the war between the Sarkaz and Ursus was over. The western trade routes were open once more.

It was incredibly lucrative news for Lungmen.

Upon receiving the report, Chief Executive Wei Yenwu personally descended to receive the caravan. After thoroughly debriefing the leaders on every detail of their harrowing journey, he hosted a grand, opulent banquet to celebrate their survival and the reopening of the trade lines.

However, a few key figures were notably absent from the grand hall.

The missing individuals were currently tucked away in the private, tranquil backyard of the Chief Executive’s mansion, being personally hosted by Madam Fumizuki.

Flandre, having finally returned to the safety of her new home, was currently engaged in a fierce struggle—using both hands to desperately push away the face of a very clingy Swire, who was aggressively trying to rub her cheeks against the little vampire’s soft skin.