Flandre soared straight up through the autumn air, landing atop the highest point of the military outpost.
Fortunately, the Guard Department garrison posted there had long since been briefed on her unique status as a high-ranking Blood Demon. The sentries simply pretended not to see the little golden-haired girl perched on their roof, continuing their rounds without a word.
From her vantage point on the peak, Flandre couldn't help but let out a wide-eyed "Wow!"
The position of the outpost was ingeniously chosen. Standing up here, one had an unhindered, panoramic view over the vast wastes stretching north, south, and west. Crucially, from the perspective of anyone looking up from the lowlands, the installation blended seamlessly into the craggy mountain range.
It was nearly impossible for outside forces to pinpoint the precise coordinates of the outpost from below, making it an absolute nightmare for potential infiltrators to find cover. This single mountain post could comfortably monitor all movement along Kazdel's border, while ensuring that any attempt by Ursus to bypass the sector wouldn't escape their line of sight. It was, without a doubt, a vital strategic node.
After flying around the upper ridges to explore, Flandre zipped back down to the valley basin.
By the time she returned, Ch'en's team had finished settling the administrative affairs with the Sarkaz. Considering the sun was already setting over the wastes, Ch'en decided they would pitch camp nearby for the night and head back into the city early the next morning. It offered a perfect opportunity to monitor the refugees during their first night on Yan soil.
"Officer Ch'en, do you need me to assign a few sentries to come down and guard your perimeter?" the outpost captain asked, glancing nervously toward the nearby Sarkaz encampment. "After all... these people are still fresh from Kazdel."
"Don't worry," Ch'en replied, waving a hand dismissively. "Your manpower at the outpost is already stretched thin with the border rotation schedule. Focus on your primary duties."
She cast a calm glance toward her companions. "Besides, with Flandre and Meiling here, our safety is guaranteed."
Ch'en was completely unbothered. Having witnessed the sheer, terrifying combat prowess of both Flandre and Hong Meiling firsthand, she didn't believe for a second that their group was the one in any real danger.
If those Sarkaz actually tried something stupid tonight, it wouldn't take the pair more than a minute to wipe the entire settlement off the map. After all, no matter how tough those mercenary refugees were, none of them could punch a reinforced blast door clean off its hinges with a single casual strike.
Hong Meiling could.
With that terrifying physical strength alone, Meiling could crush an entire squad of armed mercs like kindling. As for Flandre... only those who had seen her unleash her true power knew the absolute hopelessness of standing against her. She was blisteringly fast, endlessly agile, and her methods of destruction were as bizarre as they were total.
Flandre herself was delighted by the arrangement, treating the overnight stay in the wastes as an impromptu camping trip. And in her mind, a proper camping trip demanded one specific delicacy: charcoal-grilled Pincerbug legs.
The moment the overnight decision was confirmed, Flandre raised her hand high into the air, announcing she was going out to hunt down some Pincerbugs for dinner.
Faced with the girl's boundless enthusiasm, Ch'en turned her head to look at Hong Meiling.
Meiling stretched lazily, suppressing a yawn. "Just let the Second Young Mistress go, Sister Ch'en. Otherwise, she'll make a fuss and roll around all night."
Ch'en looked at Flandre, considering her absurd invulnerability. Knowing full well that nothing in this wasteland could possibly hurt the little vampire, she offered a brief warning to stay safe and watched her zoom off into the distance like a red meteor.
With Flandre gone, Ch'en's team set to work pitching their own small camp.
It was late autumn in the wilderness, where the temperature gradient between day and night was notoriously brutal. While the afternoon sun had been sweltering, the bitter northern winds sweeping off the wastes at night would show anyone unprepared just how unforgiving nature could be.
Fortunately, given the long journey from the city center, Ch'en's extended vehicle had come fully stocked with cold-weather sleeping gear, heavy canvas tents, and field rations. Lighting a central campfire, they quickly raised a neat, secure perimeter.
As for why they didn't share a fire with the Sarkaz? That was a matter of practical diplomacy.
The baseline accommodations provided by Lungmen were already far better than anything the refugees had seen in Kazdel—so good that many of them still felt like it was an impossible dream. Under those conditions, showing excessive warmth or overly familiar hospitality would actually produce the opposite effect, breeding suspicion or unease.
Ch'en was no fool. For all her stubborn adherence to protocol, she was remarkably sharp. She understood that these Sarkaz had just crossed a hostile border and were operating under extreme psychological stress. On top of that, several covert spies had just been executed right in front of them.
If her team of uniformed law enforcement officers blundered into their midst to play friendly, it wouldn't put the refugees at ease; it would terrify them.
Not long after, a familiar golden streak descended from the sky. Flandre landed lightly on the grass, holding two massive, wriggling Pincerbugs in her bare hands.
"Sister Ch'en! We can eat our fill tonight!" Flandre cheered, holding up her heavy catch. "I found a huge Pincerbug Swarm!"
Ch'en's brows knit together. "A Pincerbug Swarm? Where?"
Flandre pointed her small finger off toward the southeast. "Over there, near a swamp about ten kilometers away!"
Ten kilometers was a relatively short distance, and the direction Flandre pointed happened to fall into a structural blind spot for the high-altitude outpost above. The sentinels on the ridge hadn't detected any movement down in those wetlands.
Ch'en recalled the regional topographical map. There was indeed a small, stagnant marshland in that sector, exactly as Flandre described.
She glanced over at the Sarkaz camp, then motioned for Flandre to step closer. "In a little bit, I want you to go over and inform their leader about the swarm. Leave the task of clearing out those Pincerbugs to them."
Flandre tilted her head, scratching her cheek in confusion. "If they clean up all the Pincerbugs, doesn't that mean I won't have any more tasty legs to eat later?"
Ch'en rolled her eyes affectionately, reaching out to gently pinch Flandre's soft cheek. "Still such a little glutton, aren't you?"
She smoothed her uniform coat and explained patiently. "Have you thought about what a swarm actually means for them? It's simple for you to catch a Pincerbug because you're strong, but for ordinary citizens, they are extremely dangerous creatures."
"That Sarkaz settlement only has five able-bodied adult men left," Ch'en continued. "If that Pincerbug Swarm grows too large and migrates into this basin, what will happen to their children and elderly?"
A look of sudden realization dawned on Flandre's face.
She really hadn't considered it from that angle. To her, giant wasteland Pincerbugs were no different from harmless frogs hopping by the roadside—she could catch them, roast them, or toss them around however she pleased. But for ordinary folk, a mutated arthropod the size of a hunting dog was a lethal threat.
Unlike larger beasts whose approach could be heard from miles away, Pincerbugs hid in tall grass and struck from the shadows. Children and frail elderly people stood almost no chance against a sudden ambush.
"Then should I just fly over and wipe out their nest right now?" Flandre asked, looking up at Ch'en with bright, earnest eyes.
Ch'en shook her head gently. "No. Just inform them. Since they chose to settle this land, they must learn to handle these environmental threats themselves. If you solve every problem for them now, what will they do when you aren't around next time?"
Flandre scratched her head, feeling a bit conflicted by the heavy logic, but she possessed one remarkably endearing trait: she never wasted time overthinking complex matters outside her expertise. If Sister Ch'en said it was the right way to handle things, she would just follow along!
Flandre clapped her hands together, turning around to trot toward the Sarkaz tents, when a crisp electronic ringtone chimed from her waist pocket.
She pulled out her communicator, saw the incoming call, and let out a soft "Oh!"
"Hello?" Flandre answered, pressing the phone to her ear.
"Flandre! Where are you two?" Beatrice's booming voice echoed through the speaker. "Why haven't you come home yet?"