Two groups of Sarkaz mercenaries were locked in a fierce firefight across the perimeter of a ruined facility.
There was a stark disparity in strength between the opposing forces; one side was backed into a desperate, crumbling defense, while the other held a overwhelming tactical advantage.
"What do you think? Want to step in and help?"
Noticing Flandre Scarlet staring intently at the skirmish, Hong Meiling offered the suggestion with a hint of eagerness.
"They're clearly about to win, so why would we go over there?" Flandre asked, tilting her head in confusion.
"Huh? Aren't we supposed to save the underdogs?" Hong Meiling glanced back at the valley. Though the weaker squad was on the verge of total annihilation, a single strike from their group could effortlessly crush the attackers and rescue the survivors.
"But I don't even know anyone down there. Why would I help them?" Flandre looked completely bewildered by the logic.
Hong Meiling turned to study her, realizing Flandre possessed zero altruistic urge to intervene. Relaxing her posture, she sighed with mild regret. "Then should we get going? The battle looks fairly boring anyway, and if we hover around too long, they might mistake us for hostile reinforcements."
Yet Hong Meiling quickly noticed that Flandre showed no intention of moving either. Her vibrant crimson eyes remained glued to the battlefield—though her curiosity was focused entirely on the winning faction.
"Are we really going to just sit here? They've already spotted us," Hong Meiling noted.
"There's no rush, right? Let's watch for a bit!" Flandre pointed toward a nearby tree where Patchouli had comfortably leaned against the trunk, quietly flipping through a leather-bound tome without sparing a single glance for the gunfire below.
Seeing that Patchouli tacitly approved of their pause, Flandre hopped onto a flat boulder, resting her chin in her hands as she watched the distant fight.
Down in the abandoned mining sector, the sound of sporadic gunfire echoed off the rusted iron structures.
"Hoederer, someone is watching us from the ridgeline to our northwest!" Ines materialized quietly beside a burly, armored Sarkaz mercenary.
"Whose perimeter scout are they?" Hoederer asked, keeping his eyes locked on the front line as he issued tactical commands.
"I can't tell, but I don't sense any immediate malice," Ines replied, her shadow-weaving Arts probing the distant hilltop.
Hoederer glanced briefly toward the coordinates Ines indicated, vaguely discerning three small silhouettes standing against the sky. The observers hadn't made the slightest attempt to conceal their presence.
Pondering the sudden appearance of unknown entities on the border, Hoederer weighed his options. "Ignore them for now. If they haven't departed once the target unit is wiped out, you and I will go ascertain their intent."
Watching the last pocket of enemy resistance crumble beneath heavy fire, Hoederer's voice remained cool and measured. Ines offered a silent nod before melting back into the surrounding shadows.
Just then, a voice dripping with sharp, clever malice crackled through the short-range comms channel: "Hoederer~ Can't you hurry this up? If your frontline boys can't clean up a few stragglers, just let me blow the whole grid to pieces!"
Hearing the voice over the walkie-talkie, Hoederer's brow—which had just begun to ease—furrowed into a deep scowl. "W, your assignment is to seal the enemy's rear extraction route. You are strictly forbidden from engaging in unscripted actions."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah~ Blocking the retreat for these pathetic little guys, right? I finished that ages ago!" W's playful, erratic voice chimed back. "I just overheard what you and Ines were talking about. How about I go take a look at what those peeping Toms on the ridge are up to?"
Click.
W cut the transmission line before Hoederer could issue a counter-command.
Hoederer ground his teeth, forced to maintain his command over the final assault. Though his force held total supremacy, carelessness near the end of a mercenary contract was a quick way to get killed. No one knew if the dying commander held a hidden Originium explosive or a desperate trump card. Even if the enemy couldn't turn the tables, taking unnecessary casualties at the finish line was a net loss.
"Ines!" Hoederer called into the private frequency. He could only rely on his most trusted companion—one of the few people in the entire mercenary band besides himself who could keep W from causing absolute chaos.
"Understood," a cool, composed female voice answered softly before the signal faded.
Up on the mountain ridge, Hong Meiling looked down at two figures rapidly scaling the slope.
"Two people are heading up our way. Looks like one of them is carrying quite a bit of active hostility. Do you want me to intercept her?"
Flandre shook her head cheerfully. "No need, just let them come! Oh, by the way, I brought some Milk in my flask. Do you want a sip?"
Hong Meiling politely declined with a wave of her hand. "That's the special batch Sakuya prepared specifically for you before we left. You'd better keep it for yourself!"
Flandre blinked, taking a small sip. "Oh, that explains why it tastes so much richer than usual!"
The two sat casually on the rock, enjoying their quiet break. Before long, the footsteps of the approaching mercenaries crested the final ridge.
"W, they haven't drawn weapons or cast Arts. Can you stop being so wildly impulsive for once?" an annoyed female voice reached their ears.
"What do you mean impulsive?! I just want to see whose eyes think they can pry on my contract!" another volatile, grating voice snapped back.
As the argument continued, the two mercenaries stepped out into the clearing, bringing them face-to-face with the resting group.
The moment the white-haired mercenary caught sight of Flandre's features, her eyes widened in shock.
"A Blood Demon?!" W yelled, her posture coiling into an instant, predatory stance.
"Hello there!" Flandre offered a cheerful, innocent wave, acting as though she were completely oblivious to the weapon being raised at her.
"W, calm down!" Seeing W's hand drop instantly toward her explosive detonators and sidearm, Ines stepped smoothly between the two, her shadow-blade half-drawn.
"Sarkaz expletive! You're telling me to calm down?! That's a damn Blood Demon!" W snarled, her red eyes burning with instinctive hostility as her gaze locked onto Flandre.
Flandre tilted her head, her voice remarkably calm. "What's wrong with being a Blood Demon? Even during the height of the Kazdel civil war, there was a faction of Blood Demons serving Her Highness Theresa. What, if Theresa could accept Blood Demons back then, who are you to try and exterminate us all?"
The name dropped from Flandre's lips caused both W and Ines to freeze in absolute silence.
Within the mercenary bands of Kazdel, the name Theresa was an absolute, sacred taboo—especially in front of W.
Before W could explode or demand an explanation, Flandre continued smoothly: "There's no need to interrogate us about who we are. We're just travelers who recently departed Rhodes Island, and now we're on our way to Lungmen. We happened to spot the battle down in the valley and stayed to watch out of curiosity. I hope our presence didn't cause any inconvenient misunderstandings."
"Heading to Lungmen... a young Blood Demons..." Ines's sharp eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the small girl sitting casually on the rock.
"Are you... that Blood Demons? The one who turned the Ursus border upside down, seized a High-Speed Battleship from the Fourth Army Group, and annihilated their primary assault divisions?"
Ines stared in genuine disbelief. Intelligence regarding those events had circulated through top-tier mercenary channels, but most commanders—Ines included—had treated the reports as exaggerated propaganda or outright fiction. After all, the concept of a single child destroying a mobile landship was something even the most imaginative playwrights in Columbia wouldn't dare put on paper.
"If the rumors you heard match those details, then yes, that was me," Flandre nodded modestly.
"You really came from Rhodes Island?" W asked, her volatile hostility suddenly receding, replaced by an intense, searching stare.
"That's right. I have good friends at Rhodes Island, so I went to visit them. Now I'm heading back home to Lungmen," Flandre replied candidly.
W stared at Flandre for a long, heavy silence, the erratic spark in her eyes flickering with uncharacteristic restraint.
Finally, W clicked her tongue softly, turning her gaze away. "Tch. It really isn't you people..."
Without another word, she spun on her heel and marched back down the mountain path without looking back.