But seeing Flandre's incredibly pitiful, teary-eyed appearance, Remilia's protective older-sister heart eventually softened completely.
The very instant the permission slipped from her lips, Flandre—who had looked ready to cry just a second prior—instantly broke into a radiant, beaming smile.
"Yay!"
Having not engaged in a proper fight for what felt like ages, Flandre's hands were getting exceptionally itchy. Plus, since these sneaking figures didn't look like good guys at all, she didn't have to be anywhere near as cautious or held-back as she usually was whenever she threw a punch.
As for her logic on why they definitely weren't good guys? It was simple: no decent, upstanding citizen would deliberately sneak through a dark reed marsh while carrying a small arsenal of lethal weapons.
When the hidden assassins managed to creep within less than fifty meters of the campsite, the entire opposition suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. Clearly, they were highly trained professionals waiting patiently for the absolute perfect tactical moment to strike.
After all, the Mansion crew was currently scattered idly around the clearing, which was a terrible layout for an ambush. The absolute best opportunity would be the exact moment the family gathered around the cooking fire to eat. The crowd would crowd around the hot pot of fish soup, and everyone's visual attention would be drawn entirely to their bowls. That would be the perfect window to maximize casualties.
Seeing that the killers were holding their positions, Remilia lightly held Flandre back by her shoulder, indicating via a small look that they should wait and see what the other side was planning first. To the vampires, these assassins were nothing more than fragile little toys anyway; it would be entirely boring if they accidentally broke them all at once before the game even started.
Flandre listened to her sister and obediently sat back down beside Remilia. However, her crimson eyes kept darting toward the reeds, and her entire body was practically vibrating with restless, erratic energy.
But the observing killers watching from the brush didn't find this restless behavior strange at all. After all, from a distance, Flandre looked exactly like a normal, spoiled child. It was only natural for a child to be naughty, fidgety, and entirely unable to concentrate on one spot for long.
Before long, the delicious, aromatic fish soup was fully prepared. Just as Sakuya Izayoi began gracefully ladling the steaming broth into individual bowls for everyone, the surrounding assassins saw the Scarlet Devil Mansion group's collective attention wander, and they instantly knew their golden chance had arrived.
The very next second, a dense torrent of black arrows rained down from the reed marshes like a localized thunderstorm. They were numerous, tightly packed, and frighteningly precise, aimed directly at the vital organs of every single person around the fire. If those arrows actually managed to hit their marks, the entire traveling group would look like they were aggressively cosplaying as human hedgehogs.
But at that exact microsecond, Hong Meiling—who had been casually squatting by the log—suddenly materialized directly in the space between the flying projectiles and the Scarlet Devil Mansion. As she majestically spread her arms wide, a brilliant, multi-colored magic circle instantly expanded across the grass beneath her boots.
Colorful Flower [Rainbow Taiji Quan]
She struck outward with continuous, rhythmic waves of concentrated inner Qi, precisely intercepting the iron tips of the descending arrows with her bare palms, swatting them out of the air one by one like annoying mosquitoes.
After the initial volley cleared, the assassins discovered to their absolute horror that not a single arrow had managed to fly past the tall woman in the black suit; she had easily neutralized the entire ambush with a casual dance. These weren't slow projectiles, and it wasn't just one or two arrows—it was a synchronized, military-grade volley of well over a hundred deadly shafts.
Lost in their paralyzed state of shock, the assassins failed to notice that another critical target from the Scarlet Devil Mansion had already completely vanished from the campsite.
The exact millisecond the enemy launched their arrows, Remilia's physical restriction on Flandre was officially lifted. In the next instant, Flandre charged forward, transforming into a terrifying, high-speed streak of pure, bloody light.
She materialized directly in front of the lead assassin, instantly gripping him tightly by the neck with one hand. Before the man could even register her face, his entire body began to violently contort and swell, collapsing under a massive pressure point before instantly exploding into a red mist. Flesh and blood instantly painted the surrounding reeds for several meters.
Without a pause, Flandre's glowing eyes locked onto the next closest target.
The man instinctively turned to flee in terror, but he suddenly found his limbs gripped by an inescapable, crushing force. He looked down in horror only to see that the blonde, tiny brat had somehow physically split herself into four identical clones, each one firmly pinning one of his arms and legs. In that terrifying flash of clarity, he understood exactly how he was about to die.
"Yamero—!" Stop!
Before he could even finish his desperate plea, his body was violently torn into four pieces simultaneously.
The third victim was met with Flandre loudly shouting "Soul-Scattering Iron Claws!" as her small, delicate fingers pierced effortlessly through his ballistic chest armor. She then proceeded to pull the living man completely apart into two neat pieces from the center of his sternum.
The fourth target's head was violently spun a full seven hundred and twenty degrees on his shoulders before popping loose and bouncing onto the mud.
The fifth one...
The sixth one...
The systematic dismantling continued relentlessly until the very last surviving assassin trying to scramble back to the city was turned into a smoking lump of charcoal. Flandre smoothly pulled out her legendary vampire sword, Laevateinn, and shouted, "EXcaliburRR!"
Only after the giant blade of fire scorched the marsh did she happily hop back to Remilia's side, sheathing her weapon with a sigh of immense satisfaction.
At this exact moment, Remilia was covering her face with both of her hands, completely refusing to look at the clearing. It wasn't that she couldn't handle the sheer gore of the aftermath, but rather the crushing realization that her little sister had apparently awakened such an incredibly messy, cinematic hobby of execution. She felt an overwhelming wave of guilt, as if she were deeply failing their ancient vampire ancestors' noble traditions.
The others also stood there with their mouths subtly twitching. To be completely fair, although these corporate killers had died in visually horrific ways, they had actually died incredibly quickly; while there was a microsecond of intense pain, the sheer speed meant it didn't technically count as prolonged torture.
However, the disturbing part was that even though Flandre could have easily used the most efficient, clean method to erase these threats, she had deliberately insisted on making every single kill entirely different from the last, actively forcing these people to die by wildly different medical injuries. Rather than a standard battlefield slaughter, it felt far more like a grotesque piece of live performance art.
This theatrical display made Patchouli highly worried about Flandre's long-term mental health stability. But since she was a librarian and a magician rather than a licensed psychiatrist, she quietly decided to pull Remilia aside for a serious conversation later.
When the spatial door to Gensokyo eventually opened next time, she would absolutely insist that the mistress of the Palace of the Earth Spirits, Satori Komeiji, and Eirin Yagokoro conduct a joint psychological consultation for Flandre to determine her true mental state.
But for right now, eating a warm meal was significantly more important.
Patchouli casually waved her hand, and a gentle, purifying breeze spread out in all directions across the marshland. The wind served no offensive purpose; she simply flatly refused to inhale a noseful of copper blood odors while trying to enjoy her hot fish soup.
After finishing their dinner, everyone agreed that the residual smell of blood hanging over the clearing was far too heavy and would undoubtedly attract packs of aggressive, wild beasts during the dead of night. Having no other choice, the group packed their plates and walked a short distance further down the river to find a fresh, clean spot to re-pitch their camp.
"If it's really that much of a hassle, I don't actually need a tent tonight," Flandre offered helpfully as she watched Sakuya and Meiling setting up the structural poles for a second time.
"Don't be silly, Little Flan. Where on earth would you sleep comfortably at night without a tent?" Remilia scolded gently, reaching out to give her sister's cheek a light pinch.
Flandre merely pointed a finger toward a nearby, crooked willow tree hanging over the water. "I can just sleep right up there, exactly like this!"
With a sudden, athletic spring, Flandre leaped high into the air and hooked her ankles over a sturdy branch, hanging perfectly upside down in the breeze.
Fortunately, before embarking on this cross-continental road trip, she had wisely changed out of her puffy, frilly Scarlet Devil Mansion dress into far more convenient, flexible casual clothes; otherwise, that giant skirt would currently be hanging down, acting as a prime net for catching local dust and falling leaves.
Seeing her dangling there so casually, the rest of the group was entirely speechless.
Are you genuinely treating yourself like a common wild bat? Didn't you notice that even your older sister doesn't sleep hanging upside down from trees anymore?
Remilia covered her eyes with her hand for what felt like the tenth time today. Her little sister was truly a brilliant genius whenever she chose to be smart, but whenever she decided to act silly, her absolute lack of common sense was arguably even worse than that chaotic Ice Fairy, Cirno, back at the Misty Lake.
"Aren't you at all afraid of what happens if it starts pouring rain in the middle of the night? It's currently the volatile transition period between spring and summer, meaning it rains exceptionally easily around these biomes," Patchouli pointed out, gesturing with her sleeve toward the darkening sky as a warning.
Flandre tilted her upside-down head and looked up, finally realizing that at some unknown point during their dinner, the starry sky had become heavily overcast with thick, rolling dark clouds, looking ready to dump a hearty downpour onto the earth at any moment.
Thinking about the deeply unpleasant prospect of icy rain splashing all over her face while she was half-asleep in the branches in the middle of the night, the little vampire couldn't help but let out a dramatic shudder.
"I want to sleep in a tent! I definitely want to sleep in a tent!" Flandre yelled, quickly dropping down from the branch and scrambling toward the opening. "Patchy, please help put a high-grade Water-repelling Rune on the outside of my tent fabric!"
After shouting her request, she ducked her head inside the flap, sealing herself safely away from the wilderness.
Seeing her rapid, childish turnaround, the remaining adults couldn't help but share a warm, knowing smile with one another. And sure enough, just before they closed their eyes to go to sleep that night, the heavy clouds finally broke, and a steady, rhythmic rain began to patter softly against the enchanted canvas.