Shortly after the luxurious carriage rolled away from the outer gates of Londinium, Duq'arael and the accompanying Damazti slipped back through the shifting barriers of the Broken Mansion.
"Are you telling me that Flandre Scarlet is traveling inside that mysterious carriage?" Theresis's expression grew exceptionally serious, his amber eyes narrowing as he processed the report.
Duq'arael offered a casual nod. "The very same!"
"Then you should have detained her on the spot, or at the very least, forced her to display her magical capabilities." Theresis paused for a moment, his jaw tightening. "Never mind. I shall handle this pursuit myself!"
Without waiting for a response, the Regent turned on his heel and strode purposefully toward the courtyard gates.
Watching Theresis march away, Duq'arael briefly wondered if he should speak up and mention that the subtle energies radiating from the rest of that entourage didn't look the least bit weak.
He shrugged the thought away, a faint, mocking smile playing on his pale lips. Years ago, when he had failed to drag Flandre back to Kazdel following their chaotic clash in the east, this proud Regent had mocked him and Nezzsalem on multiple occasions. Today, it was only fair to let the man experience firsthand just how remarkably troublesome that blonde child could be.
Driven by a sudden desire to watch an entertaining spectacle unfold, the Sanguinarch adjusted his cloak and quietly followed at a distance.
Back inside the carriage, Clever slowly blinked her eyes open. She found the passengers sitting in their exact same positions as before, though Flandre was currently leaning in close, staring down at her with wide, mischievous eyes.
"You're finally awake! Wonderful news, you're officially a girl now..." Flandre giggled, her wings fluttering.
"What? What do you mean I'm a girl... No, wait, I was already a girl to begin with!" Clever spluttered, her face flushing as she nearly tumbled straight into the child's playful trap. She stared at Flandre, utterly speechless.
"Excellent. I was worried you had been frightened completely out of your wits," Flandre laughed. She reached over and slid open the heavy velvet curtain, letting the cool prairie wind rush into the cabin, which helped dispel the remaining fog from Clever's mind.
The girl glanced around nervously. Failing to find the terrifying figure who had blocked their path moments ago, she inquired in a cautious whisper, "What happened to that person?"
"Which person?" Flandre asked, tilting her head and pretending to look thoroughly confused.
"The one who barred our path at the gate... that..." Even though the ancient Vampire was nowhere in sight, she still didn't possess the courage to utter his name aloud.
"Oh, you mean Duq'arael? Didn't you scream his name right before you collapsed? Why are you suddenly acting so timid now?" Flandre replied with a perfectly relaxed expression.
Hearing that casual confirmation, Clever shuddered once more. "Where did he go? How did our carriage manage to clear the checkpoint?"
Flandre patted her chest proudly, her chin lofted high. "What is there to be afraid of when it comes to that uncle? The moment I stuck my head out the window, he completely chickened out and stepped aside. Honestly, you are far too easily spooked; fainting the very second you meet an enemy is highly embarrassing."
Flandre shot her a tiny look of playful disdain, causing Clever to offer an awkward, self-conscious smile.
"What a massive disappointment," Meiling's voice echoed from the driver's bench outside, accompanied by a heavy sigh. "I could tell that fellow's physical foundation was exceptional. It would have been wonderful to engage him in a proper duel."
The moment Sakuya had launched her counter-attack, the dragon gatekeeper had been entirely prepared to leap from her seat and unleash a devastating combination of strikes. She certainly hadn't anticipated that the legendary Sanguinarch would retreat so decisively after testing a single move, leaving her with a lingering burst of frustration.
"Focus on driving the horses properly and stop dwelling on such trivial matters," Sakuya chided, casting a stern glare sideways. Meiling instantly straightened her posture, taking up the reins and guiding the carriage forward with utmost obedience.
Before long, Patchouli, who had been quietly perusing her research volume in the corner, raised her eyes from the parchment.
"We are being pursued by a significant presence."
Hearing those words, a vibrant spark of fighting spirit instantly ignited within Meiling's chest. "It is finally my turn to handle the vanguard!"
Without waiting for instructions, she guided the team of horses onto a wide, flat expanse of open ground, bringing the carriage to a smooth halt. She leaped down from the driver's bench, her eyes locked firmly onto the dusty road behind them.
Within minutes, a powerful figure with distinctive, gentle pink hair materialized on the horizon, closing the distance with incredible speed.
Theresis came to a halt, his gaze sweeping over the parked carriage and the woman standing defensively before the horses. His natural combat intuition told him with certainty that this group represented the exact anomaly he had been tracking.
As he stepped closer, the Regent chose not to draw his legendary blade immediately. Instead, he directed his voice toward the closed cabin doors.
"Would the passengers within the carriage care to grant me an audience?"
Inside the compartment, every pair of eyes shifted toward Clever, who looked as though she might faint for the second time today.
"That is Theresis, correct? There aren't many Sarkaz on this continent who possess that specific shade of hair," Flandre remarked before Clever could manage a reply.
Clever offered a frantic nod. She had never imagined her day could become quite this chaotic; in the span of less than two hours, she had personally encountered two of the most terrifying rulers of the military council—the Prince of the Vampires and the Regent himself.
Upon hearing the newcomer's name, Remilia looked toward the carriage door with a flash of genuine interest.
The name Theresis had surfaced constantly during her recent review of modern Terran history. He was recorded as one of the six legendary heroes of the Sarkaz, the brother who had initially stepped aside to allow his sister Theresa to claim the crown of the Demon King, and the commander who later engineered a bitter civil war that ultimately left the queen dead in the streets of Kazdel.
To Remilia's analytical mind, this man represented a fascinating contradiction. Observing him now, she felt a quiet note of pity for the sheer tragedy woven into his life. She recalled Flandre's historical assessment of his character—he had undeniably failed his sister on a personal level, but his actions were entirely dedicated to the preservation of the Sarkaz race.
He was simply a tragic pioneer walking down a path destined for inevitable ruin, using everything he possessed to demonstrate to future generations that this particular method of salvation would not function. For that reason alone, he deserved a measure of respect.
"Patchy, dissolve the active distortion," Remilia instructed.
Patchouli nodded smoothly. Stretching out her slender fingers, she tapped the air with a delicate motion, sending a visible magical ripple cascading across the clearing.
"Distortion? What distortion?" Clever asked, her eyes wide with confusion.
"The Confusion Charm," Flandre explained, pointing a finger toward the vibrant crystals on her wings. "It's a straightforward spell designed to warp the visual perception of any outsider looking our way. Otherwise, how do you think we managed to stroll through the high-security districts of Londinium for an entire week without a single soldier raising an alarm?"
The realization hit Clever like a physical blow. Remilia and Flandre were Vampires possessing physical traits that were impossibly distinct. It was indeed a miracle that they hadn't been swarmed by garrison forces the moment they entered the capital. She had simply been subjected to so many shocks recently that her logical faculties had completely stalled.
"But your appearance never shifted in my eyes!" Clever murmured.
"Naturally," Flandre answered with a soft giggle. "Our magic targets the minds of observers. It would be rather silly if we ended up fooling ourselves, wouldn't it?"
As the explanation wrapped up, Remilia pushed open the carriage door and stepped out onto the plains.
In Theresis's vision, the superficial forms of the two elderly travelers standing near the horses began to dissolve, shifting fluidly into two elegant young women clad in tailored black and white maid attire. Then, the cabin door swung wide, and a small child stepped down onto the grass, her posture radiating an innate, aristocratic arrogance.
The moment their eyes locked, Theresis completely discarded any lingering trace of condescension.
In that single microsecond, he felt as though his entire being had been thoroughly scrutinized by the child before him. The sharp, prickling sensation rising across his skin—the instinctive biological warning triggered only when facing an adversary of supreme power—told him with absolute clarity that the entity standing in front of him possessed unfathomable strength.
"Good afternoon, Your Excellency," Remilia spoke, offering a flawless, aristocratic curtsy. "I am the mistress of the Scarlet Devil Mansion and the current head of our house, Remilia Scarlet."
"Good afternoon." Theresis replied, his tone turning markedly cautious as he recognized her undeniable authority. "I am Theresis. My greetings to you. I must admit, I did not realize the Vampire bloodline still possessed a ruler who combined such formidable power with such exceptional elegance."