Once everyone gathered at the final destination, some would inevitably choose to return to Gensokyo, while others would just be arriving on this side of the boundary. However, none of that was of any immediate concern to the household of the Scarlet Devil Mansion. Since Flandre was happily traveling here, Remilia had no intention of heading back just yet. As for their estate back home, Reimu Hakurei had promised to keep a close eye on the grounds, leaving the mistress with absolutely nothing to worry about.
Upon hearing that the carriage was charting a course for Leithanien, Clever felt entirely at ease with the itinerary. She was well aware that several of her associates from Rose Riverside were currently residing within those borders. Once they crossed the frontier, she would easily be able to establish contact with them and see if there were any local matters requiring her assistance.
Before long, the evening meal was fully prepared, and the companions sat in a comfortable circle, chatting amiably as they ate.
"This smells absolutely incredible!" Clever exclaimed, looking down at the succulent roasted meat in her bowl. Then, her eyes darted toward the surrounding brush with a sudden note of vigilance.
After all, presenting such a rich, savory aroma in the middle of nowhere could easily attract dangerous apex predators. Yet, as the minutes ticked by, the dark wilderness remained profoundly still, devoid of any hostile movement whatsoever.
To Clever's logical mind, this peaceful silence felt entirely unreasonable. Although their campsite was situated roughly a single day's journey from the outer walls of Londinium, they were effectively deep within the Wilds. The population of aggressive beasts roaming these untamed territories was far higher than most city dwellers imagined. Furthermore, wild creatures possessed exceptionally sensitive tracking senses; they ought to have picked up a rich scent like this from several kilometers away. Under such conditions, the fact that every single predator was choosing to stay far away from the clearing left her thoroughly bewildered.
"What exactly are you looking around for?" Flandre inquired, tilting her head in confusion as she noticed Clever continuously scanning the dark tree line.
Clever candidly explained her ecological concerns. Hearing the explanation, Flandre simply chuckled and pointed a finger toward the dragon gatekeeper.
"It is all because of Meiling! With her sitting right there, none of those beasts or insects possess the courage to venture anywhere near our camp."
Clever shifted her gaze toward Meiling, who was currently gnawing on a roasted wing with immense gusto. Looking at her greasy mouth and relaxed demeanor, she found it nearly impossible to reconcile the cheerful glutton with the terrifying deterrent Flandre had just described.
But then, recalling how Meiling had single-handedly dismantled Theresis's six-man vanguard earlier in the day without breaking a sweat, she realized the claim might not be far from the truth. The soldiers serving the Regent were by no means weaklings; any single one of them was fully capable of turning the tide of a small-scale battle on a conventional battlefield. Yet, they hadn't managed to endure even two full exchanges against the gatekeeper. The sheer depth of Meiling's physical prowess was staggering to contemplate.
Still, combat strength was one thing, but how did she manage to project an aura that kept the local wildlife completely paralyzed with fear?
Before Clever could unravel the mystery, Flandre finished her portion of the meal and eagerly yanked on Meiling's sleeve to drag her away from the fire. "Come along, Meiling! Help me digest my dinner!"
"Alright, alright. What sort of game do you wish to play this evening?" Meiling laughed, reaching out to gently tap the child on the nose.
"A Danmaku battle!" Flandre declared, raising both hands high into the air.
"Absolutely not. We are far too close to the borders of Londinium, and the local settlements are not a great distance away," Meiling refused gently. "Unleashing that kind of energy out here would easily trigger severe misunderstandings and widespread panic among the scouts."
"Oh. Then let us simply have a physical brawl!" Flandre suggested instead.
Meiling glanced toward Remilia, who offered a brief nod of approval. Turning back to the child, the gatekeeper smiled. "Then we shall rest for two more minutes. Engaging in strenuous exercise immediately after a heavy meal is terribly bad for your digestion."
Flandre didn't press her, skipping off to the edge of the clearing to wait.
Clever watched the exchange in stunned silence, looking at the remaining passengers with wide eyes. One had to remember that Meiling was a master who could crush elite Sarkaz warriors using nothing but her bare hands. Although Flandre certainly didn't seem weak, her appearance strongly suggested she belonged to a spellcaster archetype. Was she truly intending to engage in a physical brawl against a dedicated close-quarters powerhouse?
On second thought, Clever reasoned that Meiling was likely just indulging in a harmless game to keep a child entertained. In her estimation, one of the gatekeeper's primary roles within this traveling household was acting as a glorified babysitter.
A few moments later, Meiling stood up and accompanied Flandre to a wide, open clearing just beyond the tents. Loosening her wrists with a quick shake, the martial artist looked across the grass. "Come on then!"
"Yay!"
The instant the word left her lips, Flandre summoned a massive greatsword wreathed in roaring crimson flames, leaping into the air to launch a shattering downward slash.
Meiling tightened her fists, a brilliant burst of multicolored internal energy erupting from her frame to cleanly intercept the crushing weight of the fiery strike.
Flandre was entirely undeterred by the parry. Her greatsword instantly extended dozens of meters in length, twisting through the air like a coiling dragon of pure fire as she unleashed a sweeping arc.
Meiling didn't speak another word, simply shouting in rapid succession as her fists blurred into motion. With every single punch she threw, concentrated streaks of vibrant energy shot across the clearing, colliding squarely with the flaming greatsword and illuminating the wilderness in a spectacular display of light and impact.
Clever watched the chaotic exchange from her seat by the fire, her jaw practically dropping to the floor. She slowly turned to Remilia, pointing a trembling finger toward the flashing lights.
"You... you call this a harmless brawl?"
Remilia rubbed her temples, a faint sigh escaping her lips. "To be perfectly frank, where we come from, this isn't considered a true brawl either. It can only be classified as basic melee combat."
"A dozens-of-meters-long flaming greatsword falls under the category of basic melee combat?" Clever felt her understanding of reality fracturing.
"Naturally. In our standard engagements back home, combatants typically maintain a spacing of over fifty meters from one another," Remilia replied calmly.
Clever glanced at Flandre's petite frame, then toward Patchouli, who possessed the delicate appearance of a sickly young scholar, and finally at Sakuya, the elegant chief maid. They all certainly looked like individuals who relied on intricate, high-level arts. Did their society simply spam city-level destructive skills whenever a dispute arose at home? If that was the case, how on earth did they manage to raise a little one who took immense pleasure in running around swinging a ten-meter-long blade of fire?
Just as Clever was drowning in her own perplexity, Flandre's bright laughter echoed across the plain.
"Sister, sister! Come and join the game!"
Remilia let out a resigned sigh. "Very well, I shall play with you for a bit."
To Clever's absolute astonishment, the mistress flicked her wrist, manifesting a wicked, scarlet spear out of thin air before rushing directly into the fray. In the very next heartbeat, Flandre's form split fluidly into two identical clones; one clone continued to trade rapid blows with Meiling, while the second swung her colossal flaming blade straight toward Remilia.
Remilia remained completely unfazed, lifting her crimson spear with practiced elegance to parry the massive strike.
Watching the figures trading earth-shaking blows in a wild, chaotic blur out on the grass, Clever turned a bewildered gaze toward the remaining two women by the fire.
Patchouli offered a delicate wave of her hand, indicating that she lacked the physical inclination for close-quarters brawling. She was a traditional academic mage—the dedicated heavy artillery of the Scarlet Devil Mansion.
On the other side of the fire, Sakuya remained perfectly silent, but she smoothly slipped a polished silver throwing knife from her sleeve, executing a swift, precise carving motion in the air.
Clever understood the silent gestures instantly. One was a back-line sorcerer, and the other was a lethal assassin. Combined with the three combatants out on the field, they formed the textbook structure of an elite party. Granted, they appeared to lack a dedicated healer or a scout, but given that every single member of this entourage possessed the intrinsic capability to fly, airborne reconnaissance rendered standard scouting redundant.
As for medical treatment... it was exceptionally difficult to envision an adversary capable of inflicting a genuine physical wound on any of these individuals. In Clever's estimation, the level of power they displayed while merely "playing" was more than enough to casually terminate an entire platoon of ordinary soldiers.
After maintaining the intense exchange for a while longer, Flandre finally spent the worst of her chaotic energy. She touches down on the grass, looking thoroughly satisfied.
"How thoroughly refreshing!" Flandre giggled, skipping back to the tents while happily hugging Remilia's arm.
"Now that you have vented your excitement, go and rest your mind. Didn't Patchy purchase several volumes for you back in the city?" Remilia noted, pointing toward the storage compartments of the carriage.
"Right!" Flandre wiped a light bead of sweat from her brow, running over to the vehicle to retrieve a heavy tome titled Originium Structural Studies. She trotted back to the campfire, plopping down onto a log to peruse the pages.
"You are actually reading a text like that?" Clever inquired, her curiosity piqued as she caught sight of the complex academic title. She remembered that specific volume; it was an advanced specialized textbook utilized exclusively by university scholars pursuing deep research into industrial Originium fields.