"Damn it! We have to do something, or none of us are making it out alive!"
Beside the team leader, a Rhodes Island Operator yelled at the top of his lungs, his mouth practically glued to his captain's ear.
It wasn't that he was losing his temper, but in a gale this fierce, sound was entirely swallowed by the roar of the squall, and visibility was down to near zero. Screaming directly into someone's ear was the only way to be heard.
Hearing the shout, the team captain raised his wrist and opened his hand to gauge the gale overhead.
The instant he exposed his palm, the sheer force of the gale shoved his arm backward uncontrollably, as if an invisible prybar were forcing it down.
His expression darkened. In conditions like this, standing up was a guaranteed ticket to getting blown into the horizon.
Their only hope of survival was to crawl flat along the frozen earth and scout for any burrow holes left behind by the local Cautus. If there were none, they would have to find whatever shelter they could and start digging straight into the soil.
After that, all they could do was pray to whatever gods were listening for a sliver of luck.
As for crawling out of the disaster zone on foot...
If this were an ordinary storm without an spike in ambient Originium density, they might have stood a chance.
But this was a true Catastrophe. The howling winds carried sharp, jagged particles of Originium, turning the air into a hail of deadly, high-velocity shrapnel. The sheer speed of the dust meant that standing tall was an open invitation to acute Originium particle poisoning.
They were down to a single option for survival.
The captain closed his eyes, hastily recalling the topographic map etched in his memory, and pointed toward the front left.
If he remembered correctly, a natural basin lay in that direction—their sole refuge in this wasteland.
The remaining Operators fell into line, crawling flat against the barren ground toward the designated target.
A few agonizing minutes later, they dragged themselves to the edge of the basin, only for their eyes to fill with cold despair.
The natural hollow before them was completely choked with yellowish-brown crystals.
Active Originium.
The place they had pinned their hopes on was no refuge—it was an open mass grave. Worse still, tiny amber needles were already sprouting from the earth beneath their knees.
The Catastrophe had fully descended. The concentration of airborne Originium particles was skyrocketing by the second.
Every breath they drew was dragging them closer to a agonizing death.
The team captain racked his brain, desperately searching for a way out of this dead end, but the inescapable gale had funneled them straight into a lethal trap.
This Catastrophe was set to swallow them whole, without a trace.
Just as total despair took hold, a sudden, jarring quiet fell over them.
The wind simply stopped.
One second ago, the gale overhead had been so violent it was impossible to keep their eyes open.
The next second, the howling storm vanished without a trace.
It was as if the world had suddenly been muted.
Ding-a-ling...
As a team captain, Jianshi knew that sound by heart. It was the soft chime of a beast-of-burden's harness bells. He instinctively raised his head toward the sound and spotted a covered carriage parked just a short distance away.
The other Operators pushed themselves up in a daze, staring around the barren plain with wide, disbelieving eyes.
A translucent, shimmering blue dome enveloped the carriage and their squad like a giant inverted bowl.
Outside the barrier, the Catastrophe raged on with unabated fury, but inside the dome, the air was as still as a quiet room.
The Catastrophe hadn't ended—it was being forcefully held at bay by this mysterious carriage.
"Are you from Rhodes Island?"
While the squad was still recovering from the shock, the driver—a woman dressed in a crisp black suit—turned and called out from her seat.
"That's right! We're a Rhodes Island field team," Captain Jianshi replied, stepping forward. "I'm Team Leader Jianshi."
"Since you're with Rhodes Island, get in," Remilia's voice drifted out from inside the carriage cabin. "We happen to be heading to Rhodes Island to visit a friend anyway. We can give you a ride."
Despite the offer, the Operators remained frozen in place, their eyes locked on the carriage with guarded caution.
"Don't worry, we're not enemies," Flandre's voice chimed in, guessing the cause of their hesitation. "I'm acquainted with Mr. Logos and Ms. PITH. Our friend is Eirin Yagokoro—she should have returned to Rhodes Island alongside Logos and the others a while back."
Hearing those names, the team's tension eased significantly.
Rhodes Island wasn't a world-famous organization, so why would a master magic caster capable of blocking a Catastrophe suddenly show up claiming to be a visitor?
At this point in time, any Operator stationed in the field possessed absolute loyalty to the landship. Learning that a powerful stranger was heading their way didn't make them celebrate their rescue; it made them worry about potential threats to their base.
Thankfully, Flandre's words instantly put their doubts to rest.
Logos's standing within Rhodes Island went without saying.
And while Ms. Eirin Yagokoro had only returned from Reunion alongside him two months ago, her contributions to Rhodes Island's medical division during that short span were undeniable.
She hadn't just pulled several critically ill Infected back from the brink of death; she had also established a comprehensive treatment framework that could reliably stabilize and ease the progression of severe Oripathy.
Though she hadn't been with Rhodes Island for long, Ms. Eirin Yagokoro had already become a foundational pillar of their medical staff, second only to Kal'tsit herself. Even Warfarin, who had been personally recruited to Rhodes Island by Kal'tsit, held her in the highest regard.
Since these travelers were friends of Eirin Yagokoro, the team had no reason to stay on guard.
However, a somewhat awkward problem immediately presented itself.
With four people already seated inside the carriage, there was only enough room to squeeze in two more at most. But there were six field Operators in total.
How were they supposed to fit?
As the squad stood there eyeing the carriage in awkward silence, Flandre leaned out and pointed toward the draft beasts pulling the rig.
"You can ride on the beasts!"
The Operators blinked, realizing the obvious solution.
These sturdy beasts-of-burden possessed incredible stamina. Beyond pulling heavy loads, their broad, padded backs could comfortably carry two riders each.
The carriage was pulled by a pair of beasts.
That meant four people could ride on the beasts' backs, leaving just two to step inside the cabin.
Jianshi glanced over his teammates, then back at the carriage. He motioned for the two female Operators in his squad to take the seats inside the cabin, while the remaining male Operators climbed onto the beasts outside.
Entering a carriage occupied entirely by women would have been improper for a bunch of rough, weathered field scouts anyway. It was fortunate they happened to have two female team members along for the mission, saving them from a very uncomfortable situation.
The heavy curtain of the carriage cabin was pulled aside.
The moment the two female Operators caught sight of the passengers inside, they froze dead in their tracks, their expressions instantly hardening.
Sitting inside the carriage were four people—and three of them possessed the unmistakable, unmistakable traits of Blood Demons.
The strangers who had just saved them from a lethal storm were... Blood Demons.
Had the strangers not explicitly dropped the names of Logos and Eirin Yagokoro moments earlier, the two Operators would have turned on their heels and bolted right back into the storm.
Dying in a Catastrophe was death, and getting torn apart by Blood Demons was also death, but at least getting swallowed by a storm didn't come with the horrors of being drained dry.
Even knowing that the passengers inside were technically allies...
Three Bloodfiends sitting in one carriage?!
Who wouldn't be terrified out of their wits?