Mondstadt City, Angel's Share Tavern.
A tall, handsome young man with red hair stood with his arms crossed, eyeing the unexpected guests before him with a scrutinizing gaze.
The leader of the group, Venti, smiled and said: "Boss, we need somewhere discreet."
The tavern owner, a young man named Diluc, replied calmly: "There are discreet spots, of course. The second floor is less crowded."
"Hehe, much appreciated, boss. Shall we head up?"
"Wait a moment."
Diluc called out to them, his eyes narrowing slightly: "Mondstadt's security came by the shop just now. They said there were thieves in the city and that they were searching for the culprits."
Venti played innocent: "Is that so? How dangerous. Has Mondstadt become this unsafe?"
"Has it?"
Diluc said without any particular inflection: "Incidentally, according to the description they gave, the characteristics of those thieves seem to match all of you rather well."
Venti opened his mouth to argue.
"Venti, leave it. There's no point hiding it."
Ji An shook his head. Diluc's words had been carefully noncommittal, but it was clear he had already worked out who they were. And he seemed like an unusual person. He knew they were thieves, and yet his manner toward them remained relatively easy.
Still, if they kept dancing around it, they risked exhausting his patience.
---
Between all of them chiming in, they laid out the full story for Diluc.
Ji An spread his hands: "So that's the situation."
Venti had made the introductions, and Ji An now understood that this was the wealthy young man Mona had mentioned, the owner of Dawn Winery, whose name alone was enough to make her grind her teeth with envy.
Diluc was quiet for a moment, then said: "I'll say this much. I have a certain respect for the nerve it takes to steal the Skyward Lyre. The Knights of Favonius have been timid and ineffective in dealing with Stormterror, and their posture toward the Fatui has been weak and overly cautious."
Ji An found this slightly puzzling. From Diluc's tone, it sounded as though he had a serious grievance with the Knights of Favonius. But by any normal logic, shouldn't a region's most prominent family and its governing body be on good terms?
"In any case, I won't dwell on that."
Diluc shook his head: "You still haven't answered my actual question. Why steal the Skyward Lyre?"
Ji An, Lumine, and Paimon all turned to look at Venti.
Venti spread his hands: "Ah, very well. I suppose I'll perform that story one more time."
---
After Venti finished his performance, Diluc sat in prolonged silence.
"That narrative poem just now... what exactly was..."
He looked up at Venti, his gaze carrying a weight that was difficult to read: "This is no small secret. Why tell me all of this?"
Venti smiled: "Why indeed? Perhaps because the direction of the wind is changing."
"Interesting."
Diluc's gaze shifted to Ji An and Lumine.
"I heard that when Stormterror attacked Mondstadt, a man from Liyue and an outlander traveler averted the disaster. If I'm not mistaken, that was the two of you?"
Ji An and Lumine both nodded. There was no point in denying it now.
Diluc thought for a moment, then looked up: "I've decided to help. Come back tomorrow night after the tavern closes. There's someone I'd like to introduce you to."
---
That night, when Ji An and Lumine arrived and saw who was waiting for them, they both went still.
"Why is Grand Master Jean here?"
The guilt was immediate. After all, they had stolen the Skyward Lyre and been hunted across the entire city by the Knights of Favonius, and now they were standing face to face with the person in charge of all of it.
Jean was equally surprised to see them: "Mr. Ji An, and Traveler, what are you doing here?"
She looked at Diluc: "Senior, are these the people you mentioned who can use the Skyward Lyre to purify Stormterror?"
Diluc nodded: "This explanation touches on myth and legend, and it's difficult to believe on its face. Someone as principled as the Acting Grand Master might need convincing. Bard, perhaps you could perform one more time—"
Jean said: "I believe you."
Diluc stared at her.
He looked as though he wanted to say something along the lines of: that wasn't how this was supposed to go.
Jean sighed: "Dvalin, the Dragon of the East among the Four Winds, betraying Mondstadt was something I could never imagine a reason for. If it truly happened the way the story says, then everything makes sense."
She looked at Ji An and the others: "As Acting Grand Master, under the diplomatic pressure from the Fatui, I cannot openly express goodwill toward Stormterror. But as Jean, I am willing to support your plan. If circumstances allowed, I would have wanted to join you."
She pressed a hand to her forehead: "A string of recent events has left me stretched very thin, I'm afraid. I won't be able to spare the time."
Ji An said with some awkwardness: "Is that partly because of us?"
"Only partly."
Jean sighed: "Last night, you 'borrowed' the Skyward Lyre. We won't dwell on that. Around the same time, the Snezhnayan Embassy suddenly caught fire. Our people attempted to investigate, but the Fatui blocked them and became hostile about it."
"An embassy setting itself on fire. I suspect it was self-inflicted, for reasons unknown."
Diluc gave a cold snort: "What scheme are they running now?"
Jean shook her head: "I'm concerned they may use the incident as a pretext for something larger, so I've had the Knights gathering whatever information they can."
She paused.
"There's also another matter that has been weighing on me considerably."
Jean's expression turned serious: "Senior, Ailin came to me and told me she witnessed a strange young man using Favonius Bladework in the training ground."
Diluc raised an eyebrow: "Favonius Bladework? As far as I know, only you and a handful of other knights have mastered it. If this person isn't a Knight of Favonius, he shouldn't have access to it at all. Could he have learned it from someone in secret?"
Jean shook her head: "That's not it."
Diluc frowned: "Why are you so certain? Even if you follow the rules and haven't taught anyone privately, can you guarantee that none of the other knights have passed it on?"
"It isn't about that." A strange light appeared in Jean's eyes as she said slowly: "The reason I know he didn't learn it in secret is because that person has mastered the true Favonius Bladework."
"You mean..."
Even Diluc's usually composed expression shifted: "Someone has inherited that knight's legacy?"
"Yes."
Jean relayed what Ailin had described, then continued: "I went to the training ground and examined the dummies cut by that young man. I can say with complete certainty that what he used was true Favonius Bladework. Not the version we practice."
"No matter how faithfully a technique is preserved and passed down, no matter how meticulous the records, something is always lost with each generation. What reaches us is never quite the original."
A look of quiet longing settled on Jean's face: "Mondstadt's two great sword techniques were both created five hundred years ago. Arundolyn, the Lion of Light, and Rostam, the Boreas's Pup. Two geniuses in the same era."
"Arundolyn's technique demanded too much raw strength. Only the most exceptionally gifted could even attempt it, and so it died with its line. What has been passed down to us is Rostam's Favonius Bladework."
"Although I have studied it and reached a level of real skill, every time I practice, I feel as though I cannot quite reach its true core. Something is always just beyond my grasp."
Jean drew the sword at her waist and looked at the blade thoughtfully: "If I could find the person Ailin described, and have him show me even once. Even if I had to beg him to teach me, I would be willing."
"I'll have my people help search for this person as well."
Diluc nodded. As a fellow swordsman, he understood that feeling entirely. To have trained for years without breaking through, and then to suddenly discover that the answer might exist somewhere close at hand, was a temptation no swordsman could simply set aside.
Neither of them noticed the increasingly complicated expression developing on Ji An's face.
Oh no.
He was sure there had been no one around when he demonstrated the swordsmanship. How had someone seen him?
And whoever it was apparently knew enough to recognize Favonius Bladework, and had gone straight to Jean about it.
This was a problem.
Hearing Jean's words, he was genuinely torn about whether to admit he was the person in question.
Out of goodwill toward Jean, he was actually willing to fulfill her wish. It wasn't a particularly big ask.
But the same issue arose as with previous simulation rewards. Ji An had no way to explain where he had learned Favonius Bladework, and he deeply disliked unnecessary complications.
He decided quietly: he would handle it after the Mondstadt situation was resolved. Before he left, he would find a way to grant Jean's wish.
---
After Jean and Diluc finished their discussion, the conversation returned to the Skyward Lyre.
Diluc asked: "Now that we have it, can we summon Stormterror?"
"Rosewood with flowing wind patterns, cool iron strings... how nostalgic."
Venti ran his fingers along the Skyward Lyre with an expression of distant memory.
Jean and Diluc exchanged a glance and said nothing.
Venti looked at Lumine: "Traveler, would you drop the purified dragon tears onto the strings? The wind held within them can reawaken the lyre, whose power has long been spent."
Lumine nodded, raised her palm, and two azure dragon tear crystals rose and floated in the air before her.
She guided them down onto the strings.
The Skyward Lyre's glow began to grow.
Jean murmured softly: "The lyre looks... like it has a youthful glow."
Paimon gasped: "The Grand Master is praising herself!"
Jean flushed: "I was talking about the Skyward Lyre!"
Ji An said: "Paimon, do you know there's a price for making puns?"
Paimon: "Huh? What does that mean?"
Diluc shook his head and moved past it: "In any case, this means we can summon Stormterror now?"
"Haha."
Venti smiled: "Absolutely. And I've already chosen the right place for it."
Ji An asked: "Where?"
"Sea breezes and high winds carry a poet's song further than anything. I think a place called Starsnatch Cliff would be perfect."
---
Starsnatch Cliff.
Paimon looked at the scenery spreading out around them and said: "This place is really beautiful."
Although she was already stretched thin, Jean had come along regardless, with Diluc beside her, in addition to Ji An and the others.
"Alright, everyone step back. The world's finest bard is about to play."
Venti walked to the cliff's edge and drew the lyre.
His fingers settled on the strings. A beautiful melody drifted out and carried into the distance.
Then, all at once, something changed.
The flow of the wind shifted.
A moment later, the great wind dragon rose from below the cliff, its wings beating against the air.
The gale it brought was powerful enough to make it difficult to keep one's eyes open.
"It's you..."
Stormterror Dvalin's enormous eyes flickered with an eerie inner light, fixed on Venti at the cliff's edge.
"At this point... there is nothing left to discuss."
Venti looked up at it with a quiet expression: "Is that so? Am I wrong? Your eyes look as though they remember this song."
Hearing this, something moved in Dvalin's ancient eyes. A conflict that was hard to name.
"Dvalin..."
Venti felt its hesitation and let his voice soften further.
Then, without warning, a blast of energy thick with corruption struck Venti from the other side of the wind dragon.
He couldn't dodge it in time. The lyre was hit and fell from his hands to the ground.
Paimon cried out: "The busker, are you hurt?!"
Diluc's eyes fell on the small, hooded figure and his brow furrowed: "An Abyss Mage?"
The Abyss Mage let out a sharp, mocking sound: "Don't be deceived by them, poor dragon. They..."
Boom.
Boom, boom.
Two gunshots rang out before it could finish.
"Ugh..." The Abyss Mage stared down at the two holes in its body in disbelief.
Everyone turned instinctively to Ji An, who was lowering his gun and blowing a thin curl of smoke from the muzzle.
"Cough. I've had run-ins with things like that before. I acted on instinct."
He said this with some sheepishness. As he spoke, he raised his hand again and took aim at the hooded creature.
"The... Abyss... will not forgive this..."
The Abyss Mage shuddered. Clutching its wounds, it retreated behind Dvalin's body: "Dragon, we're leaving!"
Roaaaar!
Dvalin: "Are these people here to hunt me? Were they with you all along?!"
Venti said helplessly: "No, that's not it at all!"
The wind dragon had heard enough. With a thunderous roar, it swept the Abyss Mage up and disappeared into the sky.
"Tch. Ran off fast."
Ji An lowered his gun with a frown.
"Dvalin..."
Venti watched its retreating silhouette and sighed.
Jean stepped forward: "Ba... Lord Venti, are you all right?"
Venti smiled faintly: "Haha. You've both likely already guessed who I am by now, haven't you? Jean, Master Diluc?"
Both of them nodded.
Venti looked down at the lyre in his hands and sighed: "It's broken now. It can't be used anymore."
He looked at Jean: "I'm sorry for the damage to the Skyward Lyre."
Jean smiled: "Lord Barbatos, this was originally yours. Why apologize to us?"
Venti rubbed the back of his head: "Well, I did leave it in your care. It seems right to return it properly. People will be worried about it."
While they were talking, no one noticed the faint flicker of purple light in the distant grass.
---
Mondstadt City, Favonius Cathedral.
Jean led Ji An, Lumine, and Venti inside.
A young girl in a pastor's uniform was waiting nearby.
Jean walked over and began the introduction: "This is the church's representative responsible for the Skyward Lyre, Prayer Sister Barbara... hmm?"
She stopped. Something about the atmosphere felt off.
Barbara's cheeks were puffed out, and her eyes kept sliding toward Ji An, Lumine, and Paimon in turn. When they landed on Ji An in particular, she ground her teeth, as if she very much wanted to bite him.
Jean asked, puzzled: "Barbara, do you know Mr. Ji An and the others?"
Ji An immediately said: "No. A girl as beautiful, kind, and lovely as Miss Barbara, if I had ever met her, I could never have forgotten."
"..."
Barbara held the silence for a moment, fixed Ji An with a glare that could have cut glass, and said with extreme deliberateness: "We have in-deed nev-er met."
The way she said it, word by careful word, made it obvious to anyone paying attention that something had very much happened between them.
Jean was puzzled but could hardly press them when neither wanted to elaborate.
Venti held the Skyward Lyre out to Barbara: "Returning this to its rightful home!"
To spare the feelings of those who cared deeply about it, he had quietly cast a spell to make the lyre appear as good as new. Barbara noticed nothing wrong.
"Oh, the Skyward Lyre!"
Barbara's eyes lit up. She cradled it carefully and headed toward the alcove where it was enshrined.
Jean, who knew the truth, pressed a hand to her forehead and said nothing.
Venti smiled to himself.
Plan complete.
He leaned over and murmured: "I'm not sure how long the spell will hold. We should go."
With that, he slipped out the door first.
Paimon: "Hey, busker, wait for us!"
Paimon: "Traveler, come on!"
Lumine nodded and followed.
Ji An was about to do the same.
"You. Wait a moment."
Something caught his sleeve.
It was Barbara, who had come back, cheeks still puffed out, eyes fixed on him with clear intent.
Ji An cleared his throat: "Miss Barbara, is something the matter?"
Barbara said in a huff: "What do you think? You haven't even apologized for what happened."
---
At that very moment, outside the Favonius Cathedral.
Venti and Lumine had just stepped out when they found themselves in sudden danger.
Two Debt Collectors erupted from the ground on either side of them, blades gleaming as they swung.
Paimon shrieked: "Watch out!"
Venti and Lumine barely dodged, both visibly shaken. Neither had expected this. An open attack in broad daylight, right outside the Favonius Cathedral.
Before either of them could react further, a single sharp snap of fingers cut through the air.
The temperature plummeted.
A sudden gale surged from nowhere, carrying biting ice and snow, and slammed into Venti and Lumine with enough force to make it hard to stand.
"Ah..."
Venti turned to look at the woman approaching at an unhurried, swaying pace.
He tried to call on his power to push back the freezing wind.
In the next moment, he found his feet encased entirely in ice.
His expression changed. He pushed the wind against it. Only a few chips of frost fell away.
Signora walked toward him, her tone carrying a quiet contempt: "Giving up the rule of Mondstadt, and this is all the power the great god has left..."
Venti gritted his teeth: "And the power you use to mock me, did you borrow it from your master?"
Signora's eyes cooled to something dangerous. She raised her hand and flicked her wrist.
Venti was swept up by the icy wind and flung backward.
Signora followed without hurrying. She extended her right hand toward his chest.
"Barbatos. Feel for yourself what it means to have your heart torn open."
Her voice was calm. And yet beneath it lay something layered and impossible to name.
Her hand pressed through Venti's chest. Where it made contact, a brilliant green light pulsed.
She withdrew her hand slowly.
Resting in her palm was a small, precisely formed, faintly luminous green object, oblong and smooth, shaped like a chess piece.
"Ugh..."
Venti pressed a hand to his chest and crumpled weakly to the ground.
"So this is a Gnosis." Signora looked down at it with undisguised contempt. "It doesn't look like much."
Venti smiled faintly from the ground: "Perhaps that reflects your taste more than anything else."
Signora turned and walked back toward him.
She raised her hand. The Cryo power pulled back, and in its place the power of the Crimson Witch of Flames surged forward, coiling around her palm like something alive.
A cold smile touched the corners of her lips: "Barbatos. Have you ever felt what it is to burn—"
A voice came from above, quiet and steady.
"Stop this, Rosalyne."
Signora went rigid, as if struck.
Her hand stopped where it was and did not move.
Impossible.
Confusion, disbelief, and something small and fragile that might have been hope all moved across her face at once.
She spun around.
Her eyes found the person standing on the cathedral roof.
In that single look, she lost all composure entirely.
The Gnosis slipped from Signora's hand and fell to the ground. She didn't notice.
At this moment her eyes held nothing but the figure on the roof.
He wore a mask. His clothes were unlike anything she remembered. But none of that mattered.
Rosalyne could not mistake him. Not in a thousand years.
"Rostam..."
She opened her mouth. Just forming the name took everything she had.
Crystalline tears, exactly like those of the stubborn, crybaby girl she had once been, filled her eyes without warning or permission.
The figure on the roof gave her a small nod, then turned and leaped away into the distance.
"Wait... wait for me!"
Rosalyne's heart ignited. Forgetting everything else, she went after him.
-------
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