"Bullshit! I'll kill you right here!"
With Kaeya's fiery temper, how could he tolerate Schubert's arrogance?
But the moment he moved, a ring of Lawrence Clan soldiers raised their rifles, black muzzles aimed squarely at his head.
"…Snezhnayan firearms?"
Staring at the dark barrels, Kaeya froze.
Right now, protecting Jean mattered far more than cutting down Schubert.
Even if Kaeya was confident he could kill Schubert under a hail of gunfire, doing so would mean that both he and Jean would die here today.
Snezhnayan firearms—descendants of Khaenri'ahn technology—had long plagued the other six nations.
After being redesigned and upgraded by the Prince of Snezhnaya himself, their power now surpassed anything else in Teyvat.
A single hit to a vital area would instantly incapacitate even a Vision bearer.
The mysterious Prince of Snezhnaya was nothing short of a nightmare to the rest of the world.
Unparalleled scientific genius, coupled with terrifying foresight and patience—
no wonder he stood above the Eleven Harbingers and enjoyed the Tsaritsa's singular favor.
Today, both Jean and Kaeya had been completely outplayed.
The so-called compensation agreement was nothing but bait.
Yet Kaeya felt bitterly unwilling to accept defeat.
Half a year ago, Varka had led Mondstadt's main forces on an expedition to the northern frontiers.
With the city's defenses hollowed out, the Fatui had seized their chance.
Jean stared at the towering flames outside the windows, her ears filled with screams and frantic shouts.
Each gunshot felt as though it pierced her heart.
Seizing power always meant bloodshed.
Every shot likely meant another life lost.
Her heart ached—and she knew Schubert was telling the truth.
The Knights of Favonius headquarters had likely fallen already. Otherwise, reinforcements would have arrived by now.
Still, Jean was no stranger to crisis.
She forced herself to calm down.
"Prince of Snezhnaya," Jean said coldly,
"you secretly supported the Lawrence Clan's restoration and overthrew the Knights' rule. This is tantamount to Snezhnaya declaring war on Mondstadt—violating the peace covenant established between our gods."
"The other five nations will not stand by. A coalition will soon move against Snezhnaya."
"And once news spreads that Mondstadt has fallen, reinforcements from across the land will rush here. You won't last the night."
True to Varka's judgment, Jean struck directly at the heart of the matter.
Schubert's confidence wavered at once.
Even with the Prince present, how could they withstand pressure from five nations?
All eyes turned toward the figure seated on the sofa.
Severin sipped his tea calmly.
"Outside of those present here, the world will only know that the Lawrence Clan has returned."
"Mondstadt's fall has nothing to do with the Fatui—nor with Snezhnaya."
"This is an internal struggle for power. A coup."
Jean shot back immediately,
"Do you think the world is blind? The Prince of Snezhnaya arrives in Mondstadt, and this happens at the same time—Snezhnaya cannot wash away the suspicion."
Severin smiled faintly.
"Jean, that is precisely why I used the compensation agreement to lure you here."
"The Lawrence Clan can hold the Son of Heaven hostage to command the lords—and you, the famed Dandelion Knight, are Mondstadt's 'Son of Heaven.'"
"The forces outside the city will hesitate to attack, fearing harm to you."
"Next, the Lawrence Clan only needs to imprison you and issue orders in your name. Stability will follow."
Jean's composure finally cracked.
"Mondstadt's people will never accept the Lawrence Clan! They'll rise up and resist!"
"Jean," Severin replied calmly,
"have you forgotten another name for this city?"
"The City of Freedom."
He dismantled her resolve piece by piece.
"Free people. Free wills. Free laws."
"But without the Knights of Favonius to rally and command them, Mondstadt's citizens—long accustomed to freedom—are nothing more than scattered sand."
"They'll protest for a few days, shout themselves hoarse… and then return to their lives."
"Without the Knights, daily life won't change much. They'll adapt quickly to a Mondstadt without you."
"We shouldn't belittle ourselves—but neither should we overestimate our importance."
"The world keeps turning, no matter who is gone."
Jean's face drained of color.
She had no rebuttal.
Mondstadt prided itself on freedom, yet centuries of laxity had bred deep reliance on the Knights.
Without that guiding 'brain,' the people would lose unity and direction—
like headless flies crashing about.
That was the price of freedom.
What Severin described was likely the truth.
A few days of unrest. Then surrender.
Jean could barely remain standing, bracing herself against the wall as darkness swam before her eyes.
"Prince of Snezhnaya," she asked hoarsely,
"what do you really want from Mondstadt?"
"The Anemo Gnosis."
Only Jean could hear those words.
Kaeya, Schubert—none of them heard a thing.
Severin had used divine power to isolate the sound.
Jean, as Mondstadt's highest administrator and de facto proxy of Barbatos, had the right to know the truth.
Even if Severin hid it now, Barbatos would tell her eventually.
A bitter smile touched Jean's lips.
She finally understood—the tide was unstoppable.
Severin had been dispatched by the Tsaritsa to seize Barbatos's Gnosis, with the Cryo Archon herself backing him.
A struggle between gods was far beyond her comprehension—
far beyond her ability.
If the Lawrence Clan's restoration was the Tsaritsa's will, only Barbatos himself could oppose it.
But where was the Wind Archon…?
In truth, during the decades of Barbatos's absence, even Jean had doubted whether he had abandoned Mondstadt.
Severin spoke again, almost casually.
"Jean, you still owe me an apology—for the sword you drove into me two years ago."
"You plot rebellion and still demand an apology?" Jean snapped.
"I should have killed you back then."
With nothing left to lose, she no longer restrained herself.
"Mondstadt has the Four Winds! You may force the people to yield, but you'll never make the Knights of Favonius submit!"
She stood tall, resolute—
a stark contrast to the composed, elegant Jean who usually governed from her office.
This iron-willed version of her possessed a different kind of beauty.
Catching Severin's unusual gaze, Jean demanded,
"What are you looking at? I will never apologize."
"Nothing," Severin chuckled softly.
"I was just thinking—this is the true bearing of the Dandelion Knight."
His sudden praise unsettled her.
At the mention of the Four Winds, he hadn't reacted at all.
"What are you trying to say?"
"Dvalin and Andrius will not come."
"I broke from the delegation on the way to Mondstadt precisely to secure them in advance."
"Despicable," Jean spat.
"You were plotting against Mondstadt from the very beginning!"
Her voice trembled on the edge of collapse.
This was despair she had never known.
"Jean," Severin said quietly,
"even Barbatos avoids the edge of Snezhnaya's will."
"You are merely an acting Grand Master. Why force yourself?"
"If you cooperate, I will guarantee your safety."
He pressed further—testing the limits of her resolve.
Jean gazed longingly at Mondstadt beyond the window, then turned back, eyes blazing.
"For Mondstadt, I will never allow your scheme of holding the Son of Heaven hostage to succeed!"
With that, Jean suddenly drew her sword—
and turned it toward her own throat.
She tried to take her life.
Severin struck instantly, knocking her unconscious.
As she fell, he caught her in his arms.
Ignoring Kaeya's furious shouts behind him, Severin sent a strand of divine will into Jean's mind.
When she awakened, she would hear these words—
"Congratulations, Jean. You have passed the trial.
This was the final wish of your mentor—the 'Knight of the North Wind,' Grand Master Varka."
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