On the way to the Grand Bazaar, I made a decision.
A terrible one.
A decision so catastrophically unnecessary that even I could feel the universe sigh in advance.
"By the way," I said casually, walking slightly ahead of him with my hands behind my head, "are you excited to see your future tiny mom?"
He walked in silence for three full steps.
Four.
Five.
Then he looked at me.
"…My what?"
"Your mom," I repeated cheerfully. "She's totally cute. Totally small. Totally radish."
There was a pause.
The kind where the brain reboots.
"…My mother is a vegetable?" he asked flatly.
I grinned at him with all the confidence of a man who absolutely deserves what's coming next.
"She absolutely is."
The smack landed immediately.
Lumine's hand connected with the back of my head with precision accuracy.
Not lethal.
But corrective.
"Stop traumatizing him," she said calmly.
"I am not traumatizing him," I protested, rubbing my head. "I'm building anticipation. There's a difference."
Paimon sighed loudly. "Why are you like this every single time?"
"Consistency builds trust."
Greg, who had long since abandoned my shoulders and relocated to Nilou's, flicked his tail twice and deliberately turned his head away from me.
He was ignoring me.
My own lizard.
Nilou adjusted slightly to balance Greg more comfortably and tried very hard not to laugh. "Maybe," she suggested gently, "we should introduce her in a less… vegetable-focused way?"
"I said radish affectionately," I defended. "It's a term of respect."
Wanderer—because that's what he is now—stared ahead like he regretted agreeing to walk with us.
"I don't recall having a mother," he said slowly. "And if I did, I'm fairly certain she was not… edible."
"That depends," I said thoughtfully. "Emotionally? Very nourishing. Spiritually? Excellent support stats. Also, technically, you have another mom."
He blinked.
"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "Another."
"Yes," I continued brightly. "Tall. Sword booba. Eternally composed but occasionally clumsy in the most catastrophic way. Drinks dango milk like it's a personality trait. Very much a mommy. Not always mother material."
Lumine's hand twitched.
I braced.
The smack came anyway.
"Stop describing people like that," she warned.
"I'm being accurate," I insisted. "If anything, I'm underselling the sword part."
Nilou cleared her throat gently. "Maybe we should focus on the present," she offered, tone calm but firm in that soft way only she can manage.
Lumine pinched the bridge of her nose.
I felt the glare without looking.
I value my life.
So I shut up.
For six seconds.
We walked through Sumeru City's warm sunlight, marketplace chatter flowing around us like a comfortable current. Children ran past. Merchants called out prices. Somewhere in the distance, someone argued passionately about spice ratios.
Normal.
Very normal.
Beside me walked a former Harbinger turned delivery assistant turned confused wanderer who may or may not soon meet the literal Dendro Archon.
And I was calling her a radish.
Perspective is important.
"You'll see," I said finally, softer this time. "She's… different."
"Different how?" he asked.
Nilou answered before I could.
"Kind," she said gently. "Very kind. But also wiser than she looks. She listens before she judges."
"Which is impressive," Paimon added, "because she looks like she knows everything already."
"She does," I said proudly. "Except how to stop me from talking."
Greg flicked his tail once in agreement.
Lumine elbowed me lightly.
I coughed.
"I mean," I corrected, "she chooses not to. Out of mercy."
Wanderer glanced sideways at me.
"You speak about her as though you're close."
I shrugged.
"She helped fix something I broke."
That got his attention.
His steps slowed just slightly.
"You broke something?"
"Several things," Lumine said under her breath.
"I heard that."
"You were meant to."
Nilou giggled quietly.
Greg made a small approving chirp.
Traitor.
We turned toward the path leading to the Grand Bazaar.
The colorful canopies came into view first, fabric banners swaying gently in the breeze. Music drifted faintly from somewhere within, lively but warm.
Wanderer stopped when he saw the entrance.
"This place again…" he murmured.
"Grand Bazaar," Paimon announced dramatically. "Home of performances, art, and occasionally Shigeru buying snacks he absolutely doesn't need."
I gasped. "Slander."
Lumine looked at me.
I immediately straightened.
"…Responsible purchases only," I amended.
Nilou smiled. "Mostly."
We approached the merchant's cart first.
Wanderer stepped forward, expression composed.
He lifted the basket slightly and set it down carefully.
"Here you go, Boss," he said evenly. "I'll leave them right here."
The merchant looked up from counting Mora.
"Oh, you really went to pick more…" he muttered approvingly, then noticed us lingering a short distance away.
His brows knit together.
"Hmm? Who are these three?" he asked, gesturing vaguely in my direction and Lumine's.
"These four," Paimon corrected midair.
"And lizard," I added helpfully.
Greg flicked his tail but refused eye contact.
Wanderer clasped his hands loosely behind his back.
"Something's come up," he explained calmly. "They need to borrow me. I'm afraid I'll be away from the stall for a while."
The merchant studied him.
Then us.
Then him again.
"…Borrow you?" he repeated.
I gave him a thumbs up.
"Temporary emotional kidnapping," I clarified.
Lumine stepped on my foot.
Nilou leaned slightly toward the merchant. "We'll bring him back safely," she assured gently.
The merchant sighed deeply.
"I was just about to pay you anyway," he said, reaching into his pouch.
Wanderer immediately shook his head.
"That won't be necessary."
The merchant paused mid-motion.
"There you go again," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Refusing pay like Mora personally offended you."
"I told you," Wanderer replied, voice steady. "I only helped to repay your kindness. Nothing more."
The merchant snorted.
"Kindness? Kid, I let you sit under a tarp during a storm. That's not some life-debt contract."
Wanderer lowered his gaze slightly.
"It was enough."
Nilou's expression softened visibly at that.
The merchant studied him more carefully now.
"But look," he continued, softer this time, "it was pouring down that day. And there you were, just walking through the rain like it didn't matter. No cloak, no rush, no destination."
Wanderer said nothing.
"You weren't trying to get anywhere," the merchant went on. "And you sure didn't look like you cared about getting soaked. So tell me something. Why's a guy traveling during a rainstorm if he's not headed somewhere? And why take the open-country shortcut if you're not even in a hurry?"
Wanderer hesitated.
"…I don't know," he admitted quietly.
The merchant's shoulders relaxed.
"Exactly."
He waved a hand dismissively.
"Taking you in didn't cost me anything. You don't owe me your time. Your time's valuable, you know? Don't waste it hauling fruit around for an old man like me."
That word again.
Valuable.
Wanderer's fingers tightened slightly at his sides.
I noticed.
Nilou noticed.
Lumine noticed.
"…But I don't…" he began.
He stopped.
Looked at the cart.
At the stacked fruit.
At the bustling city around him.
Then he exhaled slowly.
"…No. You're right."
The merchant nodded once, satisfied.
"Then I suppose this is where we say goodbye," Wanderer said, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you again for taking me into the city."
The merchant waved him off, though his expression had softened.
"Don't mention it, kiddo. I've run into all kinds of characters over the years. You're one of the quieter ones."
He gave him a pointed look.
"Find your path. Don't just drift through someone else's."
Wanderer held his gaze for a long second.
"…Thank you."
The merchant gave a small grunt of acknowledgment and turned back to rearranging his stall.
And just like that—
It was over.
I watched that exchange carefully.
No manipulation.
No edge.
Just… human.
When Wanderer turned back to us, there was something quieter in his expression.
"…Alright," he said. "I'm done. Thanks for waiting."
He said it like we had done him a favor.
Nilou smiled gently. "Of course."
I almost bought all the Sunsettias out of emotional impulse.
Lumine's eyes flicked toward me.
Sharp.
Warning.
I lowered my hand slowly.
Wise decision.
I choose life.
We stepped away from the cart.
For a moment, none of us spoke.
Then I clapped my hands once.
"Great," I said brightly. "Step one complete. Step two—introduce you to your radish mother."
Another smack.
I deserved that one.
"Use her name," Lumine warned.
"I will," I said. "Eventually."
Wanderer exhaled.
"I still don't understand why you're so certain she's connected to me."
Nilou looked at him gently.
"Because sometimes," she said softly, "even if memories disappear… relationships leave impressions."
He fell quiet as Paimon floated closer to him.
"She helped you once," she said. "A lot."
"And you helped her too," I added.
He looked at me, suspicion and curiosity mixing in his expression.
"…Helped how?"
I tilted my head. "You chose something difficult."
"That's not an answer."
"It's a spoiler-free summary."
Lumine stepped beside him, steady as ever. "You made a decision to change," she said simply. "And she gave you the space to."
He processed that quietly. I could practically see the gears turning.
"So this radish—" he began.
"Archon," Lumine corrected.
"—Archon," he amended carefully, "is someone important."
"Yes," Nilou said.
"Very," Paimon added.
"Emotionally and politically," I confirmed.
He stared at me. "You are the least reassuring person in this group."
"I am the morale booster."
"You are chaos."
"Tomato, tomahto."
We reached the inner plaza of the Grand Bazaar, music drifting from the stage area where dancers practiced in the corner. The scent of spices and fresh bread mingled in the air, wrapping the whole place in color, life, and warmth.
I slowed my steps because this is where it changes—not dramatically, not explosively, but quietly.
He stood beside me, looking around with measured calm. "…So," he said, "where is she?"
I smiled faintly. "She's probably thinking three steps ahead of us."
"And five steps ahead of you," Lumine added.
"That's unfair but accurate."
Nilou shifted Greg slightly as he adjusted his position, clearly content to remain on Team Responsible. "Are you nervous?" she asked Wanderer gently.
He considered the question before answering. "…I don't know."
That honesty—that quiet uncertainty—is new.
I stepped forward and gestured grandly. "Welcome," I declared, "to the beginning of your emotionally confusing but ultimately wholesome arc."
Lumine smacked me again.
I grinned. Worth it.
Because beneath the teasing, beneath the radish jokes, beneath my relentless idiocy, there's something simple.
He deserves this chance.
And if I have to get smacked twelve more times to make sure it happens properly, I'll take it.
But I'm still calling her a radish in my head.
Respectfully.
***
The moment we stepped into the Sanctuary of Surasthana, I did what any respectful, composed, well-mannered guest would do.
I walked in like I owned the place.
To be fair, I don't technically own it. But spiritually? Emotionally? Volume-wise? Absolutely.
"Little radish!" I announced at full emotional volume, because subtlety has never once been my brand.
Lumine inhaled sharply behind me.
Too late.
Nahida had been standing near one of the floating branches of Irminsul's light, hands folded behind her back, humming softly to herself as motes of green shimmer drifted lazily around her. She turned at the sound of my voice, blinked once, and in that one blink I could already see Lumine calculating how much damage control she was about to perform.
And before anyone could stop me, I scooped Nahida up like a sack of very sacred vegetables and placed her on my shoulders.
"We're back," I declared proudly. "And we brought your kid."
Silence.
Heavy. Sacred. Echoing slightly because apparently even architecture disapproves.
Lumine facepalmed.
Paimon double facepalmed.
Nilou sighed the sigh of a woman who made a life choice and now lives with it daily, though there was the faintest smile tugging at her lips.
Greg, perched comfortably on Nilou's shoulders, didn't even look in my direction. He slowly blinked instead, which in lizard language translates to: I have detached myself from this situation.
Nahida, for her part, adjusted her balance naturally as if this was not the first time I had casually hoisted the Dendro Archon like decorative headwear.
"…Hello, Shigeru," she said patiently, one small hand resting lightly against my hair so she didn't topple backward.
Then her gaze shifted past me.
To him.
Wanderer stood a few steps behind, posture straight, hands relaxed at his sides. Composed. Guarded. Observing every detail of the Sanctuary as if committing it to memory.
He bowed.
"…Hello," he said quietly. "I apologize for the sudden intrusion."
See?
Polite.
He would never have bowed like that before. The old version would have evaluated the room for structural weaknesses first.
Character development tastes delicious.
Paimon floated forward, hands gesturing wildly. "We found this guy in the street," she explained rapidly. "But he doesn't seem to remember anything. So yeah. Quite an eventful walk."
"Very eventful," I added. "There was fruit. Emotional revelations. Lizard betrayal. At least three smacks to the head. Possibly four."
Greg flicked his tail once from Nilou's shoulder without looking at me.
Accurate.
Nilou stepped forward gently, offering Nahida a small reassuring smile. "He seems… calmer," she said softly. "Different. But not lost."
Nahida's eyes sparkled with gentle curiosity. "I see," she murmured.
Did she?
Maybe.
Maybe she just nodded to stop me from narrating the entire walk in unnecessary detail.
Which I was about to do.
"In summary," I continued anyway, because self-restraint is theoretical, "we found Hat Guy helping a shop owner with Sunsettias like a surprisingly responsible member of society. I teased him about vegetable-based motherhood. Lumine nearly assassinated me with her palm. Nilou remained divine. Paimon panicked. Greg defected. And now we are here."
Paimon crossed her arms. "That is not a proper summary!"
"It captured the emotional highlights," I defended.
Nahida nodded slowly, clearly filtering chaos from content. There was a faint look in her eyes that said she understood exactly thirty percent and was graciously allowing the other seventy to exist.
She folded her hands together thoughtfully and addressed Wanderer.
"You say you are trekking across Teyvat to train yourself," she said gently. "Many Inazumans who describe themselves in that way call themselves shugenja. Why do you refer to yourself as a wanderer?"
Wanderer considered her without hostility, only evaluation.
"It seems more relevant in my case," he answered. "A wanderer sounds like a plant with no roots."
I tilted my head.
"Radish joke opportunity detected," I whispered.
Lumine elbowed me before the joke could hatch.
I shut up.
Mostly.
"These two claim that they know me," Wanderer continued evenly. "That I have a hidden past unknown even to myself."
Nilou's gaze softened. She shifted slightly so Greg wouldn't slide off her shoulder, her fingers absently smoothing along his back. "We're not here to overwhelm you," she said gently. "Only to help you understand."
Nahida hesitated slightly.
"I wouldn't call it the past," she said softly. "Rather… this is difficult to explain."
That was my cue.
I leaned forward slightly under Nahida's weight.
"Get ready," I told him cheerfully. "Most spoiler-revealing time of your life. Toughen up, Hat Guy."
"Shigeru," Lumine warned quietly.
I raised both hands in surrender. "I am emotionally supportive. In my own language."
Nahida exhaled.
"I don't like to rely on using terms like this often," she continued, "but in your case… it ought to be called a previous incarnation."
Paimon gasped. "Oh, like a past life?"
"Yes," Nahida nodded. "Something far more distant than the past. So far away that you cannot perceive it."
Wanderer's expression did not change, but something tightened faintly in his eyes.
"…What was I like?" he asked quietly. "In that previous incarnation?"
Paimon opened her mouth.
Closed it.
I opened mine.
Lumine's glare could have ended civilizations.
I closed it.
Nahida looked at him steadily. For a moment, no one spoke. Even Irminsul's glow felt quieter.
Wanderer gave a faint, almost humorless huff. "…I see. You want to tell me. But you can't bring yourselves to say it. I suppose that means I didn't have the most wonderful existence."
Lumine stepped forward slightly. "We're just thinking where to start," she said gently.
"If it's that difficult to talk about," he replied, "then I have no doubt it will be just as difficult to hear. But I'll handle it. Please. Tell me the truth."
Nahida's gaze softened.
"Is truth something you care deeply about?" she asked.
"…Yes."
The Sanctuary hummed faintly around us.
"Then I'll be straight with you," Nahida said.
The shift was immediate. No more teasing.
"In your previous incarnation, you did many things that would be considered evil. You nearly died because of what others did, and many died because of you. As a non-human being, you hated gods and humans alike."
Nilou's fingers curled gently against Greg's back.
Greg went completely still.
"You drifted from place to place," Nahida continued, "never able to settle. Even when you found status. Even when you found identity. You believed you were missing a heart."
Silence followed.
Not shocked. Not explosive. Just heavy.
Wanderer's gaze lowered slightly. "…I see."
No denial. No argument. Just acceptance of information.
"Actions rooted in persistence sometimes bear bitter fruit," Nahida said softly. "Sometimes, you must let parts of yourself go. Or you will never be happy."
I shifted my weight beneath her. For once, I didn't joke.
Because this part isn't funny.
Still, silence and I are not natural companions.
"So," I said lightly, softer than usual, "summary version. You were angry. You were powerful. You were very dramatic about it. Like… theatrical levels of dramatic."
Lumine sighed. "He was hurting."
"Yes," I nodded immediately. "That too. Extremely hurting. With bonus unresolved abandonment issues."
"Shigeru."
"Editing. I'm editing."
Wanderer looked up at Nahida again. "And this incarnation… what am I now?"
Nahida smiled gently. "That is something you must decide."
He stood there quietly, processing.
I studied him carefully. No arrogance. No biting sarcasm. Just consideration.
The hat was the same.
The eyes were not.
I finally broke the tension the only way I know how.
"Well," I declared, clapping once, "regardless of previous patch notes, welcome to Version 3.0. Hopefully less murder. More self-actualization. Slightly improved emotional processing. Same hat."
Lumine smacked the back of my head again.
Nahida laughed softly.
Nilou smiled warmly.
Paimon floated in small anxious circles. "Why are you like this during serious moments?"
"Because if I don't joke," I said quietly, "it gets too heavy."
That earned me a brief look from Lumine.
Greg flicked his tail once in what I chose to interpret as approval.
Wanderer looked at me.
"…You're insufferable," he said.
"Consistently," I replied proudly.
But beneath the grin, beneath the radish jokes, beneath the banner metaphors, there is something simple.
He asked for truth.
And he didn't run from it.
That alone tells me he's already different.
Nahida rested her small hands lightly against my head.
"I think," she said gently, "this is only the beginning."
Oh, it absolutely is.
________________
End of Chapter 167
Quests Completed:
*Escorted an amnesiac ex-Harbinger through public civilian life without triggering a single murder instinct. Progress.
*Introduced said ex-Harbinger to the literal Dendro Archon while actively calling her a radish. Survived.
*Carried a god on your shoulders during one of the most delicate reincarnation explanations in recent history. Diplomatic consequences pending.
*Delivered full "You Were Evil™" patch notes with 70% accuracy and 30% unnecessary flair. Acceptable ratio.
*Successfully resisted blurting out every traumatic detail in chronological order. Personal growth detected.
*Witnessed Wanderer request the truth instead of rejecting it. Emotional anomaly logged.
*Observed zero denial, zero rage, and minimal edge-lord behavior during identity reveal. Historic moment.
*Functioned as chaotic buffer between Divine Wisdom, Traveler Trauma, Floating Anxiety, and Former World Threat. Structural integrity maintained.
*Absorbed three corrective smacks from Lumine and one silent disappointment from Greg. All deserved.
*Unlocked Version 3.0 (Self-Determined Identity Update). Hat remains unchanged.
Rewards:
*Primogems: +167 (awarded for controlled chaos during divine disclosure).
*Friendship EXP +170 with Nahida — for trusting her to deliver truth cleanly.*Friendship EXP *+160 with Lumine — you didn't sabotage the moment (miracle).
*Friendship EXP +155 with Nilou — emotional stability maintained under pressure.
*Hidden Resonance EXP +?? with Wanderer — acceptance without hostility registered.
*+2 Lumine Head Smacks (Stacking, deserved).
*+1 Nahida Pat on Head (Divine Tier — Rare).
*+1 Greg Silent Approval (Minimal, but real).
*+30 Emotional Weight Carried Without Collapse.
*Debuff Removed: Immediate Harbinger Hostility.
*New Variable Activated: "Choice-Based Identity."
Achievement Unlocked:
"Told Him Anyway."
-Reveal the full truth of a previous incarnation without causing emotional detonation, combat escalation, or dramatic exit.