Amber was laying out a careful plan when Fischl let out a delighted little laugh.
Violet eyes brightened. She lifted her hand; Electro crackled at her fingers like a queen claiming the field.
"Why skulk?" she declared. "This trial is what fate has bestowed!"
Her cloak snapped in the temple breeze. She tipped her chin toward Kairo. "Know this—my Thunder of Judgment already hungers! The omens are clear; the shadow here shall be purged!"
Lumine, Amber, and Paimon: "???"
They traded looks, unsure how to answer.
Oz fluttered, helpful as ever. "Her Highness suggests we stop circling and charge."
"Charge?!" Paimon squeaked, staring at the hulking Mitachurls with fire axes and greatshields. "That's a lot of big guys!"
Amber's bow was not made for scrum work, and even Lumine would get nicked if they waded straight in—
Kairo only smiled and flicked both wrists.
You're the Brightest!—Sampo's trickster technique—flared.
Twin blooms of white detonated across the packed mobs. Light hit like hammers; the hall flashed to noon.
"Awuu—?!" Hilichurl archers dropped their launchers, clawing at their eyes and staggering into one another. Shields collided with shields; clubs swung blind; chaos avalanched through the ranks.
"Ah-hahaha! Thus is fate's war!" Fischl sang. She drew and loosed; Electro braided her arrows, purple arcs hopping target to target.
"Judgment's bolt—descend!"
Twang—whip— An arrow cored a rocket Hilichurl; another skated lightning into a shield wall; a third stitched a line through three at once.
"This is… too easy," Paimon breathed, wide-eyed.
"What is that skill?" Amber blurted, already turning to Kairo. "You just… waved."
"A little visual problem," Kairo said lightly. "Don't stare—shoot."
"R-right!"
Amber snapped fire to string. Pyro tipped her shafts; she and Fischl rained ruin while the blinded mob reeled.
Lumine lowered her sword, a faintly helpless smile tugging at her mouth. For a moment, there was nothing left to do.
Fischl rode the rhythm, cheeks flushed, every arrow a verdict. Oz ghosted above, sparking lines of Electro to her marks.
"Rejoice! Darkness breaks at dawn's decree!"
One by one the Hilichurls fell. Silence collected in the rafters.
Fischl eased her bowstring with a satisfied hum. "As foretold—victory is ours."
"…She means, 'Nice work,'" Oz translated.
Everyone: "…"
Paimon's eyes glittered. "Kairo, your power is amazing! You make anyone look strong. If you teamed up with Lumine, fighting would be effortless!"
Lumine blinked—then felt something quick and warm skip in her chest. The memory of that offhand flick, a whole army losing its sight, and how simple the clean-up became…
With him, the wilds would be—lighter.
What are you, exactly? Not Anemo. Not any Vision's pulse. Something else.
Amber's gaze shone. "Both of those abilities are a scout's dream! One to move faster; one to stall enemies—perfect for ambushes and retreats." She grabbed Kairo's shoulder, words tumbling. "When we're done, would you join the Knights of Favonius? Partner up with me on missions?"
The air hiccuped.
Before Kairo could answer, Fischl's expression froze. Her eyes widened; her arms crossed; her cheeks puffed.
"No."
She planted her boots and lifted her chin, cloak flaring like a banner. "My loyal vassal marches at my side!"
Amber stared. "Huh?"
"Abandon thy poaching, o covetous knight!" Fischl declared, eyes alight with I-knew-you-would-try energy. Lightning ticked at her fingers as if seconding her claim. "Kairo stands among those who steer destiny's prow—he shall journey with me!"
"…Her Highness means: Kairo is her adventuring partner," Oz supplied gently, "and she declines transfer requests."
Kairo huffed a laugh despite himself. Possessive, are we?
Paimon tapped her chin, thoughtfully. "Adventuring partner, huh? Then—what if we get Lumine registered with the Adventurers' Guild? We could all take commissions together."
"Not a bad life," Kairo said, and flicked a finger to boop Fischl's forehead.
"Eep." She clapped a hand to the spot, scowling—then preening when Amber chuckled.
"Alright, alright," Amber relented. "If you change your mind, the Knights' doors are open."
Fischl tilted her nose up, smug, as if she'd just defended a throne room.
"Back to business," Lumine cut in, eyes turning toward the depths. "Our target's ahead."
They moved on. With Ripple, You're the Brightest!, and I Want to Help, Too layered in at need, progress was quick and clean. Electro laced the high angles; Pyro bloomed in wider bursts than Amber remembered—ever since Kairo's curious "tuning" of her bow, her explosions carried a fiercer after-echo she couldn't name. Lumine's blade felt lighter, clearer, small wind-edges whisking off her swings.
With Kairo… The thought came unbidden, and Lumine didn't push it away.
The corridor spat them into a dead end—a chasm yawning where a bridge had once been. The torn stubs of stone jutted like broken bones.
Paimon spun in place. "Uh-oh. No bridge. Do we fly?"
"I can carry one at a time," Lumine said, "or set up a wind field… slowly."
"Or," Amber said, already scanning, "we use that."
Her finger found a Pyro Monument—an old pillar veined with a flame sigil. Weathered, cracked, but intact.
"It's a mechanism," she said, drawing a burning arrow. "Let me light it."
"Shouldn't it be Anemo in here…?" Paimon wondered.
Thunk—WHOOM— The arrow sank true. Fire ran the grooves like molten glass; the sigil flared.
Far below, gears woke. Crack— Wind roared up the shaft, coalescing into a stable updraft that spanned the gap like an invisible bridge.
"Yes!" Paimon whooped, pinwheeling in the gust. "We can glide straight across!"
Amber planted fists on hips, grinning. "Scout's intuition. Nailed it—"
"Wait." Lumine's voice tightened. She pointed at the pillar. "The monument… is cracking."
"What?!" Amber whirled.
The Pyro Monument—so famously durable that even constant weathering rarely marred them—now spider-webbed with fresh, black fissures. Grit flaked from its face; hairline seams raced outward from the glowing core.
"That—that shouldn't happen," Amber stammered, stepping close. "These things don't break from being activated." Her eyes flicked from the angry light to her own bow—then to Kairo.
The updraft thundered, stronger, harsher—like a gale hooked to a fraying valve.
Something in the temple had woken to their touch—and it did not like to share.
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