"Humph. Mortals cannot hope to divine the revolutions of fate."
Fischl lifted her arm in sovereign flourish, violet eyes bright. "Since my loyal vassal has yet to return, I shall personally traverse this place and trace his steps."
Oz sighed and translated, wings shivering with habit. "Her Highness means: she's going in to look for Kairo."
"Then let's hurry!" Paimon piped—only for the portal to whisper and part.
Kairo stepped out, calm still clinging to his features from whatever thought had delayed him. He met Fischl's startled stare.
"Hmph…" The princess snapped her head aside with practiced dignity, a tiny cough disguising the concern she'd just broadcast to everyone.
Kairo blinked once. "…Shall we?"
"Right," Amber said, pointing south. "Next stop: the Temple of the Lion of the South—Lisa's side."
They set off—except Kairo paused, flicked his hand, and a pale-blue ripple washed through the group like rings across a pond.
—Ripple activated.
Everyone felt light—steps quickened, air itself seemed to lean in and help. Lumine snapped up a palmful of Anemo; a windline gathered, and the whole team shot forward like loosed arrows—
"Wooooaaah—!" Paimon yelped as the acceleration peeled her off the slipstream. She pinwheeled, a helpless little comet. "Waitwaitwaitwait this is too fast—!"
Smack.
Face, meet tree.
She stuck there for a beat—limbs splayed like a tragic little wind-chime—then slooowly peeled off the bark and thumped to the grass. "Waaaah—ow ow ow ow ow!"
Amber and Lumine burst out laughing. Even Fischl's mouth betrayed a tiny, treacherous smile.
Oz hovered over the groaning fairy. "Your flight technique, alas, remains… improvable."
Paimon, sniffling, latched onto Lumine's tunic. "Nope. I'm towing, not flying. Paimon is not becoming a kite."
Lumine patted her head, resigned and fond. Kairo shook his head, amused.
With Anemo and Path power braided together, the world streamed by. Before long the Temple of the Lion of the South rose ahead—grand, battered, and waiting. Broken columns, lion-carved murals scoured by time, a half-open door like an invitation.
On a stone by the entrance sat Lisa, book in hand, purple motes dancing idly at her fingertips. She looked up as the team skidded in.
"My, my," she murmured, smiling. "Amber, Traveler… Did you already finish with the Temple of the Eagle of the West?"
"Yup!" Amber planted fists on hips, proud. "All done. We're here to back you up!"
Lisa closed her book, eyes flicking over the party—then lingering on their breathing, posture, the afterimage of speed. "You were… awfully quick. Temples aren't just a jog; there are monsters, mechanisms, sometimes old seals…" Her gaze slid southward. "By distance, you should've detoured to the Wolf of the North, yet here you are."
Amber's grin sharpened. She threw a thumb toward Kairo. "All thanks to him."
"Oh?" Lisa's smile turned curious as it found Kairo. "So our new friend is… a puzzle."
Amber hurried through the highlights: speed boons, weapon "tuning" that made Fischl and Lumine hit like ballistae, flashblinding entire packs so fights took seconds.
"In other words," she concluded, eyes shining, "Kairo's ability is the perfect combat support. Lisa, I think he'd be amazing in the Knights!"
Lisa chuckled, something bright under the lazy lilt. "What a delightful jack-of-all-assists. Sumeru to Liyue, I've rarely heard of someone who meshes with a team this seamlessly." Her glance warmed. "I've truly never seen anyone coordinate this well."
Kairo only smiled, not bothering to correct the label; he knew exactly how hard he hit alone. Lisa watched that quiet, weighed it, and stood, stretching like a cat. "Since you've come, let's not waste the momentum. I only just arrived—hadn't gone in yet." A web of Electro twined her fingers. "With your help, this will be a breeze."
They entered.
Different layout than the Eagle's temple; same population of Hilichurls and Slimes. With Kairo's I Want to Help, Too woven across their weapons, Fischl's Electro and Amber's Pyro detonations chewed straight lines through resistance; You're the Brightest! erased return fire before it began. Monsters folded in clumps; pathways opened like pages.
Lisa watched a pack implode under coordinated volleys and hummed, amused. "Goodness. It seems I'll hardly need to lift a finger today."
"Of course!" Paimon looped once in the cleared air, triumphant.
"Forward," Amber said, nodding toward a heavy stone door etched with Anemo lines. "Crystal should be just beyond."
In front of it sat a four-faced mechanism, inscriptions braided around an inert core. Amber hesitated, then—conspicuously—looked at Lisa. "Could… you do the honors?"
"Hmm? And why's that?" Lisa blinked, pleasantly puzzled.
Amber coughed, glanced at Kairo, Lumine, Fischl, then muttered, "We, uh… kind of broke a Pyro Monument in the last temple. Accidentally."
Lisa's grimoire paused mid-swing. "…Pardon?"
Amber grimaced. "Kairo's boost added a… destructive rider to our attacks. We lit the mechanism and… overdid it. Cracked it right through." She smiled weakly. "Yours won't have that additive, sooo… safer?"
Lisa's eyes went half-lidded with interest. "Elemental monuments are remarkably hardy relics. Even mages struggle to damage them." She tipped her head at Kairo, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "You lot do collect surprises. I regret not joining you earlier."
Fischl, chin high, wore the look of someone who finds victory perfectly natural. Lumine sighed; Paimon bobbed agreement.
"Very well." Lisa touched a finger to the core. Electro spilled like silk.
Thrum. The heart lit; glyphs came alive; blue lines ran to the door.
Grnn—clack. Stone sighed, parted, and a cool Anemo glow spilled through. In the chamber beyond floated another Stormterror Crystal, breathing wind into the ruin.
"Break that and we can all go home," Lisa said sweetly. "Amazing how the promise of a nap fills one with vigor."
They volleyed—Pyro and Electro braided, Anemo unspooled—and the crystal cracked, raged, and died. The storm guttered to silence.
"Dragon of the East. Lion of the South. Wolf of the North. Eagle of the West…" Lisa's voice softened. "They are Mondstadt's four winds—favored by Barbatos."
She looked at the wreckage, sadness briefly veiling her eyes. "Dvalin—that is Stormterror's true name. Before he was called 'dragon,' he was the East Wind, one of the four. He borrows the other three's power because he no longer holds his own entire share. From the start… he's been burning himself out."
"Why?" Lumine asked quietly. "Why go that far?"
"I suspect… hate," Lisa murmured, pinching her chin. "A hatred of Mondstadt."
"Using hate as fuel—stronger than wind—until he becomes a monster…" Paimon frowned. "But if he was our guardian, why would he hate the city he protected?"
"As a Mondstadter, it's… hard to say aloud." Lisa hesitated, then passed a book to Lumine. "Here. A tale from a hundred years ago."
Lumine nearly dropped it. "It's… thick."
"Winds Among the Woods — Vol. II," she read on the cover, blinking. "Not volume one?"
"One step at a time," Lisa teased. Then she turned toward the exit. "Let's go."
She strolled to the portal. Amber, Paimon, and Fischl all—quite pointedly—looked at Kairo.
He chuckled. "Alright. I won't hold us up this time."
Last time's delay had been a star in his pocket. This time, he stepped with them—
—and as the portal's light climbed their boots, a faint, wrong note quivered through the mechanism they'd just awakened. Not a crack—more like a tuning fork catching a frequency it shouldn't.
Lisa's head tilted, lashes narrowing. "...Did you feel that?"
Kairo glanced back. On the threshold, the mechanism's core pulsed once, faint as a heartbeat—then went still.
Someone—or something—keeps listening when his Path stirs.
To be continued…
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