They stepped out of the temple in a whirl of light.
"Mm. Uncannily smooth," Lisa said, eyes half-lidded as she gauged the air. "The Anemo flow is calmer than before. Not as wild as around Mondstadt itself, but still… it was bad."
"So we head to the Temple of the Wolf of the North next?" Paimon rubbed her little hands together, already buzzing. "We've cleared the Eagle and the Lion—one more to go and—eh?"
Her voice cut off. She stared upward, mouth open.
Everyone followed her gaze. The iron lid of clouds that had sat over the plains all day was thinning—then rolling back, layer by layer. A warm orange wash poured through and painted the fields and walls gold. The storm didn't die so much as lift, like a weight taken off a chest; the air went from feverish to fresh in a breath.
"Looks like Kaeya beat us to it," Lisa smiled. "No need to visit the Wolf's temple after all."
"For real?!" Paimon spun, delighted. "Does that mean we can go home?"
Amber and Lumine traded a relieved look. The temples hadn't been hard with Kairo around, but effort was still effort.
Across Mondstadt the shout went up almost at once.
"The storm's gone!"
"Look—the sky's back!"
Stalls that had been shuttered banged open. Children pointed at the sunlight like they'd discovered treasure. Skeptical voices tried their best—Stormterror can't be that easy to kill; it's only temporary; the Knights must've hit the source;—but the relief was too loud to argue with.
Back at the temple gate, Lisa stretched lazily. "The storm's eased, but Stormterror hasn't. Let's head back, rest, and regroup."
"Hmph! As foreordained by destiny, the worldline has tilted toward the light!" Fischl set hands on hips, violet eyes shining. "In the tangled hour where shadow and gale entwined, we plunged into the abyss and laundered the dregs of the storm in thunder! Now the tyrant wind grows still—by my command!"
Oz floated by her shoulder with a longsuffering flap. "Her Highness means: mission accomplished; time to rest."
Lumine and Paimon shared a look… and a tiny, helpless smile. They were beginning to understand the "secret" of the so-called princess.
Kairo, meanwhile, kept his face neutral and his thoughts noisy.
No reward. Still. He rolled the idea around, annoyed. I've walked beside Fischl long enough. If the system mirrors Seele, this is where "Phantasm" would unlock. Nothing. Maybe he needed a sharper trigger; maybe the bond wasn't "flagged" deep enough; maybe the stupid system wanted drama.
He shelved it. When the trail's cold, stop chasing the ghost.
"Back to Mondstadt," Lisa sang, already strolling.
"Finally," Amber exhaled. "That run went even smoother than I pictured—"
"Thanks to Kairo!" Paimon jumped in, starry-eyed. "Could you keep traveling with us if you're free? Pretty please?"
Lumine's gold eyes warmed; she didn't say it, but the answer was in her look.
"If I'm free, sure," Kairo said, easy. "Let's move."
They started down the path. A lazy breeze met them, and Kairo flicked two fingers.
Ripple rolled out—light as breath, sure as tide.
Lisa's eyes sharpened. "My, my… again? Is that ability without cost?"
Even Vision holders paused between bursts; you couldn't pull elemental power forever. A Vision was a converter, not a miracle—if no element threaded the air to draw on, you were out. And even when the world was rich with it, body and mind still paid a toll.
But Kairo didn't pull on the elements at all. He'd been throwing out buffs like candy since morning, with no paleness, no drift in his step. No drain.
Where does that power come from? Lisa wondered, a thoughtful smile hiding the calculus behind her eyes. And how deep does the well run?
By the time they crested the last rise, twilight honeyed the walls of Mondstadt. Hops and roasted meat scented the streets. Laughter had elsewise replaced alarm.
"They're back!"
"The stormbreakers!"
The gate guards' cry rippled through the crowds. Heads turned; hands went up; the little tide of people rolled to meet them.
"Amber!"
"The Traveler and Paimon!"
"Lady Lisa came out herself?"
"And Her Highness—er—Fischl returns! Surely she split the tempest with thunder!"
Fischl straightened three centimeters and stared soulfully into the middle distance like she was posing for a tapestry. Oz sighed and translated the essence—yes, it went well—and the crowd, increasingly fluent in "Fischl," nodded along.
"Is it over?" someone called out. "Is Stormterror… dealt with?"
"The storm around the city is gone—did you slay the dragon?"
Amber raised both hands and her voice. "Everyone—please rest easy! The source of the storm was destroyed. Mondstadt won't be battered again. Return to your homes and work; the Knights will handle what's next."
A beat. Then joy punched the air.
"Back to business!"
"Finally, I can hunt; we were almost out of meat!"
Kids swarmed Lumine with a barrage of questions. Paimon hammed it up, painting their fights in broad, heroic strokes; the oohs and aahs stacked like building blocks. For a moment the city felt like itself again.
Amber didn't linger in it. "We still need to report to Acting Grand Master Jean," she said to the team. "If anyone needs help, find the Knights."
Lisa nodded. "She should still be at headquarters."
"Wait—there," Paimon said, pointing.
In the plaza ahead, Jean stood with her back to them—talking to a woman in black and gold with a diplomat's posture and a soldier's eyes. A Fatui.
They walked up in time to hear the tail of the sentence:
"…and that is our position," the woman said coolly, arms folded. "If Mondstadt cannot immediately suppress its dragon problem, it should cede city defense to the Fatui."
"If we are permitted to hunt that beast—"
"'Beast'?" Jean's voice sharpened. "Lady Anastasia, mind your words."
Anastasia's smile didn't touch her eyes. "Oh? And what would the Acting Grand Master prefer I call it?"
Jean inhaled, leveled her tone. "I expect a professional stance from your embassy. You propose to 'handle' one of Mondstadt's Four Winds? I will not entertain such madness before the Knights."
"Heh." Anastasia flicked an imaginary speck from her sleeve. "Let's call today's exchange… candid. Constructive." Her gaze slid—found Amber, Lumine, Lisa, Fischl—stopped on Kairo. "Ah. Kairo. We meet again."
Her smile turned sprightly, almost teasing. "You haven't joined the Knights, have you? The Fatui welcome talent. Our doors are open."
She dipped her head and glided off, leaving a wake of murmurs like smoke.
Kairo pinched the bridge of his nose. Great. Top-tier eye-drops right in front of everyone. Being the guy no faction "fully" trusted… meant moments like this.
"Mr. Kairo. Traveler." Jean turned, relief and gratitude breaking through her fatigue. "Thank you. With your help, the flows around the city are steady again."
Fischl lifted her chin. "Our saga has entered its next canto. What tribute does Mondstadt render its salvific cohort?"
Oz: "She means: do we get paid."
Amber choked on a laugh.
Lisa, though, was still watching Kairo. "About earlier," she said lightly, as if she'd only just remembered. "You've been casting that speed boon freely, and still look fresh as dew. Does your Path power consume anything at all?"
Paimon perked. "Oh, oh—good question!"
Kairo considered. How to answer without answering? "It's not an element," he said, honest enough. "It doesn't drain the way Visions do."
Lisa's eyes curved. "Mmm. Not the same… but not free, either. Everything costs something. If not body or breath… then what?"
He flashed a non-answer of a smile. Lisa accepted it with a hum that promised the topic was not, in fact, closed.
Around them, the city buzzed—alive, relieved, ready to believe in tomorrow. And yet…
Kairo felt it—a faint, out-of-tune shiver in the air, identical to the misnote he'd sensed at the temple door. Like a tuning fork struck miles away, vibrating in his teeth for a heartbeat. There, then gone.
Jean hadn't missed the undercurrent either. "Enjoy the respite," she said quietly. "But keep your gear close. Stormterror still lives—and the Fatui rarely speak without aiming."
"Let them aim," Fischl declared, cloak snapping. "The bowstring of fate is drawn; Her Highness shall sever every false line and—"
Oz: "She means: we'll be ready."
Kairo's pocket felt heavier for no reason—a reminder of a reward that hadn't come, of a system that waited for some unseen switch to flip.
So what do you want from me? he thought at the quiet city, or the quiet thing riding along its winds. A bigger choice? A sharper knife?
A shadow crossed the tower clockface as the sun slid lower. Out past the walls, a long, distant note sounded—a flute, barely there, like someone testing a melody not meant for public ears.
Paimon shivered. "Did you hear…?"
Lumine looked at Kairo.
He was already looking back at her.
To be continued…
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