The city of Mondstadt buzzed with life under the golden glow of the setting sun, its cobblestone streets alive with the sounds of celebration. The Wind Dragon crisis had been resolved, Teucer restored as the Guardian of the Four Winds, and the people of Mondstadt had taken to the streets in a joyous uproar, their voices rising in a chorus of cheers and laughter. Banners of the Knights of Favonius waved in the breeze, the Anemo Archon's symbol gleaming in the fading light, a beacon of hope and freedom. The air was filled with the scent of fresh bread, roasted meat, and the sweet tang of dandelion wine, vendors setting up stalls to offer food and trinkets to the celebrating crowd. Children darted through the streets, their laughter mingling with the sound of lutes and flutes as bards played melodies of victory, their music a tribute to the heroes who had saved their city.
At the heart of the celebration, the Angel's Gift Tavern stood as a warm haven, its wooden walls adorned with ivy and lanterns that cast a soft, amber glow over the cobblestone plaza outside. The tavern's sign—a golden chalice with wings—swayed gently in the breeze, its creak a familiar sound to the citizens of Mondstadt. Inside, the atmosphere was electric, the air thick with the scent of ale and the hum of conversation as the Knights of Favonius and their allies gathered for a well-deserved celebration banquet. The wooden tables were laden with platters of food—roasted boar, mushroom skewers, and piles of sticky honey roast—while barrels of dandelion wine lined the walls, their contents flowing freely into the mugs of the revelers.
Xander sat at a table near the bar, his cloak draped over the back of his chair, the Shadowfang Blade resting against the wall beside him. His recent upgrade to A-level had left him feeling invigorated, his senses sharper, his movements more fluid, a vibrant blue aura still lingering faintly around him. The title of Honorary Knight of the Knights of Favonius, bestowed upon him by Jean, was a symbolic honor, but the real reward—five million Mora—had been a welcome bonus, a testament to his pivotal role in the battle against Teucer. He sipped his cider, his gaze sweeping over the tavern as he took in the scene, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
Jean stood near the center of the room, her blue cape draped over her shoulders, her Anemo Vision glowing faintly at her waist. Her blonde hair was slightly disheveled from the day's events, a few strands escaping her tight ponytail to frame her tired but radiant face. She held a mug of juice, her attempt to stay sober thwarted by Lisa, who stood beside her with a mischievous grin, her Electro Vision glowing at her hip, her witch's hat tilted at a playful angle. "Come on, Jean, just one more sip!" Lisa teased, her voice a sultry purr as she poured another glass of dandelion wine, her golden eyes sparkling with amusement.
Eula sat at a table nearby, her silver-blue hair shimmering like frost in the lantern light, her Cryo Vision glowing at her hip. She nursed a glass of wine, her icy demeanor softened by the warmth of the celebration, though her sharp blue eyes still scanned the room with a hint of wariness. Ying sat across from her, her golden eyes warm with the glow of the lanterns, her blonde hair shimmering as she sipped a glass of juice, her youthful appearance barring her from the wine despite her protests. Paimon hovered beside her, her starry cape fluttering as she munched on a piece of sticky honey roast, her cheeks puffed out with food as she mumbled complaints about being treated like a child.
The tavern door creaked open, and a green head poked in, twin braids swaying as Venti stepped inside, his teal eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hey, why didn't you wait for me if you're having a banquet?" he called, his tone a playful whine as he adjusted the lyre slung across his back, his Anemo Vision glowing at his waist. The room fell silent for a moment, the revelation of Venti's true identity as Barbatos, the Wind God, still fresh in everyone's minds thanks to Paimon's earlier slip. The image of their god as a carefree, fishing bard had shattered their faith in a traditional deity, but the people of Mondstadt, ever lovers of freedom and romance, quickly embraced the idea of a god who drank and celebrated alongside them.
Rosalia, leaning against the bar with a glass of wine in hand, raised an eyebrow at Venti, her fishnet stockings and white slime-themed outfit a stark contrast to her nun's habit. Her expression was one of mild confusion as she spoke, her voice a low drawl. "Oh, it's the Wind God… Bass, Barto?" she said, her attempt at his name drawing a collective wince from the room.
Barbara, standing nearby in her blue and white deaconess outfit, her Hydro Vision glowing at her waist, quickly corrected her. "Miss Rosalia, it's not Basbatos—it's Barbatos," she said, her tone gentle but exasperated, her hands clasped in front of her as she tried to maintain her composure.
Rosalia blinked, her expression unchanged as she tried again. "Oh, got it—Bartlebas," she said, her second attempt even worse than the first.
Barbara sighed, her shoulders slumping as she muttered, "Oh, dear…" The rest of the room exchanged amused glances, a collective thought running through their minds: She's really a nun and can't even get her own god's name right?
Xander, however, was distracted by another figure at the bar—Diluc, known to some as Earl Lulu, the "Batman of Mondstadt." The red-haired man stood with his arms crossed, his Pyro Vision glowing at his waist, his dark coat and gloves a stark contrast to the festive atmosphere. His expression was stoic, his crimson eyes distant as he nodded to Xander, his voice low and measured. "Xu Hao, thank you for your help with the Wind Dragon crisis," he said, his tone formal but sincere. "If you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me."
Xander waved a hand dismissively, a grin tugging at his lips. "It's a small matter—I work for Mora, after all," he said, his tone light. But as he looked at Diluc, a pang of sympathy stirred in his chest. He knew the man's history—how Diluc had once been a passionate member of the Knights of Favonius, his Pyro powers a beacon of hope for Mondstadt. But the death of his father, Crepus, at the hands of a Fatui Delusion, and the Knights' subsequent cover-up, had shattered Diluc's faith in the organization. He had left the Knights, his heart hardened by betrayal, and now protected Mondstadt in his own way, operating in the shadows as the city's Darknight Hero. The slumped, cat-like expression on Diluc's face spoke volumes, a silent testament to the weight he carried.
Xander's thoughts were interrupted by Rosalia's voice, her tone laced with confusion as she addressed him directly. "Um, we don't know each other—why are you crying?" she asked, her brow furrowing as she studied him, her wine glass tilted in her hand.
Xander blinked, realizing that tears had welled up in his eyes—not from sadness, but from a mix of nostalgia and amusement at seeing Rosalia in person. Her fishnet stockings, her white slime-themed outfit, her unapologetic attitude—it was all so quintessentially Rosalia, a character he'd admired for her unorthodox charm. He wiped his eyes with a laugh, his grin widening as he replied, "It's nothing—just… really happy to meet you, that's all."
Rosalia raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical, but she shrugged and took another sip of her wine, muttering, "Weird guy…"
The banquet continued into the evening, the tavern filled with laughter and song as the Knights and their allies celebrated their victory. Jean, despite her best efforts, succumbed to Lisa's insistence and ended up slightly tipsy, her cheeks flushed as she laughed at a joke Lisa whispered in her ear. Ying pouted at her glass of juice, her attempts to sneak a sip of wine thwarted by Barbara, who kept a watchful eye on her. Paimon, meanwhile, stuffed her face with food, her complaints about being treated like a child muffled by mouthfuls of sticky honey roast.
As the night wore on, the crowd began to disperse, the Knights and their allies heading back to their homes to rest after the long day. Venti, Ying, and Paimon left together, the bard humming a tune as they stepped into the cool night air, the stars above twinkling in a clear sky. Xander lingered behind, his gaze drawn to the night sky as he sensed a presence—a cold, fiery aura that radiated with malice, its focus locked on Venti.
A slight smile played on Xander's lips as he murmured to himself, "Finally, she's going to make her move. A heart-wrenching drama, huh?" He waited a moment, ensuring the trio was out of sight, before quietly following, his movements silent as he slipped through the shadows of Mondstadt's streets. He knew what was coming—Rosalyn, the Lady, was about to confront Venti, her hatred for Barbatos driving her to a moment of vengeance that would shake the city. Xander's strength, now at A-level, would disrupt the scene if he intervened too soon, so he decided to observe from a distance, waiting until Rosalyn had her moment before stepping in. This is Teyvat's biggest drama yet, he thought, his grin widening. I can't miss it.
The streets of Mondstadt were quiet now, the celebration winding down as the city settled into a peaceful slumber. But beneath the surface, a storm was brewing, the flames of vengeance igniting in the heart of a former Mondstadt witch. The winds of freedom had returned, but the shadows of the past were far from gone, and the night was about to take a dark turn.
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