The midday sun hung high over Mondstadt, its golden rays casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets as Xander made his way to the city gates. The city of freedom was a vibrant tapestry of life, its streets bustling with activity despite the looming threat of the Abyss Order. Merchants hawked their wares in the central plaza, their voices a lively chorus against the backdrop of children chasing dandelions that floated on the breeze. The scent of fresh bread wafted from the bakery near the fountain, mingling with the faint tang of iron from the blacksmith's forge, where hammers rang out in a steady rhythm. Windwheels spun lazily on the hills outside the city, their orange petals a blur against the emerald grass, a symbol of Mondstadt's enduring spirit.
Xander's cloak billowed slightly in the breeze as he walked, the Shadowfang Blade at his side humming with a quiet power. He had just finished his lottery draw at the Windblume Inn, the rewards—a full set of Meidesike artifacts, a million useless Discoins, ten servings of Sweet Flower Stuffed Chicken, a Magic Power Up Card (B), and the Phantom Sword Simulation · Power Blade (A) skill card—still fresh in his mind. The Power Blade, a spectral greatsword projected by blue magic, had added a new dimension to his combat style, and he was eager to test it in the field.
As he turned a corner near the cathedral, he spotted Eula walking ahead, her tall figure unmistakable even in the crowd. Her silver-blue hair caught the sunlight, shimmering like frost, and her Cryo Vision glowed at her hip, a subtle reminder of the power she wielded. Her outfit, a mix of black and blue with gold accents, was both elegant and practical, her claymore strapped across her back, its blade shimmering with a faint icy sheen. She moved with a graceful determination, her posture rigid yet poised, a reflection of her noble upbringing and her unyielding resolve.
But as they walked, Xander noticed the hostile glances cast her way. Citizens whispered behind their hands, their eyes narrowing with suspicion and disdain. A merchant muttered something about "Lawrence scum" as they passed, while a group of children stopped their game to stare, their expressions a mix of curiosity and fear. Eula's face remained impassive, her icy blue eyes fixed ahead as she chatted with Xander, her voice steady despite the weight of the stares.
"It seems you've had a hard time these years," Xander said, his tone sympathetic as he glanced at the people around them. "The surname Lawrence has caused you a lot of trouble."
Eula shrugged, her expression a mask of indifference. "What can I do? This is fate. I've long since grown used to it," she replied, her voice calm but tinged with a quiet bitterness. As a descendant of the Lawrence Clan, a family that had once enslaved Mondstadt during its tyrannical rule, Eula bore the weight of her ancestors' sins. Despite never having committed any wrongdoing herself, the name Lawrence was a stain that followed her everywhere, a mark of shame in the eyes of the city's people.
Xander studied her for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "You say that, but I don't think you've truly accepted it," he said, his tone gentle but probing. "If you had, you wouldn't have joined the Knights of Favonius. Someone as strict as Jean wouldn't have accepted you without seeing your dedication. You've worked hard to change how people see you—and the Lawrence name."
Eula's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before she masked it with a scowl. "Hmph, you see through me too easily," she muttered, her tone a mix of annoyance and grudging respect. "I'll remember this grudge." Her signature line, delivered with a dramatic flair, drew a laugh from Xander, the sound echoing through the street.
Eula's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her scowl deepening as she added another mental tally to her list of grievances against him. "You're insufferable," she grumbled, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Despite her words, there was a warmth in her tone, a sign of the camaraderie that had begun to form between them.
They reached the city gates, where Jean was already waiting, her blue cape billowing in the breeze. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her tired face, her Anemo Vision glowing at her waist. She stood with a quiet authority, her sword at her side, her gaze fixed on the horizon as she mentally prepared for the mission ahead. A few minutes later, Ying and Paimon arrived, Ying's golden eyes filled with determination, her blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight, while Paimon hovered beside her, muttering about her "emergency food" nickname.
With the group assembled, they set out for the Stormterror's Lair ruins, the path winding through the rolling hills of Mondstadt's countryside. Unbeknownst to them, a small figure in green trailed behind, his movements stealthy as he kept his distance. Venti, the Anemo Archon in disguise, tugged at his braids, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. "This is a bit troublesome," he muttered to himself, his voice a soft whisper on the wind. "It's too different from my plan."
Venti had intended to steal the Skyward Harp that night, using its power to summon Teucer and attempt to communicate with his old friend. He hoped to use his "language of influence"—a bard's gentle persuasion—to free Teucer from the Abyss Order's control. But with Xander and the others heading to the ruins now, his plan had been thrown into disarray. If they tried to kill Teucer—or if Teucer, still under the Abyss's influence, killed them—Venti would have no choice but to intervene. For now, he followed at a distance, his green cape blending with the foliage as he kept a watchful eye on the group.
The journey to the Stormterror's Lair ruins was a familiar one for Xander, the same path he'd taken from Liyue to Mondstadt. They traveled west from Clear Springs Town, passing through the Blue Wind Highlands, the landscape a breathtaking expanse of green fields and distant mountains. Dandelions floated on the breeze, their seeds catching the sunlight like tiny stars, while the faint roar of Cider Lake's waterfalls echoed in the distance. The road near Stone Gate was rugged, its dirt path winding through a canyon channel that led to the ruins. The air grew heavier as they approached, a palpable sense of dark magic lingering like a storm cloud.
The canyon was dotted with Qiuqiu camps, their crude tents and bonfires scattered across the rocky terrain. The creatures, a mix of archers, shamans, and brutes, chattered in their guttural language, their wooden masks glinting in the sunlight. "Just a group of small fry," Xander said, his tone casual as he drew the Shadowfang Blade. "Let's clear them out—I've been itching to try my new weapon."
Jean nodded, her Anemo Vision glowing as she drew her sword. "Agreed. We can't afford any delays—let's make this quick," she said, her voice steady.
Eula stepped forward, her claymore shimmering with Cryo energy. "I'll take the lead—consider this vengeance for slowing us down," she declared, her tone sharp as she charged into the nearest camp. Ying followed, her Anemo powers swirling as she summoned a vortex to pull the Qiuqiu archers together, her sword flashing as she struck with precision. Paimon hovered above, shouting encouragement. "Go, Ying! Show those Qiuqiu who's boss!" she cheered, her tiny fists pumping in the air.
Xander activated the Phantom Sword Simulation · Power Blade, the spectral greatsword materializing in his hand with a shimmer of blue magic. The blade was massive, its glowing edge crackling with energy, its weight perfectly balanced in his grip. He teleported into the fray, the Shadowfang Blade in one hand and the Power Blade in the other, his dual-wielding style a whirlwind of destruction. He slashed at a Qiuqiu brute with the Shadowfang Blade, its dimensional energy cutting through the creature's wooden shield like paper, while the Power Blade followed with a heavy strike, the blue energy sending the brute flying with a burst of force.
The Qiuqiu camp erupted in chaos, the creatures scattering as the group's combined attacks overwhelmed them. Jean's Anemo powers lifted the shamans into the air, her wind blades slicing through their defenses, while Eula's Cryo strikes froze the archers in place, her claymore shattering them with a single blow. Ying's vortexes pulled the enemies together, her sword a blur as she dispatched them with precision, her Anemo energy swirling around her like a protective storm.
Xander teleported behind a Qiuqiu shaman, its staff glowing with Pyro energy as it prepared to summon a fireball. He struck with the Power Blade, the spectral greatsword cleaving through the shaman's staff and sending it crashing to the ground. The creature let out a guttural cry, its mask splintering as it fell, the fireball fizzling out harmlessly. "Not bad," Xander muttered, a grin tugging at his lips as he admired the Power Blade's destructive force. The weapon's heavy strikes complemented the Shadowfang Blade's precision, making him a formidable force on the battlefield.
The group made quick work of the Qiuqiu camps, their teamwork seamless despite the short time they'd spent together. As the last enemy fell, its body collapsing in a heap of ash and broken wood, Jean sheathed her sword, her breath heavy but her expression resolute. "Good work, everyone," she said, her voice steady. "Let's keep moving—the ruins aren't far now."
They continued through the canyon, the path narrowing as they approached the Stormterror's Lair ruins. The landscape grew more desolate, the vibrant fields giving way to crumbling stone towers and shattered pillars, their surfaces etched with ancient Anemo sigils that glowed faintly in the afternoon light. The air was thick with the scent of decay and dark magic, a palpable tension that set everyone on edge.
Eula walked beside Xander, her expression pensive as they neared the ruins. The battle had given her a moment to reflect on their earlier conversation, and she found herself speaking before she could stop herself. "You were right, you know," she said, her voice softer than usual. "I haven't accepted my fate—not really. Joining the Knights… it's my way of proving that I'm more than my family's name. But some days, it feels like no matter how hard I fight, the shadow of the Lawrence Clan will always be there."
Xander glanced at her, his expression thoughtful. "It's a heavy burden to carry," he said, his tone gentle. "But you're not alone in this, Eula. The Knights—Jean, Lisa, Amber, Kaeya—they see you for who you are, not your name. And the people of Mondstadt… they'll come around eventually. You're already changing their minds, one mission at a time."
Eula's eyes softened, a rare vulnerability crossing her face before she masked it with a scowl. "Hmph, you're too good with words," she muttered, her tone a mix of annoyance and gratitude. "I'll remember this kindness—and I'll hold a grudge for making me feel so… exposed."
Xander chuckled, the sound a warm contrast to the desolate surroundings. "I'll take that as a compliment," he said, his grin widening as Eula rolled her eyes.
Jean, walking ahead, overheard their exchange and smiled to herself. Eula's journey to redemption was a difficult one, but she was proud of the progress her friend had made. "We're almost there," she called over her shoulder, her voice steady. "Stay sharp—the Abyss Order won't make this easy."
Ying nodded, her grip tightening on her sword. "We'll save Teucer—no matter what it takes," she said, her voice filled with determination. Paimon hovered beside her, her tiny fists clenched. "Yeah! Let's show those Abyss jerks who's boss!" she cheered, her enthusiasm a bright spot in the tense atmosphere.
Venti, still trailing behind, watched the group with a mix of concern and hope. The ruins loomed ahead, their crumbling towers a stark reminder of the battle to come. He tugged at his braids, his expression conflicted. "I hope you can save him, my friends," he whispered, his voice carried away on the wind. "But if you can't… I'll be there to help."
The group reached the heart of the ruins, a vast courtyard surrounded by shattered pillars and a swirling vortex of Anemo energy. Teucer, the Wind Dragon, hovered above, his massive form a shadow against the sky, his scales marred with streaks of purple from the Abyss Order's corruption. The battle for Mondstadt's soul was about to begin, and the stakes had never been higher.
***
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