The North Wind's Decision and a Lone Figure in the Tower

In the central plaza of Stormterror's Lair, fierce winds tore at the broken stone pillars.

Jean and Eula were directing the team as they counted the wounded.

Carrying the black iron pot, Wei Zhenzu walked slowly out of the shadows of the corridor with Paimon.

The freshly cooked broth gave off a rich aroma of spices, dispelling a little of the chill around them.

Just then, a piercing sonic boom rang out high overhead.

A cyan storm crashed to the ground, smashing the thick stone slabs in the center of the plaza.

As the winds died down, Varka strode toward them.

His imposing frame was clad in heavy armor, his boots thudding against the rubble. The two greatswords on his back struck each other as he walked, ringing with the crisp clash of metal.

"Grand Master!" The Knights of Favonius around them stopped what they were doing and saluted with a hand over their hearts.

Jean's tense shoulders finally relaxed a little. She hurried forward to meet him, a trace of exhaustion flashing in her eyes.

"Well done, Jean. I've heard all about it." Varka clapped Jean firmly on the shoulder, his gaze sweeping over the knights tending to their wounds across the plaza before settling on Wei Zhenzu.

The Knight of Boreas raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Brother Liangzi was behind those aftershocks from the battle, wasn't he? I could see that spectacular lightning from a long way off."

Wei Zhenzu nodded, dispensing with further pleasantries.

He took out a freshly carved wooden bowl, filled it with purplish-red hot soup, and held it out. "Just made it with monster scraps. Want some to get your strength back?"

Varka accepted without hesitation, taking the coarse porcelain bowl and draining it in one gulp.

A spicy, scalding warmth flooded his stomach, and powerful energy spread through his limbs and bones. The Grand Master's eyes lit up. He wiped the soup from the corner of his mouth and exclaimed how good it felt.

"Master! Captain Kaeya, he..."

On a stretcher, a young scout knight struggled to raise his upper body.

His face was covered in blood and grime, and his voice had grown hoarse from extreme thirst and anxiety. His words brought the brief exchange to an abrupt halt.

His eyes were red, and his fingers gripped the wooden edge of the stretcher so tightly that his knuckles turned white:

"During the retreat, the barrier suddenly grew much more unstable. Black rifts opened in space, and a lot of monsters that elemental reactions didn't work on crawled out. To cover our escape, the captain drew the main force away on his own. He used Cryo to seal off the retreat, but he... he was swept up to the top of the ruined tower by that dark red storm!"

The air fell deathly still, broken only by the wind's mournful whine through the broken walls.

The smile vanished from Varka's face. He slowly raised his head and looked up at the tower in the center of the ruins.

A dark red storm of chaos swirled around the top of the tower. The sound of mechanical gears, which did not belong to Teyvat, came in waves from deep within the clouds, accompanied by the roars of the demonic dragon.

The distorted pressure made the chest of every Vision holder present feel tight.

"The situation has exceeded our expectations." Varka lowered his head, his voice deep and commanding. "The fighting ahead is no longer something ordinary Vision holders can take part in."

Jean immediately stepped forward, gripping the Aquila Favonia at her waist. "We can fight. The Knights of Favonius will not abandon any of our comrades."

Varka raised a hand, cutting her off.

"Jean, you and Eula will retreat with the wounded. Take Klee and return to the City of Mondstadt immediately." Varka's tone made it an unquestionable order.

"But they need us on the front line, and Kaeya is still up there." Eula grew anxious too, her eyes full of unwillingness.

She reached for the hilt of the sword on her back, her knuckles cracking.

"You're needed in the rear as well." Varka turned to look Eula and Jean in the eyes, his gaze severe.

"The Abyss Order could take advantage of our weakness at any moment. Go guard the passes on the outskirts of the ruins and protect the retreat route. Remember, the safety of ordinary people is the bottom line."

"And there's all the coordination needed in the rear. You know I can't handle that sort of thing."

Jean bit her lip, the taste of blood spreading through her mouth.

She knew full well that Varka's decision was absolutely right.

The distorted aura coming from the tower made even her, the Acting Grand Master, feel waves of dread. If ordinary knights went up there, they would only become food for those monsters.

"...Understood." Jean finally closed her eyes and gave a formal knight's salute.

She turned around, took a deep breath, and began organizing the team's withdrawal in an orderly fashion.

Though the Knights of Favonius were reluctant, orders were absolute. They quickly lifted the stretchers and supported one another as they headed for the exit.

Klee hugged the heavy cannon while Eula held her hand tightly. She looked back toward the tower every few steps before finally disappearing into the gloomy wind passage.

The vast plaza of the ruins emptied in an instant.

Wei Zhenzu took a deep breath. Cold air flooded his lungs, slightly suppressing the churning weakness in his stomach.

He could clearly smell the burnt odor and the scent of blood mingled in the wind.

After the main force withdrew, the surroundings grew eerily quiet, with only the occasional rumble of thunder from above the tower.

Paimon trembled, clutching the back hem of his coat and muttering under her breath, too afraid to look up.

Varka reached back and drew both swords, violent Anemo energy flowing over their broad blades.

Wei Zhenzu narrowed his eyes slightly as the sharp wind pressure rushing toward him stung his cheeks.

The Knight of Boreas gazed up at the sky, an easy smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"That Barbatos... he's probably been watching this place for a while, but he likely won't interfere in something like this."

Varka lowered his voice and raised an eyebrow at Wei Zhenzu, a teasing note in his tone.

Then he turned, his gaze fixed intently on Wei Zhenzu, who was limbering up his wrists. "Outlander. The final battle at the tower is up to the two of us. There's a real hell up there. Are you afraid of dying?"

Wei Zhenzu did not answer immediately. He twisted his aching neck, his joints cracking.

With a slight thought, the system panel silently opened across his vision. He stared at the number in the upper right corner. The Lunacy Points he had risked his life to save up in the carriage were exactly enough for one Identity Overwrite.

That was his only trump card for getting through this deadly situation.

Wei Zhenzu sighed and casually closed the panel.

"I am. Who isn't afraid of dying?" He lowered his eyes and raised his right hand, gently rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

A warm, smooth sensation met his touch. The Anemo Archon's mark was glowing faintly, resonating ever so slightly with some law at the top of the tower.

Feeling the warmth on the back of his hand, Wei Zhenzu suddenly chuckled, his weary gaze turning sharp in an instant.

"But I've got a flaw. Since I took your Anemo Archon's single-pull ticket, I have to see this job through."

Wei Zhenzu stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with Varka. "Let's go, Grand Master. Let's bring your cavalry captain back."

Neither man wasted another word.

Wei Zhenzu grabbed the still-trembling Paimon and tucked her into his arms, then stepped without hesitation into the enormous wind current leading to the top of the tower.

A feeling of weightlessness came over them as the wind roared to life. Powerful cyan currents lifted their bodies and sent them hurtling skyward. Wei Zhenzu sharply raised his head and opened his eyes against the knife-like cold wind.

At the far end of his vision, the dark red clouds churned wildly.

Meanwhile, the vast war machine that was the Knights of Favonius finally began operating at full speed.

On Galesong Hill, on the outskirts of the ruins, the night wind was bitterly cold.

Squad after squad of heavily armored knights advanced in formation.

Their silver armor clinked in the darkness, producing crisp, uniform sounds.

Spears rose like a forest, pointing straight at the sky.

Guerrilla squads quickly spread out and occupied every vantage point. Archers strung their bows and loaded their crossbows, their fine steel arrowheads gleaming coldly.

At the entrances to the various valleys and along the vital chokepoints, barricades and iron caltrops were arranged in neat rows.

The logistics troops lit enormous bonfires, illuminating the defensive line. The knights' profiles looked resolute in the firelight.

Before the gates of the City of Mondstadt.

With a heavy rumble, the enormous oak gates slowly closed. Massive iron bolts fell into place, sealing shut the city-state that symbolized freedom.

Diluc stood atop the towering city wall, his long red hair whipping wildly in the night wind. He held the broad Wolf's Gravestone in one hand, its blade burning with the undying fire of the dark night.

Below the wall, the Knights of Favonius who had stayed behind stood ready, while rows of bows and crossbows at the battlements pointed into the darkness beyond the city.

The torches formed a continuous band of light, casting wavering reflections across the surface of Cider Lake.

Diluc stared coldly at the strange red glow on the distant horizon, his gaze deep and icy. Whatever crawled out of the darkness tonight would have to cross his corpse.

Fierce winds howled across the vast plains, and warhorses neighed one after another.

A grim atmosphere shrouded the entire northeastern corner of Teyvat. The final battle at the heart of the storm was about to sound the death knell.