Chapter 52: Chapter 52 If You’re Trapped in a Place Without Wind
A massive tower loomed so heavy it blocked out the sky.
Decarabian's city-state felt both stifling and prosperous, its deep-blue sky forever buried beneath endless storms, the whole domain runnin' like a precise, flawless machine.
Policies were its gears, people were the fuel flowin' through its iron veins, and this city-state stayed forever peaceful, forever rich, forever…
Unable to see the sunlight.
This city was like steel beams wrapped in cotton, and once a gentle breeze blew, it bared its ferocious iron bones underneath.
"Hey, Wind."
It was but one wisp outta a thousand winds, no gender, no form, forever howlin' across the northern lands, no direction, no goal, just endless windy laments.
Yet someone was callin' it.
"Hey, friend."
She rocked short black hair, ear-length, with two thin braids hangin' down on each side, shifting into a gradient of green.
At the end of those braids were jade-like hues, her body on tiptoe, head tilted, emerald eyes pure and transparent like delicately carved amber.
"Hello." She greeted the Wind.
"Hello," said the Wind.
"Girl…" The Wind's voice rasped softly, "You are…?"
Once that word "girl" rang out, her face darkened big time, brows knotted, wincin' as she hissed, "I'm a guy…"
"?" The Wind Spirit hovered in midair, tilting its head in disbelief.
"This was an accident," she muttered through gritted teeth, cursing quietly, "Last time something went wrong."
The Wind Spirit couldn't catch her words, but it sensed her unhappiness, so it gently brushed her cheek, tryin' to comfort her—this was something it learned from humans.
The girl smiled again; naturally optimistic, her disappointment vanished as fast as it came.
She reached out a pale hand toward the Wind, while the howling mountain gusts blanketed the sky, the leaden canopy pressin' down, but her eyes carried a natural sunshine, those emerald pupils glistening with crystal-clear longing.
"Wind, wanna go check it out with me?"
Check it out?
The Wind Spirit didn't get what she meant. It lowered its head and lightly tapped her snowy-white hand.
"I wanna see how birds look soaring in the sky."
Her voice almost got swallowed by the howling winds.
"Friend, won't you come along?"
Feathers—The Wind Spirit figured she wanted eagle or hawk feathers, those pretty plumes.
If she braided them together, they'd form a beautiful little bird.
The Wind Spirit clapped its hands—this sounded fun.
Where could they find these feathers?
So the Wind and the girl climbed the spine of a snowy mountain, wanderin' along the endless snow line, where vast drifts erased every footprint.
The Wind held the girl's hand, guiding her step by step upward.
On the highest snowfields, at altitudes untouched by the Wind Wall, they found a single feather of a bird.
They trekked through Dadaupa Gorge's valley, snatching bird feathers in a mountain cave.
They crossed Brightcrown Canyon, and at sunset, when the dying light bled onto the coastline, shimmering through the thick Wind Wall, in that thin yet brilliant twilight, they found another feather.
One feather, two feathers, three feathers…The Wind and the girl went everywhere, and in that stifling, suffocating land, poetry, blue skies, and birds suddenly seemed within reach during their journey.
New feelings, new desires throbbed inside the Wind's chest.
It suddenly felt it wasn't just some aimless breeze among thousands.
It wanted to gather all the feathers and present a bird to her.
——
The girl died.
When the Wind saw her again, she was lying in a pool of blood, her pale-green garments soaked in crimson.
Her once-emerald eyes had dimmed.
She was still gazing at the Wind, still smiling, that bright yet sorrowful grin.
She died on the eve before the Wind Wall shattered.
She longed to see blue skies and flying birds, but perished before they arrived.
The girl and the Wind had raised the banner of rebellion; more and more folk joined them, more and more died beneath that Wind Wall.
War exploded across this land, a war in pursuit of freedom.
The lonely throne atop the tall tower fell.
Until his death, that ruler believed he gave his subjects a city without bitterness and chill, believing they loved him as he loved them.
The Wind hovered helplessly, wandering by the girl's side, lost and unsure.
It tried touching her cheek, pulling her up, holding her body, trying to make her stand again, but nothing worked.
It tried everything. Nothing.
The little bird remained in the Wind's arms, undelivered.
It couldn't speak.
All it could do was whimper in the breeze.
They promised to see everything outside together.
"Hey, cut it out, it tickles, let me sleep a bit."
"We won, didn't we, Wind?"
Her body was losing warmth, drifting further into death, yet she comforted the Spirit:
"My life's mission is done, I'm at peace, I can leave without regrets.
But Wind, your journey ain't over. You gotta keep going."
She spoke softly:
"Wind, you gotta see what's beyond the Wind Wall for me. What's summer like?"
"What lies beyond the snowy mountains? Is there something fun beyond the Wind Wall?"
"You're a tiny gust of chance and hope. Does golden wheat ripple across open fields? What's outside Mondstadt? What's in this world? Is it round or square?"
Her emerald eyes stared into the Wind's, dull and darkened, yet blazing with fierce desire deep within.
She stared and stared.
"Wind, in the depths of my memory, there was once golden wheat, once oceans tinted by summer sunsets, once blue skies, white clouds, and soaring birds.
But my life's a blank page—I was born under that towering Wind Wall and never witnessed these scenes.
Wind, you must see them for me."
"If I'm trapped in a place without wind,"
"Then you become the bird—"
"Because I once saw glorious brilliance, I can't endure the loneliness beneath the tower."
"If I'm trapped in a place without wind,"
"You must fly to the heights above."
…
The old god perished, a new god ascended.
The Wind felt divine power flowing through its fingertips. It didn't wanna forget her face, so it shaped its own form after hers.
She picked up the Holy Lyre der Himmel, gently strumming the strings.
Free winds scattered snow and opened mountain passages.
"Hey, friend, what's good," Barbatos said softly.
"I'm scared I'll forget you, so I became you, to bear your burdens and push forward."
The poisonous dragon was slain.
Its calamity nearly wiped out Mondstadt.
Roaring flames licked the leaden sky, smoke rolling over the wrecked land.
No one found Wolf Pup Rostam's body, nor many warriors'.
Before Stormterror and the Anemo Archon arrived, they defended Mondstadt with their lives.
Barbatos walked barefoot across these desolate grounds.
Wandering aimless, surrounded by devastation.
Suddenly, she heard a strange voice.
[Hey, help me out.]
That voice echoed from deep within the soul.
[Yo, keep walking forward.]
Following the voice, Barbatos crossed forests and dank swamps, her mind growing restless.
She walked who-knows-how-long until she found the source.
It was a valley.
Golden wheat had been burned to ash, and in the valley's center knelt a young man.
Daylight waned, a blood-red sun hung at the horizon's edge.
Blood-hued rays shrouded the youth.
Wolf Pup, Rostam.
His body drenched in blood, snowy robes defiled by grime, eyes empty and dim.
His sword shattered, just like his life. He fell into the grave at the height of his youth.
Tears of blood seemed to stream from his eyes.
He was soaked in poison, marrow corrupted, flesh decaying, a new shell not yet formed.
His soul lay bare under that bloody twilight, pitiful and tiny, at risk of vanishing any moment.
This was his soul's shape.
"Hello, friend," he said.
Barbatos had seen him before. This serious kid from the Knights of Favonius, skilled in Favonius Bladework, once swore at the statue of the Anemo Archon to guard Mondstadt forever.
He often sang before the deity's statue.
Back then, Barbatos took no heed, free and careless.
But now, facing that pure white soul, laid bare before her, Barbatos's heart twitched painfully.
She'd never felt such a strange emotion before.
The howling wind roared in her ears, and she recalled that frigid tower, the earth overturned, Four Winds in chaos, that nameless white-robed girl dying in the Wind's arms, the Wind helpless but to wail.
"Hello, friend."
"Hello, friend."
[He failed.]
[He was arrogant, thought he could do anything, save everyone, but he failed.]
[He died before dawn again, and this time there's no escape.]
[He never failed before, but now he did. I'm helpless.]
A strange presence whispered in Barbatos's ear:
"His mission's not done, his destiny ain't sealed, his new shell not yet born. I can't save him, though I hate it.
Anemo Archon of Mondstadt, I need your help."
Barbatos backed away, that possibility ballooning in her mind, she whispered: "No…No way."
"It's…you?"
She realized she might've messed up something crucial, something tiny but deadly.
The boy was dead, a death eerily familiar yet foreign.
She was late.
Late by thousands of years again.
He died fighting for Mondstadt, alone against a poisonous dragon, dying alone with no one by his side.
[Everything that happens next, you must forget.]
[If you see him again, you can't recognize him, can't mention the past. Treat him as a stranger.]
[No matter how many times you meet, treat it as the first.]
[Otherwise, thousands of years of worn memories will instantly destroy his soul.]
[Memory is poison. The moment he recalls, he's doomed.]
Silence.
The Human Principles System's words were cold and flat.
Barbatos's emerald eyes trembled. Finally, she nodded.
[Now, I need your Holy Lyre der Himmel, your power. I'll use it to rebuild his body.]
The Holy Lyre der Himmel.
Barbatos lowered her head, plucked its strings gently, the Lyre humming softly.
That girl also loved playin' a lyre.
Barbatos recalled them perched atop mountains in Upa Valley, lavender scents in the air, the green-eyed girl strumming a gentle pastoral tune beneath the Wind Wall, Wind Spirits swirling around, hissing softly.
Rostam once sang at the God's statue. Barbatos sometimes overheard.
A slightly sad poem of lovers parted by war.
"The west wind bears wine's fragrance away,"
"The mountain wind brings glad tidings new."
"The breeze from afar tugs at my heart,"
"The rustling sings of my longing for you."
Divine power flowed through the lyre's strings, soothing all restless souls.
Under its calming melody, Rostam's soul slowly stabilized.
With the Anemo Archon's authority harnessed by the Human Principles System, a new body rapidly formed.
As dusk fell and time slipped by, Seino Raimei—that boy didn't yet have this name—emerged with a fragile body.
He was so weak, breathing shallow, heartbeat barely detectable, fragile as a newborn.
This world was cruel.
He struggled to open his eyes, silver irises empty.
"Huff…" he gasped weakly, ready to die any moment.
[We've done all we can. The rest is fate.]
[Take him to Inazuma. He can't stay in Mondstadt. Here, he'll be devoured by erosion anytime.]
Barbatos followed Human Principles System's instructions.
A thousand winds filled the sails, sending the boy's boat down the bay's currents away from Mondstadt, heading somewhere distant.
Silvery moonlight bathed him, curled up and trembling, as if trapped in a place without wind.
Barbatos watched him leave.
She lowered her head, cool moonlight draping her silhouette.
"Hello, friend."
It's about to rain.
[You flee my dream come the morning]
[Your scent - berries tart, lilac sweet]
[On a rainy night at Cider Lake, the wolf I will follow into the storm]
——
Today, the Pillar General returned triumphant.
Inazuma's streets were deserted as everyone rushed out to see the famed Pillar General.
He was heaven's gift to Inazuma.
Since Narukami left Inazuma, the Abyss invaded, and the world nearly fell. The Pillar General rose, guarding Inazuma's borders, holding back the Abyssal Corruption beyond the outlying islands, never letting it touch Inazuma City's shores.
He stood alone at the frontier, white robe stained with blood, fighting for days without rest.
Without him, tens of thousands of civilians would've died.
After this campaign, he was named Pillar General.
So now a ruckus filled the streets—everybody wanted a glimpse.
Seino Raimei rode atop a tall warhorse, kinda annoyed.
He hated big ceremonies.
Damn these folks, they even hired a theater troupe!
The Raiden Shogun had returned, and he had to report back.
Today was a day right after heavy snow cleared, the sky bright and transparent. Cherry blossoms flared like flames, petals drifting like white snow.
A melody drifted, sad and foreign, maybe from overseas.
Seino Raimei didn't understand it, but it sounded nice.
"Hey, friend, what's up?" The bard who plucked a lyre smiled, "Need another tune?"
"No thanks," Seino shook his head, pointing to Tenshukaku, refusing the foreign bard's kindness: "The Shogun returned."
He grinned, "I must find her."
"Have we met before?"
"This is our first meeting," said the bard.
"Alright."
Seino Raimei turned his horse, soldiers clearing the way, the young hero riding through petals.
..
"Hello, friend."
"Hello, friend."
That flash of lightning vanished into the sky, a 0.3-second thunderbolt across the heavens.
High above, only thunder's rumble remained, nothing else.
No one can reunite with that lightning; it passes overhead, you see it, but to the lightning, you're a stranger.
Five hundred years passed, you can only watch the lightning rise and fall in a sky unrelated to you.
The bard sat on Mondstadt's highest statue, emerald eyes trembling, head bowed, shoulders shaking. She wanted to speak but couldn't.
She took out the Holy Lyre der Himmel, strumming a requiem for that lightning.
The wind moaned, just like it did five hundred years, even thousands of years ago.
This is all she can do now.
"Hello, friend."
"Hello, friend."
"Friend."
Someone whispered in Seino Fugin's ear:
—"Friend, I'm preventing your fall with the power of a thousand winds."
Seino didn't know who spoke. That voice was as clear as spring water, filling him with courage.
If you're trapped in a place without wind, a thousand winds will help you.
He suddenly felt lighter, stepped forward, Wind Glider unfurling naturally.
Who's helping him?
He soared high—
Seino plunged into battle with Stormterror.
The storm ended, the leaden sky cleared, orange sunlight painting the ruined city.
Mondstadt's citizens cheered the young hero, while in some hidden corner, the bard left quietly.
She moved with quick steps, humming softly, smiling through trembling shoulders, head lowered, biting her lip, as broken sunbeams fell upon her.
"Friend." She lifted her gaze to the clear sky, whispering, as if to herself, proudly:
"This time, I wasn't late."
The bard's voice quivered,
"I… wasn't late."
Maybe this time she can save him.
——
Next day.
As dusk fell, Mondstadt's plaza lay empty, Seino Fugin perched idly on a pillar, singing.
On a rainy night by the Fruit Wine Lake.
His gentle, warm voice melted into the winter twilight, drifting beyond the hills.
Then a hand-accordion joined in.
Truly, Mondstadt's a land of ballads; even random strangers strum tunes.
He looked up and spotted a figure in light green bard's attire, far off by the steps, beckoning gently.
"Hi." Seino smiled.
To his regret, the bard only played a moment before leaving.
He'd hoped they could be friends.
——
"Cough."
Seino Fugin coughed lightly.
"Yo, dude, you good? Don't catch a cold now," said a lively girl—Amber.
Chestnut hair, a red bunny-ear bow on her head, goggles at her neck, red thigh-high socks and white boots with short shorts.
Amber, as she introduced herself, was a three-time flight champ and the only Outrider Knight in the Knights of Favonius.
"No worries," Seino Fugin tapped his head, feeling woozy.
"Let's keep moving."
They were at one of the Four Winds Temples, the Temple of the West Wind Eagle.
Deserted for years, it grew dank and mossy, statues dusty, winds howling nonstop under a leaden sky.
Kunikuzushi was right—the dragon crisis was indeed the Abyss's handiwork.
Seino Fugin sensed Abyssal Corruption deep within the temple.
They followed the narrow corridor, the darkness oppressive, but Amber stayed chipper, babbling like a sparrow.
"You're sick, I'll protect you," she said.
Seino pushed her aside, drawing his sword—God Cutter.
In a flash of steel, the air crackled, metal clashed, sparks flying.
A giant hand emerged from the darkness, swinging a massive club at Seino's blade.
[Hilichurl Chieftain, Lv.35]
A beast of monstrous size, white breath seeping through fanged jaws, red eyes glowing like lanterns.
Seino ducked low, twisting God Cutter, and in one swift move, the club shattered.
He cut deep through the creature's torso, wind blades slicing bone and flesh, disintegrating it from shoulder to abdomen.
[You've defeated the Hilichurl Chieftain.]
[Seino Fugin, Level 40.]
[Favonius Bladework mastery, Gnosis in hand, growth unstoppable.]
Seino shook off the blood, breathing out.
"Wow!" Amber applauded, "You're amazing!"
Amber was straightforward—amazing means amazing.
'Because I'm cheating,' Seino thought, or rather, replaying a second run.
Ever since fully inheriting Favonius Bladework, he skyrocketed ten levels, now at Level 40.
With a Gnosis-like power, he soaked up everything like a sponge.
Still not enough.
If he met that Fatui Harbinger "La Signora" or Stormterror again, he'd stand no chance yet.
This temple's crawling with monsters, all feed for his growth.
"Let's move on," Seino said, Wind Glider unfurling as he leapt forward.
…
[You defeated a Hilichurl Berserker, Lv.30]
[You defeated a Hilichurl Shooter, Lv.23]
God Cutter sliced through all foes, giving them swift ends to minimize suffering.
He's just a mortal, can't save them, only spare them prolonged agony.
No idea how long they fought or how many fell.
He felt his body steadily growing stronger… and steadily breaking down.
[Level: 45]
In previous cycles, he must've done the same—slaughtering his way through.
When twilight burned the peaks, smoke rose from farmhouses cooking dinner, they emerged from the temple.
Amber, who had been full of energy, now wobbled, staring at Seino Fugin like he was some freak.
Dude looked scholarly but was a total monster in battle.
They exited, Amber offered him a meal to celebrate his heroic deeds.
Free food's nice, but Seino refused.
He had a habit over multiple lifetimes: never show weakness to anyone, friend or foe.
He parted ways with Amber, striding off.
An icy chill stabbed his throat, blood coughed up, his body trembling.
The erosion from Rostam's memories gnawed at him further.
He grew too fast, and the cost was steep.
"Cough."
Blood on his lips, he swallowed it, standing tall.
[Main quest: Investigate Four Winds Temples]
[Reward: Fragment of Past Memory]
Seino Fugin straightened his spine, pressing on.