"You promised last time you'd turn over a new leaf!"
"Hahaha! You actually believed a Treasure Hoarder's word? That was just to avoid a beating, nothing more."
Bennett shook his head in disappointment and addressed the group of defeated Treasure Hoarders lying on the ground. "Hand over your Crow Insignias, then leave. No more gatherings. And stay away from the Snezhnayan merchants."
"I'm outta here!"
"Yeah, time to bounce."
"Glad that's over." A Hoarder holding a shovel muttered, earning some strange looks from his companions. Scratching his head, he corrected himself, "Uh—I mean, I'll head off too."
Victor Wang extended his hand, collecting the insignias from those around him.
"Didn't expect to become the prey," the crossbowman muttered bitterly as he handed over a Silver Raven Insignia.
Only the three squad leaders carried the higher-tier Silver Raven Insignias; the rest bore standard Treasure Seeker insignias. Victor gave all he collected to Bennett.
When two of the Hoarders seemed to be regrouping, Bennett shouted at them, "Still trying to gather up? You looking to get reported for illegal assembly?"
The pair flinched and quickly split off again. All ten took off in ten different directions.
"Why didn't you take them out?" Victor asked bluntly.
"Take them out?"
"I mean—why let them live?"
Realizing Victor might not know the ins and outs of the adventuring world, Bennett offered an explanation.
"A thousand years ago, bandits didn't just steal—they killed. People fought back with equal cruelty. But their groups were scattered, many hiding in remote ruins. Wiping them out completely was impossible. If you tried, they retaliated hard—innocents paid the price. Even when large campaigns succeeded, new groups would just pop up a few years later."
"Then, about a millennium ago, a 'King of Thieves' rose up. He struck a deal with the nations: his people would only steal, never kill. In return, nations agreed not to execute captured thieves."
"And how do you make sure thieves don't kill?" Victor asked.
Bennett held up the collection of insignias. "That King of Thieves created these—Crow Insignias—from special materials. Only those recognized by him could carry them. These became the mark of the Treasure Hoarders.
"If a Hoarder covered for a murderer, the whole group lost credibility—and possibly their lives. If a nation killed a captured Hoarder, it violated the truce, and retaliation followed. Over time, these bloodthirsty gangs gave way to organized Hoarders. People still got robbed, but if they reported it in time, they might recover their goods. And even if unguarded, victims usually kept their lives."
"Huh… I never knew any of that." Victor mentally flipped through everything he'd read—no such records came to mind.
Bennett smiled brightly. "That's what my dads told me. But they say Inazuma's Kairagi, or some Eremites in Sumeru, still rob and kill. Even here in Mondstadt, there are rogue thieves not under the Hoarders' banner."
"So, getting their insignia proves identity?"
"Yep—and you have to submit it when reporting the commission."
They headed back toward the road. Just a few minutes away was the escort commission for the hot air balloon.
Victor asked, "What if someone hoarded insignias, accepted the bounty, and just faked the job?"
"It's happened before. But apparently the client has other ways of verifying things. The faker lost their Adventurer's License."
"This client seems to know a lot about the Hoarders."
"Yeah, maybe."
After a short dash, they spotted the cargo balloon and its operator waiting nearby.
"Hey there," Bennett called out. "I'm not late, am I?"
"Right on time. Let's get moving."
The operator adjusted the balloon and began guiding it along the preset route.
As expected, they ran into Hilichurls and various barricades. Though Victor was technically half-Hilichurl now, the Hilichurls still recognized him—and chose not to attack him.
But they had to be eliminated regardless. Victor did his best to make it quick.
Hilichurls were nothing if not tough—fearless, immune to pain. The few that survived his initial strikes stared at him blankly before muttering, "Yika." (Bad guy.)
I'm sorry, Victor thought.
No Abyss Mages appeared. The toughest enemy was a Mitachurl with a wooden shield. Even after Bennett set the shield on fire, the brute kept charging toward the balloon.
Luckily, Bennett lured him away with a well-timed taunt. Had he not, the cargo would've taken a serious hit.
After clearing that stretch, the operator safely guided the balloon away.
By the time Victor and Bennett completed the last commission and returned to Mondstadt, it was already noon. Victor offered to buy lunch, but Bennett declined—he had to go cook for his dads.
At 1 PM, they met again at East Wind Square for a sparring match.
Bennett had recommended the spot—it was close to where his dads lived. He trained there often, and most regulars were familiar faces.
To keep things fair yet realistic, both summoned elemental barriers and used wooden swords. This allowed for full-force sparring without real injuries.
Bennett's technique was eclectic—he'd learned from many veteran adventurers—but the style he used most was called Strike of Fortune.
Compared to Favonius Bladework, its first three strikes flowed seamlessly into a fourth thrust. Only the fifth move involved a turning maneuver.
"This style looks familiar," Victor remarked mid-duel.
"It's called Strike of Fortune. Big bro Kaeya from the Knights taught me. You know him?"
Kaeya was beloved in Mondstadt—he and Amber were probably the two most popular figures in town.
"Kaeya, huh… That explains it. He and I are close friends—we've shared secrets."
Victor mentally compared the forms and realized: Strike of Fortune matched Kaeya's Ceremonial Bladework almost exactly—except the final move. Kaeya's version included a teleport to the enemy's back, never exposing his own.
That tweak was very Kaeya.
Though their styles differed, Bennett's fundamentals were solid. Throughout the afternoon, Victor mostly found himself on the defensive. Just as he adapted to a sequence, Bennett would switch styles and regain the upper hand.
The sparring lasted until dusk.
Victor offered Bennett a recovery potion. They sat on a bench, sipping and chatting.
Bennett shared his dream. "You want to travel Teyvat, right? I do too… but I've got a different goal. I want to make Mondstadt's Adventurers' Guild the biggest and strongest in all seven nations. That's my dads' dream!"
He grinned. "Pretty awesome, huh? When that happens, Benny's Adventure Team will be legendary!"
Victor felt a bitter sweetness wash over him as the potion's taste settled. He thought of his own parents.
"You're lucky, Bennett. My parents aren't even in this world. And as their child… I don't even know what their dreams were."
Bennett blinked, overwhelmed. No one had ever called him lucky before.
But thinking it through—wasn't meeting his dads the luckiest thing that ever happened to him?
Still, he felt sad for Victor. Words failed him. All he could do was drink in silence.
Victor broke it first.
"Even though I'll be off journeying through Teyvat, I hope I cross paths with Benny's Adventure Team again before it's over.
"To adventure, to freedom, and to dreams—cheers!"
"Cheers!"