The contract had been fulfilled. Finally retired, Zhongli left the Northland Bank and arrived at Yun Jin's theater.
"The mission is complete. We should return to Snezhnaya to report to Her Majesty," Signora said.
Returning to Snezhnaya served two purposes: submitting their mission report and laying low for a while.
Though they were merely tools under the Geo Archon's command, the people of Liyue would undoubtedly be resentful in the immediate aftermath of the incident.
They did not invite Arlecchino to join them, as her mission was different from theirs.
"Indeed. After we return, I still have a wager to settle," Tartaglia said.
The wager he spoke of was the one he had made with Lucian—a bet with his life on the line.
"You're actually planning to honor that wager?" Signora glanced at Tartaglia.
Tartaglia shrugged. "A wager made in the land of the God of Contracts—I'd hate to go back on my word."
Though he said that, given his personality, he would have upheld the bet even if it hadn't been made in the Nation of Contracts.
"Suit yourself," Signora waved a hand dismissively. "I'll inform Her Majesty to prepare a grand funeral for you."
"Tch, what a way to lose face and my life at the same time," Tartaglia muttered to himself.
"I'll go with you to meet Lucian," Arlecchino interjected.
"Oh? Planning to take him down and save me?" Tartaglia grinned.
"My mission is to recruit Lucian, not to protect you."
"Though I will attend your funeral," Arlecchino said before turning away and heading upstairs without another word.
"What kind of colleagues are these!?"
===✧✦✧===
Meanwhile, the others were preparing a victory banquet, which wasn't fully set up until nightfall.
The open space atop the Jade Chamber was filled with tables and chairs, where the Adepti, the Qixing, Beidou, the crew of the Crux Fleet, and the Millelith all gathered.
Everyone sat with their acquaintances, chatting over fine food, wine, and tea.
Fortunately, the real Jade Chamber was spacious, and not all the Millelith who had participated in the battle were present, so there was enough room.
"When I get back, I'll tell my wife I fought a god and won," one Millelith soldier boasted proudly.
His tablemates, all close friends, naturally played along.
"Make sure to tell her I looked dashing too—maybe she can introduce me to some of her sisters!"
Ningguang watched the lively crowd with a smile. The best news was that there had been no casualties this time.
Under normal circumstances, after such a hard-fought victory, no one would be in the mood for such lighthearted chatter.
Because at their tables, there might have been brothers who wouldn't be returning home.
"Tianquan, what's that platform for?" one of the Qixing asked.
Aside from the tables and chairs, a small stage had been set up. Given the setting, was it meant for speeches?
But no one had mentioned anything beforehand. Who would go up there? What would they say?
And shouldn't speeches be given before the meal? The banquet was already winding down.
"Lucian and the others set it up," Ningguang replied.
She didn't know its purpose either, but since Lucian had requested it, she saw no reason to refuse.
With the Adepti and manpower available, building such a stage wasn't difficult.
Speaking of the Adepti, they remained reclusive even at the banquet. Though they attended, they all took human forms and sat in the corner, avoiding attention.
Venti was among them, happily indulging in fine wine.
Zhongli sat beside him, the two archons silent—one drinking wine, the other tea.
The other Adepti also remained quiet, eating in near silence—until Cloud Retainer finally spoke.
"The food prepared by humans is indeed quite flavorful. This one's automated cooking invention must surpass it," she declared competitively.
"Back when the Stove God taught humans to cook, who could have imagined they would develop such a rich culinary culture?" Mountain Shaper mused. He hadn't interacted with humans in a long time.
"But we have no need for human food. What use is such a contraption?" Moon Carver questioned.
"It's not for you," Cloud Retainer huffed, turning away.
"It seems Cloud Retainer has decided to reside in Liyue Harbor," Madame Ping observed, catching her meaning.
"Hmph. Since you've all extended such invitations, this one shall grace you with my presence," Cloud Retainer conceded.
Zhongli set down his teacup. "A fine decision. I can offer some advice on location, decor, and furnishings."
"The old man knows everything!" Venti cheered.
Zhongli glanced at him. "Enjoying yourself?"
"Immensely! I just hope there's more free wine like this in the future," Venti said, hugging the bottle and rubbing his cheek against it.
"Free? For those who contributed, it is free. But you, who did nothing, should pay," Zhongli teased.
"Eh? But old man, you didn't contribute either. Do you have to pay?" Venti countered.
"Naturally. The bill has already been sent to the Northland Bank," Zhongli replied.
Venti inwardly panicked. He was completely broke—the wine he'd drunk earlier had been paid for with the last of his earnings from composing for Yun Jin.
And now he'd even tossed the bottle at Osial. Where was he supposed to get money now?
As he scrambled to think of a way to escape Zhongli's grasp, someone stepped onto the stage.
Not one of the Qixing, nor an Adeptus—but Lucian.
Though many didn't recognize him, they assumed anyone taking the stage at such an event must be someone of importance.
The crowd quieted, turning their attention to Lucian, curious about what he would say.
Lucian spoke:
"Everyone has eaten and drunk their fill."
"To conclude, let us enjoy a final performance—Divine Damsel of Devastation—as our curtain call."
With that, he stepped down.
His role had merely been to announce the performance—a task for which he was the most suitable. The silent Lumine and Shenhe couldn't do it, and while Hu Tao was talkative, letting her announce it might have stolen the spotlight.
The crowd was momentarily stunned. They had expected Lucian to give a lengthy speech, offering encouragement or thanking everyone for their efforts. Instead, he had said just one thing.
Before they could dwell on it, the crimson stage curtains slowly parted, revealing Yun Jin.
Lucian had brought her here, and they had even encountered Zhongli along the way.
"Ah—pitiful—"
With a single glance, her eyes shimmered with boundless emotion, as if carrying the weight of countless untold stories.
The audience hadn't expected such a performance and erupted into applause before falling silent to listen.
The tale of Divine Damsel of Devastation was familiar to all—a story written by Yun Jin's father, one that had been around for some time.
The first half told of a "divine damsel" who drew her sword against monsters to protect others.
In the current context, it felt fitting—they had all become the "divine damsels" of the story, standing against a god for Liyue's sake.
Venti decided against fleeing. He had helped compose this, after all—of course he had to stay and listen.
"Mortal bonds fade as divine fate soars—"
"Kinship scattered, the crimson court calls—"
Shenhe's expression remained unchanged, as though she were merely listening to a simple opera—a story about someone else.
But the Adepti picked up on the deeper meaning, their focus sharpening.
"The crane returns, yet the past is no more—"
"Spider's silk weaves vainly on banners torn—"
"The karmic dust of mortal bonds—dissolves—"
The crowd cheered, for to them, this was where Divine Damsel of Devastation traditionally ended.
But Yun Jin raised her gaze, the lights of the Jade Chamber reflecting in her eyes.
"Here, the tale should have reached its end—"
"Yet today, I shall add another verse—"
"To sing—for you all—to hear—"