In the next second Fischl changed her tone, planted her hands on her hips, and declared in her usual haughty manner,
"Thou didst dare ignore the Prinzessin der Verurteilung…! I shall now see who among us is the swifter existence!"
Kairo's expression hovered between bemusement and exasperation. He gave her a sidelong glance. "Oh? You sure about that?"
Fischl lifted her chin, golden eyes shining with absolute confidence.
"The gears of destiny have already begun to turn! Betwixt us, a victor must be chosen!"
Oz fluttered his wings and translated mildly, "The young lady means—she's not convinced."
Kairo couldn't help but chuckle. The corners of his lips lifted. "Alright then. Let's see who's faster."
His thoughts stirred.
A ripple of invisible energy coursed through his limbs—a light, flowing force wrapping around him like a current of air.
—Ripple technique, activated.
Whoosh!
In an instant, Kairo felt weightless, as though he had merged with the wind itself. Even the two heavy sacks of Mondstadt goods slung over his shoulders seemed to lose their weight.
He took a single step—
—and his figure shot out like a blurred gust.
"?!"
Fischl, who had prepared a grand victory speech in her mind, froze. Before she could even blink, Kairo was already a dozen paces ahead. Even Oz's eyes narrowed.
"Meine Fräulein… Mr. Kairo is… rather fast," the raven observed.
Fischl's proud look stiffened. Wait—what?! How was he running that quickly while carrying two full bags?
Before she could react, Kairo turned and casually adjusted his strap, giving her a teasing look.
"Well? Aren't you coming?"
"!!"
Fischl puffed her cheeks, face flushing with indignation. Twin golden ponytails bounced as she stomped once and bolted after him like an angry kitten.
She sprinted with all her might—yet Kairo still looked as if he were merely strolling. Even while she ran full tilt, breathing quick and shallow, he moved with feather-light steps, calm and unhurried.
"What manner of sorcery is this…?"
Within seconds her pace faltered. Sweat dampened her bangs; her breathing turned uneven. Twice she almost stepped on her cloak.
Kairo glanced back, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "That's all the speed you've got?"
"!!!"
She glared with watery eyes. "Hmph! This Prinzessin merely grants thee a fleeting advantage! Once I have… regained my strength—"
Before she could finish, Kairo set a hand lightly on her shoulder.
A pulse of unseen energy flowed from his fingertips into her body—
—Ripple, applied.
Fischl's eyes widened. Suddenly she felt incredibly light, as if invisible shackles had fallen away. Every movement was buoyed by a gentle current.
"...?"
She looked down at her legs, baffled. Why do I feel so light?
Kairo's calm voice floated from ahead. "Alright. Let's go."
He started walking again—faster than before—and the distance widened.
"W-Wait—!"
She took an instinctive step—
Whoosh!
Her body glided forward two or three paces in a single stride.
"!!!"
Stunned, she looked down again. Did I truly move that far in one step? A soft wind seemed to carry her; every motion felt smooth and effortless, as if the very ground had turned slick beneath her feet.
"Wh-What… is this?"
She tried again. Another stride—another rush of wind. This time she was easily twice as fast as before. Each step bore invisible momentum, as though pushed by an unseen hand.
Fischl stood frozen, exhaustion swept away by pure wonder. My speed… increased this much?
When she finally looked up, Kairo was already farther ahead, strolling through the sunset-washed trees as if on an evening walk.
Her eyes narrowed. Without hesitation she broke into a sprint again—and this time, it was different. Her pace was smooth and predatory, every stride long and sure. The wind itself seemed to guide her feet.
"Kairo…! How didst thou accomplish this?! Dost thou perchance command the secret blessing of the Anemo Archon?"
Her gaze trembled as she watched her own legs move light as air. Each step felt aided by the world itself.
Thoughts raced. Only one conclusion seemed to fit—
Could it be… Kairo has obtained a Vision?
It matched the sensation perfectly: swiftness, lightness, effortless motion—like Anemo's blessing. And yet… she couldn't feel even a wisp of Anemo.
Oz hovered at her side, feathers ruffling. "Mr. Kairo might possess a hidden Vision," he said thoughtfully. "Though I must admit… I sense no trace of Anemo from him either."
Fischl's pace hitched. If it wasn't the wind's grace… then what, exactly, was Kairo using?
To be continued…
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