Cloaked in deep blue and fire-red Abyss robes, three figures stood on the lone peak outside Stormterror's Lair, elemental waves rolling faintly off their bodies.
They had come because, not long ago, the life-signals of the Abyss mages stationed inside the lair had vanished.
In the Abyss Order, every member carried a distinct, traceable elemental signature. Once it was snuffed out in an instant, it meant only one thing — the caster had fallen.
Today, not one, but two Abyss mages' signatures had disappeared.
Count the one that vanished earlier — and that made three.
That was no small loss.
So they rushed over.
But when they looked down…
"…The barrier's gone?"
The Abyss mage in front — an Ice one — frowned, eyes fixed on the now-quiet remains of Stormterror's Lair.
The violent wind-wall that had covered the entire ruin like a screaming cage…
Had vanished.
But the tower's ancient sealing structure was still there. No one had smashed their way into the "core" of the Lair.
"How can this be…"
"Someone interfered," the second mage said coldly. "But it's strange — the outer tempest is gone, yet the inner seal is untouched. That means no one walked straight into Stormterror's nest."
"Then why did the storm cease?" the third mage muttered.
They all felt it: the ceaseless, Abyss-tainted squall that had wrapped the ruin… was gone.
Not weakened.
Gone.
Even worse — Stormterror's corruption had vanished with it.
That… should've been impossible.
"Unless…" the Ice Abyss mage at the front narrowed his eyes, "Twalin's curse was lifted."
"Impossible!" the other one snapped back at once. "That curse was cast by His Highness the Prince himself. No mortal in this land can dispel the Abyss's gift!"
"But the facts are right there."
The leader clenched his staff, staring down at the now-peaceful ruin. "No Abyssal residue. No raging dragon. No outside storm. Something was done — and someone pulled Twalin out of our grasp."
Silence.
Then:
"...This must be reported to His Highness immediately."
"But His Highness hasn't descended here yet," the third said softly. "How do we reach him?"
"Wait. It won't be long. His Highness knows of Mondstadt's dragon. He will come."
The other two nodded grimly.
Night wind tore at their black robes, making them crack like banners in the dark. Then the leader raised his staff — black Abyssal light blossomed underfoot, weaving into a crooked teleport sigil.
He stepped in and vanished.
The others followed.
The mountain top became empty again.
A storm had been taken from their hands.
And the Abyss… was angry.
...
Dawn spilled over Mondstadt.
Golden light slid down the windmills, over red-shingled roofs, across the clean, blue-stone streets. The air smelled of bread from Good Hunter, and from the plaza the slow creak of windmills said, a new day is here.
But today's Mondstadt was… extra noisy.
In front of every notice board, people were crowding.
"Hey, hey, move! Let me see!"
"Is it about Stormterror? Yesterday that thing was still flying around—"
"Don't push!"
A short young man finally squeezed to the front, scanned it once — and his eyes almost fell out.
"'Regarding the Resolution of Mondstadt's Dragon Crisis — Stormterror is no longer a threat to Mondstadt.'"
For one long heartbeat, no one spoke.
Then the whole street boiled.
"WHAT?! Stormterror— won't attack us anymore?!"
"Is that real? The Knights didn't just… make this up, right?"
"Since when has the Knights of Favonius ever made up something this big?!"
"So… Jean really did it?!"
That was all it took.
News spread like Anemo.
People in the square, in the market, in the bars, on rooftops — everyone was talking.
At the Angel's Share and even outside Good Hunter, people were already ordering drinks "to celebrate the dragon being gone." Sara, hands full, shouted, "Stormterror's not attacking anymore! Fruit wine half price today!"
Mondstadt, which had been living under a dragon's shadow, finally exhaled.
...
Kairo's house, by contrast, was very, very quiet.
Sunlight slipped in through the gap in the curtains. The air smelled of morning dew.
Kairo was still very much asleep.
Which, obviously…
"Humph… as I suspected — sloth has once again seized thy dark wings!"
…could not be tolerated by a certain person.
The door eased open. A slender, golden-haired girl slipped in like a thief, peeking in first — and when she saw him still sprawled on the bed, she puffed out her cheeks.
It was Fischl.
Hands on her hips, she glared fiercely at the sleeping Kairo.
"Has the chorus of dawn failed to rouse thee?! Has the curse of drowsiness shackled thy soul?!"
She got angrier the more she talked.
So she just climbed onto the bed and started shaking him like she was trying to wake a hilichurl.
"Hey! Get up! Get up! You're sleeping again!"
Kairo: "...???"
He blinked awake, still foggy, saw the golden hair and purple clothes right in front of him, and yawned. "...Morning."
"Morning?!" Fischl's ahoge almost stood up. She folded her arms, very queenly. "Dost thou still have the face to speak of 'morning'?! The sun hath already risen to the meridian and yet thou wallowest in slumber — hath thy raven wing fallen?!"
Kairo listened to the perfectly intact chuuni paragraph…
…and for some reason, he actually felt a little nostalgic.
Yep. That was definitely Fischl.
He rubbed his temples lazily. "Couldn't help it. Yesterday was… a lot."
Fischl narrowed her eyes. "A lot? And what great undertaking hath drained the black-winged wanderer so much? Were you hunting night spirits? Or—" she suddenly raised her chin — "you forgot our appointment last night."
She had waited.
He'd said he'd be back.
He hadn't come back.
Kairo chuckled. "Nothing big. Just… settled the Stormterror incident."
"…"
Silence.
Fischl's expression… froze.
Her eyes got very wide.
"You… what didst thou just say?!"
"Stormterror's done," Kairo repeated, still half-reclining. "Crisis lifted."
"…"
Fischl stared at him.
This was Stormterror.
The literal dragon.
The one the entire Knights of Favonius was struggling with.
And he was saying it like he'd just gone to buy dandelion wine?
She tried to keep her "Princess der Verurteilung" face on, but her brain was spinning.
You went out for one night and saved Mondstadt??
Kairo blinked at her. "Didn't I tell you yesterday morning?"
"Hmph. The Prinzessin… forgot."
Fischl's cheeks turned a faint pink as she remembered last night's… distractions.
But when she thought of the city outside, where everyone was celebrating, yet none of them knew the real hero was lying right here on this bed…
…her lips curled, just a little.
"Since thou wert still fighting the darkness on Mondstadt's behalf at such a late hour…" she lifted her chin, very magnanimous, "then the Prinzessin shall reluctantly allow thee to continue thy slumber."
Kairo grinned. "Oh? So Her Highness means…"
"The Prinzessin…" Fischl coughed, eyes darting aside, "also happeneth to be free this morning. I shall… remain here. To observe the flow of time."
In other words: I'm not leaving.
Kairo raised a brow, eyes glinting. "You sure?"
"This is the Prinzessin's blessing. Thou shalt not refuse!"
"Okay."
Kairo suddenly reached out, caught her wrist — and gave a tug.
"Kyah—!"
Fischl had not expected a grapple check this early. She lost her balance and fell straight into his blanket.
Warm quilt, sun-warmed scent, and his smell wrapped around her all at once. Her face went crimson in a second.
"Y-you—! We were to rest, were we not?! What designs hath thou—!"
"Rest," Kairo said lazily, leaning back on the pillow. "You said you're staying. Then stay. Don't wriggle."
He patted the blanket like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Fischl was red all the way to the tips of her ears. Her mind was a mess. Her chuuni lines, usually ready at all times… all scattered.
Outside, Mondstadt was celebrating the end of the dragon disaster.
Inside, the one who actually ended it was… being shaken awake by his chuunibyou partner and then dragging her into bed to "rest."
And for Fischl…
it was kind of nice.
The same voice.
The same teasing.
The same safe room, cleaned by her own hands.
A familiar kind of… belonging.
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