["Ah—!"]
[The knight standing before Jean stared in terror behind her and screamed.]
[As the Acting Grand Master of Mondstadt—Jean Gunnhildr—stood on the brink of death,]
[the knight made his choice.]
[He turned and fled.]
[He had never seen such a terrifying Hilichurl.]
[Fear completely overwhelmed him.]
[But at that very moment—something eerie occurred.]
[Perhaps his scream had been too loud.]
[It drew the attention of the Hilichurl Brute.]
[The monster lifted its head and fixed its gaze on the fleeing knight.]
[With a powerful leap, it charged straight at him—]
[landing heavily and stomping down with a single foot.]
[The knight didn't even have time to scream.]
[His body began to collapse and disintegrate.]
[Like cubic fragments, it shattered piece by piece—]
[until it vanished completely before Jean's eyes.]
["Damn it!"]
[Jean glared furiously at the Hilichurl Brute's retreating back and drew her sword once more, trying to avenge her fallen comrade.]
[But the Hilichurl Brute didn't linger.]
[After crushing the knight to death, it turned and sprinted straight toward Mondstadt City.]
["Damn it… damn it…"]
[Looking at the devastation on the ground, at the wounded Knights of Favonius—]
[Jean swung her knight's sword through the air for the first time in her life, venting her grief and unwillingness.]
[Her squad had been toyed with by just two Hilichurls.]
[Casualties were severe.]
[How could she possibly face the people of Mondstadt like this?]
[But now was not the time for hollow rage.]
[Those monsters were already marching toward the city.]
[Jean gathered the knights who could still move and rushed back to Mondstadt without hesitation.]
Knights of Favonius Headquarters, Mondstadt.
Jean lowered her head, her face devoid of light.
She hadn't died.
She had survived.
But her subordinates had been trampled to death by the Hilichurl Brute—right before her eyes.
Even without personally experiencing it, Jean understood the agony and unwillingness of her future self shown on the light-screen.
That guilt left her unable to face—
The expectations of her family.
The trust of the Grand Master.
And the honor of Vennessa, the Lionfang Knight.
"I should have been the one to die…"
Jean murmured hollowly, as if her soul had already left her body.
She couldn't understand why—
At the critical moment—the Hilichurl Brute had suddenly changed targets and crushed her comrade instead.
That feeling only made it worse.
As if someone had died in her place.
"Jean!"
Lisa suddenly grabbed her shoulders.
Gone was her usual laziness.
Her expression was serious.
"Pull yourself together."
"This wasn't your fault."
"All of this was caused by the Fifth Descender."
The ambushing Hilichurl archer.
The Brute smashing through the formation.
The rest of the Hilichurls suddenly changing routes and advancing straight toward Mondstadt City.
Was all of this really Hilichurl intelligence?
Lisa—an Akademiya graduate—never believed in coincidences.
Hilichurls learning night raids.
Hilichurls learning ambushes.
Hilichurls learning diversion tactics?
She refused to believe that creatures with intelligence lower than a bard's
Could suddenly become this cunning overnight.
Combined with their abnormal strength and the terrifying power that caused bodies to collapse and vanish—
Lisa even suspected these weren't Hilichurls at all.
Just monsters wearing Hilichurl-shaped shells.
And their will—
Was clearly being controlled by the Fifth Descender.
Somewhere beyond Teyvat.
"Heh… the girl from Mondstadt survived."
A blond man watched everything with keen interest, occasionally offering commentary.
"If that knight hadn't abandoned the Acting Grand Master who had devoted herself to Mondstadt…"
"I'd be very curious how the Fifth Descender would've chosen."
Beside him, a warrior clad in purple-black armor spoke in a low voice.
"Vedrfolnir—what do you mean by that?"
"It's simple," Vedrfolnir chuckled.
"From the very beginning, the light-screen made it clear that the Fifth Descender believes many are unworthy of being remade."
"That fleeing knight abandoned his knightly duty."
"So naturally—he was eliminated."
Surtalogi glanced coldly at the smug Vedrfolnir.
Without another word, he muttered "boring," stood up, and walked out.
After teleporting back to his residence, he finally vented his displeasure.
"Hmph. Idiot."
"Ever since the light-screen appeared, you've lost the ability to predict Teyvat's future."
"And yet you still have the mood to play clever little games."
"Foolish—utterly foolish."
After venting, Surtalogi slowly calmed himself.
He summoned his disciple.
Moments later, space twisted—then shattered.
A breathtaking woman stepped out.
Silver hair.
Crimson eyes.
Black shorts and a perfectly honed figure.
"Master. You called for me?"
"Skirk," Surtalogi said flatly.
"I'm ordering you to go to Teyvat immediately."
"Investigate the Fifth Descender thoroughly."
Skirk's expression didn't change.
"Yes. Understood."
Before leaving, she paused and asked calmly:
"And the Fourth Descender?"
"No need to concern yourself with her," Surtalogi waved dismissively.
"At their peak, even the twins together couldn't match a half-awake Dainsleif."
"Aether, as the Prince of the Abyss, is acting in ways beneficial to us."
"But that Fifth Descender—"
"Is far too abnormal."
He looked at Skirk with meaningful eyes.
"Investigate him."
"And if you determine he can be defeated—"
"This variable is not part of our plan."
"Eliminating him early will bring peace of mind."
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