"This isn't arrogance," Severin replied calmly. "Any power comes at a price. That is an iron law—even power not granted by gods is no exception. The Abyssal force you speak of likely demands a cost far beyond what you can truly bear. Otherwise, you wouldn't be trying to pull me into your ranks today."
The power of the Abyss was undeniably tempting to anyone who sought strength.
Back then, the ancient nation of Khaenri'ah had surpassed the combined strength of the Seven Nations without relying on any gods. What fueled that meteoric rise was precisely this power.
At its peak, Khaenri'ah might not even have fallen before the combined might of the Seven. Only the Heavenly Principles themselves were capable of suppressing it.
But Severin had long since chosen his own path of ascension.
Mastering the Seven Elements was merely one step in his greater plan.
Lumine looked at him with a mixture of frustration and disappointment, as if he were iron that refused to be forged.
"Very well," she said coldly. "It sounds like you've rejected my goodwill. Then let us prove whose path is right in the end. I only hope that when the time comes, you won't come crying to me."
"Courtesy demands reciprocity," Severin replied evenly. "Miss Lumine, you've offered me a warning—so allow me to return the favor."
"Those who battle dragons for too long eventually become dragons themselves.
Those who stare into the Abyss for too long… will find the Abyss staring back."
Lumine's expression tightened.
Severin's warning was not without merit.
Throughout Teyvat's long history, stories of dragon-slayers turning into monsters of their own making were far from rare.
Still, she disliked the way he spoke to her now.
What she missed instead was the man from two years ago—the Prince who sat quietly in his manor, absorbed in books. Even casual conversation with him back then had brought her an inexplicable sense of ease.
"My affairs are none of your concern," she said sharply. "Prince of Snezhnaya, I'll ask you one last time. Do you truly intend to stand against the Abyss?"
"I won't need to lift a finger," Severin replied. "Those destined to oppose the Abyss are already on their way."
"I'm very curious to see how this ends—whether it becomes a soul-stirring reunion between siblings… or a clash of blades."
His words carried layered meaning.
"You mean my brother?" Lumine narrowed her eyes. "So you've already glimpsed some of the secrets between us…"
"But that doesn't matter. Unease is spreading across Teyvat. Abyssal power is boiling beneath the surface. A great calamity may be approaching."
The Tsaritsa had sensed the coming judgment of the Heavenly Principles.
Now Lumine spoke of the Abyss stirring.
It seemed that in the not-too-distant future, Teyvat truly would face an earth-shattering upheaval.
The present peace was nothing more than the calm before the storm.
"That's why," Lumine continued, "each meeting we have from now on may be our last. Take care, Prince of Snezhnaya."
"I hope you don't fall before I do. If you did, I'd look down on you."
"Live to the very end—only then can you witness that the path I chose was the correct one."
"Likewise," Severin answered.
"Hmph."
With a cold snort, Lumine departed, escorted by the elite of the Abyss Order, vanishing into the depths of the forest.
Severin waited alone for a while longer. When the timing felt right, he went to rejoin the Traveler.
"Your Highness," Aether asked, "did you find anything?"
"No. I couldn't locate the Abyss Mages. I'm sorry—the trail has gone cold."
"It's fine… really," Aether sighed.
He scanned the surroundings, then spoke with quiet certainty.
"Even though I didn't see my sister, I believe what you said. She really was here. The air still carries traces of her starlight—her unique presence."
Paimon floated in circles, scratching her head.
"What starlight? All I smell is Sunsettia and Sweet Flower. Oh! Speaking of Sweet Flower, I heard Good Hunter makes an amazing Sweet Madame!"
She was already lost in fantasies of food.
"Paimon," Aether said flatly, "we just ate Sticky Honey Roast this afternoon."
"I know, I know! I'm just planning ahead for tomorrow!"
"But we're almost out of Mora," Aether sighed. "I can barely afford to keep you fed."
Paimon brightened. "Then why don't we go to Katheryne tomorrow and take on more commissions?"
"That still won't be enough—you eat too much. Prince Severin is rich. Why don't you follow him instead? You'd have endless food, and you wouldn't have to rough it with me on adventures."
Paimon didn't even hesitate.
"Wait—really?! If I stay with His Highness, can I eat Sticky Honey Roast every day?"
Severin smiled faintly. "Of course."
Aether seized the moment. "See? His Highness agreed."
"Yay—wait! Hey! That sounded like you were trying to kick me out! Waaah—I don't ever want to leave you again!"
Remembering how Severin had snatched her away earlier that day, Paimon rubbed her eyes and burst into tears.
Aether pulled her into a tight hug, his own eyes misting over.
"I'm sorry, Paimon. I was just joking."
After comforting her, he turned to Severin.
"Your Highness… are you leaving Mondstadt tomorrow?"
"Oh?" Severin asked mildly. "What makes you think so?"
"At the Goth Grand Hotel, I saw your attendant packing luggage. Everyone else seemed busy preparing too."
"As you observed," Severin said, "my journey is about to proceed to its third destination."
Aether lowered his head respectfully. "I don't know your true objective, but I do know you're someone who handles great affairs. Leaving in such haste… it must be something even more urgent than my search for my sister."
"Yeah!" Paimon chimed in. "Mondstadt is so pretty—and the food and taverns are amazing. You should really stay and enjoy it!"
"The wine here is intoxicating," Severin admitted. "But enjoyment isn't quite the word."
He looked at them both.
"Traveler, do you know what I enjoy most?"
Aether and Paimon straightened instinctively.
This Prince of Snezhnaya—so different from any noble they had met—clearly had little interest in material pleasures.
So what did he value?
"Standing atop a high mountain, watching the blazing sun rise over the distant sea," Severin said slowly.
"Standing at the eastern shore, gazing upon a lone sail returning after braving towering waves."
Aether began to grasp the meaning.
"Your Highness… you're talking about hope, aren't you?"
"Hope," Severin replied softly, "is what I cherish most. And it is also the most luxurious thing in this world."
The Next Morning — Windrise
At Windrise, the Statue of The Seven glowed with sacred light.
Beneath the towering ancient tree, Jean stood alone.
Whenever she faced indecision or worries she could not set aside, she came here—to speak her heart to the great tree.
"Last night, Lord Barbatos appeared to me in a dream," Jean said quietly.
"He told me that the so-called 'Pact of the Leeward Wind' was a forgery he created long ago, modeled after the Geo Lord's notes."
"This truth must be revealed to the people of Mondstadt. The Lawrence Clan are not traitors."
"Their ancestors have already paid the price. Their descendants deserve the same rights and justice as any other citizen of Mondstadt."
"Otherwise… hatred will never truly end."
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