"Let's slip in quietly—no one should open their mouths."
Venti placed a slender fingertip against his thin lips, signaling for silence.
They were currently at Mondstadt Cathedral.
Outside the courtyard, the sunlight was dazzling.
Under the glass dome, its shadow fell sharply onto the floor like a blade. Neat rows of palm trees lined both sides, where scattered flecks of light flickered through overlapping leaves. The greenery felt so thick it seemed about to drip down.
Venti leaned against the marble column by the cathedral doors, his lively, delicate eyes glancing inside as he spoke to Seino Fugin:
"The Holy Lyre der Himmel should be hidden deep within the cathedral."
The Holy Lyre der Himmel was a precious relic of Mondstadt, said to be a holy instrument once held by the Anemo Archon, Barbatos.
But now, the two of them were planning to steal this holy relic, with Lumine waiting outside to cover for them.
Clearly, this was a crime.
"…," Seino Fugin realized he was on a thief's ship.
Sure, he might call himself a "suspicious Inazuma spy," but in his previous life, he was at least an upright Vice-Captain in the Knights of Favonius. Having joined their ranks, how could he be stealing his own city's sacred relic?
Moreover, the self-proclaimed "World's Greatest and Most Incredibly Powerful Bard"—that was exactly how she introduced herself just now—looked suspicious no matter how he saw it.
She claimed that, if she got hold of the Holy Lyre der Himmel, she was confident in calming the mad Sky Dragon.
Highly suspicious.
Logically, Seino Fugin shouldn't trust a stranger so readily. Yet somehow, he believed her, chose to follow her. Quite naturally, he'd decided to trust her.
Naturally followed her, letting intuition override thought, trailing after her into Mondstadt Cathedral. Should he praise her for being so convincing, or blame himself for being too gullible?
It was all very strange.
"…Why not just try to borrow it, though?"
Making a last attempt, Seino—well aware he was already skirting the law—advised, "If you explain the situation, the nuns at the cathedral might be willing to lend it to you."
"I tried, but it failed." The young woman shook her head. "The nuns said that no one but Lord Barbatos himself has the right to wield the Holy Lyre der Himmel."
"Huh? Didn't you try to talk your way around them?"
Seino Fugin thought, Use your specialty.
"I tried, but it failed."
"How exactly did you try?"
"I told the nun: 'I can't hide this anymore, so let's lay it all out. I am Barbatos Himself, my devout believer—rejoice, for I stand before you in person…'"
The girl placed one hand upon her chest, raised the other hand to the sky. The bright, resplendent sunlight shone down on her, and in a dramatic, operatic tone often used on stage, she declared reverently and solemnly, "'My faithful follower—!'"
Utter nonsense.
This bard never seemed serious about anything.
"That'd fool a ghost, maybe."
Seino Fugin shook his head, exasperated. He half-joked, "If you're Barbatos, then I must be Wolf Pup Rostam."
"Mm-hmm." The girl laughed softly. She shrugged, an ambiguous smile on her face, impossible to read. "Ehehe."
When she laughed, her autumn-water-like eyes seemed to flow. It was as if they were speaking on their own. She clasped her slender hands behind her back, tilted her head, the two thin braids sliding over one side of her neck, and said:
"In any case, we can't obtain the Holy Lyre der Himmel by official means."
Seino Fugin let out a weary sigh, his expression dark. Though he had lived a short life this time, he had remained a decent person. He never thought he would stoop to being a burglar who steals from his own city.
What would future generations say about Seino Fugin's life?
Wolf Pup Rostam, age 27, fought to the death alone on the battlefield. Pillar General Seino Reimei, age 500, perished after slaying a great serpent… Meanwhile, Seino Fugin, the teenage lad, died in a bungled theft attempt, arrested within three short months…
Once again, Seino Fugin asked himself:
—Why did I get on this person's shady boat?
They made their way deep into Mondstadt Cathedral, lightly stepping across the stone walls. The cathedral was huge. One row of pews after another spread out, all circling around the central statue. Groups of two or three nuns in dark uniforms strode across thick carpets, their footsteps nearly muffled.
His body felt increasingly nimble.
Having inherited Rostam's memories, Seino Fugin had gained not only a raw boost in power, but also the Wolf Pup's experiences:
The pup's instincts, the pup's intuition, even a leap in the very quality of life.
Level 70—he had practically stepped into the realm of heroic humans.
Seino landed lightly on a beam. He felt as if he were a gust of wind—when wind sweeps through grass, it's silent. No mortal would sense it pass by. Gliding past guard after guard, he slipped deftly through traps and triggers. With a steady mind, everything in his vision seemed transparent. He sensed the aura of the Lyre—gentle, airy, flowing with Anemo.
Suddenly, he paused. Another aura seeped in, right beside the Holy Lyre der Himmel. No, it was there all along—Seino Fugin was the latecomer, comparatively.
He had only sensed that aura in one place before: on that stormy night, across the boundless sea, aboard the Fatui's envoy ship.
A Delusion.
That was the aura radiating from a Delusion.
Someone else had gotten there first.
Realizing this, Seino Fugin crouched slightly, the airflow around him dispersing. His figure flickered, disappearing from his spot. Swifter than the rising wind, in an instant, he arrived at the hidden chamber where the Holy Lyre der Himmel was kept.
But he was still too late.
"Tsk."
The room was empty. The Holy Lyre der Himmel was nowhere to be seen. That gentle, breezy Anemo aura was rapidly moving away from the cathedral.
Seino Fugin wanted to give chase, but the sounds of guards echoed behind him.
It was obvious the intruder had deliberately alerted the guards.
They noticed the disappearance of the Lyre and quickly gathered, their iron boots thudding on the marble floors in perfect unison.
"Tsk," Seino Fugin grumbled again under his breath.
The Fatui… They had their eyes on the Holy Lyre der Himmel as well. He coughed, releasing a faint icy breath.
——
Angel's Share.
It was Mondstadt's most famous tavern. Swords-for-hire and all sorts of mercenary folks enjoyed coming here to drink and chat. Even before the sky fully darkened, the place was packed. Under the dim, hazy lamplight, the air was thick with the fragrance of malt beer.
Likewise, since people from all walks of life gathered here, all sorts of information circulated too.
"Someone snatched it first?"
Paimon placed her tiny hands on her hips, a look of disbelief on her face. Clearly, the little Paimon also knew how valuable the Holy Lyre der Himmel was. Leaving everything else aside, the fact that it had been preserved for over a thousand years alone made it a priceless antique.
Worth a fortune.
Thinking of this, she furrowed her brow and glared at Seino Fugin, waving her hands in frustration. "Waaah! We've lost so much money!"
"…We didn't steal the Lyre to sell it. We have a more noble purpose, you know."
Seino Fugin wondered why such a fairy-like creature had money on her mind at all times.
He looked idly at the mug of ale in his hand, breathing in the strong alcoholic aroma and the mellow scent of malt. The liquor was clear, little bubbles glimmering—Seino Reimei had been a drinker, even leaving behind a note about a century-aged cask of malt buried under a tree in the yard.
But Seino Fugin rarely drank. He'd firmly believed it would shorten his life.
If memory served, in this lifetime he'd only drunk once. The one time had been with that sailor named McCa.
Seino Fugin could still recall the taste of that ale—bitter and sour. He had just recovered from the freezing of his heart, his whole body trembling. The old sea dog had quietly put him onto a raft, given him some dry rations, and returned God Cutter to him.
Then they shared a drink.
The beer was bitter and sour, tinged with the brine of the sea.
He wondered how that old man was doing now—such a veteran likely made it out safely, right?
Maybe… But Seino Fugin really couldn't say.
"Found it."
A man's voice interrupted Seino's thoughts.
—Diluc, the owner of this tavern, though his true identity was more than that. One might even say he possessed the broadest intelligence network in Mondstadt.
The two had become acquainted from their last battle together. Seino Fugin came secretly to see Diluc because he wanted him to gather information on the Holy Lyre der Himmel.
Seino Fugin had a hunch the Lyre was the key to solving their dilemma.
"The Fatui delegation is staying at the 'Mondstadt Hotel,'" Diluc said gravely. "Yet if they truly stole the Lyre, I doubt they'd keep it somewhere so obvious."
"Agreed," Seino Fugin nodded.
"We've narrowed down a few possible locations." Diluc tapped a spot on the map, somewhere out in the countryside. "It's possible they have a base there."
"I see."
Seino responded, his gaze drifting to the mug of ale before him.
"Are you going there?" Diluc asked. He still remembered that time when Seino lost consciousness without warning, his whole body as cold as an ice pit, his heart on the verge of stopping. "Is your body okay?"
Diluc rather admired the young man, so he ventured an extra question.
"Heh, I'm fine. Strong enough to last a few hundred years."
Seino Fugin downed the ale in a single gulp, feeling the hot sting trickle through his throat. Angel's Share really did serve excellent drinks; now he understood why his past self had liked alcohol so much.
Only fine liquor can cap a life's grand finale.
"Seino, Seino—Seino, you Drowned Corpse!"
It was already completely dark outside when they left the tavern. The dim daylight had receded, and Mondstadt's night breeze, scented with the windmills' gentle rustle, caressed them.
Paimon fluttered around Seino Fugin, tilting her little head curiously. "Why didn't you ask Lumine to come with you?"
Her curiosity was obvious.
In fact, nobody knew that Seino Fugin had come to meet Diluc. He had shooed away that bard, made a grilled fish for Lumine, then told them he and Paimon were going to buy groceries before slipping out.
"Paimon." Seino paused, a bit hesitant. Finally, he said, "I want to talk to you about something."
"What is it?"
Paimon cocked her small head, looking straight at him.
Her biggest impression of Seino Fugin was that he cooked delicious grilled fish—Seino always gave her the best pieces, so in her eyes, he was a pretty nice guy.
They often squabbled. From Windwail Highland to Mondstadt, their journey had been a noisy one. Paimon was still thinking about how she used to tease him about his "corpse."
"Paimon," he said, "I might have to leave first."
"What do you mean?" Paimon blinked. "You're going on a trip by yourself?"
Seino Fugin smiled at the little creature. "Yes. I'm heading somewhere very, very far away."
"Whaaat?" Paimon put her hands on her hips. "That's so unfair—sneaking off on your own and not taking us."
"Exactly."
Seino's tone turned sharp. "I don't want to 'play' with you guys anymore."
"Wha… You!"
Paimon jabbed a finger at his nose, ready to hurl some scathing insult at him, but no fitting words came to mind. She just grumbled, "You're too mean. Paimon's going to give you a terrible nickname!"
"Haha, 'Drowned Corpse' is bad enough."
"From now on, Paimon's going to call you 'Hanba'—some higher-level zombie!"
"You just upgraded my undead rank?"
Seino tapped her head lightly and concluded, "Anyway, that's that. Go tell Lumine I don't want to hang around with you all anymore. You guys are too weak and just get in my way. I'm going solo."
"Ahhh!" Paimon waved her fists, leaping in frustration, punching Seino's chest with her small hands. "Drowned Corpse! You're so awful!"
How dare he say Paimon was weak… She—Paimon… well, anyway, you can't say that!
Fine, then. She'd just stop snatching his food from now on! She'd leave him all the good stuff! Why'd he have to say something like that?
Paimon was genuinely angry, more than she'd ever been. She crossed her arms, tiny fangs clenched, making a grinding sound. She glared at Seino Fugin, trying to intimidate him with her eyes. But he was so thick-skinned it had no effect.
At last, she gave in. "Drowned Corpse, you're terrible!"
"Paimon's not passing on your message! Paimon's done talking to you!"
With that, she hung her head, looking like a dejected kitten, gave Seino one final glance, then turned away and flew off. Fading evening light silhouetted her small figure.
Seino Fugin watched her small shape disappear. Pulling out some malt beer he had just bought from the tavern, he took a swig.
Strong taste. Definitely shortens your life.
He paused, rummaged in his pocket, and took out a pouch of tobacco—left behind by Seino Reimei. With unfamiliar fingers, he shook the tobacco onto a paper, rolled it up clumsily, and struck a match.
Thin curls of smoke drifted away into the cool night air.
"Cough."
Seino let out a soft cough.
It was his first time smoking, obviously unpleasant. The strange taste burned in his nasal cavity, and he coughed harder and harder, half-kneeling on the ground. Smoke swirled in front of his eyes.
"Cough… cough, cough."
He coughed up a heavy chill—and blood.
Cigarettes tasted awful.
He straightened up, gently wiped God Cutter, pulled his clothes tighter, and headed toward Mondstadt's outskirts.
——
The Fatui.
One of the most powerful organizations on the continent of Teyvat, with agents planted in all seven nations. You could even say they had bases in all seven.
And Seino Fugin now stood before one of the Fatui's strongholds in Mondstadt.
Heavily guarded.
Thick-walled fortifications, the dank chill of moist stone, layer upon layer of defenses. Each level held soldiers equipped with Delusions.
Night's cloak enveloped everything. The murky forest provided perfect cover for the Fatui. But the wind could penetrate these fortress walls, and Seino Fugin tread lightly upon the breeze, touching the ground with the tips of his toes before springing forward again. His snowy-white hair whipped in the air. With each surge, another soldier silently dropped to the ground.
He invaded at lightning speed.
Seino Fugin's movements were fluid. Having inherited Rostam's martial arts, his control of force had reached astounding levels.
Before they could react, the hilt of God Cutter would tap the back of a soldier's head, sending them unconscious.
It was going smoothly.
Yes, infiltration was going very smoothly.
Seino Fugin had a masterful understanding of how to sneak in.
Glancing back, he saw row upon row of fallen soldiers, speechless and unmoving. By taking them all out, no one was left to raise the alarm.
He had broken through the entire floor of defenses.
He was close to the Lyre now.
Ascending the steps, Seino Fugin came to a massive metal door. He knocked lightly; elemental power rippled, and a current of wind slipped through the lock. A click sounded as the door unlocked itself.
A fierce wind slammed into him.
"A rat… so that's how you crawled in…"
A deep voice, dark and raspy.
Seino Fugin spotted a faint shadow lunging toward him at high speed. He stepped back half a pace. A blade, curved like a crescent moon, flashed through the air, the killing intent so dense it almost felt solid.
Had he not stepped back, the blade would have slashed his throat.
[Fatui: Agent]
[Level: 60]
So this was one of the Fatui's "agents?"
Shrouded in a blood-red cloak, the figure was wrapped in black cloth from head to toe. Missing that first strike, he crouched low. His form gradually dissolved, as if ink washing into water, vanishing into the darkness.
The next strike came from behind.
Seino Fugin raised God Cutter, sparks exploding into the air. The man's attacks grew faster, swirling so densely there was no gap, creating layer upon layer of afterimages in the night, like a storm of continuous slashes.
They were formidable.
Seino twisted aside, narrowly dodging the strike aimed at his front. Spinning God Cutter in a quick counter, he scattered the swirling sword energy. Within the emptiness of his calm mind, he saw clearly where the next assault would appear.
Though the agent could cloak himself, he was completely visible to Seino's keen eyes!
"Hah…" Seino let his Anemo power surge. God Cutter trembled softly, letting out a low hum. Closing his eyes, the entire world narrowed to a single point.
He unleashed God Cutter in a fierce arc—the wind roared, lightning flared, all swirling together to pierce the agent.
Eyes wide with disbelief, the man clutched his chest. Unable to maintain his invisibility any longer, he coughed up blood, collapsing to his knees, defeated.
That settled it.
Seino Fugin exhaled gently.
Smooth. He hadn't expected things to go this smoothly—cleaning out the Fatui's local stronghold singlehandedly. If word got out, he might earn some flashy title like "Champion Against the Fatui," certainly better than "Drowned Corpse."
Amused by that strange thought, he walked into the hall and picked up the stolen Holy Lyre der Himmel.
The Lyre felt very light, not cold at all. Touching its strings, he felt a faint reverberation. Seino Fugin suddenly felt a strange sense of nostalgia.
As if the Lyre recognized him, too.
"I remember…"
Just then, the half-dead agent rasped from behind him. His torso was soaked in blood, the wound cleaving right through his chest so that white bone was visible.
"You're that kid we fished out of the sea. I remember you…heh, you sure managed to cling to life. Cockroaches do have a knack for surviving."
"Not all that long, actually."
Seino Fugin shrugged, turning to leave.
"That guy…that sailor. The one who let you go," the agent croaked. "His name was McCa, right? He hid himself well, but we still found him."
McCa.
Seino Fugin's steps faltered.
"What?"
"Haha, that old fool, so ungrateful! Want to know what we did to him? Haha, you really should've seen it—"
Spewing cruel words, he aimed to provoke Seino Fugin, to buy time:
"Huh, all that talk of some 'pure sea'—it's so stupid, haha. I heard he's got a son, right? Hahaha, a traitor's son needs to die too."
God Cutter pierced the man's thigh. With a small flick, the limb flew upward, the agent letting out a blood-curdling howl.
"If you have something to say, say it plainly," Seino remarked. "No need for this nonsense. You're just baiting me—there's no point."
Seino seized the man by his hair, yanking him forward. His dark-purple eyes were calm, utterly without emotion—calm enough to terrify.
"You said he's in a terrible state, which means he's still alive. You even mentioned his son, implying you want to threaten me. Next, you'll likely propose some deal, something like, 'If you want him to live, then…' that usual drivel."
Those eyes were so cold and unnerving that the agent felt true fear for the first time.
"But I'll go along with your scheme," Seino said.
"…Why?" the man stammered.
"I've despised owing people favors for countless lifetimes, and I'm also quite prideful." Seino lifted God Cutter again, wiping off the blood. The blade gleamed, reflecting his face. "Where is that man? I'll go alone."
The Agent, a Fatui assassin who had claimed many lives, had never been so afraid.
"He's with… La Signora…" he quivered.