"Ah-choo!"
Venti rubbed his nose, puzzled. No cats around, so why the sudden sneeze?
Of course, he hadn't stayed obediently in the shelter; he'd slipped out with the flimsiest of excuses. After all, with Svarog and Clara up here from the Underworld, he had to go greet them and find out what had brought them topside.
And how did he know they'd arrived?
When he sent Dvalin to smash the Wall of Preservation, he'd guided the winds over the entire city, letting the breezes weaving through every street and alley carry back everything they heard.
After all, his goal was to pressure Cocolia—not to harm innocent Overworlders. Those subtle winds helped anyone who needed it, giving them a bit of extra strength to escape. Without them, it would have been impossible for everyone to make it to the shelters before nightfall.
Of course, the residents would only assume they'd run for their lives on pure adrenaline, without a second thought that some force had aided them.
Meanwhile, he hadn't destroyed the city walls, so there was no need to worry about hordes of Rift creatures swarming in. Aside from the newborn Rift in the sky and those already within the city, most areas remained secure.
The former was for Seele to handle, while the latter had Silvermane Guards stationed around it.
True, this had shifted the brunt of the burden onto the diligent Guards, but some things couldn't be helped. Avoiding any civilian casualties was already a tall order—if he went too easy on the Guards as well, it'd raise eyebrows.
So, while he couldn't directly relieve the pressure on the Guards, he'd given the more severely injured ones a bit of help so they could hold out until backup arrived.
All in all, yesterday had seen Venti exhaust quite a bit of effort "solving" all those emergencies he'd created himself. This was his way of preparing for what lay ahead.
If he couldn't control even the smallest breeze here with precision, then reshaping landscapes and changing climates in the future would be a nightmare.
While mulling over these thoughts, the poet arrived outside Shelter 16, where Svarog and Clara were stationed.
This shelter was more crowded than the one where Pela was stationed, as it held residents not only from the Inner City but also those from the Outer City.
Looking around, Venti noticed that the clusters of people were divided along clear lines of social class, each group conversing quietly.
Most of them were buzzing about Dvalin, the name they'd given the "Wind Dragon."
In addition to this "dragon fever," there were murmurs of concern about dwindling supplies. So many people cooped up together naturally required food and water.
Though these shelters were well-maintained, they weren't stocked with a surplus of unused provisions. And transporting supplies to all the shelters would result in inevitable "losses" and "expenses," which would be a heavy blow to Belobog's resources.
In the end, Venti figured that within a week, strained by administrative, logistical, and public pressures, Cocolia would have to let people go home.
After all, they couldn't let the citizens starve in the shelters. With no provisions, it would make more sense to send them back to their homes where they could gather their own supplies to prepare for a long conflict.
The burden of post-crisis security would fall on the Silvermane Guards, who'd be pushed to patrol and work overtime.
Though some public grumbling was inevitable, it was far better than having people laze around in the shelters, bringing the entire city to a halt. At that rate, a single month without Dvalin's return would have the city in chaos.
With all this in mind, Venti estimated that the incident could be wrapped up in a week or two.
Drag it out any longer, and Cocolia might just snap.
Any other leader under the pressure of public outcry might step down with their dignity intact. But put too much pressure on Cocolia, and things could get dangerous.
She'd ruled for decades, sure, but her time with the Stellaron had warped her character, and how much of her original personality remained was anyone's guess.
Push that madwoman too hard, and she might head straight to Everwinter Hill to activate the Architect Automatons and raze Belobog herself.
Which, in turn, would trigger "the end of the world."
Then Venti would have no choice but to intervene in his full "god-form."
He had confidence he could tie everything up neatly in the end, but that outcome would do nothing to build Bronya's credibility as a leader. She'd be left with no chance to earn public support, and the Wildfires' efforts would be reduced to rubble.
Better to keep things from escalating to an outright face-off.
Navigating through the bustling shelter, Venti rounded a corner and spotted a purple-haired figure peering intently over a wall… Oh, it was Seele.
"Hmm? Seele, did you find something interesting? Scoot over and let me see."
At the sound of his voice, Seele spun around, shooting him a glare that made him flinch.
"Ah… On second thought, I just remembered a bottle of wine I left with Pela—"
Before he could slink away, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the wall.
"Don't even think about it! Come and take a look at this situation first!"
Seele pressed close behind him, unbothered by the proximity, her attention focused on the scene beyond the wall.
Venti, however, felt less than comfortable—Seele was small, yes, but with her scrappy background, she was… rather solid.
It was—well—just a bit uncomfortable.
Suppressing those thoughts, Venti peeked over the wall, where he spotted Svarog and Clara.
Svarog still had that unmistakable robotic titan look, while Clara was sitting amidst a circle of automatons, performing maintenance.
The Silvermane Guard supervising them looked astonished, while the apprentice next to him wore an equally gobsmacked expression.
"Alright… first you hold here, then line it up just right…"
With a flicker and a spark, Clara brought the automaton back to life, its mechanical saw arm whirring back into action.
The people gathered around broke into applause, showering Clara with praise.
Ever the shy one, Clara's face flushed bright red as she ducked behind Svarog, looking slightly overwhelmed.
Peeking around him, she spotted Venti crouching by the wall, watching her with what could only be described as a fond look.
"Ah—! It's Sister Venti!"
Clara's face lit up with excitement, her little finger pointing straight at him.
Everyone in the vicinity immediately turned to look his way.
Before Venti could even think of ducking out, he felt a firm push from behind.
Seele's voice drifted right into his ear.
"Go on, get in there and figure out why they came up here. Better not be trying to take our turf—"
How seriously does this girl take her job?!
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Thanks for reading! Let me know if you spot any mistakes or inconsistencies!
Posture and water check! Remember this is a fan translation!
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