The Ragnvindr family dinner was held in the private dining room on the winery’s second floor.
Though called a “family dinner,” the only family member present besides Master Diluc and their guests was his father, Crepus Veronique Ragnvindr.
This was Lumine and Paimon’s first time meeting the former head of the house.
He sat in an armchair beside the head of the table.
He was leaner than Diluc, his hair streaked with gray, and his jaw framed by a neatly trimmed short beard.
If one looked closely, the contours of his face were almost identical to Diluc’s, marked only by the passage of time.
“Welcome, Miss Honorary Knight and Miss Paimon of great renown,” Crepus said with a gentle smile, raising a hand in greeting.
“Diluc, why didn’t you tell me earlier that we had honored guests tonight? I would have brought out the finest wine the estate has to offer.”
“They don’t drink,” Diluc answered curtly, casting a brief look at his enthusiastic father.
“And neither can you. Doctor’s orders.”
Hearing his son’s reminder, Crepus sighed repeatedly, muttering under his breath about how meaningless life was if a Mondstadter couldn’t drink.
Paimon spun a cheerful circle in the air and floated over to the dining table.
Before the meal began, Crepus looked around and asked casually, “Diluc, why didn’t you invite Kaeya to the family dinner?”
Diluc’s brow twitched imperceptibly.
“…He’s busy.”
“During the Windblume Festival, the Cavalry Captain certainly has a lot on his plate,” Crepus nodded mildly, his tone warm as he refrained from pressing further.
Paimon quickly chimed in with a nervous laugh.
“Yeah, yeah! Kaeya must be busy organizing the festival guards or something… haha… probably!”
Diluc picked up his glass and took a sip.
Crepus let out a quiet sigh and smoothly shifted the topic to accommodate his guests.
“Speaking of which, how did the repair of that Light Cone go?” He looked at Lumine.
“I once searched far and wide for someone who could fix it, but my efforts were always in vain.”
Paimon immediately beat everyone to the answer.
“It was super tough! We looked for Lisa and Albedo, went to freeze in the cold wind at Starsnatch Cliff, and even fought Ruin Guards at the Temple of the Thousand Winds…”
Lumine briefly summarized the restoration process.
Crepus listened quietly until she finished, his eyes settling on the open box beside his son’s hand.
The image inside the Light Cone depicted an infant and a hand.
“That Light Cone was left to me by Diluc’s grandmother—my mother,” Crepus said, his voice drifting into a nostalgic cadence.
“My mother’s ancestors were not originally from Mondstadt; they migrated here from Snezhnaya. On their journey to Mondstadt, they nearly perished. But then, they encountered a kindhearted fairy.”
His gaze rested on the Light Cone, as if peering far into the past, recalling how his mother had told him the tale, and how he, in turn, had shared it with his son and his son’s friends.
“That fairy bestowed a name upon our ancestor. They said the name possessed the magic of good fortune and blessings, and would protect any descendant of that bloodline who bore it. A girl would be named ‘Veronica,’ and a boy, ‘Veronique.'”
He paused briefly.
“This tradition was preserved when our branch joined the Ragnvindr family, and it hasn’t been broken down to Diluc’s generation.”
Paimon blinked.
“So Master Diluc has a middle name too? Is it Veto—”
“Paimon,” Diluc interrupted, cutting off the flying companion’s curiosity right on time.
Crepus smiled faintly and continued. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
“That name truly brought good fortune to our family. Or rather, the protection granted by this Light Cone proved the reality of that blessing.”
He paused again, seemingly sinking into a memory.
“It was over a decade ago. I was leading a merchant convoy back to Mondstadt from Liyue. As we passed near the Whispering Woods, we were ambushed by monsters.”
Paimon gasped softly.
“It happened too suddenly to contact the Knights of Favonius. The escorting guards were just three ordinary knights, completely incapable of holding off monsters of that scale.” Crepus’s tone remained calm, as though telling someone else’s story.
“At that time, I happened to be carrying a Delusion.”
“A Delusion?!” Paimon’s voice pitched up.
“That… that thing that drains your life force?!”
“We destroyed a Delusion factory in Inazuma,” Lumine said.
“They drain a person’s life span. We almost lost a friend because of one.”
Paimon knew she was referring to Teppei.
Although Teppei had been saved when they expended a Light Cone on him, the Delusion had still cost him fifteen years of his life.
“Those things are extremely dangerous,” Lumine added.
“I know,” Crepus inclined his head.
“But I had no other choice back then. I used it.”
His rate of speech slowed slightly.
“The Delusion indeed granted me the power to defeat the monsters, but the cost manifested immediately. I could feel my life force rapidly slipping away, growing older and weaker with every passing second. At that moment, I thought I wouldn’t survive the night.”
His fingertips gently brushed the edge of the Light Cone.
“As my consciousness blurred, I reached into my coat and pulled out the Light Cone and the snowflake pendant left by my mother. I didn’t know what they could do. In the end, I simply held them tight and prayed…”
He remained silent for a long time.
“Then, a miracle happened.”
The dining room fell quiet, save for the soft, crisp crackle of firewood in the fireplace.
“The Light Cone emitted a remarkably warm light. A warmth like a winter afternoon sun spread slowly from the palm gripping it throughout my entire body. The evil force plundering my life was smoothed away, piece by piece.”
He raised his eyes to look at his son and guests.
“By the time I came to my senses completely, the monsters had fallen and the convoy was safe. My rapid aging stopped. Though the lost years wouldn’t return, the time I had left was bought for me by the Light Cone.”
He looked at the now faded, grayish-white Light Cone as if looking at a silent savior.
“From that day on, I knew that the Light Cone left by my mother contained a power far beyond my understanding.”
Diluc said nothing, holding his wine glass in silence.
Paimon was unusually quiet, her chewing jaws coming to a slow halt.
Crepus looked at his son and let out a gentle sigh, his heavy tone shifting into helpless banter.
“Still, for you to repair it and even come keep an old man like me company over dinner… I am already deeply grateful. If our Darknight Hero at home could throw fewer tantrums and reconcile with his brother sooner, my happiness would be complete.”
“*Cough—cough, cough!*”
Diluc, who was taking a sip of wine, was hit point-blank by the words “Darknight Hero.”
He choked violently, a flush rising rapidly across a face that was usually cool and composed.
Paimon instantly covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking like a leaf.
Lumine tried her best to maintain a deadpan expression, but the corners of her lips were twitching uncontrollably.
There was a special kind of agony in having an elder read out your embarrassing alias in dead earnest.
“Father,” Diluc set his glass down, his voice significantly tighter than usual.
He looked at Lumine and said seriously, “Though we do not know the fairy who bestowed the name, that blessing protected me, and I am forever grateful. If possible, I hope that one day I might learn what is actually written in the inscription.”
Paimon immediately raised her hand.
“Lumine knows! She already deciphered it!” She turned and looked at Lumine with expectant eyes.
“It was… something about hope, right?”
“Hope in Winter,” Lumine said, looking at Paimon helplessly.
This mascot remembered nothing but food.
“‘In a small snowfield, the Emperor of Frost and Snow bestowed a name upon an infant.
“May you grow strong and become the hope in winter,” he said.'”
***
As the night deepened, the family dinner drew to a close.
Crepus did not press Lumine for further details; every friend had their secrets.
For the original Veronica, having a five-hundred-year-old blessing delivered down to the present day through a Light Cone was already more than enough.
Diluc walked Lumine and Paimon to the winery entrance.
“The reward has been transferred to your account at the Adventurers’ Guild.”
Paimon yawned, nestling against Lumine’s shoulder.
“Master Diluc, if you ever have any fun commissions again, be sure to call us!”
Diluc didn’t answer, giving only a slight nod.
Lumine turned to leave.
After a few steps, she suddenly stopped and looked back.
“Diluc.”
Diluc looked at her inquisitively.
Lumine thought for a moment, then said, “Your father’s Darknight Hero… is actually pretty cool.”
Diluc: “…”
The corners of Lumine’s mouth curved upward slightly.
Then, carrying the sleepy Paimon, she vanished into the night air of the Windblume Festival.
She left only the master of the winery standing in the wind for a long time, his expression complex beyond words.
It was hard to say whether he was silent because his “Darknight Hero” title had been publicly executed to his face, or because a certain blonde traveler had delivered a rare piece of heartfelt praise.
Mondstadt’s night breeze blew gently, as though an offbeat deity was paying attention to this very matter.
When Lumine had almost been ambushed while fighting the Ruin Guard, a whisper on the wind had warned her to watch her back.
Lumine had also guessed whose memory resided inside that Light Cone.
A five-star Light Cone was precious.
Since Veronica was merely an ordinary person, the unique element was the fairy who had bestowed the blessing.
Besides the baby, there was a hand on the card…
In modern contexts, the Emperor of Frost and Snow usually referred to the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya.
But if one spoke of thousands of years ago, he must have been a mutual friend of Zhongli and Venti.
And in that blizzard, an infant had been gently gifted a name, a blessing that endured to this day to protect Veronica’s descendants.
Just as Zhongli had said, he was a generous god.