Had the Anemo Archon truly answered him?
For several long seconds, no one inside the Grand Master’s office moved.
The newly formed Anemo Vision hovered above Lucian Vale’s palm, turning slowly as pale-green light spilled across the room.
A cool breeze circled his fingers, carrying the unmistakable sensation of freedom that every citizen of Mondstadt associated with Barbatos.
Most of the spectators could not look away from it.
The Vision bearers among them, however, soon noticed something even more astonishing.
Their eyes shifted toward Lucian’s waist.
A second Vision already hung there.
Its gem shone green as well, but with the deeper hue of Dendro rather than Anemo.
Could one person possess two Visions?
No one present knew the answer.
As far as any of them understood, such a thing had never happened.
Lucian reached up and pinched the floating Anemo Vision between two fingers.
He was about to attach it to his belt when he remembered that Nefer’s fake Dendro Vision already occupied the most convenient place.
He considered replacing it.
Then he decided against the effort.
He did not need the Anemo Vision immediately, so he opened a reflective passage into Man in the Mirror and casually dropped it inside.
That effortless gesture only deepened the silence.
Lucian looked around the room.
“Well?” he asked.
“Does that clear my name?”
No one answered.
They were still trying to understand what they had witnessed.
Once the initial shock faded, the situation became painfully awkward.
Barbara’s accusations about the holes at Windrise could not be proven.
The knights who found her had seen no damaged ground, and now an Anemo Vision had appeared in Lucian’s hand immediately after he declared that Barbatos would vindicate him.
From the perspective of everyone present, the conclusion was obvious.
The Anemo Archon had acknowledged Lucian.
That made the idea that he had maliciously blasphemed Barbatos difficult to defend.
Jean brought Barbara forward and apologized for the misunderstanding.
To make amends properly, she offered to pay for Lucian’s lunch.
Varka immediately invited himself along.
Since the Knights of Favonius would cover the bill, refusing a free meal would have been wasteful.
Besides, it was an excellent opportunity to strengthen his relationship with the mysterious Descender who had rescued Diluc and apparently negotiated directly with the Anemo Archon.
Naturally, Varka would never admit that second reason aloud.
Their destination was Good Hunter, one of the most popular and reliable restaurants in the City of Mondstadt.
As they walked, Barbara repeatedly glanced toward Lucian.
She opened her mouth several times, hesitated, and closed it again.
Jean gave her several pointed looks.
Barbara understood perfectly well that her sister wanted her to apologize directly.
Unfortunately, understanding what she should do did not make finding the words any easier.
Varka noticed the silence and decided to rescue everyone from it.
“Brother Lucian,” he said with his usual easy familiarity, “how did you contact the Anemo Archon?
And how did you convince him to grant you a Vision?”
Both Jean and Barbara immediately stopped their silent argument.
Their attention sharpened.
Varka had grown up hearing stories of Barbatos.
For all his experience as Grand Master, this was likely the closest he had ever come to receiving direct evidence of the Anemo Archon’s presence.
Lucian answered as though the matter were ordinary.
“That was simple.
Barbatos enjoys drinking, so I traded wine for the Vision.”
The three Mondstadters stopped walking.
“Wine?” Jean repeated.
“There are old stories claiming that Lord Barbatos enjoys alcohol,” Barbara murmured.
Apparently, those stories had been true.
The idea that one could exchange wine for divine recognition sounded absurd.
Then again, this was the God of Freedom.
If any Archon would accept such an unconventional bargain, it would probably be Barbatos.
Lucian had corrected Venti’s historical performance almost immediately after entering Mondstadt.
Perhaps he had met the Anemo Archon before arriving at the city gates.
Barbara’s hesitation vanished beneath her excitement.
“Then you have actually met Lord Barbatos?”
Jean tugged lightly at the back of Barbara’s dress and gave her a warning look.
Barbara ignored it.
Lucian nodded.
“I have.”
Her eyes brightened.
“What is he like?”
“Easygoing.
Shameless.
Surprisingly poor at holding his liquor.”
Somewhere in an inn, Venti sneezed.
Lucian continued before Barbara could ask for a detailed description.
“As for his appearance, he prefers to remain anonymous.
I won’t expose him before he is ready.”
Barbara’s shoulders lowered in disappointment.
She had dreamed of meeting Barbatos for years.
Even an autograph would have been precious enough to preserve for the rest of her life.
Barbara was a beloved idol to the people of Mondstadt.
To her, Barbatos was the greatest idol of all.
Still, Lucian had given her more than she expected.
“I understand,” she said.
Then, before her courage disappeared, she bowed.
“And… I’m sorry about what happened earlier.
I misunderstood you.”
Lucian waved it away.
“It’s fine.
Adults shouldn’t hold grudges against children.”
Barbara straightened immediately.
“I’m eighteen!”
“Congratulations.”
“That isn’t the point!”
Lucian’s expression remained perfectly serious.
He had lived for more than ten thousand years.
From his perspective, eighteen was not merely young.
It was practically yesterday.
Barbara muttered beneath her breath.
Why did everyone insist on treating her like a child?
Jean did it.
The Church did it.
Now this irritating outsider did it as well.
Surely it could not be because of her height.
Barbara glanced sideways at Jean, then at Varka, then up at Lucian.
Her indignation weakened.
She was, perhaps, somewhat short.
Walking beside Lucian, she did look uncomfortably small.
When they reached Good Hunter, Lucian recognized someone seated at an outdoor table.
Eula Lawrence was eating with Amber.
“We meet again.”
Lucian raised one hand in greeting.
Eula looked up.
For a moment, surprise crossed her face.
Then she nodded before she could think better of it.
Amber’s expression shifted from curiosity to caution.
Who was this man?
More importantly, why did he know Eula?
Amber did not understand every secret in her friend’s heart, but she knew Eula was kind, loyal, and far better than Mondstadt’s treatment of her suggested.
The Lawrence name had ruined countless first impressions before Eula even spoke.
If this stranger intended to take advantage of her loneliness, Amber would test him very carefully.
Fortunately, Lucian did not approach their table.
After exchanging a simple greeting, he continued with Jean, Barbara, and Varka to another table.
Amber released a quiet breath.
Then she looked back at Eula.
Eula had become distracted.
Her knife moved through the steak in small, absent cuts while her attention remained fixed elsewhere.
Amber’s relief vanished.
No.
Surely not.
Had Eula become interested first?
Amber’s imagination raced ahead of reality, while Eula remained trapped in an entirely different line of thought.
Why had she answered him so naturally?
They had met only once, and that encounter had lasted a few minutes inside Angel’s Share.
Lucian had stared at her long enough to embarrass her, then openly dismissed the idea that she should inherit Mondstadt’s hatred of the Lawrence Clan.
The memory still made heat rise into her face.
At the nearby table, Varka pulled out a chair.
“Brother Lucian, have you met Eula before?”
“Once,” Lucian said.
“Yesterday afternoon at Angel’s Share.”
“Then you know who she is?”
Varka spoke a little louder than necessary.
His question drifted clearly toward Amber and Eula.
Both women listened, though for very different reasons.
“I do.”
Lucian’s tone was calm.
No disgust.
No hesitation.
No forced sympathy.
That simple answer stirred something in Eula.
People usually reacted to her identity in one of three ways.
Some treated her with open hostility.
Some hid their disgust behind strained politeness.
A rare few, like Amber, offered warmth so deliberate that Eula could still sense the pity beneath it.
Lucian’s reaction was different.
He simply did not care.
To him, she was Eula.
Not the descendant of sinners.
Not the surviving emblem of Mondstadt’s old aristocracy.
Not a woman who needed to apologize for crimes committed long before her birth.
Just Eula.
For the first time, she felt that she had met someone who understood the exact freedom she wanted.
Curiosity took root.
She wanted to know more about him.
The realization startled her even more because Lucian was a man.
Neither Eula nor Amber paid much attention to their food after that.
Both remained seated, quietly listening to the neighboring conversation.
Lunch arrived.
So did wine.
After several rounds, Varka’s mood grew increasingly enthusiastic.
He raised his cup and looked Lucian over.
“Brother Lucian, you have remarkable talent and an excellent constitution.
Why not register with the Knights of Favonius?”
Lucian lifted one eyebrow.
Varka continued.
“You possess an Anemo Vision, and Barbatos clearly favors you.
We could appoint you as an Honorary Knight.”
He considered the title.
“Perhaps the Anemo Knight?”
Lucian finished his drink in one swallow.
“That won’t work.
If I join the Knights, my boss will skin me alive.”
Varka laughed.
“With your strength, you’re still afraid of your employer?
You could leave and work independently.”
His finger drifted toward the green Vision hanging at Lucian’s waist.
Lucian glanced down at Nefer’s imitation Dendro Vision.
“This?”
He picked it up by the frame.
“This is the shackle that keeps me bound to the Curatorium of Secrets.”
Varka blinked.
Lucian’s mouth curved into a shameless smile.
“It’s fake.
My boss had someone make it especially for me.”
He paused for effect.
“A token of love.”
Varka’s eyes widened.
“So that’s the relationship between you?”
In his mind, the mystery instantly reorganized itself.
Lucian was not merely an employee of the Curatorium of Secrets.
He was the boss’s partner.
Jean looked equally surprised.
Barbara’s expression shifted for reasons she did not fully understand.
At the neighboring table, Eula’s hand stopped.
The knife and fork rested against the plate.
Her appetite disappeared.
A strange heaviness settled in her chest, sharp enough to be irritating and unfamiliar enough that she could not immediately name it.
She stood.
“I’m leaving.”
Amber nearly knocked over her chair in her hurry to follow.
It was over.
The exact disaster she had feared had already happened, and at breathtaking speed.
Eula had become interested in a man who was apparently already involved with someone else.
Amber hurried after her friend, while Lucian remained completely unaware that one careless joke had just ruined two women’s lunch.
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