Jean, though barely past her twentieth year, had mastered the art of guardianship for Klee.
Her role as Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius demanded her full attention.
Every decision in Mondstadt, from trade disputes to festival plans, passed through her meticulous hands.
Lately, chaos reigned—Stormterror's rampages shook the city's walls.
The Fatui stirred trouble, their schemes a constant thorn in her side.
The Abyss Order whispered in the shadows, their machinations threatening Mondstadt's peace.
Jean longed to split herself into a dozen clones to tackle the mounting crises.
She yearned to take Klee on a carefree outing, perhaps to fry fish at Starfell Lake.
But time slipped through her fingers like Anemo wisps, leaving her bound to duty.
The other knights, equally swamped, couldn't spare a moment in this turbulent storm.
Kaeya: "Xander? The famed adventurer from Liyue, hailing from another world?" he mused.
Lumine: "Another world? Like me—a traveler from beyond Teyvat's stars?" she wondered.
Xander: "Well, I'll be—my name's reached Mondstadt's winds already," he chuckled.
Amber: "Another outlander like Lumine—I wonder what world he's from," she pondered.
Lisa: "@Jean, how about we summon this Xander to Mondstadt?" she suggested.
"He could handle our monster problem with ease, I'd wager," she added.
Jean: "But the Knights' affairs… I can't just delegate so easily," she hesitated.
Kaeya: "Come now, Captain—Lumine's an Honorary Knight; one more ally won't hurt," he teased.
Diluc: "Tch, the Knights of Favonius—useless, begging for outside help," he scoffed.
Jean: "@Xander, if you accept our commission, please come to Mondstadt swiftly," she requested.
"The Knights will ensure your efforts are well rewarded," she promised.
Xander: "A fine deal—pay me in Mora, and I'll tackle Stormterror by dawn," he agreed.
Five minutes ticked by, a fleeting breath in the broadcast's aftermath.
The virtual hall dimmed, its viewers scattered back to their corners of Teyvat.
Laughter from Klee's spoof lingered, a balm for the weary before sleep.
Most prepared for rest, duties awaiting them under the morning sun.
Yet the Seven Archons found no peace, their minds restless with the broadcast's revelations.
Sky Island had appeared onscreen, a celestial realm few dared to name.
Faruzan, Sustainer of Heavenly Principles, had been cast in the playful narrative.
The audacity of it—dragging a divine enforcer into a second creation jest.
The broadcast's power awed them, a force beyond even their godly grasp.
Faruzan's silence confirmed it—she held no sway over this mysterious stage.
High above on Sky Island, Faruzan stood beneath a canopy of golden light.
Her expression twisted, a subtle storm of confusion and unease brewing within.
As Teyvat's supreme arbiter, her existence was a secret to all but a few.
Demon gods and their kin knew her name, whispered in fear or reverence.
The Abyss Order's remnants, survivors of Kanria's fall, cursed her in their ruins.
To mortals, she was a myth, her visage unknown, her power unfathomable.
Yet the broadcast had unveiled her, a cameo in Klee's whimsical tale.
No mockery marred her image, but the exposure gnawed at her pride.
This first appearance heralded more—second and third spoofs loomed on the horizon.
What foolish role might they craft for her next, she wondered with dread.
"It matters little," she murmured, shaking her head with a heavy sigh.
Her time waned, wounds from Kanria's war sapping her celestial strength.
Her duty now was to endure, to guide her successor when the day arrived.
Far below, Xander reclined in his Liyue rental, the night's quiet enveloping him.
The broadcast's success warmed him, a job well done for Teyvat's delight.
He'd earned a lottery draw, a reward for his creative mischief.
But late-night draws felt ill-omened, a risk of misfortune he'd rather avoid.
Tomorrow would bring better luck, he decided, settling into his bed.
The Shadowfang Blade rested nearby, its faint hum a comforting lullaby.
Morning broke over Liyue Harbor, the sun climbing with a golden glow.
Xander rose early, the dawn's light painting his room in soft hues.
He gazed at the rising sun, its warmth a promise of new beginnings.
A memory stirred—an old animated tale of a lion king under a similar sky.
He hummed a tune in his mind, a rhythmic chant of joy and freedom.
The urge to sing swelled, a melody of "Hakuna Matata" on his lips.
He caught himself, a cough breaking the impulse before it escaped.
Belting out a song now would rouse the neighbors, earning their ire.
They'd march to the Millelith, accusing him of shattering the morning peace.
He chuckled at the thought, turning instead to his preparations.
Mondstadt awaited, a journey spurred by Jean's earnest plea.
He donned travel gear—sturdy boots, a cloak, and a belt for essentials.
Supplies packed neatly into his system space, a void that held all he needed.
Food, water, a tent, and spare clothes vanished into the ethereal storage.
He checked his inventory, ensuring nothing vital was left behind.
A map of Teyvat, a compass, and a small pouch of Mora joined the rest.
The pier called, its wooden planks kissed by the harbor's gentle waves.
Xander stepped out, the morning air crisp with the scent of salt and fish.
Seagulls wheeled overhead, their cries a chorus to the waking city.
Vendors stirred, setting up stalls with fresh catches and steaming buns.
He reached the pier's edge, the sunrise now a blazing disc above the sea.
The journey to Mondstadt loomed long, a trek of several days on foot.
Even with his enhanced speed, the distance stretched across rugged terrain.
He'd cross Liyue's mountains, skirt the edges of the Chasm's eerie depths.
The path wound through Stone Gate, a narrow pass between nations.
Beyond lay Mondstadt's rolling hills, dappled with dandelions and windwheels.
Two days, perhaps three, if the weather held and no beasts barred his way.
A lottery draw could change that, a chance to claim a swift ride.
He imagined grand machines—towering mechs or starfaring ships from tales.
A colossal robot, its metal gleaming, could stride across Teyvat in hours.
Or a vessel of the stars, cutting through the sky with celestial grace.
Even a simpler steed—a swift horse or an Anemo-infused glider—would do.
He activated the system, its interface shimmering in his mind's eye.
The lottery wheel spun, a kaleidoscope of possibilities whirring past.
His heart raced, anticipation mingling with the dawn's quiet hope.
The wheel slowed, its pointer ticking toward a glowing prize.
Xander held his breath, the pier's waves a rhythmic backdrop to his wait.
The Shadowfang Blade pulsed, a silent cheer for the journey ahead.
Liyue Harbor buzzed softly, unaware of the adventure about to unfold.
***
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