On the rooftop of the West Wind Knights' headquarters, Venti sat watching the Lady depart. Five hundred years ago, Rosalyne lost her beloved to the Abyss's invasion. Consumed by hatred for the dark beasts of the Abyss, she severed all ties to her past, forsaking the world she once cherished. Her only desire was to burn every monster to ash.
Casting aside her former self as a maiden, she became a witch history refused to record, embarking on a path of vengeance. She believed someone had to incinerate all the pain to pave the way for hope. She needed no understanding, no comfort, no pity. And she succeeded. As the Crimson Witch of Flame, she left scorched earth in her wake, countless monsters reduced to cinders in her blazing fury. Her hatred and obsession severed every bond, every trace of who she once was.
Today, the last remnant of the maiden Rosalyne vanished with the wind. What remained was a husk forged from vengeance, no longer truly Rosalyne—more like a relic of the girl she used to be. Venti sighed, a pang of melancholy in his chest. Her dwindling reason had faded entirely, leaving only a twisted, unrelenting grudge. Her future… Venti could already foresee it. The wind would accompany Rosalyne, but it would not shield the Lady.
Looking down, he saw a group of young knights below, animatedly discussing cards. Their youthful energy was a small glimpse of the new era dawning within the Knights. Venti pulled out his phone, snapped a photo of them, and posted it to his social circle with a caption: "The old era has bid its final farewell. It's time our eyes turned to the future."
"What's he on about?" Furina, who followed Venti online, showed the post to Lu Heng.
Lu Heng paused, his expression thoughtful, as if deciphering a cryptic message. "A tragic girl, broken by misfortune, turned into a hateful woman in the end."
Rosalyne deserved sympathy, but her actions could not be forgiven.
"I see," Furina said, understanding why Venti shared such a post. He carried the weight of that generation's losses, with Rosalyne as the last survivor of that catastrophic era five hundred years ago. Now, even she was gone, leaving only memories and the cold truth of history. People rarely lingered in the past, and Venti least of all.
Lu Heng glanced at the time. "It's getting dark."
"Yeah, let's head back," Furina replied as night began to fall.
This night would not be calm.
Ying swung her makeshift fishing rod. As twilight deepened, the ageless girl felt hunger gnawing at her. After a while, she tugged the rod, her face lighting up with excitement as she pulled it back with force.
Splash!
Something vaguely white and sizable broke the surface. Dragging it to shore, Ying realized it wasn't a fish at all—it was humanoid. A small, white-haired creature, no bigger than a toddler, with a swollen belly and a pale face, spitting out bubbles and seawater. This was definitely not a fish from this world.
Ying paused, thinking calmly despite her hunger. After a moment, she decided to save the child first. Half an hour of effort confirmed the little one had no water left in her lungs, but she remained unconscious, likely from the cold. If hypothermia set in, she wouldn't survive.
After some thought, Ying lit a campfire. The flames crackled, pushing back the night's chill. She had a few fruits on her, enough to get by, but in this harsh wilderness, she needed to conserve what she could. The fire's warmth enveloped them, and the small figure's leg twitched slightly.
In this desolate place, Ying sighed inwardly. She could barely fend for herself, and now there was this little one to care for. Having saved her, she couldn't just abandon her now.
Under Ying's worried gaze, the white-haired child slowly opened her eyes.
"You're awake! Can you understand me?" Ying waved a hand in front of her.
"Y-Yes… I'm so hungry… so cold… so scared…" The child shivered, her voice trembling.
Reluctantly, Ying handed her a fruit, wincing at the sacrifice. "Thank you!" the child said, nibbling on it while warming herself by the fire. They exchanged names. The white-haired child was Paimon.
Paimon couldn't recall how long she'd been in the water, only what happened before. She'd been hungry, searching for food, floating lightly as if a breeze could carry her away. Exhausted, she was suddenly hit by a terrifying shockwave from the distant sea. She didn't know what caused it—she couldn't even hear it before the blast sent her tumbling into the water.
By some stroke of luck, she wasn't eaten by sea creatures. She drifted until Ying's fishing rod hooked her.
"Ying, thank you! If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead!" Paimon said, her voice filled with gratitude and lingering fear.
"No problem. But we need to figure out food," Ying said, her tone heavy with worry. "Without a steady supply, we might starve out here."
"Starve?!" Paimon's eyes widened in terror. "I don't want to starve!"
"I'll try fishing again," Ying said, hoping for better luck.
Fortune smiled on her this time. She soon pulled up a decent-sized fish, though her makeshift rod snapped in the process. At least they'd survive the night.
After a grueling evening, dawn finally broke. Ying shared what little she remembered of her past with Paimon, who eagerly offered to be her guide. The two decided to set off on a journey together, but first, they needed to ensure they wouldn't go hungry.
The struggling duo ventured forward, exploring the unknown, determined to survive.
That morning, Lu Heng had an epiphany. People's natures differed, and the gap between humans and gods was even wider. The world was shaped by seven elements, each tied to an Archon. The Anemo Archon excelled with wind, the Geo Archon with stone. So, naturally, Furina's water element flowed with divine abundance.
"What's wrong? Not a fan anymore?" Furina, up early, draped her arms around Lu Heng's neck. Her divine form was far sturdier than Furina's fragile mortal one. Though they shared the same face and similar builds, Lu Heng could feel the difference. Like identical twins with distinct souls, the experience was worlds apart.
"I'm a huge fan!" Lu Heng said earnestly, incinerating three discarded bedsheets on the floor with a flick of his hand.
"You'll have to prove that's not just talk," Furina teased, slipping under the covers.
Lu Heng swore every word was true. Glancing at his phone, he noted the time. Breakfast would have to wait.
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T/N:
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