Saphir's calm voice echoed throughout the great hall. Decarabian's body burst with torrents of turquoise blood, his aura collapsing rapidly until even his figure began to flicker and fade.
Saphir's own face had gone pale. Using Sanctified Aegis earlier had pushed her to the limits of her strength. If that hadn't been enough to end the fight, her only remaining option would've been to risk serious injury by overloading herself with Divine Revelation and following up with Nether Purgatory: Soul Reap.
But fortunately, it hadn't come to that.
Though Decarabian hadn't fully vanished, he no longer showed any intent to fight. The Shadow of Amos beside him had also stopped firing. Everything fell into silence.
After a long while, Decarabian finally spoke again:
"You are…?"
"Looks like you've regained your senses." Saphir raised a brow, pretending to be casual. "Do you still remember who you are?"
Decarabian coughed lightly.
"A dead man… titles no longer matter. What I want to know is—how does the future remember me?"
Saphir walked over to him and sat down. "Decarabian. The Lonely King of the Tower. A tyrant."
"A tyrant…" Decarabian gave a bitter, self-deprecating chuckle.
"So, that's how my efforts were seen. Then tell me, traveler from the future… after all these long years, has Mondstadt finally found its freedom? Did its god give them the liberty they yearned for?"
Saphir's mind conjured the image of a certain green-haired bard hugging a wine bottle. Her expression turned complicated.
"…Sort of, I guess. It's a bit… nuanced. But Mondstadt does still deserve to be called the City of Freedom."
She turned to glance at the still Shadow of Amos, then began recounting the history that had unfolded since Decarabian's fall.
He listened quietly.
When she spoke of Barbatos blowing away the eternal snow, he nodded in approval.
When she described the tyranny of the Lawrence Clan, he clenched his fists.
When she told of the twin disasters of Dvalin and Durin, he sighed.
And when she mentioned that the people of Mondstadt had forgotten the dragon that once protected them, he finally let out a long breath.
Saphir couldn't see his face, but she could feel the sorrow in his voice.
"Do you feel disappointed in the people of Mondstadt?" she asked softly.
Decarabian was silent for a moment, then shook his head.
"I should have died a thousand years ago. Some unknown force trapped me here, but in that time, I never stopped thinking. Long ago, I came to understand—humans are short-sighted and foolish. But this isn't entirely their fault.
Their thoughts are limited by the flesh. The time they perceive is not the same as ours. To me, a hundred years is a fleeting moment. But for them, it's generations of oppression. I can remember something for a millennium—but I can't expect them to pass it down, word for word, across that same span."
Slowly, Decarabian rose and drifted toward the Shadow of Amos.
"In the end… the only one still willing to stay by my side… is you, Amos." His voice trembled with grief.
"I'm sorry I made you wait so long."
As he spoke, both his body and Amos's began to fade, becoming translucent and dissolving into light.
"Brave traveler… before I disappear, will you tell me your name?"
Saphir watched the two fading spirits and smiled faintly.
"My name is Saphir—Afurola Saphir."
Decarabian nodded slowly.
"Thank you… for granting us peace, Afurola Saphir. I won't be able to witness your journey, but take this as my parting gift. May the winds ever favor your path."
A mighty gust swept over the hall, carrying Decarabian and the Shadow of Amos away in a flurry of teal light. Their bodies broke into countless motes that ascended into the sky, eventually vanishing beyond the clouds.
Outside, the wind walls collapsed. The numb, hollow-eyed citizens faded into light. It was as if the entire domain had wept a gentle rain of glowing teal petals—light made wind.
Floating before Saphir was a shimmering emblem. She reached out and caught it, then used Analyze & Appraise to examine its properties.
Stormcrest Emblem (Echo of Decarabian's Wraith):
Grants the bearer the blessing of the raging wind. Increases Anemo resistance.
Basic attacks gain a windshock effect (does not override elemental damage).
Note: When flying, the bearer receives the Windborne Grace effect—always travels with a favorable tailwind.
Saphir tucked the emblem away carefully. Stats aside, the fact it was a proof of having defeated Decarabian made it a rare collector's item on its own.
Lying nearby was Amos' Bow, left behind in the spirit's wake. As Saphir reached out and touched it, a woman's voice echoed in her mind—just two simple words:
"Thank you."
Saphir smiled quietly.
"A faithful heart… in the end, your feelings reached him. Rest in peace."
The battle was over. The bow recovered. The leyline seal had been lifted. A violent tremor shook the ruins—this domain was about to collapse.
Saphir focused on the dagger mark she'd left on Venti. With a single thought, she teleported out of the crumbling domain and reappeared beside him.
The drunkard was, as usual, sipping wine while lounging by a crumbling wall.
Saphir snatched his cup and drained it in one go with a long sigh of relief.
Venti blinked in surprise. "Hey hey, that was my cup!"
Saphir shot him a sidelong glance.
"I didn't mind, and you're complaining?"
Venti was left speechless. He pulled out another cup and poured them both fresh drinks.
"Looks like the leyline seal is broken. Judging from your expression, things went pretty well. Who'd you run into in there?"
Saphir took a breath before replying:
"I met Decarabian."
Venti froze mid-sip.
"Him? You actually… beat him?"
Saphir nodded and recounted everything that happened in the domain. Venti listened intently, nodding often.
"I was born as a single gust of wind among the thousand breezes… a spirit who gained sentience by chance. But Decarabian—he was the god of the howling wind, a true archon in his time. He should've won. But he fell in the flames of rebellion."
Saphir gazed into Venti's turquoise eyes. There was sorrow in them—perhaps memories of an old friend.
She knew bits and pieces of his past. But she said nothing. All she could do was sit with him and share a drink.
Sometimes, she wondered: why did Venti, a god, live in obscurity as a bard—eking out a living, drinking the cheapest wine?
Now, she had a guess. It was obsession. Just like Decarabian. Just like Ei and Zhongli.
Gods, too, could be trapped in the past—anchored to a day that never truly ended. A part of them was always left behind, growing ever more distant from who they were. That, Saphir thought, was the essence of erosion.
The two of them drank silently, one cup after another. When they finished the bottle, Venti looked wistful—so Saphir reluctantly pulled out one of her private reserves and topped him off.
Elsewhere in Stormterror's Lair, across the ruins, a golden-haired boy stood in the wind. His cloak whipped in the storm as he looked in their direction.
A nearby Abyss Mage appeared. "Your Highness… shall I drive them out?"
The Prince shook his head.
"They're not here to interfere. Leave them be. Just focus on your task."
The mage hesitated. "But—"
The boy shot him a cold glare.
"Must I say it again?"
"…Understood." The mage retreated without another word.
Once alone, the Prince turned away.
"I suspected ever since Alice blew this place sky-high that she was after something. So it was the domain's entrance, and it's tied to the world level…"
"Troublesome, this Witch's Circle. And Saphir… how much stronger have you become?"
Far away from Mondstadt, in a remote straw hut, Alice felt the moment the world level shifted. She burst out of the cabin shouting:
"Saphir! You did it! The broken law is mending!"
"Yeah yeah, I heard you." Another girl walked out of the adjoining room.
If anyone else had been present, they would've gasped—for this new girl looked exactly like Saphir.
She scanned the air with narrowed eyes.
"Now that the world level's changed, it's going to reject me harder. I can't stay here long."
Alice blinked.
"You're leaving?"
"Mhm. But first, I've got to take care of something in Liyue." She grabbed a conical hat and placed it on her head.
"Tell the rest of those old witches I said hi. I'm heading out."
Alice grinned wickedly at her back.
"Careful now. We might just hold the bill against the other you."
The girl didn't even slow down. She just waved.
"Suit yourselves. Not like you could take me anyway. Best enjoy bullying me now while I'm still weak—won't be long before I'm out of your league."
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