The Adeptus were discussing the Rite of Descension scheduled for the following day.
Meanwhile, Futsu Mitama and his group were enjoying themselves in Liyue Harbor. As the Rite of Descension drew closer, the harbor had grown increasingly lively, filled with countless new and interesting sights and amusements.
Today was not a day for cultivation, but a day for indulgence.
Futsu Mitama, Hu Tao, and Klee—two fiery little girls whose enthusiasm burned as brightly as their red attire—wandered through the streets together with Aila, Kuki Shinobu, Shenhe, and the others. They sampled delicacies they had never tasted before, moving from stall to stall amid laughter and chatter.
For Futsu Mitama, Aila, Kuki Shinobu, and Shenhe alike, this atmosphere carried a long-lost sense of liveliness.
It was a kind of warmth and bustle that could never be felt in Inazuma, nor among the quiet mountains.
Shenhe could not help but sigh softly. Futsu Mitama and Aila felt the same.
Shenhe had never had companions. Every festival, she would remain in the mountains, accompanying her master as they gazed toward distant Liyue Harbor. She would eat Qingxin flowers, Glaze Lilies, and a few simple foods, and the festival would pass just like that.
As for Futsu Mitama and Aila, they had simply never experienced such a festive festival before. In Inazuma, seeing an event of this scale and vitality in Inazuma's current state was exceedingly rare.
Difficult. Very difficult. Almost impossible.
Since Futsu Mitama's transmigration, the Yashiro Commission had been perpetually weakened, while the Tenryou Commission and the Kanjou Commission held absolute control over Inazuma. Any attempt at liveliness required the Yashiro Commission to host events—but those two commissions had no desire to see it regain influence.
Thus, Inazuma remained desolate.
Even when activities were held, they were small, self-contained affairs, little more than self-entertainment. The moment anything showed signs of expanding, the Tenryou Commission or the Kanjou Commission would intervene and interrogate.
Liyue, however, was entirely different.
Here, the Qixing governed the affairs of the nation, the people themselves cultivated the festive atmosphere, and above it all, the Adeptus and Rex Lapis stood watch.
Having lived so long in another world, it was only now that Futsu Mitama truly felt the meaning of a festival. For a brief moment, emotion stirred in his heart.
He looked around at the bustling streets and spoke sincerely, "Liyue really is a wonderful place. Compared to the lifeless Inazuma, this is truly somewhere suitable for retirement."
"Mm." Aila nodded softly. She understood her young master's plans.
He had once told her plainly: earn mora relentlessly in Inazuma, then buy a house in Liyue or Mondstadt, and settle there for the long term.
No matter what, both nations were free lands. As long as one did not cause trouble, no one would interfere. Moreover, the gods of Liyue and Mondstadt themselves were relaxed and unrestrained, and the cultural atmosphere of both nations was warm and open.
Aila, who had lost her past memories, did not truly understand what "cultural atmosphere" meant. Yet as she watched people from many nations smiling so freely and happily on the eve of the Rite of Descension, a faint sense of disorientation passed through her eyes.
A fleeting fragment surfaced in her vision.
A black-haired girl. A white-haired girl.
They were holding her hands in a similar place, accompanying her—but their faces were indistinct, blurred beyond recognition.
She felt faint confusion. Why were there two girls, and not one boy and one girl? Had her mother brought a close friend along to accompany her?
The moment passed in an instant.
After making contact with her "other self" the two sides subtly influenced one another. This was merely a prelude. With time and gradual release, Aila would inevitably recover memories of her past—memories that had always belonged to her.
"Mm. Then we need to work harder," Kuki Shinobu said quietly, nodding in agreement.
The lifeless Inazuma was not something she wished to accept.
As an Inazuman, she still hoped her homeland could improve. It was precisely for this reason that, after learning of Raiden Makoto's existence and hearing of Inazuma's former glory from Raiden Makoto and Yae Miko, she had made a silent vow to change Inazuma for the better.
Therefore—the Resistance was necessary.
Their time in Liyue was not only for enjoyment, but also to strengthen themselves as much as possible. Once they returned to Inazuma, they would assist the Resistance, overthrow the Tenryou Commission—that malignant tumor festering within the nation—and deal with the Fatui who acted without restraint.
She would not allow any of them to escape unpunished.
Shenhe did not fully understand what they were discussing, yet she deeply enjoyed the simple act of shopping with companions by her side.
Ahead of them, Hu Tao and Klee darted through the streets, their laughter echoing as both were clearly having the time of their lives.
And while Futsu Mitama and the others immersed themselves in the festival atmosphere—
On the opposite side of the harbor, within the Northland Bank, tension quietly rose.
Tartaglia had brought back intelligence originating from Futsu Mitama.
It was now nearly certain that Ill Dottore had been active in Liyue, and that his movements were connected to the Abyss Order.
At this very moment, his subordinates were already being watched closely by the Millelith and the Liyue Qixing.
All Fatui operatives active within Liyue had returned to the Northland Bank.
Under the present circumstances, nearly every Fatui agent stationed in the region had been recalled, gathering there in quiet tension, awaiting Tartaglia's next directive.
Although Il Dottore held the title of Second of the Fatui Harbingers, outward authority over the Liyue operation still rested with Tartaglia. Unless Her Majesty the Tsaritsa herself issued new instructions, Il Dottore could not openly usurp command—even if he had already arrived in Liyue.
At most, his presence diluted Tartaglia's control, as some of the Fatui stationed here answered to Il Dottore alone.
"How are things?"
Tartaglia's voice cut through the hall. He stood casually, hands at his sides, eyes sweeping over the gathered Fatui.
On the surface, their duties in Liyue were mundane: debt collection, suppressing Treasure Hoarder conflicts, and clearing monsters—Geovishap Hatchlings, Hilichurls, Whopperflowers.
But Tartaglia knew better.
It was what happened beneath the surface that mattered—and that was precisely what worried him.
"Not well." A Fatui agent stepped forward, expression grim. "Our unit was assigned to survey ruins already claimed by the Liyue authorities. We gained almost nothing. Worse, the Millelith tailed us the entire time."
"They weren't subtle. It felt like a warning."
Another Debt Collector spoke next, voice low and cold. "Same situation this morning. During debt collection, we detected someone shadowing us. Their strength wasn't trivial. A direct clash would've been risky. We withdrew."
It was the correct decision. In Liyue, retreat was preferable to escalation.
Debts could wait. Interest would accumulate regardless.
"The Northland Bank itself is under pressure as well," a Fatui woman reported, frowning. "Local money houses have begun targeting us. It's still early—but they're testing the waters."
The reports continued.
Every one of them unfavorable.
Restrictions tightened. Movements watched. Intelligence blocked.
For now, it was bearable.
But if this continued, Liyue would make an example of them.
And Liyue was no weak state hiding behind its god.
Its strength rivaled Snezhnaya's—and unlike Mondstadt, it possessed discipline, order, and depth.
If the Qixing chose to obstruct them in earnest, the Fatui would bleed.
All gazes turned toward Tartaglia.
"What now?
"Any orders from Her Majesty?"
Tartaglia turned to the Electro Cicin Mage—the liaison to Snezhnaya.
Days ago, upon learning of Il Dottore's arrival, he had already sent reports back. Whatever was happening in Liyue was no secret.
"This…" The Electro Cicin Mage hesitated.
"What is it?" Tartaglia's tone cooled.
"Her Majesty has issued no new instructions," she said, voice trembling. "However—Lord Il Dottore stated that his actions need not concern us."
"The plan hasn't begun. Any losses are inconsequential—mere expendable scraps."
"He also stated that—the other Harbingers are in agreement."
She fell silent.
Two Harbingers had spoken.
The rest had chosen indifference.
The message was clear.
Liyue issue did not matter.
Tartaglia frowned—not in anger, but understanding. Il Dottore had not come to Liyue merely to experiment. He was here to obtain something.
Something worth sacrificing the Northland Bank.
Something worth disregarding Tartaglia entirely.
After a brief silence, Tartaglia exhaled slowly.
"Forget it. Stop investigating Il Dottore. And stop courting Liyue's favor."
He had made his choice. If Il Dottore dared to act openly in Liyue, it meant he had already calculated the consequences. Interfering would only complicate matters.
Let Il Dottore and Liyue collide.
The Northland Bank was not his to protect.
Debts could wait.
At this point, Tartaglia had withdrawn from the game.
Perhaps he could learn something from Zhongli.
Tea. Music. Leisure.
Survival through detachment.
"Dismissed," he said calmly. "Remain in Liyue Harbor. Enjoy the Rite of Descension."
And with that, he left.
The Fatui dispersed, unease lingering in their steps. Among them, one soldier quietly slipped away.
After layers of counter-surveillance, he reached the Guili Plains.
The ruins lay silent.
Ruin Guards strewn across the ground. Monsters collapsed where they stood.
No signs of battle.
Such was the power of the Harbingers.
Deep within the ruins, he found Il Dottore.
Masked. Still. Studying a golden seal etched with ancient script.
Impatience flickered as Il Dottore sensed the intrusion.
"What is it?"
The soldier swallowed and reported everything—Tartaglia's decision, Snezhnaya's silence, and the movements within Liyue Harbor.
"Oh?" Il Dottore's eyes gleamed faintly. "That is…acceptable."
Aila had left Mt. Aocang.
Good. Not yet—but soon.
"And Tartaglia chose inaction?" Il Dottore scoffed softly. "Predictable."
He returned his attention to the seal.
"Il Dottore," the soldier asked cautiously, "what lies beyond it?"
Il Dottore smiled—thin, amused.
"A god's knowledge. Once sealed away in stone."
"My purpose here is twofold. One is the maid."
"And the other—" His voice lowered. "Is curiosity."
"This seal resisted even Morax."
"If I succeed—" Black energy coiled around his hand, gnawing at the seal with patient precision. "What, I wonder, will it yield?"
The seal dimmed.
Il Dottore withdrew his hand.
Too fast would invite attention.
Behind the barrier floated a stone lock—Memory of Dust—silent, ancient, waiting.
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