The morning sun in Orario had never felt this warm, at least not in the weeks since the news of the fall of the two strongest Familias shook the city's foundations. Yet, for a certain god in the guise of a young bard strolling down North Main Street, today was a bright day—both literally and metaphorically.
Venti, the Anemo Archon who now served as the head of the Barbatos Familia, was on a crucial mission.
In his left hand, he lugged a large shopping bag filled with nails, several planks of mid-grade oak, and thick linen cloth. These were the supplies needed to patch the leaking roof of their old church. After all, he couldn't let his two new members—especially the pregnant Meteria—sleep under dripping rainwater.
However, in his right hand—and this was the most important part—were firmly grasped two bottles of medium-quality Soma Wine he had snagged at a discount.
"Ah, Valis... what a beautiful currency," Venti murmured cheerfully, twirling a coin between his fingers before flicking it into the air and catching it again. "Who would have thought Alfia kept that much savings tucked under her old mattress? She really is a 'monster' when it comes to saving money."
The money was the remnant of Alfia's earnings from her glory days in the Hera Familia. She had handed it to Venti this morning with a cold threat: "Use this for household necessities and nutritious food for Meteria. If I smell alcohol more strongly than baby porridge, I will blow up that church with you inside it."
Naturally, Venti was a wise god. He spent the budget on household needs (70%) and alcohol (30%). That was a very fair ratio by Mondstadt standards.
Venti walked past crowds of gloomy-looking adventurers. The atmosphere in Orario was still tense. The faces he passed were filled with anxiety about a future without the protection of Zeus and Hera. Yet, Venti moved with a different rhythm, as if he were walking on piano keys rather than dirty cobblestones.
His steps faltered when a massive shadow suddenly blocked the pedestrian path ahead of him.
It wasn't the shadow of a cloud, nor the shadow of a building. It was the shadow of a person—or rather, a God—standing in a completely preposterous pose in the middle of the main road.
The figure wore a striking red elephant mask, a lavish cape fluttering in the wind (which seemed to come from nowhere), and stood with legs spread wide, blocking the traffic of merchant carts.
"I AM GANESHA!"
The shout thundered, causing several pedestrians to jump in shock.
Venti blinked, lowering his wine bottle slightly. He tilted his head, staring at the eccentric figure with genuine curiosity. In his past life as an Archon, he had seen many strange gods—from an old man hurling meteors willy-nilly to a lightning goddess who shut herself in her room for centuries. But a god in an elephant mask screaming in the middle of a market? This was new.
It was Ganesha. The God of the Masses. The leader of the Ganesha Familia, which doubled as Orario's unofficial police force.
Ganesha was on a routine patrol to maintain public morale. However, behind that ridiculous elephant mask, a pair of sharp eyes was scanning the crowd. Ganesha was looking for anomalies. In chaotic times like these, Evilus—a group of malevolent gods and their followers—often infiltrated to stir up trouble.
And those sharp eyes were now locked onto Venti.
A small child? No, a god, Ganesha thought. His divine instinct immediately recognized the aura of a fellow Deity.
But something was odd.
Ganesha leaped down from his perch atop a wooden crate, landing with a heavy, dramatic thud exactly two meters in front of Venti. The citizens scattered, clearing a circle of space for the two divine entities.
"You there! Halt, Oh Foreign God!" Ganesha bellowed, pointing at Venti with a theatrical pose. "I, Ganesha, have never seen your face in Heaven nor in the Lower World! Identify yourself!"
Venti grinned broadly, completely unintimidated by Ganesha's frame, which was twice his size.
"Ehe! Hello, Mr. Elephant!" Venti greeted cheerfully. He performed an elegant bow, like a performer greeting his audience. "I'm just a passing bard, seeking fresh wind and sweet wine. My name is Venti."
"Venti?" Ganesha tilted his head. His elephant mask tilted with it, creating a comical sight. "What kind of God's name is that? I know all the Gods. I have memorized their names from A to Z, even the lazy gods who never leave their palaces. But I do not know you."
Suspicion crept into Ganesha's tone. In these sensitive times, an unknown god could spell trouble. was he an ally of Evilus? Or a rogue god who descended secretly without the Guild's permission?
Ganesha straightened his posture. The atmosphere around them shifted drastically. The air grew heavy.
Without warning, Ganesha released his Arcanum.
Not in the form of destructive power—that was strictly forbidden in the lower world—but in the form of Divine Aura. It was pure intimidation radiating the authority of a Major God. For ordinary humans or low-level adventurers, this pressure could make knees tremble and breath shorten, as if gravity had suddenly doubled.
The citizens around them backed away in fear, their faces pale.
Ganesha stared sharply, waiting for the young god's reaction. He wanted to see fear, or at least hesitation.
However, what happened next left Ganesha stunned behind his mask.
Venti didn't flinch.
There was no cold sweat. No shaking knees. In fact, Venti's green cape and braided hair merely fluttered gently, as if just greeted by a soft spring breeze.
Instead, Venti closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and smiled even wider.
"Wow... the wind around you is quite strong, Mr. Elephant. It feels refreshing on this hot day," Venti commented casually. He even uncorked his wine bottle and took a small sip. "Hmm, it makes the wine taste even better."
What?! Ganesha's mind screamed. My divine pressure... he thinks it's a gentle breeze?!
Ganesha knew he wasn't the strongest god in terms of aura like Zeus or Odin, but he was still a Major God. For an unknown "minor" god to shrug off his aura as if it were nothing... that suggested two possibilities.
Either this god was so stupid he was insensitive, or his soul and divinity carried equal weight—or perhaps were even stronger—than Ganesha's.
Ganesha retracted his aura. He cleared his throat loudly to cover his awkwardness.
"Ahem! I-I am Ganesha! And Ganesha... is impressed!" he exclaimed, returning to his flamboyant persona, though his tone was more respectful this time. "You possess extraordinary composure, Venti. Or perhaps you are simply too drunk to feel fear."
"Maybe both?" Venti winked. "So, is this interrogation over? My wine is getting warm, and that is a grave sin for a bard."
Ganesha observed Venti once more. His appearance was fragile, like an immature boy carrying a musical instrument and a bottle of wine. He didn't look like a threat. He didn't look like the type of god thirsty for blood or power.
If anything, he looked like... the wind itself. Free and hard to grasp.
"Not yet finished!" Ganesha reached into the deep pocket of his cape.
He pulled out a thick cream-colored envelope sealed with the Guild's wax emblem. With a dramatic motion, he thrust the envelope in front of Venti's face.
"Because you are here, and because Ganesha is a diligent god, I will hand this to you now!"
Venti took the envelope with the hand holding the bag of nails. "A birthday invitation? A costume party?"
"More important! It is an invitation to the Denatus!"
Venti's eyes widened slightly. Denatus. The meeting of the gods. The place where adventurers' aliases were decided, and where gods exchanged gossip or insulted one another.
"Tomorrow is the regular meeting of the Gods. Usually, a new god must report to the Guild first, but..." Ganesha stared at Venti intently, his instincts telling him that letting this mysterious god roam unsupervised was a bad idea. Better to drag him before the other gods so they could all assess him. "...since I, Ganesha, have met you, consider this an official summons! Come to the peak of Babel tomorrow morning!"
Venti weighed the invitation in his hand. To Babel? To the lair of the gods in this world?
In his previous life, Venti might have avoided boring formal meetings. But here? This was a golden opportunity. He needed information. He needed to map out who was a friend and who was a foe to protect his small "family." And most importantly, he heard the food at the Denatus was free and fancy.
"Alright, alright," Venti slipped the invitation carelessly into his trouser pocket. "I'll be there. But don't expect me to wear a formal suit, okay?"
"Ganesha does not care about clothes! Presence is what matters!" Ganesha turned around, spreading his arms again toward the confused crowd. "Citizens of Orario! Fear not! Ganesha is here! And this little drunk friend..." he pointed at Venti, "...is proof that even in hard times, we can still enjoy life! Carry on with your day!"
With booming laughter, Ganesha leaped away, continuing his patrol with the same boisterous style, leaving Venti shaking his head.
"Interesting fellow," Venti chuckled.
He resumed his walk toward the outskirts of the city, toward the ruins of the old church that was now his home.
The wind blew softly, tossing a few strands of his teal-gradient hair.
Tomorrow, he would stand before the pantheon of Orario's gods. Loki, Freya, Hephaestus... the big names who now held the reins of the city. They would surely look down on him. They would see this small body and cheap bottle of wine and think he was just a small-fry god.
Venti's smile widened, hiding thousands of years of wisdom and cunning behind his innocent face.
"Denatus, huh? I hope they're ready," he whispered to his wine bottle. "Because if there's one thing Barbatos is best at... it's shaking up a stiff atmosphere."
In the distance, the city bell tolled, signaling the late afternoon, and that a new chapter in the history of Orario was about to begin at the round table of the gods.