Teyvat Continent.
Narukami Island—Inazuma City.
On this land ruled by one of the Seven Archons, a grand city stands proudly across the vast island. The cool-toned streets are softened by the interwoven cherry blossoms; it must be the start of spring, for the sakura drifting in the air still carry a trace of moisture.
Viewed from high above, the city's neat layout spreads out like an artwork crafted by a master. From the lively commercial slope of Hanamizaka, to the town streets, then onward to the Tenryou Commission—the organization responsible for public order and the Shogunate's military affairs.
And at the end of it all, overlooking everything from on high, stands the majestic Tenshukaku.
That sacred place is where the most exalted being of this land resides—the Narukami Ogosho, the true Electro Archon.
Yet today, within the lofty tower that should be solemn and silent, echoes arise that are neither solemn nor befitting of divine authority: soft, teasing laughter.
Inside the tower…
Redwood floors extend beneath neatly arranged bamboo mats. Black wooden doors carved with intricate patterns stand at both sides, shielding the room from the breeze. Golden luminescent markings decorate them, and at the center, the tri-fold crest of Electro glows with an imposing brilliance.
At the central desk—broad and crafted of fragrant agarwood—sat a man and a woman facing one another.
"Judging by the time… the Divine Blade Festival should be ending soon."
The man wore elegant robes of deep blue and black, his devilishly handsome features half-lit by the sunlight. He glanced toward the distant, cloud-wreathed peak of Mt. Yougou, pouring himself a cup of sake.
"Didn't expect you to hand your own duties over to your younger sister. Looks like you've gotten sly, Baal."
He said this while looking at the woman before him—the one who embodied thunderous majesty among the Seven, the first Electro Archon: Raiden Makoto.
Her long hair, deep violet like silk dyed in dusk, was adorned with fan-shaped wisteria ornaments. Two locks fell over her shoulders, while the rest was gathered into an intricate braid. Despite its beauty, it carried a faint, metallic coldness and a lonely shine.
Her attire was a simple, form-fitting light-purple kimono. The graceful lines of her slender neck and collarbone were hidden beneath the fabric; a crimson sash cinched her waist. The front hem of her kimono was short, and though her pale legs were exposed, the wide sleeves embroidered with lightning motifs draped down, casting faint shadows over them.
Luo Li—ever the shameless observer—couldn't help feeling it was a pity.
If only Makoto dressed like her sister Beelzebul—tight, form-embracing, dangerously alluring—she'd be irresistible.
Unlike her sister, whose taciturn temperament often made her seem aloof, Raiden Makoto was lively and gentle, easier to approach, though still possessing the nobility and pressure befitting an Archon.
"Ah, Liyue has an old saying: 'One grows red near cinnabar, and black near ink.' I suppose being around certain people for so long has influenced me."
Makoto gave him a look that all but spelled out: You are the bad influence.
She hid her smile behind her sleeve—but the teasing glint in her eyes betrayed everything.
Luo Li rolled his eyes. "So this is somehow my fault?"
"I never mentioned any names," she replied with feigned innocence.
After her playful retort, she too directed her gaze toward Mt. Yougou, and with a soft sigh, murmured:
"No helping it. Time grows short. Eventually, these duties must pass on to Ei… otherwise, when the moment comes…"
Her words dispersed with the breeze.
Luo Li pretended he hadn't heard anything. Instead, he looked over the vast land of Inazuma and couldn't help sighing.
"To think how fast time passes… In a blink, centuries go by. Inazuma has grown from barren wilderness into a flourishing paradise."
As he spoke, he drifted into memory.
Like many transmigrators, Luo Li had been a fan of Genshin Impact.
Unlike them, however, he'd been thrown into Teyvat not during peaceful times—but three thousand years in the past, into ancient Mondstadt, where the Storm God and the King of the North Wind still fought for the title of Anemo Archon.
Back then, the world was rampant with warring gods and endless calamities. Ordinary humans struggled to survive even a day.
Fortunately, Luo Li awakened the Immortal Sign-In System:
As long as he lived long enough, each year he could sign in and receive various talents, abilities, or items.
After scraping through those harrowing early years, he finally gained enough power to explore this mysterious, breathtaking world.
Over the next two and a half millennia, he fought alongside a wisp among the thousand winds to overthrow the tyrant ruling the tower. He cleared the wastes with the Geo Archon.
He witnessed the Nail of Cold Sky fall upon the ancient snowbound kingdom.
He saw the fall of the once-glorious Lawrence Clan.
Finally, centuries ago, Luo Li crossed the sea to Inazuma. Swayed by its drifting sakura, he planned to begin anew…
And then he met the Raiden twins.
He stayed. Without hesitation.
Integrated himself into the Shogunate.
All with the noble intention of preventing future tragedies.
Not because he was attracted to them. Of course not.
"…Fine, I was attracted to them. I admit it. Honesty is a virtue."
Luo Li glanced at Raiden Makoto, counting mentally:
How long until the destruction of Khaenri'ah? How long until this gentle woman became the Sacred Sakura, sacrificing herself for Ei and for Inazuma?
How long until friends like Kitsune Saiguu and Chiyo—people he had grown familiar with—perished in the cataclysm's aftermath?
Inazuma's future was tragedy upon tragedy.
"What are you thinking?"
Makoto's voice gently pulled him back. She was watching him with mild curiosity.
"Thinking about why the Divine Blade Festival is taking so long. It's never dragged on like this before."
He tossed out a casual excuse, leaning lazily against the soft cushions—utterly unrestrained before a god.
Makoto smiled. "It's Ei's first time presiding over a festival. She's young, inexperienced. Even with Saiguu assisting her, she still needs time to grow."
The Divine Blade Festival, established when Narukami passed down the art of forging blades—after centuries, humans finally crafted swords worthy of her recognition.
Thus, the Shogunate and Narukami Shrine created this sacred tradition: each year, the finest blade of the land was offered at Mt. Yougou.
Naturally, it was a grand event.
Not only Inazuma City—White Fox Field and even the mountain paths teemed with people.
"You're probably right."
Luo Li nodded. He was about to continue speaking when Makoto's wide sleeve suddenly shifted.
Both of them glanced down at the same time.
A moment later, a fluffy pink-and-white head poked out from beneath her sleeve. With sleepy, innocent eyes, the small creature peered around uncertainly.
"Ying~?"
Its tiny paws pressed on the fabric, and its golden, slit-pupiled eyes still carried the haze of just waking up.
Then it looked up—directly into a teasing, predatory gaze.
"Oh? Awake at last, little one?"
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