In their final moments, these young knights, newly sworn to the Order, began to doubt the faith they had held for so many years. Was their devotion to Barbatos truly worthwhile? Was the Anemo Archon still alive? Was he truly protecting Mondstadt?
The knights, their bodies corroded by the dragon's venom, longed for answers. But one by one, they stopped breathing. One by one, they lost their lives. They fell, never to receive those answers, leaving this world with nothing but regret.
At the front, Rostam still charged ahead. Though he could not hear his knights' final murmurs, watching them fall one after another until he was the only one still riding, his heart was wracked with pain. In that moment, a grim certainty seized him: he too would be corrupted by the dragon's poison and die on the road to the snowy mountains.
"Lord Barbatos, if you can hear my call, please appear now—"
"Protect your people!"
"Lady Rosalyne—I'm sorry—I may not be able to return."
"How I regret this—"
Watching all his knights fall as the dragon drew nearer, despair washed over him. Was this the end?
No—he had to live. He had to see Rosalyne one more time. He could not break his promise to her.
But then, Durin's colossal body blotted out the sun, its shadow engulfing his small form. He had nowhere to run; he could only spur his horse forward, buying whatever time he could. The next moment, venomous blood rained down from the sky once more. There was no escape.
Drops of that "blessing" fell upon Rostam, seeping into his skin and flesh. Even his warhorse, tainted by the dragon's blood, let out a despairing whinny.
"Don't fall—"
"Keep running—"
"Damn it—"
Though his skin blackened and his flesh burned with searing pain, Rostam refused to give up. He tried to hold on, to stall the dragon until Arundolyn or Barbatos arrived.
But no reinforcements came. His horse collapsed beneath him, and his corrupted body crashed to the ground. Even then, he did not surrender. He drew his sword and challenged the dragon.
But his strength was gone. After only two steps, he fell again, staring up at the sky in despair. He saw the great dragon soaring freely, saw the venom falling like rain. Drops splattered on his face, burning like fire.
He tried to rise, to crawl away from the poison. But he fell once more. He could not stand. The venom was eating away at his mind, blurring the line between reality and illusion.
In his delirium, he seemed to see Rosalyne standing before him. He seemed to hear her voice:
"Rostam, you haven't forgotten our promise, have you—"
"Let's get married—"
"Have a whole troop of little knights—"
"How happy we'll be—"
In his daze, hearing those imagined words, a smile of bliss touched his lips.
But then, the vision shattered. The dream broke. A tear rolled from the corner of his eye. It was the first time he had wept since childhood—tears of sorrow and unwillingness.
In his fading consciousness, he suddenly felt as if he were the dragon in the sky. He could see through its eyes and feel its thoughts. The dragon was singing. It was spreading its "blessing." It was playing with the knights.
It truly did not know that its actions had taken so many lives and brought such devastation to the land.
In that moment, Rostam even felt a flicker of forgiveness toward the dragon.
No—he could not forgive. Those knights and villagers were innocent. Why had they been killed?
Just as his breath was about to cease and his eyes were about to close, a thunderous roar shook the heavens and earth. Not the dragon's cry, but another beast's.
With that sound, Rostam, clinging to his last shred of life, forced his eyes open. In the sky, he saw a great green dragon—and a floating bard.
So that street‑singing bard was the great Anemo Archon, Barbatos.
But why had he come only now? Why had he not protected the nation he ruled?
How bitter.
Forgive me, Rosalyne—I broke our promise.
I'm sorry.
Amid the dragon's roars, Rostam, his heart filled with regret and resentment, finally let go. His eyes slowly closed. His breathing stopped. His consciousness faded.
In that final moment, a crystalline tear slipped down his cheek. In its shimmering reflection, one could vaguely see the green dragon and the green bard, now locked in battle with the black dragon.
...
At Wangshu Inn in Liyue, as Li Mo finished telling of Rostam's bitter end, the audience felt as if they themselves were Rostam—filled with the anguish of unfulfilled life and doubt toward the Anemo Archon.
"What was Barbatos doing? Why did he only show up after Rostam died? How irresponsible!"
"He never does any real work!"
"Honestly, I'm furious at the Anemo Archon too—"
"Quiet—he's sitting right over there!"
"Actually, Barbatos wasn't idle. He was fighting monsters in Khaenri'ah, still protecting Mondstadt."
"He rushed back as soon as he learned of the dragon's invasion."
"Unfortunately, he was too late."
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A/N: Some readers have asked about two reincarnations—Durin and Rostam—appearing simultaneously.
First: In this story, reincarnation does not follow chronological order. Instead, the protagonist transmigrates into different historical periods (time‑travel style reincarnation), so timelines may overlap. They may even meet themselves from another life (a common trope in time‑travel fiction).
Second: If reincarnation were strictly chronological, it would impose too many limitations, reducing the number of characters that could be written about—most would overlap in time, making the story extremely difficult to write. I hope readers can understand.
Third: This time‑travel style reincarnation is also a narrative device—it will be used in the final life to strike at the Heavenly Principles. (Heavenly Principles, don't run!)