"Gunnhildr… Ragvindr…"
"Why did you betray me! Why did you ignite the flames of rebellion?"
"For your sake, I raised high walls to ward off frost and war!"
"Venti! Barbatos! You deserve death!"
"My people! My people! You betrayed me! You loathed me! You cast me away!"
Dvalin's roars were no longer coherent, as if he had completely lost his mind.
Jean and Lumine had already lost their ability to fight, lying motionless on the ground. Paimon, terrified out of her wits, clutched Lumine tightly, afraid Dvalin would strike her again.
Kaeya's gaze grew solemn as he muttered under his breath:
"I'd say… we might be in serious trouble."
"You think I don't see that?" Diluc snapped coldly, beads of sweat sliding down his temple.
The Dvalin of the past, he could still handle to a degree.
But now…
That aura was too terrifying.
Completely beyond what he could endure.
And worse—if the being before them, whether it was Dvalin or the remnant soul of the Lord of the Tower, escaped the ruins of Stormterror's Lair…
Mondstadt would be doomed.
That thought alone made Diluc's heart sink.
The only shred of good news was that the Lord of the Tower seemed to be just a remnant soul—confused, half-lucid—more like a wrathful possession of Dvalin than a true revival.
Diluc lowered his voice.
"I'll hold him off. You take them and leave. Send word to Lisa immediately."
"Can you hold him?" Kaeya asked, clearly worried.
Diluc didn't answer. He only whispered:
"Our old rule."
Kaeya pressed his lips together, said nothing more.
"Three!"
At the count, Kaeya instantly dragged Jean and Lumine away, snatching up Paimon as well.
Diluc, meanwhile, drew his greatsword and swung with all his might at Dvalin.
Against the old Dvalin, this blow would've been enough to force him to guard carefully.
But now…
Kaeya had barely taken a few steps before he saw a crimson figure flying back at an even faster speed.
It was Diluc.
His body was covered in wounds, rolling limply across the ground, his greatsword shattered.
Kaeya's heart sank.
The situation was worse than he'd imagined. The Dvalin before them was already approaching the might of a god.
Kaeya had some hidden strength of his own—but even if he unleashed it, he doubted it could match the present Dvalin.
And the more frightening thing was that Dvalin and the Lord of the Tower's remnant were still fusing.
If they completed that fusion, not only would Dvalin be beyond salvation—
Even if Barbatos himself returned, Mondstadt might not survive.
For a moment, Kaeya stood frozen, torn between retreat and advance.
Jean struggled to lift her head.
"Kaeya… go back… take Lumine… send word to Lisa!"
"Mondstadt cannot fall…"
Kaeya hesitated, looking at her.
"Captain Jean, you…"
"Go! Mondstadt comes first!"
Jean forced herself upright with the Favonius Sword, though even breathing now felt like fire burning her lungs.
And she had only shielded Lumine from one strike—what of Lumine herself, who had taken the blow head-on?
Now she lay collapsed, utterly motionless, blood trickling endlessly from her lips as Paimon wept and tried to wipe it away.
Diluc, who had been hurled aside, bore a wound so deep his ribs were visible; even moving his fingers was a struggle.
The Dvalin before them was no longer a dragon touched by abyssal poison—
It was a true god.
The remnant soul of the Lord of the Tower, a god who in his prime had crushed Venti beneath his heel.
Even as a shadow of himself, he was not someone they could contend with.
Jean could feel it: Dvalin's hatred from his poisoned blood, fused with the Lord of the Tower's hatred of Mondstadt.
And she herself bore the blood of the Gunnhildr clan. Beside her, Diluc was of the Ragvindr line.
Descendants of two of the three great houses that had overthrown the Lord of the Tower's tyranny.
How could that not enrage him further?
She and Diluc would never escape. The best they could hope was to let Kaeya and Lumine get away—
At least to deliver a warning to Venti.
Kaeya clenched his teeth and turned toward Lumine and Paimon.
But before he could move, a black storm rose across the entire ruin, swallowing the sky like a tower of night.
Kaeya stopped, let out a bitter laugh, and turned back.
"Captain Jean… it seems there's no way out."
That nightmare from Mondstadt's past had returned.
Boulders dragged into the storm were ground to dust.
The only exit left… was the vortex above Dvalin's head.
Jean gasped for breath.
"Protect Lumine!"
Meanwhile, hidden in the shadows, Aether glared at Dvalin, his gaze shifting anxiously to his unconscious sister.
At last he seized a nearby Abyss Mage, snarling:
"You told me there was no remnant of the Lord of the Tower here! Then what is this? Tell me what this is!"
The Abyss Mage swallowed hard.
"Prince… when we scouted this place, we truly found nothing of the sort!"
"Damn you!" Aether hurled him aside, a blade of light coalescing in his hand.
But another Abyss Mage hurried to cling to him.
"Your Highness! You must not! If you strike openly, Celestia will notice!"
"Five hundred years of planning cannot be ruined here!"
Aether struck him across the face.
"Shut up! That's my sister!"
"Your Highness! Please! We've already summoned reinforcements—the Defenders of the Profound Sin are on their way. Your sister will not fall!"
Aether took a deep breath, then sheathed the blade, voice cold.
"If she suffers even a scratch, you will all be buried with her."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
He looked at Lumine coughing blood on the ground, his heart twisting like knives. For the first time, he regretted ever using Dvalin in his schemes.
Not far away, Jean gripped the Favonius Sword tightly, staring at the Dvalin above.
Her mind echoed with her parents' teachings—the oath of the Gunnhildr bloodline.
It was their ancestors who had summoned Barbatos in ancient times, and in return their veins carried the contract of a thousand winds.
Jean didn't know if that power could withstand the present Dvalin.
But… she had no other choice.
She rolled up her sleeve, revealing pale skin where intricate runes began to surface.
"O thousand winds that flow unceasing through the ages, no corner of this land is without your song…"
As her incantation rose, a pure current of wind gathered around her.
But at once, the Lord of the Tower's remnant noticed.
"Gunnhildr!!!"
Dvalin roared and dove, cutting off her chant.
Jean's pupils shrank. She tried to raise her blade—
But before she could, the Favonius Sword flew from her hand on its own, wreathed in a mysterious power, shooting straight at Dvalin.
The sword flared with a force far beyond her imagination, blasting Dvalin away before circling back to hover at her side, guarding her.
"The Favonius Sword?"
Jean froze. But before she could think further, a sword-qi vast enough to split heaven itself tore through the storm above the ruins.
"Jean! I'm here!"
Lisa's voice rang out. Everyone looked up.
Under the moonlight, as the storm parted, Lisa stood proudly atop an ornate flying sword, suspended in the void.
Her aura surged—and with just a stir, the clouds scattered.
Jean's heart loosened. She collapsed to the ground in relief.
"Lisa…"
"Lisa?"
Diluc painfully turned his head skyward. That figure riding her sword through the air seemed so lofty, so untouchable.
"Cultivation…"
For the first time, a spark of hope lit in his eyes.
Lisa, usually so carefree, looked at Jean's battered state and grew furious.
"A mere remnant soul… you should have stayed in oblivion!"
"How dare you stir again!"
"Lisa, disciple of Mount Shu, comes to slay demons!"
Lumine forced her eyes open, blood at her lips. Trembling, she raised her hand.
"Lisa… big sister… save me!"
Seeing Lumine's condition, Lisa's anger burned hotter.
The Lord of the Tower, realizing the threat, drove Dvalin straight at her.
A storm of black projectiles shot forth—
But not even her protective true essence rippled.
"Petty tricks!" Lisa snorted, fingers forming a sword seal.
"Lend me your blades!"
At her call, Jean and the others watched in shock as their weapons dissolved into streaks of light, soaring skyward.
All around the ruins, fallen swords answered too.
Behind Lisa, a rain of blades gathered—hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands—until they blotted out the moon, the cold gleam of steel stabbing into marrow.
"Mount Shu's Imperial Sword Art… Lisa-sis… so cool!"
Even half-conscious, Lumine forced herself upright, cheering hoarsely.
Diluc, dazed, gazed at the sea of blades under Lisa's command. His thirst for power flared uncontrollably.
"Demonbane!"
Lisa pointed. The ocean of swords surged down like a tidal wave upon Dvalin.
Had Childe seen this move, he might have died of fright on the spot.
Dvalin had nowhere to run. He condensed a barrier of black stormwinds to block, but still countless swords pierced through, stabbing into his body.
The dragon that had seemed invincible moments ago now staggered.
Howling, he forcibly drew upon the leylines of the ruin.
Lisa frowned. A pity.
If her Imperial Sword Art had reached true mastery, she could unleash the full Mount Shu's Sword-Slaying Art, which would have cleaved apart even this remnant in moments.
But as it was, commanding ten thousand blades already stretched her limits.
Seeing Jean and the others gravely wounded, Lisa decided not to waste more time.
After all, this was only a remnant soul.
Others might be helpless against it, but…
The Lord of the Tower had met her.
And her Soul Burning Hellfire.
Lisa pressed her palms together.
The myriad swords dissolved into streams of light, spiraling into a river of blades that encircled Dvalin, trapping him in its center.
Then she brought her hands together, chanting softly:
"Foolish spirit… since you will not rest, you shall become fuel for my flames!"
"Hellfire—Imprison the Soul!"
A tiny purple-black flame bloomed in her palms.
As she slowly opened her hands, the winds of the ruins fell silent.
The flame swelled with the gale, erupting into a sea of fire that blotted out the sky.
In the shadows, Aether's pupils shrank. He seized an Abyss Mage.
"Go!"
Without a glance back, he vanished into an Abyssal gate.
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