"This is your idea of 'taming' him?"
"Isn't that a little… excessive?"
Istaroth finally couldn't hold it in. She pointed at the crumpled dragon on the ground—Dvalin was barely breathing—and spoke, speechless.
She'd just watched Rowan "tame" Stormterror. It was… direct. Brutal. Even someone with a heart of stone would feel a twinge of pity after seeing Rowan's method.
He was a bandit, through and through.
At Stormterror's Lair, he hadn't said a word before drawing the Victory Contract Sword. One blast of released mana punched a hole through the outer seal. The moment Dvalin burst out, Rowan didn't waste a breath—he hammered the dragon out of the sky and beat him senseless.
Dvalin's screams echoed for leagues. Folks at Dawn Winery could probably hear them. Everyone who heard it couldn't help feeling sorry for the dragon who was getting worked over.
And the beating lasted a full half hour.
Rowan nearly killed him. If Venti hadn't shown up to stop him, Rowan might've kept swinging.
The look Venti shot Rowan said it all—deeply displeased. So he'd had a few drinks and forgot to open the door; was that a reason to pulp Dvalin?
"Was that necessary?"
Rowan, facing Venti's wounded stare, felt no guilt whatsoever. In fact, he sounded perfectly justified.
"Couldn't be helped. He attacked first."
"If he hadn't gone for me, I wouldn't have hit back."
"It was self-defense. Sure, maybe the defense was… enthusiastic. Not my fault."
He wasn't making it up—Dvalin really had struck first. Otherwise, given Rowan's temperament, he'd have smacked Dvalin around a bit and called it a lesson.
Still, putting a proper thrashing on Dvalin had its perks. Once the dragon recovered, Rowan would have himself an aerial mount. Leaving the East Wind Dragon to gather dust at Stormterror's Lair was a waste; far better to serve as Rowan's sky steed—perfect for trips abroad.
If the Wolf King weren't only a remnant soul, Rowan would've wanted him, too. A fine horse couldn't compare to Andrius for style.
Andrius: "A-choo!"
"I can vouch for it," Venti said at last. "He really did strike first. Opened with—what was it—Caelestinum Finale Termini (Finale of the End) right at us. If Rowan hadn't reacted, we'd be hurt."
Venti, in his heart: Do you think I believe that?
No wounds, no sweat, and you're telling me he almost hurt you?
Do I look like a fool?
Of course, he only grumbled inside. Say it out loud, and who knew what Rowan would parry with—no one could out-talk that man. After the last few days at the palace, Venti knew better. Rowan's tongue could sell poison as chicken soup for the soul.
"But you've beaten Dvalin half to death," Istaroth pressed. "How are you going to drive out the Abyssal taint in him? I can't purify it."
In Teyvat, no one could cleanse the power of the Abyss. That was why the Sibling pair were called saviors. Snezhnaya had studied the Abyss for centuries and still hadn't achieved one percent of Khaenri'ah's results. Even they didn't know how to purify it—yet those Twins were born able to do so.
This was why Venti had waited for the Traveler to awaken and begin their journey before showing up—he couldn't handle Dvalin alone. With the Abyss Order sabotaging from the shadows, staying hidden was wiser.
Now Rowan had thrashed Dvalin within an inch of his life. Venti wanted to see how Rowan planned to purge the taint. Otherwise, the dragon's grievous state was a ready-made gift to the Abyss.
"That part's easy," Rowan said.
He reached into his body and drew out an ornate scabbard.
Istaroth leaned in, curious, and brushed a hand along it. "A scabbard—inside your body? Judging by the design, it belongs to your Victory Contract Sword. Don't tell me… you're a sword spirit?"
Rowan shot her a look and laid the scabbard across Dvalin's body. "Another treasure. Its name is 'Distant Utopia'—Avalon."
"It does one thing: it removes all negative effects and keeps its host at their peak—ageless, undying."
Istaroth's eyes widened. "That's… impossible. No wonder you keep it inside you. If word got out, forget ordinary folk—even the Seven Archons would try to take it."
If she guessed right, it could even stave off erosion from the Heavenly Principles. She kept that thought to herself; speak it aloud, and you might just kick off a new Archon War.
Erosion was a negative state imposed by the heavens on every long-lived being in Teyvat. The longer the life, the deeper the erosion: memories and strength fade; worst of all, reason crumbles. Once, the Lord of Geo's former ally Azhdaha had run amok at The Chasm because of erosion. He battled Morax and was sealed beneath Nantianmen, where he remained to this day.
That was the danger of erosion. Why did Barbatos so often sleep? Partly to maintain the Thousand Winds' grand hymn with dwindled power—but more to hide from erosion. Why did Zhongli lay down the title of Geo Archon? He was tired—five thousand years of guardianship would exhaust anyone. More, he feared that if erosion pushed him to the brink, he might descend into madness like Azhdaha. If that happened, who would protect Liyue?
That was Morax's wisdom.
(End of Chapter)
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