"Alright then—I'll accept."
"Since you've said as much."
Faced with Venti's openhearted stance, Dvalin was deeply moved.
He and Venti had walked over a thousand years together.
From the founding of Mondstadt, Dvalin had stood at his side,
sharing every hardship with him.
And though Venti often fell into long slumbers, he had always treated Dvalin sincerely.
He never forced him to do anything—everything Dvalin did was by choice.
To protect the Mondstadt his friend left behind; to protect his friend.
Sometimes he'd gripe at Venti, hoping he'd do something "proper" for once,
but it was only teasing.
He knew Venti's state often wouldn't allow him to act.
Still, there were times when Dvalin did the heavy lifting while Venti strummed his lyre on the sidelines, cheering—and that really did get on his nerves.
Thinking back, those days were carefree—truly happy.
"Good. In that case, starting tomorrow, Dvalin, you'll be Mondstadt's Guardian Beast."
"Come back to the city with me tomorrow. I'll announce it publicly—otherwise some people'll still call you 'Stormterror,' and that won't do."
With Dvalin's agreement, Rowan was delighted.
He lifted a crisp-roasted boar haunch from the fire and handed it to Dvalin. The dragon swallowed, reached out a claw, set it on the ground,
and ate slowly, savoring every bite.
Delicious.
"Hey—what's this? You feed Dvalin but not me?"
"I want some too!"
Venti's mouth watered; he scooted up to Rowan and pleaded.
He'd been craving that taste for ages—yet Rowan's first serving went not to him,
but to Dvalin. Where was the justice in that!
"Come on. Aren't you the one who lives on wine?"
"Drink your drink. Leave the meat be."
Rowan skewered another cut and kept roasting, glancing over with a tease.
"Aw— c'mon!"
"You can't be serious!"
And so, with Venti grumbling and squawking, the night passed.
At dawn,
Rowan rode Dvalin back to Mondstadt.
The dragon's arrival plunged the city into chaos.
The Knights of Favonius mobilized en masse, braced for battle—
but then they saw Rowan standing on Dvalin's back, and understanding dawned.
Weapons lowered. Under Frederica's lead, ranks formed, awaiting Rowan's word.
Soon Minister of the Interior Seamus and many sisters of the Church of Favonius gathered at the Anemo Archon Plaza.
Seeing Dvalin restored, some citizens recognized the legend before them—the East Wind Dragon, one of the Four Winds.
Realization spread about the recent "dragon calamity." Heads bowed in shame.
The dragon who had saved Mondstadt time and time again had been mistaken for a monster—how ungrateful.
When the crowd had mostly assembled,
Rowan stood on Dvalin's head and amplified his voice with magic.
"From this day forward, I declare the dragon calamity officially over."
"Many of you already recognize the one beneath my feet."
"Yes—this is the East Wind Dragon, Dvalin, who has saved Mondstadt many times—known in your mouths as 'Stormterror.'"
"Five hundred years ago, to protect Mondstadt, Dvalin battled the dragon Durin. Durin fell on Dragonspine, and Dvalin was poisoned by the monster's blood—tormented by it until now."
"Seeking relief from the poison, he instinctively came to Mondstadt, hoping for help. And what happened?"
At those words, those who hadn't understood now did.
Shame spread—especially among the Knights.
Their panic had turned the East Wind Dragon, who had come for aid, into "Stormterror."
They had erred.
Looking down on the guilty faces of Mondstadters below, Dvalin felt warmth kindle in his chest.
They hadn't truly wished him dead.
It had only been fear—seeing him for the first time.
"I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty."
"I want you to remember those who sacrificed themselves to protect Mondstadt. They died for this city."
"Not to remember only one generation—tell me, how many of you can clearly name what the Four Winds Guardians represent?"
"..."
Silence. Eula, Frederica, and Jean—nobles of the three great houses—opened their mouths,
clearly knowing the answer, down to every detail.
But for most in the crowd—forget the Four Winds;
even the toll of the battle five hundred years ago was a blur.
"Forget it—I won't press you."
"In short, from today, Dvalin is Mondstadt's Guardian Beast. His standing is equal to mine. Understood?"
"Understood!"
the Knights of Favonius roared in reply.
Rowan continued:
"Good. Then disperse for now. Frederica—come to the royal council chamber in a while."
"Understood!"
The Knights and residents gradually filtered away.
Moments later—
a miniaturized Dvalin lounged on Rowan's shoulder, happily gnawing a strip of jerky.
Rowan hadn't expected the dragon to be such a foodie.
After tasting his roast last night, Dvalin was hooked—insisted on following him back to Mondstadt.
As long as Rowan kept the delicacies coming, he'd stay glued to Rowan's side.
Venti was… a little jealous.
With no better option, Rowan brought the little glutton along. As the apex of elemental life, a Dragon King could of course shrink himself—
and so he'd become adorably small. When Frederica entered the council chamber, this was the scene she saw.
A flicker of envy crossed her eyes. One day away, and Rowan had already won over Dvalin, one of the Four Winds.
As expected of my king.
Frederica knelt respectfully on one knee.
"My king—what do you require of me?"
(End of Chapter)
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