"An envoy of the Wind God?"
"Why, what's wrong, Diluc — you heard that rumor too?" Venti's brow lifted. The tavern fell quiet; everyone in the little group leaned forward.
"Yep. I heard the same from an Abyss Mage yesterday," Diluc said without hiding it. He'd picked up more than drink orders in his business.
"Abyss Mages? Aren't those the ones you mentioned before, Venti?" Paimon piped up, confused and excited at once.
"Are the Abyss Mages hunting for the missing Anemo Archon?" Su Mo offered, thinking aloud.
Venti chuckled, then grew serious. "You all are far more interesting than I thought. But let me be blunt: that so-called 'Wind-God envoy' is almost certainly fake. It might even be a trick cooked up by those Abyss people."
Everyone turned to Venti. He—smiling, mischievous, but also the actual Anemo Archon in disguise—was the person who could talk most confidently on the subject.
"Why do you say that?" Diluc asked.
"Think about it," Venti said, tapping the rim of his cup. "Even if the whole of Mondstadt belongs to me in spirit, I gave up direct rule for freedom. If I wanted the Sky-String, I would get it myself. I don't send envoys to literally steal my own relics. That's nonsense."
Paimon looked offended on Venti's behalf. "If I were the god, I'd send someone too!"
Lumine (Lumine = the Traveler, here called "Lumine / 荧") interjected: "Venti did appear in Mondstadt recently — could that be related to the envoy?"
"Yes," Su Mo answered. "Venti did appear — but the story ties into a white-haired girl."
Diluc nodded. "There was a white-haired girl. She struck like a god and even managed to wound the Geo Archon—Mora****—wait, that's complicated. But she's dangerous. She has a strange space manipulation ability: large-scale teleportation and the ability to swallow ranged attacks and send them back."
Lumine sprang up. "Gold eyes? A lozenge cross in the pupil? That matches the stranger who took my brother!" Her voice trembled between dread and resolve.
Diluc's expression hardened. "That white-haired girl — I thought she was only a rumor. If she is the one, things are worse than we feared."
Lumine's plan snapped into motion. "I'll go to Liyue and find her. She took my brother — I need to bring him back."
"Hold on," Venti said quickly, his wind-song voice softening. "Before you leave for Liyue, talk to Su Mo. He's from Liyue — he might have crucial details. And if it's true that this girl killed the Geo Archon, well… there's more involved than anyone guessed."
Su Mo accepted without drama. "I'll tell you everything I know. For now, though — think strategy, not despair."
The group debated. Venti had argued the envoy was fake; Diluc had weighed alternatives; Su Mo proposed a trap.
"Even if the Sky-String can't be played as it once was — centuries leech its power — someone pretending to be an envoy might want to restore it," Su Mo said. "If we leak a believable repair method, the fake envoy may come steal it. That would expose her."
Diluc showed respect for the idea. "A bait. If she's truly an envoy, she won't need our faux method — she can contact the real Anemo Archon or knows a real way. But a fraud will take the bait."
Venti beamed at Su Mo. "Brilliant. A bit dramatic — like a poem — but brilliant."
Concerns remained: who would craft the fake restoration method? Who would present it without alerting the Church or the Knights? The Sky-String is sacred; asking the Church for help would raise flags.
Diluc frowned. "The Church keeps the instrument. They won't hand out restoration lore to anyone. They'd suspect theft."
"I might be able to help with the Knights," Diluc offered. "But not the method. That's arcana beyond the Church's usual disclosures."
Venti floated an arrogant grin. "Don't look at me like that. I know how to 'restore' the Sky-String."
Paimon rolled her tiny eyes. "Venti always says he can do everything! Don't listen—"
"Whether Venti is bluffing or not, we don't need absolute truth," Su Mo said calmly. "We only need something that looks convincing enough to lure a pretender. Even a partial method, outwardly plausible, can bait them."
"So — we'll play a false trail," Diluc summarized. "Where do we put it? The Church would be too cautious if we went to them."
Su Mo suggested: "Make it public enough via a source the fake-envoy trusts but not so official as to involve the Church directly — a controlled leak. Maybe through a trusted contact who can imitate archival notes: a scholar, a locksmith of wind-runic mechanics, or someone from the Church's periphery."
Lumine frowned. "But if the Knights investigate the leak, it could get messy."
"Leave the security matters to me," Diluc said, deadpan. "I'll see the Knights don't mistake us for thieves."
Venti clapped. "Perfect! We're a theatrical troupe of justice."
Paimon was still suspicious: "And who's going to present the bait? We can't have the Knights think we're stealing plans."
Su Mo shrugged, already thinking ahead. "I'll get Lumine to keep the strange crystal safe; it seems linked to the Wind-Dragon. Meanwhile, Venti and Diluc can plant the rumor and the 'repair method' through a route that won't trigger immediate alarm."
Venti's grin widened into that maddening child-god smile. "And I'll play a song that makes the pretense irresistible."
Before plans could fully solidify, the system—because this is Su Mo's life now—popped a new mission:
Side Task: Use the Sky-Walker persona (empty of spoilers; the trickster card) and perform an onstage riddle for Lumine.
Su Mo blinked at the popup and gave everyone a look that said: you have no idea how weird my life is.
"Fine," he said, deadpan. "We'll stage a fake repair method, plant it carefully, bait the impostor, and be ready when she bites."
"Excellent," Diluc said. "We'll prepare contingencies."
"Adventure and intrigue!" Venti hummed, already composing the song.
Lumine folded her arms and steeled herself. "We rescue my brother. Everything else is secondary."
Paimon cheered. "Yes! Rescue mission! And I'll get snacks!"
They all moved forward with that odd, fragile coalition: one god in exile, one tavern owner, a traveler with a stolen destiny, a bard who was more than she seemed, and a stubborn little food sprite. The city that loved the wind tightened against the coming storm.
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