"Decarabian, that tyrant! Just drop dead!" a curse came from the crowd.
Like a wicked dragon whose reverse scale had been touched, Amos's eyes flew wide with fury. She shot upright, her voice sharp and piercing as she cried out:
"Who dares defile my king with such vile words! Seize them!"
The soldiers, already on standby, immediately charged into the crowd.
The guards' act of seizing people lit the final fuse.
The crowd's fury completely erupted. They began to shove the guards who rushed in, some even resorting to fists and kicks.
A few of the citizens who were caught, even as they were dragged along the ground, did not stop cursing the "tyrant."
The chaos escalated quickly. Many were no longer content with just insults; they began picking up loose stones from the ground and hurling them towards the cavalry and the distant noble manors, attempting to vent their rage on the "oppressors" they could see.
Lumiere received an order. Another area was short on manpower and needed reinforcements. He instructed his subordinates to keep an eye on their current section while he personally led a group to maintain order elsewhere.
…
Coppelia weaved through the agitated crowd, her objective clear, slowly approaching the young poet.
Along the way, she helped up those who had fallen to prevent them from being trampled, or discreetly knocked stones from the hands of others to avoid accidental injuries.
She finally got close to the young poet.
The young poet was surrounded by a few people, his expression anxious as he still tried to explain something. Suddenly, an enraged citizen snatched the lyre he was clutching and slammed it onto the ground. A visible crack split the wooden body of the instrument. The person then threw a punch at the boy's face.
Coppelia stepped forward just in time, raising a hand to firmly block the punch. She gently pushed the person away, not striking back.
She bent down, picked up the cracked lyre, and pushed it back into the boy's arms. "You can't reason with them," she said succinctly. "Get somewhere safe first." Then she took his arm and quickly pulled him away from the center of the conflict.
…
Lumiere arrived at the most intense point of the conflict with more cavalrymen.
He loudly commanded his men to stop the violence, whether from the agitated citizens or his own soldiers.
As he pulled apart those brawling, he endured the hateful gazes and misplaced blows from some of the citizens.
Watching the completely out-of-control scene before him, a cold voice echoed in his heart: "Persuasion… is it truly just a fantasy?"
A long time later, the petition that had carried countless hopes finally ended in utter chaos and despair.
Many wishes were shattered, many beliefs collapsed, and many hearts died.
The people turned their gazes to the high tower, to the noble manors, and even to the empty sky, desperate to find a sliver of comfort or an answer. But they found nothing, and could only retract their gazes with even greater desolation and stagger away. Life had to go on, even if the road ahead seemed even darker.
Lumiere had been rushing everywhere to suppress the unrest, exhausting himself both physically and mentally. He could finally catch a brief moment of respite.
His head was bowed, sweat dripping from his chin onto a grayish-white stone by his feet.
He stared at the stone, recalling the words he had so firmly believed not long ago: "Even a stubborn stone can be moved."
An indescribable rage and self-mockery welled up inside him. He abruptly raised his greatsword, aimed the tip at the stone, and thrust down with all his might!
With a crack, the stone shattered into several pieces.
…
Meanwhile, on her way back to the high tower, Amos's mind replayed the utterly disappointed and even hateful gazes of the people.
She did not want her king to become a true "solitary king." She longed to see a grand spectacle of thousands of subjects sincerely supporting and following him—that was the image of a true king in her heart.
"No," she clenched her fist. "I can't let things get worse. I must go and admonish the king myself, regardless of whether He listens…"
The thought that this might be an opportunity to finally make the king's gaze fall upon her sparked a faint glimmer of hope in her heart.
…
Coppelia pulled the young poet, quickly moving through the restless crowd and stopping in a relatively empty corner on the outskirts of the sacrificial plaza.
The boy was still shaken, his chest heaving. He clutched the wooden lyre tightly, a clear crack visible on its body. His fingers were white from the force of his grip.
The boy was dressed as a typical bard. He wore a pair of slightly worn black shorts, a simple green vest, and a light brown cloak over his back, which gave him a somewhat carefree air.
"My name is Coppelia," she said, gesturing to the quiet companion behind her. "This is Columbina."
Her gaze fell on the damaged lyre, a hint of apology in her voice. "I should have been faster, then this lyre wouldn't have…"
"It's alright," the boy took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looked down at the cracked instrument, his expression uncertain as if wondering if a craftsman could fix it. "It… should be repairable. By the way, my name is Himmel. Thank you for your help."
As Himmel spoke, he looked towards the towering high tower in the distance, his eyes a mixture of anger and helplessness.
Coppelia got straight to the point. "I was looking for you because I need to confirm a few things."
Himmel turned his head, slightly puzzled. "What is it?"
"Have you ever felt a wind other than the gales?" Coppelia asked, looking into his eyes.
Obvious confusion appeared on Himmel's face. "Besides the gales, could there be any other kind of wind in Mondstadt?"
This answer immediately confirmed for Coppelia that Himmel had not yet met the wind spirit.
Just then, the ever-silent Columbina gently tugged on Coppelia's sleeve, then turned in another direction and waved.
Coppelia looked in that direction.
A child's voice called out, "Found you!"
A few children ran over. Coppelia recognized them as the ones who had watched her "magic" show earlier.
They still looked malnourished, but their spirits were high.
"Did you come all this way just to find me?" Coppelia asked.
The boy who had played the "knight" spoke up first. "The magic gems you gave us that day have disappeared…"
"Can you tell me how they disappeared?" Coppelia asked patiently.
The boy explained, "At first, we all thought we'd accidentally lost them and were sad for a while. But then we realized that everyone who got a gem had lost it. And someone saw the gem slowly shrink in their hand until it vanished completely."
Another child added, "When the gem disappeared, my hand felt numb and I couldn't move it."
Coppelia understood at once. The "gems" she had created were condensed from Geo elemental energy. The elemental energy would naturally dissipate over time, which was why the gems disappeared.
But why the numbness?
Wait, unguided elemental energy is harmful to ordinary people!
The Order of the Seven has not yet been established, so there's no such thing as a Vision.
And the children have no way to channel elemental energy, so the numbness means…
She immediately grabbed the child who mentioned the numbness, her voice tense. "Is your hand injured?"
__
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