Chapter 133. Morax finally makes a move
At this moment, Aila was no longer merely angry. She was on the verge of eruption.
Reason, restraint, training—none of it mattered. The only thought burning through her mind was simple and possessive to the point of absurdity:
Only she could bite Young Master's mouth.
That single act—impulsive, painful, intimate—had torn through the fragile balance she had been desperately maintaining.
She wanted to rush into the Abyss. To tear through its layers. To find [herself]. And to settle it.
From Cloud Retainer and Shenhe's perspective, however, the matter appeared far more mysterious. Aila must have sensed something from the Abyss.
Some fluctuation. Some disturbance. But what kind of event could push the normally composed Aila to this state?
Master and disciple exchanged a glance.
In each other's eyes, they saw the same thing: Curiosity.
Next time Futsu Mitama returned, they would ask him.
Not Aila.
Futsu Mitama.
Because only one reason could drive Aila into such reckless fury. And though they did not know why he was in the Abyss, both Cloud Retainer and Shenhe trusted him deeply.
If he had entered that place, there must be cause.
—
Meanwhile, in the Abyss.
After the brief, painful bite, Black Aila seemed to sense something approaching. She slowly straightened and lifted her fingers to her lips.
"It hurts—"
Futsu Mitama touched his own mouth helplessly.
"It does."
There had been no tenderness in it. Black Aila lacked experience. In Snezhnaya, she had likely observed lovers from a distance—gestures copied without understanding their meaning.
But a kiss was not like that. You did not claim someone with teeth.
"Mm." She nodded faintly and stepped back. "My apologies. The gods are about to arrive. Young Master, it is time for you to leave the Abyss."
Her tone was calm again.
"I can only express my reluctance in this way. In my memories, [I] must have done the same to you. It seems that back then, Young Master and I were both quite young?"
His heart skipped. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and covered her mouth.
"Alright, Ai-chan. Don't say anymore."
Silence lingered between them.
Black Aila looked at him with quiet confusion. She did not understand why he wished to stop her.
But she did not resist. She was already preparing to depart. The arrival of the gods meant he would be safe.
She, however, would remain. The Fatui were not something she could treat lightly.
Archons might deter ordinary Harbingers.
But Dottore? Dottore feared nothing.
If he learned she had gone to Liyue. If he learned of the merging.
Without a Complete Demon God-level power, she would not survive facing him. As a former reserve Harbinger, she understood precisely how terrifying he was.
"Tell my other half to improve her strength," Black Aila said quietly, her gaze steady. "If she does not wish her consciousness to be devoured by me, she should grow stronger. There is a chance she could defeat me."
A pause.
"But it is minuscule."
There was no arrogance in her voice.
Only certainty.
Movement stirred in the distance—the unmistakable pressure of divine arrival.
"I understand," Futsu Mitama called out as she turned away. "But you also need to be careful. Next time—before you and Aila begin fighting, tell me."
Black Aila stopped. For a moment, she stood with her back to him. Then she nodded.
A silent agreement.
The next instant—
She vanished.
Gone into the depthless dark.
Futsu Mitama remained where he stood, the warmth of the extinguishing bonfire fading around him.
He exhaled. A long, heavy breath.
The tragedy was no longer abstract. It had a shape now. Two identical souls walking toward an inevitable collision. And no matter which one survived— He would lose something that could never be replaced.
Futsu Mitama watched the place where Black Aila had vanished and let out a quiet breath. A moment ago, he had tried to pull her into the Chat Group. The reply was immediate and absolute:
This individual is already within the Chat Group.
Which meant one thing. To the system, Aila and Black Aila were the same existence.
No duplication.
No separation.
Even the supposedly omnipotent Chat Group had boundaries. For the first time, its authority felt—insufficient. But there was still the check-in reward. That absurd, unpredictable, all-purpose item pool. If something anomalous appeared—
If some conceptual artifact capable of severing soul overlap or redefining identity were obtained—Then perhaps Aila and Black Aila could become fully independent beings.
Not fragments forced toward collision. Not two halves marching toward annihilation. But two separate lives.
At this moment, Futsu Mitama had never wanted a reward so desperately.
He wanted Aila.
He wanted Black Aila.
Why must there always be a choice?
He was an adult.
He wanted both.
—
A dragon's roar tore through the Abyssal air.
Dvalin.
The Archons had arrived.
Futsu Mitama stepped out just as a bolt of violet lightning split the darkness and rushed toward him. Raiden Ei manifested before him in a flash of crackling electro.
Her eyes locked onto him instantly. Relief flooded her expression—so raw it bordered on unguarded.
"Good. Good."
Her voice trembled before she forcibly steadied it.
"You did very well. I do not know how you escaped the Abyss Order's encirclement—but you survived."
Her gaze scanned him carefully.
"No corruption. No visible injury. As long as you survive, that is enough."
The final sentence was softer.
Almost fragile.
She had not arrived too late. Not like five hundred years ago.
In that instant, her conviction solidified further—Futsu Mitama was the Eternal Guardian.
Capable. Enduring. Unbroken even under targeted assault by the Abyss.
She would not ask how. Secrets were not her concern.
Survival was.
"Shogun-sama" Futsu Mitama's tone held complexity he did not voice.
She had entered the Abyss for him. Without hesitation. Even Archons faced restriction here.
Without Morax and Barbatos stabilizing the path, she might have paid a heavy price.
And yet she came.
Unquestioning.
Unreserved.
"I owe Morax," Ei said calmly. "Without him, entry would have been far more troublesome."
Before further discussion could unfold, she simply reached out and lifted him.
Lightning flared.
They vanished.
—
Within the Chat Group, chaos erupted.
Azhdaha nearly exploded with excitement at the mention of Morax's presence in the Abyss.
Pull him in.
Now.
Immediately.
Meanwhile, Venti casually dropped the bomb that a terrifying presence had appeared and Morax had gone to confront it.
Azhdaha panicked.
Venti deflected.
Zhongli remained characteristically restrained.
Makoto observed.
Yae Miko stirred trouble.
The topic spiraled into territorial competition over Futsu Mitama himself—Liyue versus Inazuma—complete with mock political maneuvering.
Futsu Mitama skimmed the messages.
He did not believe Venti. If something truly required Morax's full force, the Abyss would not be this quiet.
It was likely misdirection.
Zhongli was careful. Too careful.
And Futsu Mitama was no longer naive. Maha Rukkhadevata undoubtedly knew. Raiden Makoto absolutely knew. Guizhong needed no confirmation.
Only Azhdaha remained blissfully unaware. Or perhaps willfully so.
Zhongli, for his part, likely understood that several members saw through him. Yet he allowed the façade to persist.
A silent agreement.
—
They regrouped beside Venti and Dvalin.
"It's good you're unharmed," Venti said with easy warmth.
He patted Dvalin idly. "If something had happened to you, I suspect I would've been cooked alongside this fellow."
Dvalin shuddered. He did not believe that was entirely a joke. Yet his draconic perception registered something else.
Futsu Mitama should have been exhausted.
He had suppressed Dvalin twice.
Fought Abyssal beasts.
Faced encirclement.
And yet—His aura felt—restored.
Not merely stable. Peak Condition.
Impossible.
Dvalin lowered his head.
"Raiden Shogun's Retainer—I offer my apology. Years of torment, combined with the Abyss Order's manipulation—"
His voice carried genuine remorse.
But beneath apology lingered bewilderment. What exactly had Futsu Mitama become?
Not an Archon.
Not yet.
Not an adeptus.
Not a pure elemental being.
But something increasingly difficult to classify. And as the gods gathered in quiet formation within the Abyss—
The unspoken truth settled heavier than any declaration. Futsu Mitama was no longer merely a participant in events.
He was becoming a fulcrum.
And the world had begun to shift around him.
"They made me go berserk, which caused great trouble for you and Mondstadt."
Dvalin's voice carried a weight that did not belong to a dragon of the skies, but to something far more fragile. Guilt clung to him like a second set of scales.
He had always liked humans. That was why he had descended in the first place.
Even when Barbatos's consciousness lingered in the winds, Dvalin had chosen to fight. He had chosen Mondstadt. Chosen its people. Chosen to believe in them.
And in the end?
Poisoned by Durin's blood. Forgotten in the drifting centuries. Whispered into madness by the Abyss Order.
The Dragon of the East had been twisted into a calamity.
He had forced three Archons to descend into the Abyss. He had indirectly caused Futsu Mitama to fall into enemy hands. If even one of them had failed to return—The weight of that possibility pressed heavily upon him.
"It's nothing."
Futsu Mitama smiled and shook his head.
He was alive. Breathing. Standing.
That alone was enough.
Besides, Dvalin had not suffered in vain. Much of the dragon blood that had poured from his body had been collected by Albedo and Kuki Shinobu.
Venti said nothing of this. Dvalin's blood was valuable—dangerously so.
Even if Albedo and Kuki Shinobu had refrained out of respect, others would not have shown such restraint. Monsters. Treasure Hoarders. Opportunists.
Better it serve those who would not squander it.
That was Venti's silent conclusion.
"Enough idle talk."
Raiden Ei's voice cut through the air, cool and decisive. She looked toward the darkened distance.
"It is time to leave. We cannot remain in the Abyss for long." A pause. "If we linger… the consequences may not be ours to control."
Venti nodded, lightness returning to his tone as if by habit rather than truth. He patted Dvalin's back. "Futsu Mitama, quickly. We should depart."
He glanced into the oppressive gloom.
"This incident has stirred too much."
Dvalin did not object. Arrangements had already been made. Futsu Mitama climbed onto the dragon's back. It was warmer than expected. Solid. Steady. For a fleeting instant, he almost forgot where they were.
His first time riding a dragon. Under different skies, perhaps it would have been exhilarating.
Here, it felt like retreat. He had just opened his mouth to speak—
"Tear—!!!"
Space itself seemed ripped open. From the deeper darkness of the Abyss, a black beast's claw extended outward, vast and grotesque, reaching for them.
It did not intend to let them leave. The pressure it carried was suffocating—an existence far below even this layer of corruption.
"Presumptuous."
Raiden Ei's eyes flared violet. Lightning gathered—
But something moved faster. A colossal Geo Spear tore through space. It descended like judgment.
The claw shattered instantly.
No struggle.
No resistance.
Only rupture.
The spear did not stop.
It plunged forward, carrying the weight of mountains, of contracts, of eras long past.
"Boom—!!!!"
Light came first. Then the distant explosion. A roar followed—inhuman, furious, wounded. Something far deeper had been struck.
"Mor…ax…!!!"
The voice that echoed upward trembled with resentment and fear.
It dared only to shout a name. It did not dare to emerge.
Futsu Mitama stared.
A spear.
Just that.
And yet it reduced something in the deepest Abyss to silence. Was this what "sealing" meant?
Break first.
Suppress later.
Strength beyond reckoning.
In the stories, Rex Lapis was restrained, composed, distant.
Here—He was devastation incarnate.
Liyue had always limited its Archon.
The Abyss did not.
For a moment, a thought rose unbidden within Futsu Mitama.
One day—He, too, would stand at such a height.
"Alright Let's go" Venti's tone carried forced ease. "If we remain any longer, things will grow troublesome."
He looked into the dark.
"Those who willingly fall into the Abyss lose themselves. Only pain restores them briefly. If they were lucid all at once… and swarmed us…"
His smile thinned.
"The monsters are not the true danger. The curse is."
Dvalin's wings beat. He rose into the air. Raiden Ei dissolved into lightning and followed. In the distance, Zhongli stood with stone mask and spear in hand, gazing into the depths.
He said nothing.
Then he turned away.
The turmoil stirred by the Abyss Order… finally receded into uneasy quiet.
—
Mondstadt.
The Knights of Favonius returned under Acting Grand Master Jean's command.
They had endured sleepless nights.
Endless patrols.
Broken ley lines.
Monsters in every direction.
As soon as Jean stepped into headquarters, she heard the news.
The Harbinger had escaped.
"Good."
The word left her before she could temper it. The Fatui had insisted that Futsu Mitama and the Harbinger be treated equally—both having unleashed divine authority within the city.
Provocation did not matter to them.
Logic did not matter.
Only leverage.
The Knights did accept their reasoning and excuses. But they lacked the means to silence it.
Now the Dragon Crisis was resolved. The ley lines stabilized. The monsters largely suppressed by exhausted Knights working beyond their limits.
The next conflict would be political.
Snezhnaya.
The Fatui.
And yet—The Harbinger had chosen to escape on the very day she was to be released.
Why?
It no longer mattered. Jean was ready to confront them directly.
"Acting Grand Master Jean!!!" Klee burst into the office, breathless. "That bad woman is here!"
Jean's brow furrowed.
Only one person earned that title. A moment later, the Harbinger entered.
No arrogance.
No theatrical contempt.
Only calm.
"Please manage your children," she said evenly. "It does not suit me to be called such things."
Eula. Kaeya. Lisa. They arrived in succession.
Knights guarded the doorway.
The Harbinger's subordinates did not force entry this time. They waited outside.
"You are aware you have violated Mondstadt's law?" Jean began evenly. "Escaping imprisonment—"
The Harbinger lifted a hand.
"The Fatui will withdraw from Mondstadt." Silence fell. "An elite squad will remain to protect Snezhnayan merchants. The rest will depart."
She met Jean's eyes.
"In exchange, the charges against me are dropped."
The room tightened.
Withdraw? After embedding themselves so deeply?
The offer was—extraordinary.
Dropping charges against the Harbinger did not absolve the Fatui of everything. There was room within the wording. And yet—
Why?
Jean understood one thing clearly. The Knights could not uproot the Fatui entirely. Not now. Not without cost.
The Harbinger was offering a concession.
Voluntarily.
Jean could not refuse.
"Do you hesitate?" the Harbinger asked coolly. "I believed my offer sufficient. If not… I will return to prison."
She turned.
"Wait." Jean stopped her. "Are you certain?"
A faint sneer. "I do not repeat myself."
"Why?" Jean pressed.
"This is confidential."
No more.
Kaeya stepped forward, smiling faintly.
"Very well. But a contract." His gaze sharpened. "No tricks."
An Electro Cicin Mage stepped forward, presenting a prepared contract. They had anticipated this.
Jean examined it. Kaeya. Lisa. Eula followed.
Clause by clause. No hidden traps.
Valid for one year. Withdrawal within that period. Advance documentation for future personnel.
Clean.
Too clean.
"This is genuine?" Jean asked.
"Yes." The Harbinger's composure did not waver.
Kaeya nodded slowly.
"One year—"
Short. Dangerously short. Yet within a year, much could change.
Mondstadt could fortify. Reposition. Prepare.
Jean signed. The Harbinger followed.
The contract was sealed.
She left without resistance. And she was smiling.
"It's a trick," Eula said immediately.
"Yes," Kaeya agreed. "But even a trick can be useful. To remove the Fatui within a year—we cannot refuse that."
Lisa leaned back in her chair, voice calm.
"Mondstadt lacks the strength to drive them out by force. If they choose to leave… and bind themselves by contract…"
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"It is an opportunity."
An opportunity bought with uncertainty. An agreement signed beneath invisible currents.
The storm in the skies had passed. But beneath the surface—
Something else was already in motion.
A year.
A brief span.
In that time, Mondstadt must prepare. Because when an enemy smiles after signing a concession—It is never without reason.
The dragon's guilt lingered in the wind.
The Abyss still watched.
Jean inclined her head.
Lisa was correct. That was precisely why she had hesitated before. The Fatui had rooted themselves too deeply in Mondstadt's veins. To tear them out by force would have meant blood in the streets and fractures that would take years to mend.
Now the contract lay signed. For the first time in many days, Jean felt her shoulders lighten—if only slightly.
Compared to a direct confrontation… compared to a desperate clash within the city walls…
A voluntary withdrawal was mercy. At the very least, Mondstadt now stood upon moral high ground. If the Fatui violated the agreement—if they schemed again—then Jean would not merely resist. She would act with justification, with law, with righteousness at her back. And yet—
Relief did not dispel doubt. Why would the Lady concede so easily?
The members of the Knights exchanged glances. Confusion lingered like a draft beneath the door. This did not align with the Fatui's nature.
It felt—calculated.
—
The same confusion followed the Lady back to the Goth Grand Hotel. The moment she stepped inside, a Fatui officer strode forward, fury barely restrained.
"Lady, why issue such an order?"
"We were prepared to fight to the death! Why surrender?!"
His voice shook—not from cowardice, but from wounded pride.
The Fatui in Mondstadt had labored for years. Bribery. Alliances. Silent infiltration. Influence seeded like frost beneath soil. And now—
Abandoned. With a single signature.
He was not a low-ranking grunt. Among the Mondstadt contingent, he stood just below the Harbinger herself.
To question her was audacious. To remain silent would have been unbearable. Others stood behind him, silent but resolute. Their eyes burned with the same question.
Why?
"Surrender?" The Lady laughed softly.
It was not mirthful. It was disdain.
Arms folded, chin lifted, she regarded him as one might regard an overeager subordinate who mistook noise for loyalty.
"What is our objective?" she asked coldly. "What is the Fatui's ultimate goal?"
Silence answered her.
"Do not mistake temporary retreat for defeat." Her eyes sharpened. "This is nothing more than lulling the Knights of Favonius into complacency. When the true mission concludes, what value remains in Mondstadt?"
Her words carried weight beyond their surface. She did not speak plainly. She would not. Not everyone present was worthy of hearing the full design.
The officer stiffened.
A realization flickered across his face. Could it be—
The two Electro Cicin Mages exchanged glances, their earlier frustration dissolving into dawning understanding.
Yes. The Anemo Gnosis.
That was the axis around which everything revolved. Not Mondstadt's politics. Not Raiden Ei's sudden appearance. Not Rex Lapis's interference. None of it mattered.
Barbatos's Gnosis was the prize.
If that was secured—Then Mondstadt would no longer be a battlefield worth occupying. The Fatui could shift their focus elsewhere. Liyue. Inazuma. Sumeru. One by one.
The contract was not surrender. It was misdirection.
"Prepare yourselves," the Lady said, already ascending the stairs. "The final act approaches."
She did not turn back.
"Some of you may die~" The words were delivered without softness. "But your deaths will push Snezhnaya forward."
There was no promise of survival.
No illusion of safety. Only purpose.
"For Her Majesty—offer your loyalty. Offer your glory."
Something ignited. The Fatui straightened, eyes blazing.
"For Her Majesty!!!"
The name of the Tsaritsa was not merely political allegiance.
It was faith. Where other nations sang of their gods with warmth—
Snezhnaya revered its goddess with cold devotion.
If blood was required, then blood would be given. If sacrifice was demanded, then sacrifice would be glorious.
The Lady stepped into the upper corridor alone.
Below her, the fervor swelled.
Above her, the plan tightened.
The Knights believed they had secured advantage. Mondstadt believed itself spared conflict. But a storm does not announce its true direction.
It only changes the wind.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
For anyone interested, or just want to support me. Hit the membership button to my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/cw/ModerateCitizens