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The Overlord of Teyvat

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The morning sun rose over Liyue Harbor, casting a golden hue on the calm sea. The tranquil waves lapped gently against the wooden docks, their rhythm a stark contrast to the bustling activity of the port. Merchants shouted over each other, peddling their wares, while dock workers hefted crates and barrels onto ships. The clatter of footsteps and the hum of conversation created an ever-present din, a symphony of industry and commerce.

Amid the chaos, a single figure moved with quiet authority. Momon’s imposing form, clad in a hooded cloak, dark armor, and his skeletal visage hidden behind a mask, cut through the crowd like a knife. Those who noticed him quickly stepped aside, whispers trailing in his wake. The hero who had helped save Liyue was not someone anyone dared to obstruct. A clear path opened before him as if the sea of people parted naturally, allowing him passage.

Momon’s strides carried him toward the harbor’s edge, where a massive ship loomed above the bustling port. The Alcor, Beidou’s legendary vessel, stood proud and imposing, its sails unfurled to catch the morning breeze. The ship's polished wood gleamed under the sunlight, its dragon-themed figurehead a testament to the ferocity of its captain.

Before stepping aboard, Momon paused, his sharp gaze catching sight of a familiar figure off to his right. Aether and Paimon were a few meters away, speaking with a tall, well-dressed man whose golden eyes and refined demeanor exuded an air of wisdom and authority.

“That guy again…” Momon muttered under his breath, his tone laced with quiet irritation. His piercing crimson eyes narrowed behind the mask as he recognized Zhongli.

From his body language, Zhongli appeared to be offering advice to Aether, gesturing calmly with his hands while Aether listened intently. Paimon, as usual, floated nearby, chiming in with occasional comments and nodding enthusiastically.

Momon stopped walking, his gauntleted fingers curling slightly as he observed the interaction. Zhongli, the so-called funeral consultant, had been a thorn in Momon’s side ever since the revelation of his elaborate plan to fake the death of Rex Lapis. While Momon understood the necessity of certain deceptions in the grand scheme of protecting Liyue, Zhongli’s method had left a bitter taste. Trust was a precious thing, and in Momon’s eyes, Zhongli had squandered it.

Yet, despite his misgivings, Aether seemed to trust him implicitly, which left Momon with little choice but to tolerate his presence. Besides, Momon thought that Zhongli wouldn’t want to confront him either.

Momon stepped onto the Alcor, the ship's deck bustling with activity as Beidou's crew prepared for the journey to Inazuma. The scent of salt and freshly polished wood mingled with the occasional whiff of brine from the sea, and the rhythmic creak of ropes being tightened punctuated the sounds of shouting sailors. Waves lapped gently against the ship’s hull, a soothing counterpoint to the lively scene.

“Ah, there he is! The hero of the hour!” a cheerful, familiar voice called out from behind him. Momon turned to see Beidou striding toward him, her confident gait unshaken even on the slightly swaying deck. She wore her signature crimson coat, the sunlight catching on her golden epaulets and the polished blade at her side.

“Captain Beidou,” Momon said, inclining his head slightly in greeting.

“Oh, come on, you can drop the formalities. Just ‘Beidou’ is fine for friends.” Beidou grinned, crossing her arms as she stopped in front of him. “Listen, about last night...” She rubbed the back of her neck, her cheeks tinting a faint red. “I might’ve overdone it with the alcohol. Totally passed out, huh? That must’ve been embarrassing.” She laughed, the sound rich and unapologetic, though a hint of genuine embarrassment crept into her expression.

Momon’s tone was calm, almost indifferent, as he replied, “Don’t worry about it. Things happen.”

Beidou raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Oh? So you’re saying it didn’t bother you? I half-expected a scolding, or at least a reminder about proper etiquette on a ship.”

Momon gave her a sidelong glance. “I’m not one to dwell on trivial matters.”

Her laughter boomed this time, drawing the attention of a few passing sailors, who exchanged knowing smirks. “Trivial, huh? Most guys would’ve been flustered with a captain falling asleep on their lap. You really are as unshakable as they say.” She leaned in slightly, teasingly, as if trying to gauge any reaction from him.

As the Alcor rocked gently with the harbor's waves, Momon turned to see Aether and Paimon climbing aboard. Paimon floated cheerfully, her small hands waving enthusiastically, while Aether carried his usual composed demeanor. The sunlight glinted off the ship's polished wood, and the faint sea breeze tousled their hair.

“Hello, Beidou!” Paimon greeted energetically, her voice bright as usual.

“Yo, welcome aboard!” Beidou replied, her grin as wide as the horizon. She leaned casually against the railing, one hand resting on her hip. “You two ready for some adventure? Hope you don’t get seasick!”

“Haha, we’ll be fine!” Paimon said, puffing out her chest as if to reassure herself as much as anyone else.

Aether stepped forward, his eyes meeting Momon’s. “Momon, we were just—”

Momon raised a hand slightly, cutting him off with a tone that was calm yet firm. “Yeah, I know. I saw.”

Aether blinked, then nodded, realizing Momon must have already noticed him speaking with Zhongli earlier on the dock. There was an unspoken understanding between them; Momon’s dislike for Zhongli wasn’t a secret, even if Aether didn’t entirely agree with it.

Paimon glanced nervously between them, sensing the tension. “Uh, anyway! Isn’t this ship amazing? It’s so big and sturdy—Paimon feels super safe! Right, Aether?”

“It’s impressive,” Aether admitted, his gaze wandering over the towering masts and the neatly coiled ropes. “Captain Beidou, you really know how to take care of your ship.”

Beidou laughed, her voice carrying over the chatter of the crew. “Of course! The Alcor isn’t just a ship; she’s a beauty, a fortress, and the best damn crew in all of Teyvat. Stick with me, and you’ll see just how far she can take us.”

“So when do we leave?” asked Paimon.

“Right now…” she said. “Alright, crew! Let’s get this ship moving! Time to set sail!” Beidou called, her voice carrying authority and excitement.

The crew responded with a loud cheer, their enthusiasm infectious as they got to work. Aether and Paimon found themselves smiling, while Momon stood silently, the wind ruffling his cape.

The Alcor cut through the calm waters, its sails catching the morning breeze as it drifted further from the bustling harbor of Liyue. On the dock, Zhongli stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the ship as it disappeared toward the horizon. His hands were clasped behind his back, the refined demeanor of the former Geo Archon betrayed only by the faint furrow of his brow.

“Momon…” he murmured, the name escaping his lips like a distant echo.

The weight of that single word lingered in the air. Zhongli’s thoughts drifted back to the unsettling encounter at the Northland Bank—the fleeting moment when he glimpsed Momon shrouded in darkness, his aura more oppressive than anything Zhongli had encountered in his long life. It was not fear that gripped him, but a sense of profound unease, as if he had gazed upon something that defied the natural order.

“What a strange entity…” he muttered to himself, his voice low but filled with contemplation. His gaze lingered a moment longer on the retreating ship before he closed his eyes, as if trying to erase the image of Momon from his mind.

Zhongli turned away from the pier, his steps deliberate and slow as he vanished into the thick crowd of merchants and travelers bustling through the port. The sounds of commerce and life surrounded him, but they felt distant—like echoes of another world.

The former Archon’s expression softened into neutrality as he navigated the crowd, though his thoughts were anything but calm.

“An enigma shrouded in darkness… not quite mortal, yet not a god. What place does such a being have in this world?” Zhongli pondered silently. His vast knowledge of Teyvat’s history and the divine offered no answers, and that uncertainty gnawed at him in a way he hadn’t experienced in centuries.

As he slipped out of sight, blending seamlessly into the throngs of Liyue’s citizens, one thing became clear in his mind:

“Whatever fate this traveler carries, it will inevitably converge with the path of the unknown. I only hope Teyvat is ready for what lies ahead.”

With that, Zhongli disappeared into the city, leaving the harbor behind, yet the shadow of Momon’s presence lingered in his thoughts like a distant storm on the horizon.

 

Aether and Paimon stood at the edge of the ship, gazing out at the sight. As the Alcor glided smoothly across the calm waters, the bustling city of Liyue Harbor became smaller in the distance. The golden glow of morning light bathed the receding coastline, creating a serene farewell to the land they were leaving behind.

“What a journey,” Paimon sighed wistfully, her gaze lingering on the fading silhouette of Liyue Harbor. “I’ll miss the food most of all. The Crystal Shrimp, the Lotus Flower Crisps… oh, and the Mora Meat!”

Aether smiled softly, his golden eyes fixed on the horizon. “Don’t worry, Paimon. We’ll be back again, no matter what.”

A soft voice drifted through the breeze, calm yet laced with a poetic warmth. “I’ll assure you, Inazuma is as great as Liyue in many ways—if not greater for some.”

Startled, Aether and Paimon turned to find a figure leaning casually against the ship’s mast, his demeanor relaxed but his presence striking. His platinum blond hair caught the light, with a single vivid streak of orange-red standing out against the pale locks. He wore traditional Inazuman attire, his outfit adorned with subtle floral patterns and tied with a red maple-leaf motif scarf. At his side hung a katana, its sheath finely crafted and well-worn from use.

“Who are you?” Paimon asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

The stranger straightened, offering a respectful bow. “My name is Kaedehara Kazuha. Please, call me Kazuha. I am but a wandering samurai from Inazuma, joining the Crux Fleet for a time to accompany them on their journeys.” His voice was gentle, each word carefully chosen, carrying the air of a poet or philosopher.

“Pleasure to meet you, Kazuha,” Aether said, extending his hand in greeting. “I’m Aether, and this is Paimon, my companion.”

“Paimon’s also his guide!” Paimon added quickly, puffing up with pride.

Kazuha chuckled softly, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement. “A fine introduction. It is an honor to meet travelers who carry the winds of adventure with them.”

Before the conversation could continue, Beidou arrived, her loud and lively voice cutting through the quiet exchange. “Ah! I see you’ve already met our temporary crew member!” she said, her signature grin stretching across her face as she clapped a hand on Kazuha’s shoulder.

Trailing behind her was Momon, his covered dark armor and imposing presence standing in stark contrast to the serene and approachable aura of Kazuha. His crimson gaze fixed on the samurai, silently analyzing him.

Momon noted the fine details of Kazuha’s appearance—the unique streak of color in his hair, the well-maintained katana at his side, and the unmistakable confidence in his stance. Though outwardly calm, there was a sharpness in Kazuha’s aura that spoke of skill and experience far beyond what his humble demeanor suggested.

“Kazuha’s been with us for a while now, lending a hand on deck and sharing his poetry when we’re not too busy. He’s got a way with words, let me tell you,” Beidou said, giving him a playful nudge.

Kazuha smiled faintly, inclining his head toward Beidou. “Captain Beidou speaks too highly of me, as always. My time aboard the Crux has been humbling, and I am grateful for the camaraderie.”

"Kazuha, this is Momon, one of the most interesting individuals I’ve had the pleasure of sailing with.”

"I’ve heard whispers about. It’s an honor to meet you, Momon. Your reputation precedes you.”

"Thank you." said Momon as they shook hands.

Paimon, intrigued, floated closer. “So, Kazuha, what’s your story? Why are you on this ship?”

Kazuha smiled faintly, the sea breeze tousling his hair. “I’ve been journeying for some time now, seeking freedom and harmony. Captain Beidou was kind enough to let me sail with her crew as I return to Inazuma. Though the land is in turmoil, it remains my home. Perhaps my journey will reveal something I have yet to find.”

“You speak like a poet!” Paimon exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

Kazuha chuckled softly. “And you speak like someone who sees the world with wonder. That’s a gift. Treasure it.”

Beidou let out a hearty laugh, throwing her head back as the sound echoed across the deck. She clapped Kazuha on the back with a grin. “Lord have mercy. It’s like flowers come out of his mouth whenever he speaks! This is exactly why we all like him, y’know.”

Kazuha offered a modest smile, seemingly unaffected by the captain’s loud praise. “Words have a way of bringing people together, Captain. Much like the wind, they can carry both peace and turbulence. I simply strive for the former.”

Beidou groaned in mock frustration. “See?! There he goes again, making even the simplest sentence sound like a song.”

Meanwhile, Momon’s sharp eyes remained fixed on Kazuha, observing the ease with which the samurai swayed the atmosphere around him. “He’s like a chill version of Venti,” Momon thought, recalling the carefree yet chaotic bard from Mondstadt. “Less booze, more serenity. But the poetic flair? It’s uncanny.”

“What’s a Venti? Is that some sort of drink?” Beidou asked, catching Momon’s murmured thought.

“No, it’s… nothing. Just a person I’ve met,” Momon replied curtly, shaking his head.

Paimon floated closer, clearly invested in the exchange. “He does remind me of Venti too! But you’re way calmer and way less… ugh… annoying with your riddles and tricks.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Paimon,” Kazuha said with a gentle chuckle.

Beidou threw an arm around Kazuha’s shoulders again, pulling him into a side hug. “This guy’s a keeper, I’m telling you. With his words, we’ll be halfway to convincing the storm itself to let us through to Inazuma!”

“Let’s hope it’s that easy,” Aether said, sharing a small smile with Paimon as they all gazed toward the distant horizon.

The ship rocked gently as it cut through the calm waters, the morning sunlight casting a golden sheen on the horizon. The group stood near the railing, enjoying the fresh sea breeze as they delved into their conversation.

Paimon floated closer to Kazuha, her curiosity sparkling as she asked, "So, Kazuha, what can you tell us about the Shogun?"

Kazuha folded his arms, leaning slightly against the railing. His expression grew thoughtful, his gaze distant as though he were recalling fragments of a memory. "The Raiden Shogun?" he began softly. "She is an Archon that pursues what she calls 'eternity.' She will relentlessly carry out her will, no matter the cost, with little regard for what others may think or feel."

Aether frowned, tilting his head. "Pursuing 'eternity'? What does that mean?"

Kazuha glanced at Aether, his crimson eyes reflecting both reverence and caution. "That, traveler, is a question many in Inazuma have struggled to answer." He paused, the wind catching a stray lock of his platinum-blond hair. "I too wish to understand her interpretation of 'eternity.' Take Liyue, for instance—its Archon rules through 'contracts' meant to ensure the prosperity and security of all who dwell there. Yet, what does Inazuma's pursuit of 'eternity' bring to its people? What does it demand of them? Those are questions I seek to unravel."

Paimon placed her hands on her hips, her tiny frame radiating indignation. "Sounds like it’s just making things miserable! She doesn’t care how her people feel? How is that fair?"

Kazuha gave a small, wistful smile. "Fairness is not always a consideration for those who wield absolute power. But I have my reasons for believing her path may be misguided. Perhaps she, too, is searching for something… or running from something."

Aether's brow furrowed as he pondered the weight of Kazuha’s words. "That’s strange. Archons are supposed to protect their people, not make their lives harder."

The samurai nodded. "Indeed. Yet, the Shogun’s actions have created much division. In her pursuit of eternity, she has surrounded the nation with storms, isolating Inazuma from the rest of Teyvat. The Sakoku Decree has forced many to leave everything behind or suffer under its harsh constraints. Even her own people question her ideals, though they dare not voice their dissent openly."

Paimon shook her head in dismay. "So weird. Every Archon seems to have their own rule that people live by. Mondstadt is 'freedom,' Liyue is 'contracts,' and Inazuma is 'eternity.' But 'eternity' just sounds so… strict."

Momon, who had been silently observing the exchange, thought. "Out of the three, Mondstadt's ideal still seems the most tolerable.”

The air grew quiet for a moment, broken only by the rhythmic creaking of the ship’s hull as it sliced through the water. The city of Liyue was now a faint silhouette in the distance, a reminder of the stability they were leaving behind as they sailed toward a nation embroiled in turmoil.

Beidou’s voice cut through the reflective silence as she sauntered over, her confident stride in sync with the gentle sway of the ship. She leaned casually against the mast, arms crossed, and smirked. "Just to tell you guys, there’s also a civil war happening over there, so yeah, that country is pretty messed up."

Paimon’s eyes widened as she spun to face Beidou. "What?! A civil war too? How do people even live like that?!"

Beidou shrugged nonchalantly, though there was a hint of seriousness in her tone. "It’s complicated. The Shogun’s Sakoku Decree isn’t just about keeping outsiders away; it’s also about controlling her own people. Not everyone agrees with the way she’s running things. Some are rebelling against her vision of 'eternity.' Of course, going up against an Archon isn’t exactly a fair fight."

Aether frowned, his hand gripping the railing. "Who’s leading the rebellion? Are they trying to end the Sakoku Decree?"

Beidou tilted her head thoughtfully. "From what I’ve heard, the resistance is being led by a group called the Watatsumi Army. They’re based on Watatsumi Island and have rallied under their leader, Sangonomiya Kokomi. She’s supposed to be some kind of tactical genius, though I’ve never met her."

Paimon floated closer, her expression torn between concern and curiosity. "So the resistance is fighting the Shogun’s army? That sounds dangerous… but kind of brave too!"

Beidou chuckled. "Brave is one way to put it. Desperate might be another. But I’ll give them this—they’re not backing down, even when faced with overwhelming odds. It takes guts to fight for what you believe in, especially when your enemy is a god."

Momon crossed his arms as he leaned against the ship’s railing, his voice calm yet carrying a weight of certainty. "Unless they have another god on their side, they are fighting a losing war."

Beidou, who had been inspecting the ship’s deck with a casual air, paused and looked over her shoulder at him. "True that." She turned fully to face the group, her expression hardening slightly. "I don’t know much about the Electro Archon personally, but from what I’ve heard, she’s a cold and distant ruler. The kind who makes decisions from a lofty perch, detached from the lives of her people."

Kazuha, who was seated nearby sharpening his blade with a whetstone, nodded solemnly. "It’s been a year since the civil war began, and still, the resistance fights on. I must admit, their tenacity is remarkable. I am surprised they have resisted this long against an Archon’s forces."

Paimon’s tiny hands flew to her mouth in shock. "A whole year?! That’s so tragic. Just imagine the damage this war must have done to Inazuma. All the people who’ve suffered… the homes destroyed… the lives lost…"

Momon tapped his gauntleted fingers against the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon as if pondering Kazuha’s words. "Well, maybe this Electro Archon doesn’t care much about trivial matters like the suffering of her people," he said bluntly. "Why should she, when she can let her lackeys do the dirty work for her?"

Beidou let out a dry chuckle, her arms crossing over her chest. "You’ve got a point there. It’s not like the Shogun herself is on the front lines. From what I’ve seen, she’s content to let her forces crush any resistance while she sits in her palace, untouched by the chaos."

Aether, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke his voice firmly. "But even if the Archon herself isn’t involved directly, doesn’t that make her even more responsible? She’s letting her people fight and die for her so-called ‘eternity,’ and for what? A vision of perfection that doesn’t even account for the lives it’s destroying?"

Momon’s tone was colder than the sea breeze as he stared into the distance, watching the stormy skies of Inazuma inch closer on the horizon. "Indoctrination and religious fanaticism do the job," he said, his voice laced with a quiet disdain. "And just like that, you have an army of brainwashed followers willing to die for a cause they barely understand."

Beidou sighed, shaking her head. "That’s the problem with regimes like this. Fear and devotion are their weapons, and they wield them well. But, hey," she added with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood, "every ruler thinks their power is unshakable—until it isn’t. The resistance is proof of that."

Paimon hovered closer to Momon, her curious expression slightly skeptical but intrigued. "Momon, you do seem to know a lot about bad rulers and messed-up systems. How come?"

His tone was calm but carried the weight of someone who had seen too much. "Not really, Paimon," he replied, his voice steady. "I just go by a simple truth: hard times create strong men, strong men create good times, good times create weak men, and weak men create hard times. This cycle repeats, and it doesn’t matter how long it takes—it’s inevitable."

The group went quiet for a moment, the rhythm of the waves filling the pause. The profound nature of Momon’s words seemed to resonate, even if they were hard to digest.

Beidou let out a low whistle, her arms crossed as she gave Momon an appraising look. "Well, damn, buddy, that’s one way to sum up the history of just about every nation I’ve ever been to. Guess you’ve thought about this a lot, huh?"

Kazuha closed his eyes briefly, nodding in agreement. "There is wisdom in those words. It reflects the balance of strength, peace, and eventual decline. Such a pattern is not easy to break, though. It’s a sobering reality."

Paimon tilted her head, still processing. "Wait, wait. So you’re saying… no matter what, things are always gonna go bad eventually? That’s kinda depressing, don’t you think?!"

Momon turned to look at her, his undead nature giving his gaze an unsettling calmness. "It’s not about being depressing, Paimon. It’s about understanding the nature of civilizations and people. Knowing this helps you prepare for when the hard times come—because they always will. And how you act during those times defines what comes after."

Aether placed a hand on Paimon’s shoulder, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "He’s right. Even if the cycle repeats, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t strive to make the ‘good times’ last as long as we can. It’s about finding strength and hope, even in the hard times."

Beidou gave a hearty laugh, shaking her head. "You’re all way too philosophical this early in the morning. But I’ll say this—if the weak men Momon’s talking about bring about hard times, then people like us better be ready to stand up and fight when it happens."

Paimon crossed her arms, still pouting but looking slightly comforted. "Hmph. Fine. But I still think there’s gotta be a way to break the cycle! Maybe not forever, but… at least for longer!"

“Well, an immortal being could maintain stability,” Momon said, his tone dry, “but after a few centuries, they usually get bored. Then they start creating problems—just for the excitement. No matter how powerful or wise, even immortals can’t escape the monotony of eternity. The difference is, when they’re bored, their ‘games’ often reshape nations—or destroy them.”

Aether tensed for a moment, recognizing the subtle jab. Momon wasn’t naming anyone specifically, but Aether knew who he was alluding to. The mention of immortals who meddled in mortal affairs could only bring one particular figure to mind: Zhongli. Yet, Aether chose to stay silent, knowing it wasn’t worth escalating.