Farewell to Freedom

Goethe's swift turnaround left onlookers blinking, jaws slack with surprise.

What sorcery flipped the old man so fast?

Was this noodle that good—hot water magic?

Six months' shelf life sounded like a tall tale.

Traditional noodles demanded simmering bones for hours.

Soup took time—patience birthed flavor.

This shop defied sense—revolutionary or scam?

Had Goethe been paid to hype it up?

He caught the murmurs and barked a laugh.

"Me, a shill? You lot are ridiculous!" he snapped.

"I just wandered by—no one's puppet here," he huffed.

"Doubt me? Step in and taste it yourselves," he challenged.

"It's cheap—Wind Knight's name backs it," he added.

Heads nodded—his logic held water.

Goethe raked in Mora—rent and hotel gold.

No need for petty gigs—he oozed credibility.

Curiosity won—folks streamed inside.

Orders flew—braised beef, mushroom veggie, ribs.

Minutes ticked, and gasps filled the air.

"Done already? Three minutes?!" a smith yelped.

"Too easy—smells divine!" a baker cheered.

"Cheap and tasty—unreal value," a guard marveled.

"Two more beef bowls—now!" a merchant barked.

"I'm hooked—daily stop from here on," a florist vowed.

"Pack me ten—two thousand Mora's nothing!" a kid crowed.

Laughter erupted—his glee was infectious.

Affordable bliss—noodles hit the mark.

The shop buzzed, instant fame igniting.

Word spread like wildfire—Mondstadt took note.

At the Knights of Favonius, Ye Ruo stood tall.

Eula flanked him, eyes locked on eleven beasts.

Long-haired tigers sprawled—Sumeru's fierce kings.

One stood out—Rajah, a hulking terror.

Under Ye Ruo's word, they lazed like pets.

Some pawed their faces, tails flicking slow.

Others flopped, basking in the sun's glow.

He'd summoned them to forge a beast cavalry.

Eula's hand had flown to her sword at first.

Feral roars in Mondstadt? Instinct screamed danger.

Ye Ruo's calm stopped her—trust overruled fear.

These tigers obeyed him—absolute, uncanny loyalty.

Her brow furrowed—when did he tame beasts?

Novels, noodles, now this—his quirks piled high.

What next—ruling the skies?

Her curiosity burned—this man was a puzzle.

Jean dashed over, knights trailing her wake.

Seasoned fighters—field-tested and sharp.

Nimue, eighth squad captain, led her crew.

They thrived outside, monster-slaying vets.

Jean froze, staring at the tiger pack.

"Senior, what are these?" she asked, voice tight.

A sultry laugh cut in before he replied.

"Long-haired tigers—Sumeru jungle lords," it purred.

"Territorial brutes—calm when fed, feral when starved," it explained.

"Dangerous to scholars—savage when crossed," it warned.

"Odd seeing them here, tame as pups," it teased.

Lisa swayed in, purple hat tipping low.

Her green eyes sparkled—intrigue lit her face.

Sumeru's genius witch, back from afar.

"Yaks, now tigers—Mondstadt's gone wild," she mused.

"Are you drugging them, cutie?" she grinned.

Ye Ruo met her jab with a breezy smile.

"No clue—just found 'em on the road," he lied.

"They liked me, followed home—simple as that," he shrugged.

"Beast cavalry's due—Falga gutted ours," he reasoned.

Lisa's smirk deepened—skepticism in spades.

"Cute story—sell it to someone else," her look said.

"Cavalry?" Nimue piped up, head tilted.

"Kaeya's the cavalry guy—where's he at?" she asked.

"Rebuilding needs him—his call," she added.

Ye Ruo's grin turned sly, wind whispering secrets.

"He's coming—give it a sec," he promised.

Footsteps echoed—Kaeya strode into view.

"Wind sense like a freak, huh, Ye Ruo?" he called.

The eyepatched captain sauntered up, cool as ice.

He clocked the tigers—surprise flashed, then dread.

"No intel on this—my network's blind," he groaned.

"Without you, I'd be pacing all night," he sighed.

"Beast cavalry? My lazy days are toast," he whined.

"Ye Ruo, you've dumped a mess on me," he griped.

"Buy me a drink—soften the blow," he bartered.

Ye Ruo chuckled, unfazed by the plea.

"Deal—booze is on me," he agreed.

"You pick the team—eighth and guerrillas are mine," he stipulated.

"They've got other gigs," he clarified.

Kaeya's face twisted—mock despair took hold.

"You've nabbed the best—left me scraps," he moaned.

"Tallest of the short—my luck's cursed," he lamented.

The system chimed in Ye Ruo's skull, panel flaring bright.

He leaned in, eager for the latest catch.

[Customer Jean completed Old Mond: Windborn Rebellion—Reward: Stormrider's Wings.]

[Stormrider's Wings: Grants the user ethereal wings of wind, boosting flight speed and agility; conjures gusts to repel foes or lift allies; enhances Anemo control, letting wind slice or shield with precision.]

Jean with wings—fitting for Mondstadt's lion.

The system pulsed, Ye Ruo's fame a roaring gale.

His chaos bloomed—Mondstadt braced for more.

***

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