Ashes of Liberty

Mondstadt's cathedral plaza shimmered under a fragile dawn, its cobblestones strewn with readers clutching Pupils of the Gu King as tears streaked their faces.

Ye Ruo had been the intended architect of this mythic crescendo, his words crafted to crown the wind elf as Barbatos and burn Old Mond's tyranny to ash.

Yet the nameless boy, a fleeting spark of hope beside the nascent god, emerged as the unexpected soul of the tale, his sacrifice a wound that bled through pages and hearts alike.

His death—etched in the dawn of freedom, a price paid for a sky he'd never see—shattered the city's joy as the Gale King's fall unveiled a bittersweet dawn.

The plaza hummed with grief, its air thick with the scent of ink and the faint musk of dandelions carried on a mournful breeze.

Bookstores stood silent—[Wind and Bird] branches dimmed, their wooden shelves bare, lanterns casting a somber glow over huddled crowds.

Readers wept—nuns clutched rosaries, merchants stared at pages, voices broke with sobs.

Ye Ruo lingered—wind tugged his cloak, his Anemo Vision a steady pulse against the leather of his tunic.

"Liberty—costly," he murmured, gaze heavy.

A nun sobbed—"Boy—gone," she choked.

A boy clutched his book—"Barbatos—alone," he rasped.

The tale unfolded—Old Mond blazed, fierce and raw.

Rebels surged—flags snapped, blood pooled.

Gale King's tower trembled—stone cracked, storm roared.

"Freedom—ours!" Gurnhild bellowed, wind flared.

Lackeys fell—swords clashed, lines broke.

Arrows rained—rebels bled, resolve held.

"Push—end it!" Lagenfind roared, blade swung.

The boy grinned—bow taut, hope gleamed.

Wind elf soared—cyan light flared, power pulsed.

"Together—rise!" it cried, gusts lashed.

Gale King snarled—throne shook, eyes wild.

"Subjects—mine!" he thundered, storm swelled.

His gale tore—rebels flew, screams drowned.

Wind elf stood—shield bloomed, will burned.

"Wishes—live!" it vowed, light surged.

A twist struck—arrows pierced, boy fell.

"No—stay!" Lagenfind yelled, hand stretched.

Blood sprayed—smile held, bow slipped.

"Sky—blue," he gasped, eyes dimmed.

Gurnhild froze—"Brother—down," she choked.

Rebels wailed—wind surged, rage ignited.

The system chimed in Ye Ruo's mind—panel glowed.

He sighed—readers' gains bore his grief.

[Customer Amber completed Old Mond: Emberwind Legacy—Reward: Pyroflight Quiver.]

[Pyroflight Quiver: Infuses arrows with blazing Pyro, striking with fiery precision; summons a flame trail to burn or guide; can unleash a volley of embers, swift as a scout's leap.]

Amber with fire—spirit flared brighter.

Pages turned—Gurnhild roared, sword raised.

"Fight—believe!" she shouted, wind blessed.

Rebels rallied—voices rose, prayers soared.

"Barbatos—hear!" a smith bellowed, hammer swung.

Wind elf glowed—aura swelled, storm clashed.

Gale King reeled—"Prayers—not me," he rasped.

His gale faltered—cries pierced, truth broke.

"Pain—mine?" he muttered, throne cracked.

Wind elf struck—gale met gale, tower shook.

"Freedom—now!" rebels chanted, fists clenched.

Gale King laughed—"Take—rule," he sighed.

His storm faded—power flowed, god fell.

Wind elf rose—Barbatos born, winds rolled.

Tower crumbled—ash rained, dawn bloomed.

A subplot stirred—Lady watched, cathedral loomed.

"God—new," she purred, Hydro pulsed.

Rosalia shadowed—"Fools—strike," she hissed.

Ye Ruo turned—wind flared, senses sharp.

"Church—now," he barked, streets blurred.

Crowds parted—readers froze, chaos brewed.

Cathedral towered—spires gleamed, air hummed.

Fools crept—nuns screamed, shadows danced.

Lady stood—water gleamed, cruel grace.

"Harp—mine," she sneered, cage bloomed.

Ye Ruo's gale roared—wind shredded, clashed.

Hydro lashed—ice met water, frost spread.

Rosalia struck—spear grazed, blood dripped.

"Light—burns," Lady taunted, dodging swift.

"Shadow—cuts," Rosalia growled, lunging.

Wind broke—cage shattered, harp stood.

"Heart—soon," Lady vowed, water splashed.

She vanished—echoes lingered, threat alive.

Ye Ruo panted—"Close—damn," he cursed.

Rosalia's gaze softened—"Saved—still," she murmured.

Mondstadt sighed—dragon slept, Fools stalled.

Readers mourned—boy's end sank deep.

"Eve—lost," a girl sobbed, book clutched.

"God—grieves," a man rasped, awed.

Ye Ruo's tale spun—liberty's ash settled raw.

The system pulsed—fame a rising tempest.

His legacy burned—Teyvat's winds sang wild.

***

Support me on Patreon to read 50+ advanced chapters: patreon.com/Nocturnal_Breeze