Dragon’s Duel
Lumine soared into Mondstadt's turbulent sky, her Wind-Wind Fruit power a shield against the chaos Stormterror unleashed below.
In tales she'd once known, this moment swept her into the storm, saved only by Barbatos' hidden aid to repel the beast.
Now, with gales bending to her will, she faced the dragon alone, her golden hair whipping as she rose to meet its wrath.
Stormterror's massive eyes locked onto her, its fractured mind marking her as a foe in an instant of feral instinct.
Its claws slashed through the air, a fierce onslaught that spared the city below, though confusion flickered in its gaze.
Lumine grinned, her body dissolving into a thousand wisps of wind, reappearing beyond its reach with effortless grace.
"This wind form is unreal," she thought, marveling at the power Harlan Flint's comics had bestowed upon her.
From a shadowed nook, Wendy—Barbatos in disguise—watched, a soft "huh?" escaping his lips as he leaned forward.
He'd tracked Stormterror's rampage, ready to intervene when it turned on Lumine, only to pause at her transformation.
Her wind-woven dodge caught him off guard, a trick beyond even his divine ken as Mondstadt's Anemo Archon.
"Lumine's incredible—this is epic footage right from the start!" Paimon cheered, her camera trained on the aerial dance.
She hovered at a safe distance, her tiny hands steady as she captured every twist of this unfolding saga.
Lumine's eyes narrowed, her sword untouched as she summoned the wind's raw might with a focused breath.
A tempest roared to life around her, the sky's clouds shredding under the swelling force of her elemental will.
From the chaos, a colossal cyan dragon took shape, its hundred-meter coils dwarfing Stormterror's battered frame.
She'd sculpted it in the dragon's own likeness, a mirror of scales and fury to taunt its fractured pride.
For a heartbeat, two titans glared across the heavens, their mirrored forms a spectacle that froze Mondstadt's fleeing masses.
"What's happening—two dragons, and they look the same?" a merchant gasped, his wares forgotten as he stared upward.
"The left's Stormterror, but the right's new—did that girl summon it?" a baker replied, awe choking his voice.
"It's massive—I'd bet on it over the old beast," another chimed, the crowd buzzing as hope edged out fear.
At the Knights of Favonius headquarters, Jean peered skyward, her stern face softening with a flicker of disbelief.
"Stormterror's attack was dire enough—now this?" she murmured, her hand tightening on her sword's hilt.
Lisa leaned in, her voice calm. "That's the traveler's doing, I'd wager—we'll get answers when she lands."
Jean nodded, her gaze lingering on the cyan giant, trusting Lisa's insight as the storm unfolded above.
Stormterror tilted its head, a puzzled rumble escaping its throat as it faced its wind-wrought twin.
"Why's there another me—and bigger?" it seemed to wonder, its fractured mind grappling with the surreal sight.
Wendy's jaw dropped, his divine senses tingling with the cyan dragon's raw, unbridled power.
"This isn't just show—it's a force to reckon with," he thought, stunned by the traveler's mastery over wind.
Her flight, her wind-form, and now this colossal construct—Lumine's skills defied even his godly understanding.
Paimon squeaked, her camera trembling. "Two dragons, but Lumine's is the real star—go get 'em!"
She'd heard Harlan tout the Wind-Wind Fruit's might, but seeing it birth this beast left her breathless.
Lumine flashed a daring smile, her voice cutting through the gale. "Let's see how you like facing yourself—charge!"
The cyan dragon roared, a bellow that shook Mondstadt's spires, its echo a challenge to the heavens.
Stormterror answered with a defiant snarl, its wings beating as it lunged with desperate, earth-shaking fury.
The clash erupted in a thunderous boom, clouds parting to reveal a sky scrubbed clean by their collision.
The cyan dragon faded into wisps, its purpose served, while Stormterror fled, battered and howling into the distance.
Lumine exhaled, her control still raw—she'd only just claimed this power, yet driving off a Guardian of the Four Winds felt like victory enough.
The storm receded, sunlight piercing the dark veil as Mondstadt's streets sighed in fragile relief.
Lumine descended, her boots touching stone as Paimon zipped down, camera still clutched tight.
"Got it all—calling this one How to Train Your Dragon," Paimon said, beaming at her first cinematic triumph.
Lumine tilted her head, puzzled. "How to Train Your Dragon—what's that about?"
She knew the camera mimicked photo devices, but Paimon's title sparked a curious itch she couldn't scratch.
Paimon smirked, a secretive glint in her eye. "It's a surprise—you'll love it when I show you later."
She imagined Lumine's reaction to the footage, a thrill that fueled her Traveler's Journal dreams even more.
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