Hu Tao Is Monetizing My Existence. [135]

As the cavalry captain of the Knights of Favonius, Kaeya carried authority—and was well-known throughout Mondstadt. Using the Knights’ name to evacuate nearby adventurers would be far more effective than if Jiang Bai or even Albedo did it.

“By 3 p.m., we should have all the explosives in place. We’ll detonate them at that time, so make sure no one is anywhere near this area when that happens.”

“No problem.”

Kaeya agreed readily.

The sky was already starting to darken, though night hadn’t fully fallen. Until tomorrow, the time ahead was his to use freely.

He turned to look at the massive Skyfrost Nail. Reflected in the firelight, his eyes seemed to burn with intense emotion.

—

With the plan set, the group settled down to rest.

After a full day of climbing, even the most resilient among them needed a break.

Jiang Bai hung his damp cloak near the fire to dry. He planned to teleport across a few anchor points afterward—maybe he’d be lucky enough to run into Hu Tao.

Albedo was cooking dinner for the group, and Klee sat nearby, watching with mouthwatering anticipation.

Cartis, meanwhile, remained dormant inside his journal, his spirit slumbering to avoid further disruption from the mountain’s chaotic ley lines. Unless someone called him, he wouldn’t appear.

Only Kaeya stepped away, now that he’d warmed up, and walked over to stand before the spike.

He looked up at the massive structure, his expression unreadable, tinged with something deeper.

Though known as the captain of Mondstadt’s cavalry, Kaeya also carried another identity—he was a descendant of the fallen kingdom of Khaenri’ah.

Khaenri’ah: a nation destroyed five hundred years ago, erased from history.

Few now remembered its name, and fewer still dared speak it aloud.

But the ancient Ruin Guards scattered across Teyvat were all relics of that once-flourishing nation.

The full history of Khaenri’ah was now lost to time. What little remained was known only by fragments—that it had been a nation hidden deep underground, and governed by no god.

Kaeya himself remembered little. He had come to Mondstadt as a child. Everything he knew about his homeland came from what his father had once passed down to him.

This spike, the Skyfrost Nail, had fallen from above—and so too had Khaenri’ah been destroyed by the heavens.

Kaeya tilted his head, eyes tracing upward.

Above the layered clouds, he imagined he could see a floating island suspended in the sky.

It was Celestia—the divine order watching over this world.

He stared upward until his neck ached, and finally lowered his gaze.

Instead of touching the spike, he began slowly walking around it, searching for anything unusual.

There was no way this massive structure had fallen here by coincidence. This mountain must hold some kind of secret.

From what he’d heard, there had once been an ancient nation on this mountain—now long perished.

He hadn’t known what had destroyed them, but now the answer was clear.

That spike had driven their kingdom into ruin, burying it beneath ice and snow.

How similar… how eerily similar to what happened to Khaenri’ah. The only difference was what had fallen.

But then—what had they done to deserve such punishment from the sky?

He walked a long arc around the summit until he spotted something buried in snow: the Ruin Guard Jiang Bai had defeated earlier.

It lay motionless, half-buried in white. Its frame was wrecked and lifeless, but its central core still flickered dimly, emitting faint mechanical sounds.

Kaeya knelt and brushed the snow off its body, exposing the dull glow of its heart.

With the snow cleared, the sound grew clearer.

He listened closely—and then frowned in surprise.

The message being transmitted from this Ruin Guard was encrypted using a unique Khaenri’ahn cipher—one he happened to know.

After decoding it, the message resolved into a single, chilling line:

“For the sake of our nation, we could not abandon the power sent from the sky—but we failed.”

Power sent from the sky…? Failed…?

Was the message referring to the ancient mountain kingdom—or to Khaenri’ah itself?

Kaeya’s mind swirled with questions, and the deeper he went, the more they multiplied.

He stood again and continued onward, eventually reaching the mountain’s highest point—the place once said to be closest to the sky.

Now, it was nothing but ruins.

The ceremonial platform built long ago had crumbled, with only half of it remaining; the rest lay buried beneath a thick blanket of snow.

From this vantage point, the entirety of Dragonspine unfolded before him.

The sun had just dipped below the peaks, and for once, the sky above was clear.

He stood still, gazing up at the heavens. Emotions churned in his eyes—unspoken, complicated—until night fell and the stars overtook the sky.

—

Jiang Bai tore into a roasted Snow Rabbit leg, his mouth slick with oil.

Albedo’s cooking was impressive—his grilling skills in particular were phenomenal.

“This is amazing! Albedo, you’re really good at this!”

“I used to grill meat often,” Albedo said with a small smile as he stirred the fire.

“When I was traveling with my master, we often encountered a type of giant spider beneath the Petrified Trees. Not pleasant to look at—but the meat was absolutely exquisite.”

“I’d bind it tightly with ground gardenia and lemongrass, coat it with white cardamom, then slow-roast it for hours. The flavor? Far superior to this snow rabbit.”

As he spoke, even Albedo looked nostalgic for the taste of spider.

Jiang Bai thought about the spiders he’d seen before, realized they were probably the same kind—and couldn’t hide his disbelief.

“Wait… you can eat spiders?”

All those legs and bristly hairs—it didn’t seem like there’d be any meat worth cooking.

“They’re huge. Bigger than Klee,” Albedo said, gesturing roughly to her height.

Klee slurped her drool back into her mouth. “Giant spider… roast spider…”

She remembered some web-building spiders up in the attic. When they got back, she’d catch one and have Albedo-gege roast it for her!

Just then, Kaeya returned, his usual lazy grin back on his face.

“Looks like I missed dinner.”

“Here. Saved one for you.”

Albedo had roasted four snow rabbits—one for each of them, perfectly portioned.

Kaeya took his and bit into it, sighing deeply. “If only I had a glass of Death After Noon to go with this…”

Roast meat and alcohol—always a perfect pair.

But there was no such luxury out here. The supplies were basic, and wine wasn’t one of them.

Jiang Bai, full and content, let out a satisfied burp. He wrapped up a leftover rabbit leg in oiled parchment and tucked it into his coat to keep warm.

He’d saved it for Hu Tao.

As a proper little brother, of course I can’t forget to bring something tasty back for my boss.

“I’m heading out to look for her. She’s probably already somewhere on the mountain.”

With that, he waved goodbye to the group and walked toward the teleport anchor.

—

This is a fan translation of 胡桃拿我冲业绩 by 余溯. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!