“…”
As March 7 chuckled to herself, the air around the group grew heavier for reasons unknown.
“…”
Venti remained unbothered, closing his eyes as if patiently waiting for his moment.
“Ha… haha? Why aren’t you all laughing?!”
March 7’s confidence faltered as the oppressive silence made her feel out of place.
“March,” Welt spoke, gently adjusting his glasses with a composed expression that felt more like a teacher scolding a wayward student. “The universe accommodates endless possibilities. Even the most incredible or absurd scenarios demand an open mind for acceptance and understanding.”
“Not to mention,” Dan Heng added flatly, “you missed plenty of oddities in his behavior.”
“Wait, wait, hold on!” March 7 exclaimed, refusing to accept it. “I didn’t hear anything about Venti acting strange. He’s been normal this entire time!”
To prove her point, she poked at Venti’s cheek again. He opened his eyes, meeting hers with a look of kind patience, the type reserved for a particularly dense child.
Though slightly annoyed, March 7 pressed further.
“Alright then, tell me the truth. You’re Venti, right? Aspiring to be Belobog’s greatest adventurer? And you… er, might have… misled Miss Pela’s feelings a little?”
“Well…” Venti tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “I’d say that’s one truth, one falsehood, and one guess.”
March 7 blinked. “So, you really are Barbatos?”
“Hmph. Even if you try to flatter me now, it’s too late,” Venti replied, his tone oozing self-satisfaction.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” March 7 gasped, her worldview visibly shattering. “You’re telling me that you—the figure everyone respects, someone capable of altering an entire planet’s climate—are now tied up like a cabbage and dangling from my hand?!”
“…Well, you were almost right earlier. Though, your metaphor could use some work,” Venti said, attempting once more to wiggle free.
March 7 stopped teasing him and set him down.
“But still, how can you prove that you’re Barbatos?”
“Hmm… proving it might be tricky with my powers currently focused on maintaining the Ballad of the Tempest Winds. However,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “once Miss Lynx returns with Pela, I’m sure she’ll recognize me instantly.”
For a brief moment, he hesitated, his playful demeanor giving way to a more solemn tone.
“That said, I’d appreciate it if you could keep my presence here under wraps. If people saw me in such a pitiful state, their glowing image of me might shatter. As the host of this celebration, I’d rather everyone enjoy the festival to its fullest.”
“Then maybe you should start acting a bit more dependable!” March 7 huffed, crossing her arms.
Despite starting to believe him, she still struggled to understand why someone like Venti—no, Barbatos—would choose to wander around as a mere mortal.
Maybe it was because Belobog’s faith in him was so fervent that she instinctively compared him to other Aeons.
After all, weren’t Aeons beings of infinite mystery and grandeur, appearing only on a whim and wielding unparalleled power as they followed their Paths?
For the vast majority of mortals, they were nothing more than incidental bystanders in an Aeon’s grand story.
Who would have thought that a “god” would aspire to live as a mere “human”?
Yet, Venti seemed unperturbed by her confusion.
“Heh. I’m not some authoritarian old codger,” he said with a carefree smile. “Belobog’s problems should be solved by its people.”
“…That’s not wrong,” March 7 muttered, rubbing her temples as she tried to piece together what she was missing.
At that moment, the distant crowd began parting to make way for a group of Silvermane Guards. Their leader, none other than Pela, marched forward with urgency.
When her eyes fell upon Venti, tied up and surrounded like a hostage, her face went pale.
“Wh-what’s going on here?!”
Hands trembling, she adjusted her round glasses and addressed the group like the desperate relative of a kidnapped victim.
“H-how much do you want? Winter City Shields?!”
“Eh?” March 7 blinked, startled.
“To let Venti go safely,” Pela stammered, “how many Shields will it take? Or do you prefer Credits? If it’s over ten million, we might need some time to gather the funds…”
Her defeated tone left March 7 momentarily stunned before she realized something.
This could be a golden opportunity—a chance to make a fortune, expand our influence, and establish ourselves as major antagonists!
Of course, such daydreams had no place in reality.
Just as March 7 was about to untie Venti and explain, Pela suddenly shouted, “Stop!”
She ordered the Silvermane Guards to retreat thirty meters, creating a wide perimeter.
“H-huh? What’s happening now?”
While March 7 struggled to process the situation, Pela’s expression turned bitter, her voice tinged with humiliation.
“I understand your rules. Refusing to name your price means you’re ready to kill him at any moment. I’ll open the perimeter and let you leave as a show of good faith. Is that acceptable as a starting point?”
“No, no, Miss Pela, please let us explain—”
“Save it! I only regret not seeing through your wolfish ambitions sooner!”
“Wha—?!”
Even March 7 couldn’t hold it together anymore. Uncle Yang and Dan Heng exchanged helpless glances before sighing.
“Another expedition derailed by unexpected developments,” Yang remarked.
“More accurately, derailed by March,” Dan Heng corrected.
“Hey! Don’t pin this all on me!” March 7 puffed her cheeks indignantly. “Dan Heng, you helped tie him up too! How am I the only one taking the blame?”
“You’re the only one who believed Lynx’s story without question,” Dan Heng replied coolly. “Even after Uncle Yang warned you.”
“T-that’s… Where’s Lynx? I want to see her!”
At her words, a small figure in the crowd, wearing a cat-eared hat, visibly flinched and tried to slip away unnoticed.
Unfortunately for Lynx, March 7’s sharp eyes caught her immediately.
“Hold it! I object! My accomplice is right there! Bring her over to face justice too!”
“I’ve been busted…” Lynx froze, torn between defending herself and admitting defeat.
“Lynx, you’ve… betrayed us?” Pela gasped, her face twisted with betrayal.
“No, no! It’s not like that!” Lynx protested. “I was just trying to stand up for you, Miss Pela, but then I realized—uh—mmph!”
Before she could say more, Lynx slapped a hand over her mouth, terrified of accidentally offending Barbatos himself.
“Ah, karma strikes fast,” Venti quipped, leisurely observing the chaos.
“Isn’t the real problem you? A god tied up with a single rope—it’s almost embarrassing!” March 7 groaned, rubbing her forehead.
“Well,” Venti replied, his eyes glinting mischievously, “I’m just an ordinary bard, after all.”
“Breaking free doesn’t require divine power, you know!” March 7 snapped, exasperated.
At least, with the “kidnappers” willingly surrendering, the misunderstanding was quickly resolved.
With rosy cheeks, Pela marched over, dragging a mortified Lynx behind her to apologize. Lynx’s shame was palpable—her golden hair drooped like a wilting flower, her expression the very picture of misery.
Both girls wore signs around their necks:
“I’m sorry for wrongfully accusing someone” / “I’m sorry for causing unnecessary trouble.”
Despite their adorable appearances, Venti much preferred seeing people smile.
“Alright, alright. No hard feelings. Honestly, I had fun—”
Before he could finish, a sharp “Ouch!” escaped him as Pela’s heel found his foot.
The bespectacled woman smiled sweetly, leaning close.
“Barbatos, have you played around enough? Your people are waiting for you.”
“Alright, alright. My bad for causing a scene. But hey, it’s all for the sake of the celebration, right?”
“…Fine. Just don’t let it happen again.”
As Pela leaned in, she whispered softly, “All we want to hear is, ‘I’m back.’ That’s enough for everyone.”
For a brief moment, her warm breath and gentle words stirred something in Venti.
But all he could say was, “I never left, you know.”
The winds embrace everyone equally—but not all secrets need to be spoken aloud.
Pela tactfully changed the subject, her calm demeanor returning as she shifted the discussion to matters at hand.
“Do you know about the situation in the northern ancient battlefield?”
Venti’s lighthearted attitude sobered as he nodded. “The winds have already whispered to me. After this, I’ll head there to address the problem so everyone can enjoy Windblume Festival to the fullest.”
This piqued the interest of the Trailblazers. Welt, acting as the group’s spokesperson, stepped forward.
“Is there anything we can do to assist? If this involves residual effects from the Stellaron or creatures affected by corruption, we’d be more than willing to lend our strength.”
Pela opened her mouth to politely decline, but Venti’s eyes lit up.
He knew this altruistic crew wouldn’t hesitate to volunteer their help.
Grinning, he shook Welt’s hand with a flourish that oozed theatrical gratitude. “You’d really do this for us? Such noble spirits—you’ve restored my faith in mortals!”
Pela sighed, already resigned to the bard’s antics. “This guy… he just can’t help but push all the work onto others.”
Still, she couldn’t deny that the Trailblazers were better suited for the task. Though her guards could hold the line, having external reinforcements would significantly improve their odds of success.
Dan Heng cut straight to the point.
“Can you provide us with more detailed information about the situation?”
“Of course,” Pela replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her tone shifted into that of a seasoned intelligence officer. “During the decades-long struggle against the Antimatter Legion, Belobog’s northern frontlines were the primary battleground. Many automatons and Legion soldiers lie dormant beneath the snow, buried by the Eternal Freeze.
“Now that the Stellaron has been contained and the harsh climate has eased, much of the snow has melted, revealing remnants of the past—along with the dangers they bring.”
March 7 raised a hand. “So, basically, we need to help clean up the battlefield, right?”
“More or less,” Pela replied. “Though it’s not just a matter of clearing debris. Officer Seele and Captain Gepard are currently managing the situation. The monsters haven’t breached the frontlines, but they’re still a serious threat.
“Our main concern is the central area of the ancient battlefield, where remnants of the Fragmentum’s influence persist. Sensors indicate something anomalous is present—a relic of great power, perhaps even a Fragmentum creation.”
As Pela spoke, her mind briefly wandered to the stories of “Cocolia’s downfall.”
Some reports from deeper reconnaissance units hinted at the presence of a solemn Fragmentum Shadow in that area.
Belobog legends spoke of these shadows as echoes of past Guardians’ wills, manifesting in the wake of great calamities.
If those rumors were true, there was only one possible identity for that shadow.
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