“Wait, bard—what do you mean you didn’t look like this before? Do you have another form?” Paimon asked curiously, floating closer to Venti.
“Not at all. Back then, I didn’t look like this.”
Venti chuckled and shook his head. He reached out to catch Paimon mid-air, cradling her in his arms as his gaze drifted toward Windrise in the distance.
“Long ago, I was just one among a thousand winds—a tiny breeze, representing a small chance of change. I became the Anemo Archon through nothing more than coincidence.”
“This form I wear now… it isn’t even mine. It once belonged to a dear friend of mine.”
Venti gestured toward Windrise, his voice soft but carrying an ancient weight. “Two thousand six hundred years ago, that place wasn’t the open plain you see now. It was a land of rugged mountains, perpetually blanketed in snow and ice.”
“Back then, the world had not yet been divided among the Seven. Mondstadt was shrouded in frost, its people imprisoned behind walls built by a tyrant who ruled over the winds. The walls surrounded the city, and the barriers of violent storms ensured no one could pass—not even birds.”
Venti smiled faintly. “In those days, Mondstadt’s ruler was a wind tyrant—a god of tornadoes named Decarabian.”
“At that time, nearly all the gods believed themselves to be righteous. And for their beliefs, they waged endless wars… even the tyrant of storms.”
As he spoke, Venti’s eyes seemed to pierce through time itself, his gaze fixed on something far beyond the horizon.
“Perhaps gods can love their people, but not all gods can give their people what they truly desire.”
“Back then, I wasn’t a god, not even close. I was merely a wisp of wind—a formless elemental spirit, drifting across the skies with no human form.”
Venti extended a hand, and a gentle breeze swirled in his palm, dancing lightly as though playing with its master.
“Like Stanley, I borrowed this appearance from someone I cherished dearly.”
His voice softened as he began recounting the tale.
He spoke of a time when Mondstadt was ruled by a tyrant. He spoke of a boy born within the storm barrier, a boy who had never seen the open skies or the flight of birds beyond the walls.
Though the boy had never known the world outside, he dreamed of it endlessly.
The freest wind had become the greatest cage, and the boy longed to shatter it.
The boy turned to the wind spirit who brought him glimpses of the world beyond, and to all those who yearned for freedom. With unwavering determination, he invited them:
“Join me. Together, we will tear down the walls and topple the tyrant.”
The boy used his poetry to rally the people, raised the banner of resistance, and led those who refused to yield in a battle for freedom.
It was a time of great upheaval. Thrones crumbled, chaos swept the land, and nations trembled.
Amidst the smoke, we bore witness to the tyrant’s fall.
Amidst the ashes, we saw the tower collapse.
Thus began the new Mondstadt. And from then on…
None would claim the throne.
Venti stopped there, leaving the story unfinished.
“And then?” Paimon leaned forward, eager to hear more. The story had captivated her, leaving her wanting to know what happened next. “What happened to your friend?”
“Do you really want to hear more, Paimon?” Venti asked, his gaze still locked on Windrise. His back was turned to Jia Changjiang and Lumine, making it impossible to read his expression.
“Of course! I—”
Before Paimon could finish, she was snatched from Venti’s arms by Lumine, who promptly bit her face.
“Wah!” Paimon shrieked, flailing in surprise. “Traveler! What are you doing?!”
“Just curious about how Paimon tastes,” Lumine teased, a sly smile on her face.
“Paimon is NOT food!”
Lumine playfully pulled out a napkin and tied it around her neck. “Denied! I’m starving!”
“Stay away from me!!!”
Paimon darted away from the statue’s hand, and Lumine spread her Wind Glider to chase after her.
Their antics lightened the somber mood, drawing a chuckle from Venti.
“Heh~ They really are lively,” Venti said, hugging his knees to his chest.
“Lumine’s incredibly sharp. Even if she’s a little difficult to describe at times, she’s undeniably kind.” Venti smiled as he reminisced about their first meeting—when Lumine had grabbed him by the collar, threatening to turn him in for a bounty at the Knights of Favonius.
“She must have understood my story. That’s why she acted like that,” Venti murmured, his gaze following the pair as they played in the skies.
As he watched, a bottle of wine was suddenly thrust into his line of sight.
“Do they remind you of yourself and that boy?” Jia Changjiang asked, settling beside Venti on the statue’s hand. His legs dangled over the edge as he passed the bottle to the bard.
Venti stared at the wine for a moment, then turned to Jia Changjiang, who added with a grin, “Drink up. I bought several bottles from Master Diluc.”
Jia Changjiang reclined, using his arms as a pillow as he looked up at the stars. “Wine’s a wonderful thing.”
“When life’s good, you raise your glass to celebrate.”
“When life’s tough, you drink to forget.”
“Venti…” Jia Changjiang’s tone softened as he spoke.
“I’m not about to pretend I understand your past or have anything profound to say about it.”
“All I can do is listen… and share a drink with you.”
He sat up, patting Venti on the back.
“Unlike you, my life’s only been a little over twenty years so far. Compared to most people in this world, my experience is insignificant.”
Jia Changjiang pulled a bottle of apple cider from his system inventory, taking a swig before continuing.
“Events from thousands of years ago are so far removed from me. But I know this much: happiness is something you can share with anyone, even an enemy. It’s like the joy I feel when I fight.
“But sorrow? Heaviness? Those are burdens only you can carry.”
Jia Changjiang raised his bottle toward Venti in a toast.
“I wouldn’t be so arrogant as to think I could shoulder the weight of emotions from thousands of years ago with my measly two decades of experience.” He chuckled. “Compared to a god, my life is short—too short.”
“But hey, at least for now, I can be a listener. Or your drinking buddy. Whether we’re celebrating or commiserating, that’s up to you.”
Jia Changjiang took Venti’s bottle, uncorked it with his teeth, and handed it back to him. He then raised his own bottle toward the horizon, toasting the view.
“This land where none reigns… do you think that boy would’ve liked it?”
“…Yes.”
“He would’ve loved it.”
—
This is a fan translation of 武器大师在原神绝不死于徒手 by 徐人双 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!
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