When the sky had just begun to lighten, Yilan arrived at his office in Mondstadt.
His office was located at the highest point of the Church of Favonius building—also the highest place in all of Mondstadt. He walked to the window and pushed open the shutters. A slightly chilly morning breeze swept in at once, carrying both the lingering coolness of melting snow and the fresh fragrance of spring's return.
From his vantage point, the entire city of Mondstadt was visible.
Though it was still early, smoke was already rising from many chimneys. Even in this easygoing city known for its many free-spirited citizens, quite a few people were already busy this morning.
—Because the Badminton Festival was approaching.
The Badminton Festival could be considered Mondstadt's most important celebration. According to legend, before the founding of the city, the Anemo Archon, Barbatos, cast a bird feather—symbolizing freedom—onto this land, and the people built Mondstadt where the feather landed.
In other words, the Badminton Festival marked the founding of Mondstadt. Its significance was comparable to the Lantern Rite of Liyue.
One could also gauge the importance of this festival from another angle—the entire city was given a fifteen-day holiday to celebrate.
Fifteen days… fifteen full days…
Only in Mondstadt, truly.
As Archdeacon of the Church of Favonius, Yilan naturally became extremely busy in the days leading up to such a long holiday and major celebration, needing to stay in Mondstadt to handle all sorts of affairs.
He also wanted to finish his tasks quickly so he could enjoy the festival. After all, he had promised Nahida he would take her to the Badminton Festival.
Nahida… the Badminton Festival…
Nahida… badminton…
As he thought about it, Yilan couldn't help but smile gently, the corners of his mouth lifting in a soft, paternal expression.
He walked back from the window to his desk and sat down to begin the day's work.
Although the Church of Favonius was a religious institution, its duties in Mondstadt were not limited to spiritual guidance. In fact, its responsibilities were akin to the shrine caretakers of Inazuma—managing festivals and various aspects of civil life.
However, being one of the two major institutions in Mondstadt, the Church of Favonius held much broader authority than any shrine in Inazuma.
For instance, the Badminton Festival was almost entirely organized by the Church. The Knights of Favonius were only responsible for maintaining public order and security during the event.
Of course, unlike Jean, Yilan did not burden himself with every single task.
He delegated responsibilities efficiently, focusing only on the overall direction and handling particularly complex matters. Routine work was left to his subordinates. As a result, he wasn't overwhelmed.
More importantly, he had Rukkhadevata's help within his consciousness space.
As his most capable and virtuous wife, Rukkhadevata was skilled in managing administrative duties. With the two of them working in tandem, they finished the day's workload in little time.
Then, using gentle words and the excuse of sharing wisdom, he coaxed his innocent wife into sitting on his lap.
While enjoying the close warmth of the Sage Queen's graceful figure, he whispered secrets and exchanged knowledge intimately.
"Knock, knock, knock!"
At that moment, there was a knock on the office door.
Rukkhadevata quickly hid in Yilan's consciousness space. He straightened his clothes and called out:
"Come in."
A Knight of Favonius entered, saluted, and said, "Lord Yilan, Acting Grand Master Jean requests your presence. She wishes to discuss an urgent matter."
"All right, understood," Yilan replied with a nod.
When he arrived at the Grand Master's office, he pushed the door open and found many familiar faces already present.
"Kaeya, Lisa, Amber… even Master Diluc is here. It seems something truly serious has happened," Yilan remarked with a smile, greeting everyone.
"Yilan, you're here," Jean acknowledged him, then continued in a slightly tired voice:
"Today, Snezhnaya sent a diplomatic communiqué. First, they questioned the disappearance of their researchers within Mondstadt's territory. Then, they announced that one of the Fatui Harbingers—the Doctor—will soon arrive to investigate…"
"As the second-ranked Harbinger, Dottore is extraordinarily dangerous."
Pfft!
Jean paused and looked at Yilan, puzzled. "Yilan, what's the matter?"
"Ah, nothing," Yilan waved it off. "Just remembered something funny. Please continue."
Jean nodded and went on, "As I was saying, the Doctor is one of the most dangerous members of the Fatui. The peace treaty between Mondstadt and Snezhnaya was signed only after he personally slew the dragon Ursa the Drake."
"I suspect this visit isn't just about the missing researchers—he may also attempt to claim the child we protected."
Diluc folded his arms and scoffed, "So, this is how the Knights protect Mondstadt's people… handing over innocent children to butchers?"
Jean offered a bitter smile. "Master Diluc, now is not the time to point fingers. What matters is how we deal with the Doctor's impending arrival."
Kaeya rested a hand on his chin. "During the Ursa incident, we suspected Dottore orchestrated the entire event himself. We should prepare for similar schemes."
Lisa's expression darkened. "When I was with Sumeru Academia, I heard unsettling things about the Doctor. He's cunning and ruthless—very difficult to handle…"
Everyone began offering their thoughts, but even figures as sharp as Diluc wore grave expressions, unable to devise an effective countermeasure quickly.
—Such was the tragedy of a weak nation.
In the comic's storyline, the Doctor didn't even act personally. He simply sent a subordinate—transformed into a monster—to cause chaos in Mondstadt. It took everything Jean and Amber had just to subdue it.
Yilan sighed.
He wasn't planning to waste time here.
From what he knew, the segment of Dottore heading to Mondstadt this time—"Slice"—wasn't particularly powerful. At best, he was on par with a lesser god, perhaps not even that.
But in Yilan's current eyes, even a lesser god was nothing more than a slightly stronger ant.
To deal with ants, one only needed to step.
So he simply said:
"There's a simple solution to all of this."
As the room fell silent, he continued calmly:
"So long as he never sets foot on Mondstadt soil—problem solved."
***
Mondstadt Border
Yilan stood with his arms folded across his chest atop a towering tree that offered a broad view of the land.
During the meeting earlier that day, Yilan's proposal to "eliminate the Doctor outside Mondstadt" had been rejected by Jean.
After all, Jean was still unclear about Yilan's true strength, and as someone firmly rooted in the law-abiding and righteous camp, she found it difficult to authorize an assassination on foreign soil—even if the target was someone like the Doctor, who approached with clear malice.
But to Yilan, if something felt right, he would do it. Jean's reaction afterward was not his concern.
He had no intention of waiting for the Doctor to enter Mondstadt and then engaging him in a strategic battle of wits and courage, as the original plot once described.
That kind of thinking was for the weak.
The weak followed rules. The strong made them.
"I didn't expect the Tsaritsa to take a step so doomed to fail," said the former Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, the Great Compassion Tree King, with a faint sigh after listening to Yilan's summary of the Fatui's recent actions.
"Oh? Why do you say the Tsaritsa is destined to fail?" Yilan asked with mild interest.
From a player's perspective, he, too, believed Snezhnaya would ultimately fail.
Don't be fooled by the flashy presence of the Fatui Harbingers in PVs—when you thought about it, even the strongest among them, Pierro, wasn't as terrifying as Gold, or Rhinedottir.
And in most ACGN narratives, villains who act flamboyantly in the early stages tend to die miserably later.
In contrast, the Abyss Order, always keeping a low profile, appeared to be making steadily bigger moves.
Yilan speculated that the story might end with the Traveler siblings opposing one another—one wielding the elemental power of the world of light, the other drawing on the abyssal power of darkness.
And perhaps, with the support of many beings across Teyvat—the power of humanity—they would combine the three forces and break the laws of the divine. That, he thought, would be the wisest ending.
But that was just his own guess. What truly intrigued him now was why Rukkhadevata believed the Tsaritsa's plan was inherently doomed.
After a moment of silence, her voice echoed in his mind, distant and wistful, like an ancient memory:
"I once had two close friends. One was the Scarlet King who ruled the desert, and the other was the Goddess of Flowers.
Among them, the Goddess of Flowers came from Celestia—a spirit punished by the Heavenly Principles and banished to the mortal realm.
She and the Scarlet King once dreamed of building a new future for humankind. But in the end, they failed.
When the apocalypse came, she told me: 'The so-called gods have always been superfluous to humanity. If anyone can save this world, it must be a mortal born of this world.'
In the distant past, the heavens laid down laws for this world. These divine laws were sacred and immutable. Even we, the gods, could only bow to the will of Celestia—Valina, the spirit of the heavens.
We were forbidden from arrogance, deception, or reckless ambition. To imitate forbidden arts was to invite disaster and ruin at the edge of wisdom.
That's why I said the Tsaritsa's rebellion is fated to fail. She seeks to use the power of the gods—the Gnoses—to challenge Celestia. Her path was flawed from the very beginning."
"I see."
Although some of the ancient terminology made Yilan's head spin, he understood her meaning clearly enough:
"Only mortals can ultimately overthrow Celestia."
Rukkhadevata's tone grew warm, even excited.
"So, Yilan, can you understand how thrilled I am to meet you?
I am the steward of yesterday and the sentinel of tomorrow, yet I have never encountered a human like you.
You carry infinite possibilities, untethered even by fate. You may be the key to unraveling the lies of the divine.
For that reason, I will devote all my wisdom to guide you."
Yilan rubbed his nose and replied sheepishly, "Rukkhadevata, I feel a little shy hearing all this.
But since you've said it… for the sake of our long-term plans, how about we do something fun right now?"
"… …"
Rukkhadevata fell silent.
The one she now depended on was flawless—but perhaps a little too enthusiastic in that regard.
Of course, she didn't see this as a flaw.
People in different positions have different priorities. Just like how ancient emperors sought many heirs, which their ministers considered a virtue.
With a holy appearance reminiscent of an angel and a kind, noble heart, Rukkhadevata didn't mind indulging in such things with Yilan.
In her view, desire was a part of nature's laws—as long as one remained faithful and not promiscuous, there was no shame in it.
Still, they didn't end up engaging in any fierce battle in the wild.
Because shortly after Yilan spoke, a massive convoy flying the Snezhnayan flag slowly rolled into view across the horizon.
"Finally, after all this waiting."
Yilan stretched and leapt down from the tree. He smiled inwardly and said,
"O most holy and merciful Lord of Grass, would you mind accompanying me to kill someone?"
Rukkhadevata's voice rang out like wind chimes in his mind:
"The current Dendro Archon is Nahida. I am just your wife now.
So as long as you believe it's the right thing to do, go ahead. Even if the path leads to the abyss, I'll walk it with you."
"I feel much more at ease when you say things like that."
Yilan walked toward the approaching convoy at a steady pace.
The setting sun bathed his crimson clerical robes in gold, giving him a holy aura—like a divine emissary come to judge the wicked.
"Hey! You! You're blocking the road! Move it or I'll smash you with my hammer!"
The one who noticed him first was the Thunderhammer mercenary leading the convoy.
Yilan's presence was unusual—he moved slowly and wore a red robe that exuded an imposing air.
But as the saying goes, dogs bark loudest when their master is near.
So even though the mercenary instinctively felt Yilan was no ordinary man, he showed no fear.
Instead, he puffed out his chest and threatened him arrogantly.
"Excuse me," Yilan said with a smile, "is this the convoy escorting the Fatui Harbinger known as the Doctor?"
"You know it is, so why aren't you out of our way already?!" the mercenary barked.
"Well, since there's no mistake—there's no need for mercy."
As those words left Yilan's lips, an overwhelming pressure descended upon the area—like a meteor crashing down from the heavens.
The suffocating force made it hard to breathe.
Sensing danger, the Fatui operatives drew their weapons in unison—over a hundred strong.
Though they could tell Yilan was no ordinary opponent, their arrogance persisted.
After all, they had the second-ranked Harbinger, Dottore, backing them—and they held a clear numerical advantage.
"Brat, do you have any idea who you're messing with?! Challenging the Fatui is the worst mistake you'll ever make!"
"Now that you've said that," Yilan replied calmly, "I'm genuinely looking forward to it."
He continued walking forward, his expression unchanged.
"My name is Yilan. I hope your threats aren't just empty words—show me everything you've got."
Something within him shifted.
In the unseen space of his consciousness, Rukkhadevata's soul fused completely with his own.
When he previously faced the Doctor's strongest clone, Yilan had partially merged with the soul of the Sniper, ascending beyond mortal limits.
Now, Rukkhadevata—once the wisest and most radiant god of Sumeru—had entrusted everything to him, without hesitation.
Perhaps Yilan's physical form still ranked among the lower demon gods.
But his soul—his spirit—had already surpassed divinity.
His eyes, now shaped like crosses, gleamed with terrifying clarity.
He took a single step forward.
"Then I shall annihilate every last one of you."
***
Isn't the doctor dead…? Or did Yilan only kill his strongest clone? 🤨