The one who uses this heavy, edgeless two-handed greatsword knows this well:

It matters not what the weapon is, for it is the wielder's might that counts.

He would often mention the experiences that he had in his youth as an adventurer.

They were always the same old long-winded, annoying tall tales.

But this old greatsword seems to silently say,

"Well, it is a bit over the top, yes. But I was there too, you know."

Legend says that after slaying the venomous dragon,

The famed hero bathed in its blood, for he desired invulnerability.

Sure enough, he became untouchable.

Be it swords, be it spears, or be it rain of arrows,

He laughed and shrugged them off.

Eventually, his foes learned:

He had borne his prized greatsword on his back as he bathed

And now, his back bore a great weak spot, the very shape and size of that sword.

A persuasive tool, sure to turn the tide of a heated argument in the wielder's favor. Guaranteed to add weight to one's words.

Useful in any argument, no matter who the opponent, to convince them to listen to reason.

In short, people listen to pearls of wisdom.

Ultimately, production was forcibly ended due to mass protests. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.

When the young Arundolyn swung his replica greatsword — modeled off the one wielded by Ravenwood, the Knight of Boreas — imagining that he was cutting the old nobles of Mondstadt down, he never envisaged that he would one day become the renowned "Lion of Light." Nor did he envisage that his playmate Rostam, with whom he sparred in their childhood, would grow up to become his most trusted right-hand man, before going on to die in the course of duty, having served the people of Mondstadt for 23 years.

The replica of the Lion of Light's greatsword is now in the hands of another youngster.

How will this mysterious fate be passed on?

Feeling defeated, it dawned on the Skyrider that there are things that swordsmanship cannot achieve.

So instead of believing in his swordsmanship, he turned to the sword itself.

"Bigger is always better, and swords are no exception," he thought.

In the grand Guyun Stone Forest, he embraced his grand ending.

His dream of flight came to an end, but his sword and story would never fade...

A lightweight greatsword made of white iron with a silver sheen. When swung rapidly, the flashes of light can blind the enemy. However, this sword is not usually used as a weapon.

According to the way of warriors of old, when a comrade falls in battle, polished weapons will line the ground where they fell. Though such rituals as these are no longer in fashion, some few still remember what they mean...

This blade was once used by a mighty general of Watatsumi.

It is said that he only knew as much of swordsmanship as the "Getsumouun" and "Yuushio" styles he taught himself,

And yet by their grace was he never vanquished by any mortal in a duel or on the field of battle.

It is often said that snakes and fish are both cold-blooded. But cold-blooded creatures ever seek the promised land of warmth.

To see his people's dreams fulfilled, Omikami challenged the gathering storm clouds to war.

Amongst the people of Watatsumi bent upon conquest, a young man stood out from the rest.

His fearless valor won him great love in Watatsumi, and they named him Touzannou.

But after many years passed, his kingly name was forgotten, only to be replaced by the epithet by which his foes knew him:

"Akuou," the wicked fangs and claws of the Great Serpent, the savage, demonic invader of Yashiori Island...

The slaughter had hardened the young man into a warrior. But to him,

Only the wish he made before departing, a wish made upon the moon reflected in the waters beside the shrine, was eternal.

"One day, I shall set myself above Mt. Yougou, overlooking the palace of the Lord of Thunder."

"I will have a joyful showdown against the legendary Great Tengu of Yougou upon the roof of Tenshukaku."

"...And then I'll bring that tengu's mask back to Ayame and Mouun as a souvenir!"

At last, the tides washed all their dreams away like towers in the sand.

The tengu's mask, shining like a crimson star, was shattered like seashore gravel amidst the chaotic battle,

Nor would the shrine maiden who shone like moonlight into the young man's soul ever return again,

While the Akuou himself would face the blinding ray of lightning alongside the Great Serpent.

A broadsword wrought from rare blackcliff. Weighty as a boulder, it has enough brute force to carve its way through a mountain.

The blade is forged from a combination of blackcliff crystal and a crimson ore. It is pitch black like a pool of ink, with red flames leaping from within.

Blackcliff weaponry has its roots in the ancient "prototype" series. Blackcliff blades possess three distinguishing features: hard as bedrock, shimmer like ice, fierce as the blood that gives us life.

Though the Slasher is a broadsword, it has a uniquely sharp blade, barely thicker than a thread of silk.

The join between the red and black crystals is seamless, and each blade segment interlocks perfectly with the next to form a single cohesive body.

With the flame motif and red jade stones that adorn the hilt, the sword has a dark and foreboding presence when viewed from afar, like bright-red blood oozing from a bottomless pit of black ink.

Master craftsman Han Wu once embarked on a quest to find the finest ore with which to cast a blackcliff blade. He searched everywhere, until he became involved in a mining accident.

While trapped in the cave, his eyes perceived nothing but an all-engulfing and profoundly disorienting darkness. His ears rang with the thunderous crashing of rocks, as if the foundations of the world itself were caving in.

In the aftermath of this ordeal, the craftsman's furnace lay unused. Where flames had once burned bright, frigid dust now gathered as the forgotten fantasies of the forge dwindled and died.

Han Wu's son, Han Ce, read that the earth's core had been sealed off due to a monster infestation, and rushed to inform his father.

Han Wu was racked with guilt upon hearing the news. He was certain that it was his trip into the mine that had disturbed the dragon from underground and the meteorite from the heavens.

He forced himself up from his sickbed, lit the fires of the furnace once more and forged a mighty broadsword.

When it was ready, Han Ce took the sword into the mine shaft.

There, on instructions from his father, he erected a shrine as tall as himself and placed the sword inside to ward off evil and rebuke the dragon.

Han Wu died peacefully in his sleep several years later.

At the moment of Han Wu's death, a traveler passing by the mine shaft at Mt. Tianheng saw a crimson light shining out from somewhere within the rocks. As the traveler watched on, a hidden shrine appeared and slowly opened.

The broadsword inside the shrine shone faintly, as if weeping with bereavement.

Han Ce went into the mountains that very night to retrieve the blade.

The Tianshu of that age personally engraved an inscription upon the blade:

"Carves open mountains and tears through the seas, shreds apart clouds and splits the moon."

A heavy ceremonial sword of the Knights of Favonius. It is usually only issued after the approval of both the Grand Master and the Church.

The craftsmen in Mondstadt have achieved some results in elemental affinity by studying the ancient artifacts of Mondstadt.

This heavy greatsword is not only an honor bestowed upon a Knight of Favonius, but also the fruit of the hard work and skills of the guardians of Mondstadt.

It can channel elemental power with ease. Its bearer would do well to remember that destruction is but a means to an end, the end being to defend that which must be defended.

Only a single-handed form of Rostam the Wolf Pup's Favonius Bladework survives today.

Another form has been lost to history: that of Arundolyn, the Lion of Light, who could wield both a longsword and greatsword together in battle.

Because of the great strength needed, only those gifted with extraordinary strength could attempt this form. Thus, it soon died out.

Close companions growing up, Arundolyn was from a long line of knights while Rostam was born to a peasant family.

Their childhood friendship was forged from a shared dream of heroism. As young men, they became fellow knights; as mature adults, one became Grand Master and the other his assistant.

Grand Master Arundolyn was no Vision bearer. His formidable strength came from a mixture of natural gifts and intense training.

The Grand Master's strength was his pride, and the Grand Master was the pride of the Knights — nay, the pride of all in Mondstadt.

After Rostam met his fate, Arundolyn never displayed his strength again. For no longer was it a source of glory to challenge ferocious monsters.

A nagamaki sword designed by one of Tatarasuna's inspectors.

It is said that the diagram is as simple and upright as that inspector was.

For a long time, before the introduction of the outlander technology that helped build the Mikage Furnace,

Tatarasuna smelted iron using the traditional "Tatara Metalworking Method."

After Mikoshi Nagamasa became the inspector, he was for a time obsessed with the grim loveliness of steel.

He thus consulted the similarly inclined Armory Officer Miyazaki for advice,

With the result being this tough and simple sword, the Daitatara Nagamasa.

Although he was only the foster son of the Mikoshi Clan, and although his foster mother had stained the reputation of the Mikoshi,

And even though Mikoshi's only legitimate heir, Doukei, abandoned him and disappeared,

His self-admitted stupidity and loyalty led him to cherish the Mikoshi name all the more.

He strove to enter the government and got rid of the family's bad reputation with his diligence and righteousness.

When his yoriki Katsuragi was connected with but a single trace of misconduct, he had him executed without mercy.

Ever since then, the name of the sword and his title were changed forever.

A weapon favored by the Milileth of yore. Carved from the divine bedrock upon which Liyue Harbor was established, it is incomparably heavy. No ordinary human could lift this blade, let alone wield it in battle. And yet records state that the Millelith of old could use it with ease.

The Millelith was an organization first founded on the initiative of the followers of Rex Lapis. Its history can be traced to when the port city was first completed. Under Rex Lapis' and Liyue's banner they march, and will never desert it, whether in advance or retreat. "While rock stays hard, the mountain shall never fail; while the Millelith stands guard, evil shall never prevail." The Millelith warriors adhere without fail to this code, and for it they would die without regrets.

They follow in Rex Lapis' footsteps to the best of their ability, slaying monsters, protecting the citizenry, and keeping the peace in Liyue. The Millelith made its name not in slaughter but in defense, using their own bodies to shield their homeland.

This greatsword of unmatched weight and hardness mirrors the duty and the will of Liyue's guardians. Xing and Han, the two members of this armed force who first carved stone into swords, must have known in their hearts, That in the future, those who had the strength to use these stone swords would grow few. But this also meant that the world would be at peace, and neither guardians nor swords would be needed anymore.

As the nights deepen, the pulsing of its gills translates as such:

"Well now, I was undoubtedly dead when I left the sea."

"My heart ceased to beat, the whites of my eyes showed, I gave off a rank stench-".

"I mean, for a fish, this had to be death, right?"

"Now, these old bones were the strongest among all mackerel."

"I was also once the strongest being in all the shallow seas,"

"And even sea beasts, whales, and sharks were no match for my might."

"And yet, even I would meet my match!"

"It was that kurage, or perhaps you might call them the jellyfish."

"Why, they just float along with the tide,"

"And yet, they can deflect any and all impacts."

"So then did I forsake the path of strength,"

"Taking up the path of the jellyfish."

"After a long, long life,"

"I became able to control every organ in my body."

"So I stopped my own heart,"

"And was not mistaken for fresh fish and sliced open."

"You may think that I am naught but a salted fish, 'tis true,"

"But allow me to become your strength."

"Now then, you who wield this old one."

"Hmm..."

"When all the waters flow into the sea,"

"When the final stars go out,"

"When everything returns to the primordial ocean whence they came,"

"Would you try yourself against me?"

An ancient prototype greatsword from Liyue's arsenal. The batch number has faded and no records exist to confirm the date of production.

Weighing in at close to forty pounds, this weapon's hilt is made from a rare ore, while the blade is forged from the finest steel. All you will see when it is swung are blinding flashes of light, powerful enough to devour the clouds and blot out the moon.

After the great disaster, the Yun family forge joined forces with the master craftsman Han Wu to find a way to push past the constraints of contemporary blade design and revolutionize their craft.

Thus was born a new series of weapon models, simply named "the prototypes." The first greatsword built using the new design was unusually understated in its final appearance. The underwhelming sight of dull, blotchy gold masked the weapon's true strength. While not much to look at, any who cared to try it would discover that it was weighty but not unwieldy.

Han Wu, the master craftsman who forged the weapon, traveled north through the night to hand the sword over to a martial artist who followed the chivalric code.

The martial artist inspected the blade closely before trialing it. The blade howled like the wind and in an instant decimated the entire bamboo forest. It was a rare sight to behold.

The martial artist said to Han Wu, "This blade is endowed with the elegance of antiquity. It is of equal value both as a weapon and an ornament."

"Such a fine creation possessed of both scale and subtlety is worthy of a name like no other. May it be known as Archaic."

Due to its unparalleled strength, this sword subsequently became the model for thousands of greatswords in Liyue.

A dimly fluorescent greatsword with no sharp edge.

Years ago it was known as the "Beacon of the Nether" by the mountain bandits.

Seeing it meant there was no way back.

The only way was forward, towards the end of one's life.

"Formless, like the rain that cuts through rain. Weightless, like the light that pierces light."

"Untouchable, moving like a snake. Inescapable, as sword's stare and polearm's glance."

The Rainslasher was named out of reverence for its master. Originally it had no name.

The blade's first and final master was a martial nomad who went by the name of Guhua.

It is said that he was an adeptus. While Guhua lived, bandits dared not act and the wilderness knew a peace like that of the city.

Allegedly, at the end of his journey he ascended in a purple haze and became a star.

One to whom Guhua had shown kindness founded what is now known as the Guhua School in his honor. But no school is destined to last forever.

A greatsword once used by nobles who ruled over Mondstadt. It was made using premium materials and masterful craftsmanship.

For that reason, even after being passed down for generations, it is still as good as new.

Combat was once a responsibility of the nobles.

They protected their people from monsters that threatened peace and stability.

Unfortunately, they all but forgot their responsibilities, which turned them into the very monsters they once sought to destroy.

Research suggests that gladiatorial combat originated in a religious context during the rule of the Aristocracy.

Now outlawed by the Knights of Favonius, it began as a sacrificial ceremony held jointly with prayers to the gods.

Though the practice was later turned into a perverted sport for the Lawrence Clan's pleasure, and subsequently abolished by the Knights,

Some texts of the original prayers still remain.

"O guardian winds of Mondstadt. Look after me, my friends, my countrymen, and my opponent. May the sound of clashing blades delight you, and may the offering of sweat and blood please you."

"O winds that guide my path. When I'm exhausted, bless me with the strength to keep going forward. When I'm uncertain, bless me with the wisdom to distinguish good from evil."

On the cliff facing the eastern sea, the ancestors worshiped the masters of Time and Anemo together.

The two are intimately related, as expressed in the saying, "Anemo brings stories while Time nurtures them."

The sword tells a story of war, and was used in the enactment of war tales.

Originally just a prop, its blade has been hardened by the passage of time.

This sword once belonged to the Imunlaukr clan, a clan of brave and gifted warriors who fought hard and died young.

In sacrificial ceremonies, they would enact duels between brave warriors stained black with blood.

In the eyes of the Imunlaukr clan, combat existed not for protection, for glory, or for gaining territory.

Rather, it was for the amusement of the gods, high up in the heavens, for whom little else could serve to entertain.

Monsters and outlaws, they fought them all the same, with no regard for whether, this time, they would return to their beloveds afterwards.

For none of that mattered. What mattered was to roar, loud and clear, in the heat of bloody battle. That was duty fulfilled.

Such hot blood running through the veins should not have been conducive to a long history for the Imunlaukr clan.

For their fight was one without end, and without hope of victory.

And yet, as the snow slowly melted and Mondstadt began to take shape, gradually they realized: They had found something to fight for at last.

A greatsword fashioned from the spine of a great sea monster, each eerie segment of bone a tale unto itself.

In the past, seamen would use the bones of such monsters as figureheads,

And with them frighten the beasts who dwelt in the deep sea, and who envied the land—dwellers.

In the stormy oceans of the ancient past, those who put out to sea would often never be seen again.

The carefree sea shanties of today were, in years long gone, farewell songs that left people in mournful silence.

There was a greatsword-wielding captain in those days who enjoyed drinking and making merry before a voyage. When people questioned him, he laughed and said:

"I know myself. What is wine and song to me? Worry not. Once the sea and winds are right..."

But he would never finish that statement. He would only raise his mug, and call for all around to have another drink.

Then, the day when the sea and winds came together arrived at last, and the stern of the great vessel rode them as it sailed.

Deep into the misty sea it went, far across the darkening waves, into the ocean that teemed with sea creatures.

And at last, neither the singing skipper nor his ship would ever return to the harbor ringed by mountains.

After many days, the corpse of a sea monster from the deep was beached upon the shore by the waves.

Brilliant white bone shone out from a great gash torn into it by a greatsword. Its blood had long been washed clean.

"When the sea and winds are right, I will go forth to sea and avenge her. O maiden charmed by the tidal song."

"So what if I sleep with the fishes? That way, I will be able to send my sea shanties into the deep where she dwells."

Today, the seas are no longer plagued by giant creatures that emerge from the storm and rain down devastation upon the waves.

The practice of mounting skeletons of sea monsters onto the bows of ships has also been lost with their extinction.

But when one sails far abroad, sometimes one can still hear the spine-chilling sound of thunder rumbling in the depths…

When the verdant city was sealed by cloud and mist,

When the unending snowstorms blotted out the clear moonlight,

When all life and every interrupted story,

Was pierced by that nail that fell from the azure skies...

The priest's daughter gave the Starsilver greatsword to the hero from another land,

In the howling wind and snow, her words could not reach their intended target.

"This fourth fresco is prepared for you. Your likeness will forever remain on this wall."

"For the sake of that fresco, and for everyone, I will wait for you, and pray for your return..."

When the daughter of that snow-entombed city withered together with the grafted yet barren silver branches,

The outlander destined to wield this sword to shatter ice and snow alike was far afield, chasing answers.

Bright as the moonlight though she was, her final words, too, would never reach that wayfarer.

"It's been a while since I last saw the blue sky and green grass. I don't know which hues to use to capture the landscape of thawing ice and snow that my father so longs for."

"I wish I could see you again..."

This was the answer he found-

The hero ended his fruitless journey at last.

Tainted black blood dripped from the blade of his greatsword,

As he trudged through now-foreign snowy paths.

But when he returned to the great hall of that mountain country,

Naught but ringing deathly echoes welcomed him.

"So even here, there is nothing left for me to protect..."

"You who dwell in the heavens, you must wish for naught but to watch our ashen suffering here below."

"In that case, then let me help you pass the time with a song of iron and blood."

The outlander left the Starsilver originally meant to shatter snow and wind alike between the frescoes.

Then, he descended the mountain to search for a land full of war and strife - a place he might paint red with blood.

A strange greatsword decorated with an exquisite clock.

The distinctive sound of clockwork served as a combat rhythm for the wielder and their friends.

After the Wanderer's Troupe disbanded, the greatsword was soaked in acid. The gears have rusted because of this.

Even so, it still makes a lethal weapon.

One by the name of Kreuzlied traveled with the Wanderer's Troupe. Once a member of the ruling Lawrence clan, now a traitor and outcast.

In that time, scholars and bards paid no heed to history. For the Aristocracy preferred to remain willfully ignorant of their own moral degeneracy than face history's judgement.

But the aristocrats trembled in fear at the sound of this blade as it flew through the air, for it was the toll of the bell of judgment.

It was not made public what punishment Kreuzlied met with after the failed uprising. This in itself is a testament to his privileged origins.

Legend says that after being dismissed from office, his desire to continue the legacy of his fellow rebels led him to establish a secret society aimed at bringing down the Aristocracy.

It is also said that he gave his full assistance to the enslaved gladiator when she revolted.

In the past, a popular rumor was that Kreuzlied's secret society was working constantly in the background,

Helping the Knights of Favonius keep Mondstadt safe through deeds that no knight should ever be party to.

It was even said that the Wolf Pup Rostam ran this organization in secret, behind the Grand Master's back.

The whole world flocks to the commercial port of Liyue, much to the city's pride.

With the tides of people also come exotic treasure.

This greatsword is expertly made with the finest materials. It is unique in that the edge closest to the wielder has been left dull. The dull edge is said to have been used as the hilt, enabling the wielder to switch forms by constantly shifting hand positions in combat.

Though it is rarely acknowledged, this greatsword was in fact a foreign bladesmith's labor of love.

The bladesmith knew himself to be dull of wits, and was anxious that this blade should not follow suit. Hence, he worked painstakingly on sharpening and balancing his beloved blade. Sparks flew as the bladesmith worked through many sleepless nights.

The sword was recast and re-tempered countless times. All the while his mind was consumed with the hope of his lover's return, as well as his untold anxiety for her well-being.

"After the war is over..."

The bladesmith would ponder briefly, each time he paused for breath.

"Will this blade still be of use to her?"

"Will she even make it home safely?"

These thoughts would linger in his mind for but a moment before he cast them aside and refocused his full attention on the blade. Indulging irresolvable anxieties was a futile endeavor - better to focus his faculties on creating the perfect welcome-home gift.

Finally, the day came when the triumphant expeditionary force entered the city gates, their monstrous foes defeated at last. But the bladesmith had not had time to carve his lover's name onto the blade's body.

With no time to lose, he grabbed the sword and rushed to meet his lover on the occasion of her return.

Unfortunately, what would transpire next was to be an unbearable anticlimax.

As the warrior removed her helmet, long, soft hair flowed down. She was growing her hair out, and hence would never need to wield a blade again for the rest of her days.

Meanwhile, she had brought her lover a gift, too: A shiny new hunting bow.

"Romance is dead! I wasted all these years making you this greatsword, and now you don't even need it!"

The bladesmith was thoroughly miserable and would not stop complaining about the unfairness of it all. But his efforts had by no means been in vain—at least he had finally succeeded in making a blade of the very finest quality.

The full name of this weapon is the "Mighty Redhorn Stoic Stonethreshing Lion Lord",

And it was once the beloved blade of an eccentric known as the "Otogi Kongou Lion King."

...But since both names were verbally vobose,

The children named the weapon the Redhorn Pestle and its wielder the "Otogi King."

The Redhorn Pestle was a weapon made from an enchanted monster's horn,

And bake-kitsune, bake-danuki, and evil demons alike would all have to beg for mercy before its bite.

Even Reizenbou, Great Tengu of Mt. Yougou,

Feared the ominous power of the Pestle, and would not come forth to face the Lion King!

...Of course, the children never believed such tales.

Still, the Otogi King truly was very strong. Even seven men together could not push him out of a dohyou.

And when he saw children hankering after fruit they could not reach, he would kick the tree and send the melons plummeting down.

That said, he did once kick the whole tree down, and was chased into the mountains by an old man.

He also once bought the children to crash an official autumn leaf-watching concert,

Crying in a loud voice "The Otogi Kongou Lion King is here. Demons beware!"

He then wrestled with the petite oni who just happened to be in the mood for a tussle... The results were too tragic to watch.

But if this was all the King had, to the point where he was never given the right to wear the Shogun's colors,

How could he, the children said, possibly bring those youkai of song to heel?

"Hah! I was just suffering from the chills after a long night of drinking, that's all!"

Even as the Otogi King made his excuses, he did not forget to laugh heartily.

Was he just shameless, or did he really believe that he could win?

No one could say...

"This time, I'll definitely cut off the horns of those monsters."

"And bring them back for ya. That'll show you the might of the Otogi Kongou Lion King!"

"Those creatures from beyond the ocean? Pfft! Easy pickings, I tell ya!"

"So yeah, shoo, shoo, follow the fox envoy to go hide in a corner and stuff."

"I'll swing by later. We'll have ourselves a few wrestling bouts then, eh?"

Even as he said that, the children remembered how the dainty oni had huffed softly,

Hurling the roaring, onrushing Otogi King into the sky...

Later, the oni who had wrestled with the Otogi King would flee after having her arm and horn cut off,

While the Great Tengu would no longer appear before humans, living in hermitage in the mountains and woods.

And so, the empty boasts behind this greatsword came true in the end,

Though the wandering, eccentric Otogi Kongou Lion King himself never returned again.

Even later on, the Lavender Melon tree that he kicked down would, with careful tending, once again bear fruit.

This is a tale of sky-shaking valor.

Even the vile dragon brought into the world by a sinner of that ancient abyssal nation.

Lost dark, metallic wings to Anemo's pride and joy.

Long ago, the shadow dragon Durin terrorized Mondstadt, driven by jealousy for the city's glory.

Awoken from his sylvan slumber by the cries of Durin's victims,

The Anemo Archon came forth and summoned his faithful servant to his side.

For life and for freedom, the Archon and the Wind Dragon rode the wind to face their foe.

In a battle that ripped clouds from the skies, Dvalin spread his six blessed wings wide,

Severing the sky and tearing through Durin's iron scales with the force of a colossal blade.

As the conflict plunged the world into darkness, the Wind Dragon struck out with his claws, like swords forged of wind.

They pierced deep into Durin's dark, corrupt flesh.

The battle shook the heavens, even the sun quaked with fear.

Finally, Dvalin tore out Durin's throat with his teeth, and the evil dragon fell from the sky.

With his god's blessing, the Wind Dragon seized victory and saved the people of Mondstadt.

Yet Dvalin became poisoned by tainted blood he had consumed, and corruption seeped into his bones.

Though a hero, Dvalin was forced to suffer in solitude, while the stench of corruption drew creatures of evil to his side.

Deceived by the Abyss, the Wind Dragon fell to evil, and Stormterror was born.

At last, his master returned to calm his frenzied mind and ease his pain.

His faithful friend and a new companion fought bravely to drive out the monsters and restore Dvalin's honor.

In the century while Dvalin slept, his image faded from Mondstadt's memory,

But in the tumultuous times of the recent past, the people bore witness to his six-winged figure once more.

Now, blessed by the Anemo Archon, serenaded by the songs of Barbatos,

Riding on the boundless winds, Dvalin takes to the skies once more.

There was once a popular folk song that went like this:

"Toss to the bard all the coins you can spare,"

"Give your bouquet to yon maiden so fair,"

"Take wine so bitter it makes the tears flow,"

"Drink to the yesterday now been and gone, and sing for tomorrow that comes with the dawn."

In the land where songs and music carry on the wind, the people have merry yet sensitive souls.

It is said that there were times in history when the tyrant Decarabian and the ruling aristocrats would ban certain chords and tunes,

For discerning people could sense the spirit of resistance that lay behind the music of the bards and singers.

Songs and hymns had also indeed been used before as a way for rebels to communicate.

In the days of the ruling aristocracy, the Church that revered the Anemo Archon was once split in twain by a schism:

On one side stood the clergy, who ate at the lords' table, and overturned the archon's statues with them even as they wrote songs and hymns of praise.

On the other stood the saints, who held no clerical office, and who walked the streets, the wine cellars, and the world beyond the walls.

These saints drank cheap moonshine, blessing the slave and the plebeian with the original holy manuscripts that circulated amongst the people and with words that the wind brought to them.

And while they did so, they penned forbidden songs and poetry.

When the gladiator from a foreign land arose together with the re-awakened Anemo Archon and raised the banner of rebellion,

The aged saint known as the Nameless Shepherd mobilized the true adherents of the Church of Favonius.

Together with many others, they spilled their martyred blood upon these emerald fields.

And together, they sang a rallying cry to save the nation, the hitherto-unsung half of that folk song of old:

"Leave the keen steel to those who will give their lives for the fight,"

"Prepare the thieves' gallows,"

"Sharpen your rusted arrows,"

"For when the music sounds, we shoot the beasts down."

A long time ago, a dragon there was to be found in Liyue.

Not a dragon that soared the skies, but one whose abode was the mountains.

Indeed, this ancient dragon of stone was as large as the very mountains it called home.

The legends say that it slumbered in Nantianmen, seeming not at all unlike the surrounding hills.

But when it awakened, even the tiniest movement, or the slightest stretch...

That would cause the earth to tremble and shake.

Then, Rex Lapis came before the dragon, seeking to stop the earth's quailing.

They say that for a long while, the land knew peace,

And that Rex Lapis gained another comrade by his side.

But in the end, the union of dragons, gods and men was perhaps not to be...

The dragon was sealed in the bowels of the earth. Fearing the ire of the gods and the adepti,

The Geovishaps, who once heeded the trembling of the rock and wrought havoc alongside the dragon,

Fled into the roots of the mountains. But as millennia passed, the dragon began to stir once again...

The legends hold that those who triumphed over the dragon stabbed this sword into the ground next to the giant tree that subdued the ancient dragon.

As one of the seals, monsters and malevolent mortals would be unable to touch it.

Indeed, if the legends are true, only those with hearts as pure as clear mirrors could even come near it.

Yet, if those legends are true, how did this sword come to be lost?

The Knight of Boreas' journey ended at the city of Barbatos.

Wandering souls attract each other, boundless freedom begets only anxiety.

Upon entering the city, the Knight of Boreas' companion bade him farewell in silence.

For the free-spirited Wolf resented the stone walls and lamplight, and yearned for the open wilds.

The Knight of Boreas' heart remained free, though his flesh was inside the prison-like city.

Meanwhile, the windborne Wolf roamed the forest in the flesh, while his heart remained loyal to the Knight.

The Knight of Boreas rode again to hunt. The Wolf followed his scent into battle.

Still one were they, the Wolf and the Knight.

Though one they were, death comes for beasts sooner than men.

Laying down his sword as a gravestone, the Knight of Boreas buried the Wolf in the remote countryside.

The Knight of Boreas then left the city behind, living instead the wandering life of a lone wolf.

Yet the eternal wolf spirit remained here,

Watching over the land the Knight once protected.