The Lord of the Tower was a strange man.
He loved his people in his own way, yet he never listened to their voices, never understood their needs.
That love never helped his people—it became a burden, a source of great suffering.
Ordinary people lived in pain under his oppression.
Now, awakened to the spirit of freedom, they raised the banner of rebellion.
They would overthrow the tower, crush the tyrant, and tear down the wind wall.
They would see the wider world beyond.
At that moment, the Lord of the Tower, opposed by his own people, shattered inside.
Not only that, but having lost his people's faith, his power waned. He grew weaker.
Then, the sound of a harp drifted on the wind to his ears, along with songs of freedom echoing within and beyond the tower.
His fury grew.
He loathed that harp, loathed those frivolous songs.
His gaze fixed upon a single boy.
Leading his followers, he raised his blade against those who defied the tower.
"In the name of Decarabian, the God of Storms—"
"Crush the rebellion—"
"The tower stands eternal—"
"The god endures—"
Before the crumbling tower, the Lord of the Tower and his followers clashed with the warriors of freedom.
At his peak, as the sovereign of Old Mondstadt, he had been the most powerful god in the land.
But now, bereft of his people's faith, his power diminished, his heart shattered, the once-mighty Lord of the Tower struggled against mere human rebels.
With every clash, he grew wearier.
His body trembled.
Both his body and his inexpressive heart were exhausted.
The people he had protected now had their own will, their own dreams.
Perhaps it was time for him to rest.
Below the tower, the nameless knight raised his greatsword and challenged the Lord of the Tower.
The huntress gripped Amos' Bow, ready to strike the final blow.
Young Venti played his stirring music, lending strength to all his companions in the fight.
Barbatos used its power of wind to carry the music to every corner of the battlefield.
The human warriors fought with growing courage and strength, driving the tower's followers back step by step.
Finally, they broke through their cage.
Victory after victory, they destroyed the grand monuments they had once built and toppled the Lord of the Tower's mighty statues.
They stormed the tower, raising their blades against the Lord of the Tower himself.
For a powerful god, the attacks of ordinary humans were nothing.
But countless blades, each strike accumulating, each wound building upon the last, wore down even the mighty Lord of the Tower. He was wounded, and his wounds grew graver.
Then, the huntress with Amos' Bow set her sights on the wounded Lord of the Tower once more.
She drew an arrow, pulled Amos' Bow to its full draw, and loosed the final shot toward his heart.
The arrow flew swift and true.
Even the Lord of the Tower, broken in heart and diminished in power, could not evade.
Before the eyes of all, the thousand winds scattered.
The sharp arrow struck the once-unassailable Lord of the Tower.
In that moment, all bore witness to the fall of a god.
Amid the smoke and dust, they saw the tyrant fall.
As the Lord of the Tower collapsed, the great tower crumbled completely.
The towering walls shattered piece by piece.
The raging storms slowly dissipated.
Above, the gray sky tore open. For the first time, people saw the true blue sky.
In that moment, everyone stood frozen.
It was true.
The sky was truly blue.
Immaculate.
Young Venti clutched his harp, gazing at the blue sky he had always dreamed of, looking out at the vast world beyond the fallen walls.
His heart was filled with longing, with anticipation.
In that moment, Venti knew that by stepping over the ruins of the broken walls and by passing through the now-stilled storms, he could touch freedom.
"Barbatos—"
"We did it."
A genuine smile touched Venti's lips.
Through the glimpse of the world before him, he imagined the beauty beyond.
But he did not see what no one else saw.
As the Lord of the Tower fell, a figure on the battlefield picked up a discarded bow and aimed it at Venti.
He drew. He loosed.
The arrow flew with a shriek like a Thunderbird, racing toward Venti.
The sudden turn shocked everyone present.
"Venti, move!"
"Arrow! Arrow!"
"No!"
By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late.
Even the mighty nameless knight and the huntress with Amos' Bow could only watch, powerless.
They screamed, hoping Venti could dodge.
But this was no ordinary arrow—it was loosed by the Lord of the Tower himself, carrying elemental power, shrieking like a Thunderbird.
There was no time to evade.
In that critical moment, Barbatos saw the arrow.
As it had before, it threw itself before the boy, using its body—still without physical form—to shield him, summoning a wall of wind to block the arrow.
Barbatos had not yet seen the outside world with Venti.
Barbatos had not yet shown Venti the surprise of its physical form.
Barbatos did not want Venti to die.
It would protect Venti.
Against an ordinary arrow, the wall of wind Barbatos summoned would have protected Venti.
But this arrow was imbued with the power of a god.
The moment it touched the wind wall, it tore through Barbatos's wispy body, pierced through it, and with the force of thunder, struck through Venti.
In that instant, the world fell silent.
"No—"
"Venti—"
"Venti, don't die—"
All eyes turned to the boy who loved to play his harp, who sang songs of freedom.
Through his body, they saw a dark, gaping wound consuming his life.