Hearing Smith's words, Jean became visibly embarrassed. She spoke with guilt, "It is indeed our fault to have forgotten Lord Twarin. But I don't believe that Lord Twarin would retaliate against us simply because we forgot him. I think there must be something more that we don't understand."
"Is that so?" Smith smiled noncommittally. "I do know something about Twarin's situation."
"Please, share what you know. I would be truly grateful, and I express my thanks on behalf of Mondstadt," Jean said, bowing to Smith.
Jean had already made up her mind—Mondstadt would do everything possible to resolve Twarin's predicament. She did not want to see him as an enemy but rather as an ally who had once protected Mondstadt. Killing Twarin had never even crossed her mind; after all, he had saved the city multiple times in the past.
As for why the people of Mondstadt had forgotten him, Jean had no real explanation. The truth was painful, and looking for those responsible now would accomplish nothing. Could she punish people from long ago? Dig up their graves for answers? It was too late for that. All she could do was move forward and find a way to make things right.
Smith looked at Jean intently. "To me, your gratitude means far more than Mondstadt's gratitude. After all, Mondstadt itself has a reputation for betraying those who protect it, doesn't it?"
Jean flinched but said nothing.
Smith continued, "Five hundred years ago, Twarin battled Durin to protect Mondstadt. Twarin bit into Durin's throat and killed him on Dragonspine. But in doing so, he swallowed Durin's poisonous blood. For the past five centuries, he has been suffering from the effects of that poison. Now, he is in unbearable pain. At the same time, I have to ask—when was the last time you cleaned the temples guarded by the Four Winds?"
Smith turned his gaze toward Jean, a knowing smile on his face.
Mondstadt might seem like a nice place to visit at first, but if someone wanted to settle down or start an organization like Smith's guild, it was an absolute nightmare. Drunks, lazy citizens who preached about "freedom" while doing nothing productive, and worst of all—a history of betraying those who had fought for them. That was Mondstadt in a nutshell.
"The temples..." Jean's face paled as shame overtook her. Even she had neglected to maintain the temples of the Four Winds. They had been left abandoned for who knows how long. Now, realizing that neglect could have contributed to Twarin's suffering, she felt a heavy burden on her heart.
Even if Durin's poisonous blood had not affected Twarin, he still would have been disappointed by Mondstadt's neglect.
Now, however, they had to make amends. Not just because Twarin was a follower of Barbatos, but because they needed his power. Mondstadt was weak. Their Grand Master and strongest knights were away on an expedition, and the city was struggling against internal and external threats. Some nights, Jean dreamt of Mondstadt's fall—of her failure to protect it, of becoming a villain in its history, much like the disgraced Lawrence clan.
Twarin's return had sparked hope within her. If she could heal him, he could help defend Mondstadt. Of course, if he chose to leave instead, she would respect that decision. After all, it was Mondstadt that had wronged him, not the other way around.
But she had to try.
The Fatui had already placed them under immense pressure. A city without divine protection was no match for a nation backed by a god. Even when their best warriors had been present, Mondstadt had struggled against Snezhnaya's influence. Now, with their forces scattered, they were more vulnerable than ever.
Jean sighed. Why did it seem like Mondstadt had a habit of betraying those who helped it?
"It seems we have learned something rather shocking today," Ningguang mused, amused by Jean's discomfort.
Was Mondstadt really this irresponsible? They neglected even their gods' followers?
In Liyue, immortals were revered. Even the Ruotuo Dragon King, who had gone mad and was suppressed by the Geo Archon, was still honored. Yet here was Mondstadt, abandoning its protectors as if they were disposable.
Keqing blinked, momentarily stunned. She had always been skeptical of blindly following the immortal masters, but compared to Mondstadt, she seemed almost devout.
"I apologize for Mondstadt's oversight," Jean admitted, bowing slightly. "If Twarin has been corrupted by Durin's poison, how can we help him?"
She looked to Smith, hoping for guidance.
Smith sighed. "I don't know. But you might want to ask Albedo. Since Durin was a creation of Rhinedottir, Albedo may have some insight."
Jean nodded thoughtfully, then gave Smith a grateful look. "Thank you, Smith. You will always be a highly esteemed guest in Mondstadt."
Although Smith seemed to harbor resentment toward Mondstadt, Jean was convinced it was based on misunderstandings. Sure, mistakes had been made, but Mondstadt's people weren't ungrateful. They welcomed their friends warmly.
One day, when Smith visited Mondstadt, she believed he would change his mind.
Smith chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe. But as the Acting Grand Master, you should probably spend more time tending to the Four Winds' temples rather than wasting your days helping citizens find lost cats and dogs."
Jean was taken aback. "Excuse me?"
Smith continued, "You're too focused on trivial matters. Those people you help? Most of them don't even care. You're wasting your time. As the leader of the Knights of Favonius, your role is different from that of a regular knight. You need to stop treating every minor problem as if it's your responsibility. You have an entire city to protect, yet you let yourself be dragged into menial tasks. That's arrogance, Jean."
Everyone was stunned.
Jean? Arrogant? That didn't sound right.
Through their brief interaction, she had seemed nothing but humble and kind. How could Smith accuse her of arrogance?
Did he misunderstand something?
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