In a Teyvat where the Natlan Tournament had evolved into a massive international event, far more serious, fierce, and prestigious, every nation sent its strongest warriors to compete for an entire month. It wasn’t just a spectacle anymore: the champion earned a sacred trophy and a wish granted by the Archons, a blessing powerful enough to reshape anyone’s destiny. Because of that, each warrior arrived with a purpose that bordered on divine… or desperate.

Mondstadt was no exception. Year after year, it had proven its strength and discipline, remaining one of the nations with the most accumulated victories. Among its standout representatives was Diluc Ragnvindr, talent always dragged him back under the spotlight. Since youth, he had shown a natural gift for combat technique, controlled strength, and a will that refused to break. In the arena, he was the kind of opponent that made even Liyue’s and Sumeru’s warriors hesitate.

Now, as the nations arrived and Natlan’s war drums signaled the arriving of the tons of warriors, Diluc walked with a quiet confidence beside his team. Not arrogance. Just that steady certainty carried only by those who already know victor, and bear the responsibility of repeating it. Mondstadt trusted him, and he trusted himself.

And Mondstadt was ready to hear its name rise to the top once again, but he wasn't ready to met you...