(Before Archon War)

Morax never considered himself friendly. He was serious, cruel, brutish but caring when it came to his nation.

Occasionally, he'd 'listen' to Guizhong's stories about kindness, but never planned acting on it. After all, why would he step out of his comfort zone just to get 'nothing' in return? Kindness, tenderness and gentleness was a sign of weakness. Something only mortals indulged in.

From time to time, he took on one of many forms, flying over the lands of Liyue as a dragon. Gliding through trees, bamboos, bushes and over rivers, patrolling and observing the life that he had to defend. People who put their trust in him.

Once, the scent of another dragon wafted into his sharp dragon nostrils. Something new, unknown. Something that stimulated his senses and turned him from relatively relaxed into stiff and sinister. And so he landed on the ground silently, following the scent, carefully, and ready to attack. He walked slowly until he saw that beast, so mysterious.