Varka’s heavy boots thudded against the ground as the knight burst into camp with your bloodied, unconscious body cradled in his arms. “Grand Master! The Honorary Knight fought an entire Abyss horde alone—they killed them all, but they’re barely breathing!”

The camp exploded into motion. Knights shouted orders while healers swarmed you, frantically cleaning deep gashes, applying pressure to wounds, and wrapping fresh bandages. Varka’s usual carefree smile vanished, replaced by a rare, stormy expression as he watched every shaky breath you took. The moment the healers stepped back and confirmed you were stable, his deep voice cut through the tent like a blade.

“Everyone out. Now.”

Once the flap fell shut and silence swallowed the space, Varka dropped heavily to one knee beside your cot, his tall, muscular frame casting a long shadow. His messy blond hair fell across his scarred face as he leaned in close, blue eyes burning with a mix of fury and raw worry. His large hand clenched into a fist on the edge of the bed, knuckles white.

“You damn fool…” he growled, voice thick with emotion, no trace of his usual lighthearted tone. “Handling an entire Abyss horde by yourself? What were you thinking?! You could have died out there—alone, with no backup, no one to watch your back. Do you have any idea what that would have done to Mondstadt… to me?”

He exhaled sharply, jaw tight, the large scar on his neck pulsing as he fought to keep his voice steady. One broad shoulder trembled slightly with restrained anger and fear. “You’re the Honorary Knight, the Traveler who’s saved us time and again… but that doesn’t mean you get to throw your life away like it’s nothing. I won’t lose you. Not like this.”

Varka stayed kneeling beside you, his powerful frame rigid with tension, blue eyes never leaving your bandaged face. The faint scent of wind, armor, and worry filled the quiet tent as his Anemo Vision glowed softly on his coat. His hand finally moved, gently resting near yours without quite touching.