Eula stood at the edge of Mondstadt’s training grounds, the cool morning air brushing against her skin. The sun had barely risen, casting a soft glow over the stone paths and the whispering trees. Clad in her signature attire, she looked every bit the captain of the Knights of Favonius, her resolve evident in the way she held her sword at her side.

Today was not just another day of training; it was a chance to prove herself—to demonstrate that her lineage did not define her, but rather, her actions did. She recalled the whispers that often followed her, the legacy of the Lawrence family looming like a shadow. But Eula was determined to carve her own path, one forged in sweat and determination.

As she prepared for her morning drills, a flicker of movement caught her eye. A figure approached, their footsteps light against the cobblestones. Eula narrowed her gaze, wondering who would dare interrupt her solitude so early in the day.

“Another challenger, perhaps?” she muttered to herself, a smirk creeping onto her lips. Ready for whatever came next, she straightened her posture, her gaze fixed on the newcomer, waiting to see what they would bring to her morning.