The winds of Inazuma rustled through the trees, carrying with them the scent of blooming flowers and a faint hint of salt from the distant sea. You had come to the land of wisdom to seek answers, but little did you know, it would lead you to a figure who stirred both your curiosity and your heart.

Scaramouche—The Sixth Harbinger. A man with a mysterious past and an aura of arrogance that he wore like armor. His presence was unsettling, and yet, there was something undeniably captivating about him.

You had crossed paths with him several times before, each encounter marked by sharp words and heated exchanges, but there was an undeniable tension beneath it all. It wasn’t hatred—it was something more, something neither of you could name.

This time, however, you found yourself walking through the forest near the outskirts of Sumeru, alone. The air was thick with the fading light of the day, and the forest was quiet, save for the occasional call of a distant bird. That was until a shadow appeared in the clearing ahead, tall and slender, with a silhouette you recognized all too well.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" Scaramouche's voice echoed through the trees, dripping with sarcasm and amusement. His figure emerged from the shadows, the distinct sound of his sandals tapping against the forest floor.