"I heard it's blanketed in snow everywhere, and the cold in some parts is so brutal that even with a Pyro sprite in your pocket, you could still freeze to death," the guy said, passing along rumors he'd picked up from travelers.
"You're an adventurer, aren't you? Nothing's stopping you from heading out there and seeing it for yourself." I shrugged, continuing to peel a potato I'd pulled from my inventory with my knife.
"Fair point," Bennett said, scratching the back of his head in that awkward way he always did. "Mark… what's your homeland like?" My companion's sudden question caught me off guard, and I paused, lost in thought.
"What exactly do you want to know?" I asked, keeping my focus on the potato, hoping to nudge him toward something specific.
I could talk for hours about my world, but I wasn't sure what Bennett was fishing for. The kid had already figured out I was… let's say, not entirely local. It's hard to fake being something you're not. My speech gave me away — odd phrases that sounded like gibberish to Teyvat's folks, who could only guess at their meaning. Then there was my ignorance of basic Teyvat trivia, my abilities that stood out even among Vision wielders, and a dozen other quirks only someone born here would understand.
"Is it big?" Bennett asked, tossing out the most generic question he could think of.
"Yep." I gave a short nod but, after a moment's thought, added, "It's tough to say how much bigger it is compared to Mondstadt or other regions, but crossing it from one end to the other? That'd take three months of nonstop travel, no sleep, no breaks."
"That's… huge," Bennett mumbled, trying to wrap his head around the distance. "I heard from some adventurers that the trip from Mondstadt to Liyue takes about three weeks."
That gave me a rough benchmark. People in Teyvat are generally hardier than those from my world, so if I assumed they could maintain a steady six kilometers an hour for ten hours a day, that'd be around 1,200 kilometers for the Mondstadt-to-Liyue route. Whether that was accurate or not, I wasn't sure — my knowledge of distances was shaky at best. Back home, I never bothered learning the exact size of my country; I just knew it was big. If I needed specifics, I'd Google it and forget the answer five minutes later. Still, depending on how reliable my mental math was, that 1,200 kilometers could shrink by a few hundred or stretch further. For now, I'd stick with it as a working estimate.
Bennett kept firing off questions like that, and since cooking was a tedious chore, I didn't mind humoring him to pass the time. The kid wasn't much of a chatterbox — something I'd noticed within a week of teaming up with him. As for me, I'd long stopped worrying about "blowing my cover." People in Mondstadt, to my surprise, didn't pry into your personal business, though they could be judgmental about certain topics. Take the name "Lawrence," for example — it's practically a curse word around here, on par with the kind of language I'd sling back home. Pity the poor blond knight whose dad lost a stupid bet and named him Lawrence. Now the guy spends his days proving he's got no ties to those aristocrats.
Our casual chat, followed by a hearty dinner, helped us forget the day's earlier mishaps. The expedition hadn't gone as planned, but the monster parts we'd collected were enough to cover our costs and even turn a small profit. Annoying, sure, but what can you do? I'd have to order a new spear to replace my old one — I'd actually started to like that thing.
The trek back to Mondstadt took just under two days, so by the evening of the next day, we were back in the city. On the way, I ran into Lawrence (yes, that Lawrence) guarding the gate. He filled me in: the Fatui had rolled into town and were already settling in. Their embassy was set up in an old building that used to belong to the Outriders, now vacant since the squad was disbanded due to a lack of recruits.
The streets were busier than usual, which wasn't surprising. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the visitors from that far-off, snow-covered land they'd only heard stories about. Honestly, I was curious to check out Teyvat's version of "stereotypical Russians" myself, but that could wait. Right now, the trade caravan from Fontaine was way higher on my list.
"You're back already?" Katheryne greeted us with her usual smile as we stepped into the Adventurers' Guild. "How'd the trip go?"
"Same old, same old," I said, glancing at her. "Is Garin in?"
She nodded, and I made a beeline for his office, leaving Bennett to handle her barrage of questions.
Garin's sour face greeted me as I walked into his domain. The guy could be insufferable sometimes, and today was no exception. His expression twisted like he'd just bitten into a lemon when he saw me.
"Yo, how's it hangin'?" I flashed a deliberately obnoxious grin, radiating fake cheer.
"Everything was fine until you showed up," he grumbled, running a hand through his messy black hair.
"Aw, that's the spirit!" I kept up the act, enjoying how his scowl deepened. "Guess what? I brought presents."
Ignoring his dramatic sigh, I swaggered into his back room and dumped our haul on the table: valuable monster parts, cores, rare alchemical ingredients, and a pile of odds and ends we could sell to local shopkeepers. I dusted off my hands theatrically, gave Garin a hearty pat on the shoulder, and leaned against the wall to watch him get to work.
My less-than-friendly attitude toward Garin wasn't random. The guy had an ego the size of Dragonspine and wasn't above skimming off the top when it came to appraising materials. I'd caught him red-handed once — purely by accident. If I'd ratted him out to Katheryne, he'd probably have gotten a slap on the wrist or, at worst, a fine. His reputation was solid, so I played it smarter. I kept the proof (a little notebook I'd swiped from him, now stashed in my inventory) for leverage, biding my time.
It took him fifteen minutes to sort through everything. By the end, I was the proud owner of two hefty sacks of Mora, one of which I tucked into my spatial pocket. I shot Garin one last cheeky grin before heading back to the guild's main hall, where Bennett was still fending off Katheryne's relentless curiosity.
"Get lost," Garin muttered as I crossed the threshold.
"Catch ya later!" I called over my shoulder, flipping him off as I slammed the door shut.
As expected, Katheryne had cornered Bennett, but I swooped in at the right moment to "heroically" rescue him. Making up some excuse about urgent business, I dragged the unresisting kid outside. On the street, I handed him his share of the loot, and together we headed toward the southern gate, where the Fontaine caravan had set up shop. I wasn't the only one eager to check out the high-tech goodies from a nation that was light-years ahead of the rest of Teyvat — Bennett was just as curious.
Ever since the dragon fiasco, most caravans had avoided Mondstadt, but with that problem finally solved, trade routes were buzzing again. I didn't have anything specific I wanted to buy; I just wanted to scope out the goods through the eyes of someone from a more advanced world.
The market was packed, but we managed to weave through the stalls in under an hour. Fabrics, simple gadgets, artifacts, tools, weapons, fruits, vegetables, and all sorts of practical knickknacks — stuff that was cheap in Fontaine but worth a fortune here. By the end of the day, the locals had nearly cleared the stalls, though I wouldn't be surprised if the savvy merchants had stashed extra stock to extend their stay. I couldn't resist grabbing a few useful items myself, just for convenience. But among the piles of goods, one thing stopped me dead in my tracks. At first, I didn't believe my eyes, but after a closer look — and a quick touch to confirm — it hit me.
What's that saying? Love at first sight?