Chapter 1: Prologue

"Ugh, boring! I mean, why do I even bother?" Furina sighed, sitting on her throne.

A sense of utter boredom was etched across her face.

The silence that enveloped courtroom seemed endless, as the day to day affairs failed to ignite any spark of excitement within her.

"Ugh, when are we going to finally see a real twist for once?" she whined.

She longed for an adventure, anything to free her from this monotonous lifestyle.

Fortune had smiled upon her, for on that very day, her wish was about to be granted.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the realm of Teyvat, there moved a figure with understated grace and an aura of intrigue. A handsome young man whose appearance mirrored the elegance of the lands he traversed.

Silver strands of hair cascade in a stylish tousle, catching the light to shimmer like the moon's gentle glow. His eyes, a mesmerizing hue of sea blue with distinct irises shaped like stars. Tall and well-built, he exuded confidence and strength. With a grace that captivated the viewers, he weaved a symphony of steel, a testament to his mastery of the sword.

He never indulged himself in worldly desires and preferred to keep a low profile while traveling. His attire was simple yet pleasing to look at. It included practical fabrics without any extravagant colors, allowing him to easily blend in with the common folk.

Whether amidst the verdant forests of Mondstadt or the bustling streets of Liyue, he always immersed himself in the beauty that surrounded him. A roningasa rested atop his head, concealing his features from prying eyes. While his eyes remained visible, the hat served as an aegis, allowing him to maintain his anonymity.

He enjoyed the peaceful life of a wandering swordsman. Despite his aversion to socializing, he always tried to lend a hand to people in need. As whispers fluttered in the wind, his name, Kyouya, was uttered only in the quiet corners of taverns and farms.

He enjoyed traveling across nations, admiring the beauty of nature wherever he went. Next on his list was Fontaine, the nation which boasted its immersion in the development of technology. Upon reaching the outskirts of the nation, Kyouya would witness the struggle and hardship of the common folk. Before he realized it, his journey had taken an unexpected turn.

He observed a humble family from afar, their faces filled with fear and exhaustion. The man of the household, a poor lumberjack with calloused hands, stood alongside his wife and daughter. The girl was merely ten years old. Before them, stood a notorious gang of seven brothers. They were infamous for their ruthless nature. The gang's name was whispered in hushed tones among the locals. They were known as the Crimson Rogues, a rather fitting name for their iron-fisted control along these parts.

The gang consisted of brothers who started out as delinquents before taking up more violent practices. The leader, a tall muscular man with a menacing grin, shouted his demands at the helpless family. He demanded payment from the family. It was their way of collecting tax in order to ensure 'protection' for their victims. At the end of the day, the only danger you're being protected from is the gang itself.

As his gaze remained fixated upon the poor family, a fleeting moment of vulnerability infiltrated his thoughts. He would recall his childhood trauma once again. A scene etched in pain and tragedy-the memory of his father, a poor blacksmith who used to work day and night to earn a meager living. The horrific echoes of a fateful day resurfaced-the day when merciless robbers had descended upon his father's humble shop.

Kyouya's heart shattered as he relived the brutal scene, the sounds of metal clanking and agonized cries of his whole family reverberating within his mind. The robbers subjected his father to a merciless beating and looted the shop entirely, all while abducting his younger sister, ripping their family apart once and for all.

He snapped out of his thoughts and regained his composure as he looked at the face of the young girl standing amidst the hopeless family. It was as if he could see his long lost sister's face within that poor girl. He recalled her crying face as she was abducted and in that instant, the weight of his past collided with the urgency of the present. The pain in his heart felt like it was spreading all over. He simply could not stand by and watch something like that happen again.

Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself mentally to face the gang head on. The leader of the gang bore a commanding presence. His demeanor displayed his ruthless authority. As Kyouya stepped into view of the gang, the man stared at him with disgust.

"Do you know who the fuck I am? The name's Arnaud, I run this town. Get the fuck out of here before I chop you up into little pieces."

Unfazed, he met Arnaud's hostility with a calm resolve, his words mixed with a blend of wit and diplomacy.

"Ah, Arnaud, is it? Your reputation precedes you. Surely you understand the value of a peaceful resolution. Let us set aside our differences and find a solution that benefits all parties involved."

The whole atmosphere suddenly became silent as some onlookers were shocked at his bravery.

"Does he have a deathwish?" a man whispered.

To this, a wise old man replied,

"Either he is insane or he is the most dangerous person in the area right now."

Arnaud began laughing loudly, his brothers followed suit.

"Get a load of this guy. Peaceful resolution he says. HAHAHA. You're not from around these parts, are ya, pretty boy? '' Arnaud scoffed.

The situation had gotten worse, the air became heavy with the anticipation of conflict. Kyouya's gaze hardened, his voice steadying as he prepared for the inevitable duel.

"I had hoped that we wouldn't need to resort to violence, but it seems you leave me no choice. If it's a battle you want then I will give you one to remember. The time for talk is over."

He drew his sword, as it shined brightly in the sunlight. The clash between them became inevitable. As he closed his eyes, his mind wandered off again, the memories of his master's teachings surged forth. The extreme discipline instilled within him by the old man flowed through his whole being once more, intensifying his resolve for the battle.

Opening his eyes, he tightened his grip around the sword, his body poised for action. Arnaud swiftly withdrew his nunchucks, their metallic links glinting ominously.

"Heh, it's been a while since someone actually put up a fight. You son of a bitch, I'm in."

The confrontation had shifted to a dance of fluid motion and calculated strikes, as Kyouya sought to evade and counter with precision, purposefully holding back the full might of his attacks. With every swing and twirl of the nunchucks, Arnaud attempted to ensnare him within their whirling path.

But Kyouya's senses were honed, his movements mimicking an ethereal spirit. He was nimble, evasive and flowed effortlessly, sidestepping each blow and exploiting the split seconds of openings that Arnaud carelessly revealed. With measured strikes, he conveyed his skill to the thug without delivering a lethal blow. His blows landed with extreme precision, leaving Arnaud momentarily staggered but not wounded to the point of no return. His intention was clear. He wished to subdue the criminals rather than annihilating them.

Kyouya's sword danced in elegant arcs, with each strike serving as a reminder of the power he held. Arnaud fell to the ground, absolutely furious.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU MORONS WAITING FOR? SLICE HIM UP ALREADY!" he barked.

This awakened the primal instincts within the brothers. They responded to his command like a pack of bloodthirsty hounds. In an instant, the brothers closed in, their weapons shining in the sunlight. Knives, baseball bats, brass knuckles, and a myriad of crude instruments of violence revealed themselves. They had surrounded him at a moment's notice. Kyouya's gaze swept across the sea of hostility, his senses heightening. He braced himself for the onslaught of seven adversaries.

Arnaud had gotten up from the ground and prepared himself for the beat-down as well. Kyouya harnessed his resolve to face the ferocity of seven assailants, channeling the essence of a lone warrior against the onslaught of the ruthless gang. In that moment, to him, everything else in the world had faded away. There was nothing but him and seven demons, ready to meet their demise by his hands. The brothers lunged forward as if it was feeding time for a pack of hounds.

The first brother, donning brass knuckles, sought to unleash a barrage of swift punches. His fists were extremely quick.

"TAKE THIS!" the thug shouted.

However, Kyouya was much quicker. He anticipated each strike with uncanny foresight. Waving and dodging perfectly, his body seemed to defy the very laws of physics. Maneuvering his sword with remarkable finesse, he delivered precise counterstrikes, causing the man to stagger backward.

The second brother, wielding a sturdy bat, aimed a sweeping arc at Kyouya's midsection, aiming to incapacitate him with a single crushing blow.

"Think quick!"

But Kyouya's agility was unmatched. He ducked beneath the arcing swing, his body moving with an otherworldly grace. Seizing the opportunity, his sword followed a lethal opening through the air and quickly connected with the brother's exposed flank. The man cried out in pain.

"You should take your own advice," he smirked.

The third brother, armed with a viciously glinting knife, launched himself at Kyouya with an overhand strike, seeking to deliver a swift, lethal blow. However, Kyouya easily deflected the blade with the grace of a dancer, redirecting the momentum of the attack. In a fluid motion, his sword found its mark with unwavering precision, striking the brother's forearm with a resounding thud, causing him to yelp in pain.

"Stay down."

One after another, the remaining brothers stepped forth, brandishing their weapons. But he stood unyielding, his focus was simply unmatched on the battlefield. He moved with the grace of a predator.

"Ugh, some people never learn," he sighed.

With every swing, thrust, and parry, he transformed the chaotic battlefield into a meticulously orchestrated play like as if he was the lead actor. The brothers did not stand a chance even when they attacked him together. The air was filled with a symphony of steel meeting steel alongside grunts of exertion and the occasional cry of pain from the brothers.

Kyouya's eyes remained locked on his opponents as he anticipated their moves while simultaneously launching counterattacks. With every successful parry and counterattack, the brothers began to falter, their movements slowing down immensely, their confidence slowly fading away. He emerged as an indomitable force. As the clash continued, the once confident gang members found themselves to be no match for his overwhelming swordsmanship.

The youngest brother, named Jose, snuck away from the fight. He rushed towards the defenseless girl and pointed a knife at her throat. As he held the innocent girl hostage, a palpable tension filled the air. Kyouya's gaze remained fixated on the trembling figure, his features transformed by a mixture of anguish and fury. The memories of his past flowed through his mind once again. At that moment, something snapped within him.

His eyes, once a serene shade of blue, now burned with an intense, fiery crimson. His Cryo vision, no longer concealed from the naked eye, began pulsating heavily. An ice cold aura enveloped him, causing the temperature to plummet, and a faint mist formed around his figure. The gang members, witnessing this transformation, realized the impending danger and started shouting at their brother to back off.

Up until that moment, he had been fighting with just his swordsmanship. But now, it was time to tap into his true powers. Jose, attempting to mask his fear with bravado, jeered at Kyouya. He believed his hostage would grant him the upper hand, unaware of the force awakening within the young man. But Kyouya remained silent, his piercing gaze fixed upon the desperate assailant.

The air crackled with tension, as if nature itself held its breath in anticipation. Time seemed to flow slowly as his Cryo vision ignited with an icy radiance, casting an ethereal glow across the scene. Without a word, he assumed a stance and his body became a conduit for his icy powers, ready to unleash a frosty tempest upon those scums of society.

He was ready to execute his finishing move, the Glacial Surge. Jose, still clutching the girl with trembling hands, could no longer conceal the fear that overcame him.

"W-What are you doing? Don't try anything funny or she dies!" he stammered.

Kyouya paid no attention to what he was saying. Whispering a single word under his breath, he instantly vanished from Jose's line of sight.

"Disappear."

Before the thug could comprehend what had transpired, his head was severed from his body, the swift strike executing him with lethal precision. The girl, released from the grip of her captor, stood frozen in horror, her wide eyes locked onto the gruesome sight before her.

The lifeless body crumpled to the ground, blood gushing forth and splattering the surroundings while some droplets stained the girl's face. She couldn't even scream in horror since she felt like her voice was caught in her throat.

Kyouya had completely lost his calm and collected aura. The only thing that remained was his bloodshot rage. As the remaining brothers witnessed the horrific demise of their kin, a wave of rage surged through their veins. Blinded by their emotions, they charged forth to fight Kyouya once more.

He had decided that there was no reason to hold back any more. His movements became a lethal dance of steel and precision. With each swing of his sword, he met their onslaught with brutal yet calculated strikes. The clash of metal against flesh resonated through the air, accompanied by the agonized cries of the gang members.

This time, Kyouya's strikes were merciless, severing limbs and rending flesh as he skillfully disabled his assailants. Blood sprayed through the air, painting a gruesome scenery of violence and retribution. The ground beneath their feet became a battlefield littered with the fallen, their bodies twisted and broken. Some of them met their end within an instant while others writhed in agony as their limbs were severed.

The once formidable gang was reduced to absolutely nothing. Amidst the chaos, Kyouya stood victorious. However, he still had one loose end to tie up. Arnaud was lying on the ground, his body battered and broken. With eyes widened in horror, he watched as Kyouya closed the distance.

The man could see his life flashing before him. He closed his eyes, ready to meet his maker. As Kyouya prepared to strike Arnaud, his attention was abruptly drawn to the sound of approaching footsteps and the distant echoes of commanding voices.

He turned his gaze to witness the arrival of two formidable figures, clad in the distinct attire of the Maison Gardiennage.This was the dedicated law enforcement force under the command of the Hydro Archon of Fontaine. They were known for their unfaltering resolve to ensure peace and justice.

The two officers were adorned in gleaming armor that bore the emblem of the law enforcement. It was a crest representing the scales of justice. Their attire consisted of intricate plating. Their helms featured engraved motifs depicting flowing water, symbolizing their connection to the power of hydro. With swords raised and stern expressions, the Gardes swiftly assessed the situation. Their eyes met Kyouya's, and their voices carried a tone of firm authority as they ordered him to raise his hands in the air.

"Hands in the air, now!"

The officers understood the gravity of the situation. They were astonished to see that a single man could take on a notorious gang of seven. The gruesome scene of the fight made them wary of Kyouya. They knew that standing before them was an extremely dangerous individual. The Gardes couldn't help but tremble ever so slightly, realizing the immense prowess and skill he possessed. Despite their realization that he had acted in defense of the innocent, their duty as law enforcers compelled them to subdue him.

Kyouya chose not to resist and silently released his grip on the sword. Arnaud, the now-defeated gang leader, let out a sigh of relief. One of the Gardes approached the swordsman cautiously. With careful movements, he swiftly cuffed Kyouya, preventing any potential further altercation. Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the faint sound of metal clanking as his wrists were secured.

...

...

He accepted his fate, allowing the Gardes to arrest him. Arnaud was also placed under restraints. Reinforcements quickly arrived at the scene. Accompanying the Gardes were a group of medics, their intent to tend to the wounded and offer aid where possible. However, despite their best efforts, it became apparent that many of the men involved in the conflict had either passed away or suffered irreparable injuries.

In the modern city of Fontaine, the Maison Gardiennage used vans for the transportation of prisoners. These vans were sturdy and practical, designed to safely transport individuals in custody from one location to another. The transport vans featured reinforced doors, barred windows, and secure locking mechanisms to prevent any escape attempts. Kyouya's eyes widened as he witnessed the peculiar vehicle in front of him, its design unlike anything he had ever encountered.

As he was escorted onto the van, he took notice of the three stern-faced Gardes who took their seats in front of him, their gazes focused on him. The interior of the vehicle was utilitarian, with sturdy seating and minimal adornments. The engine roared to life, and Kyouya felt a slight jolt as the van set into motion, its suspension absorbing the unevenness of the road.

One of the Gardes placed a duffel bag on his head, preventing him from seeing anything. As the vehicle smoothly maneuvered through the streets of Fontaine, he leaned back against the seat. His mind filled with thoughts of what awaited him.

The van came to a halt. Kyouya felt uneasy for a moment as he could hear the doors open. The muffled sounds of bustling activity from the city outside reached his ears. He understood that they had finally reached Fontaine.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The Gardes escorted him through the pathways and made their way to an elevator. They began descending underground. After a few minutes, they had finally arrived at their location. One of them removed the duffel bag on his face after they had entered the premises and Kyouya could finally see where he was.

It was the Fortress of Meropide, an underwater stronghold that had a measure of autonomy and self-governance from Fontaine's legal system. Its towering walls seem to possess an ominous aura. The prison warden walked up to them. Kyouya defiantly looked at the man.

Standing before him was a tall and muscular man with spiky hair. He was nothing short of handsome. Upon seeing him, one could wonder why he was a warden rather than a model. The man wore a black coat and a striking red tie, exuding elegance within the walls of the correctional facility.

Wriothesley, a name that struck fear into the hearts of every inmate within the facility.

"I don't care how tough you think you are. As long as you are in this prison, you are to abide by my rules. Are we clear?"

Kyouya stayed silent.

"Hmph, so that's how it is? Very well. Gardes, take him away!"

As the warden snapped his fingers, the officers escorted him through the facility. Along the way, he passed by other cells, glimpsing brief moments of weary faces peering out, each criminal bearing their own stories. Finally, they had arrived at his designated cell. The Gardes opened the heavy metal door, revealing a small, sparsely furnished space.

A narrow bed, a small toilet in the corner and a solitary chair formed the entirety of his accommodations. The men guided him inside and removed the restraints, leaving him alone with the weight of his thoughts. As the door clanged shut, Kyouya found himself standing in the dimly lit cell, the sound reverberating through the empty space. He took a moment to survey his new surroundings.

He lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"I've really done it now," he sighed

Feeling his energy fade away, he fell asleep instantly. The next morning, the heavy metal doors of of the cell groaned as they swung open, breaking the silence that had enveloped him for what felt like an eternity. He woke up immediately.

His eyes were adjusted to the dim light entering the cell from the corridor, revealing the figure of an officer standing before him with a cold expression.

"It's time," the man said.

In one hand, the man held a pair of metallic handcuffs. With a calculated motion, the officer approached him and firmly fastened the restraints around his wrists. Once securely bound, the man gestured for him to step out of the cell. Chains jingled faintly as Kyouya rose to his feet. The Garde's gaze remained fixated upon him as they began their brisk march down the hallway. He couldn't help but feel the weight of the handcuffs tugging at his every step. He had never experienced something like this before as he was always a law abiding traveler.

They went up an elevator and turned left to keep walking until they eventually reached the entrance to the courtroom, a grand chamber where justice was to be served. The Garde halted, his hand motioning for him to enter. Stepping into the vast room, Kyouya's eyes swept across the scene before him. This was no ordinary courtroom. It was the Opera Epiclese.

Lavish chandeliers adorned the high ceilings. Intricately designed balconies encircled the chamber, akin to private opera boxes, granting attendees a regal vantage point. However, it seemed like only one woman was sitting there by herself. Rich velvet drapes cascaded down the walls, adorned with delicate motifs that danced with every breath of air. The judge's dais stood as a stage, bedecked with sumptuous fabrics and ornate carvings, where justice unfolded with the dramatic flair.

In short it was the most extravagant courtroom one could ever hope to enter.

Kyouya was left standing at his designated spot, a place where the accused awaited their fate under the piercing gaze of Chief Justice Neuvillette. He looked around to see the jury staring at him. They seemed to be prestigious citizens. It was as if they didn't really care about his crimes as they were just here for the show, murmuring amongst themselves.

Of course, they didn't get a proper look at his face either thanks to the Roningasa and his messy hairstyle covering most of his facial features. That didn't matter in the slightest because the audience also didn't care for who the culprit is. They simply wanted to see an interesting performance.

"I heard he killed seven men all by himself!"

"No, you got it wrong! He killed six, one of them survived!"

"Still, that's a monster no matter how you put it, right?"

As he stood there, he could hear the crowd murmuring amongst themselves

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed a woman sitting in the VIP section with an amused look on her face. It was none other than Lady Furina herself, the Hydro Archon. She was there to witness the drama unfold.

The room fell into a hushed silence as Neuvillette, clad in his regal attire, looked up from the case files spread before him. His eyes, sharp and discerning, locked onto Kyouya, instantly commanding his attention. In this courtroom, he was the absolute authority and his decisions were final.

Kyouya took a deep breath, ready to face the Chief Justice head on.