Morax the Geo Archon: Billionaire in the Chat Group

"Zhongli~~~ Zhongli. You've reverted to using this name again," came a melodious male voice, accompanied by the crisp sound of a lyre. The voice, carried by the wind, reached Zhongli's ears.

"Every journey has its final day. Don't rush."

Leaning against a towering ancient tree, Zhongli raised a jade cup in one hand and brought it to his lips.

"A leisurely stroll in the mortal world, a life as Zhongli."

The sound of the lyre floated down from the tree. Following the music's source, a handsome youth in a white cloak sat perched on a branch, gazing leisurely into the distance.

His view spanned the ethereal clouds and the majestic mountains and rivers beneath the vast sky.

Far off, an eagle circled in the air, its cry piercing the tranquil scene.

"How is it you found time today to accept my invitation and share a drink?"

The youth in sky blue, seemingly out of nowhere, raised a jade cup and gestured toward Zhongli with a carefree motion.

"To the brim!"

"To the brim."

As the distant wind roared, Zhongli narrowed his eyes, the fragrance of Glaze Lilies filling his senses.

Squinting, he lifted his cup to drink in a distant toast.

"Another hundred years have passed," the green youth remarked as he occasionally strummed the lyre resting in his arms. The wind carried his music effortlessly.

"Since the Archon War ended, the rulers of this world have rotated through several cycles. Yet here we are, the two old relics, still holding on."

"No, it is I who persist. Barbatos, your state hardly qualifies as persistence." Zhongli, uncharacteristically blunt, shot back.

"Hahaha~~!" Venti, the Anemo Archon, laughed freely at the critique.

Known for his carefree demeanor, Venti had become Mondstadt's Archon—the so-called God of Freedom—after leading the rebellion against the tyranny of the King of Towers.

But his nature hadn't changed one bit.

The wind symbolized freedom, spontaneity, and love.

"Hahaha~~! Don't make it sound like I neglected Mondstadt entirely. In the beginning, I worked diligently, flattening mountains, transforming seas into fertile plains, and sculpting the prosperous Mondstadt we see today."

The God of Freedom boasted about his achievements with a grin.

"Rationally speaking, your early efforts were indeed commendable."

Zhongli took another sip of his wine, his thoughts drifting along with the Anemo Archon's. His memories stretched back to distant times—times of camaraderie, adventures through lakes and mountains, cups of fine wine, and meals under the morning dew.

Back then, they defeated gods in casual conversations and nurtured life in humble actions.

They celebrated beneath trees and by lakes, hosting grand feasts, dancing, and rejoicing. The air was filled with the fragrance of Glaze Lilies and the serenity of Qingxin.

But time had marched on.

Six thousand years, vivid as yesterday, overlapped now with the presence of this Wind God.

"Things seem less peaceful lately," Venti remarked after finishing his second cup.

"Go on."

Zhongli set down his cup, his expression solemn as he listened.

"There's trouble with Dvalin," Venti admitted with a shake of his head. "He seems to be in great pain, and I'm trying to find him to offer comfort."

Zhongli lowered his head, pondering for a few seconds. "Do you have any leads?"

"It's likely an issue with an old wound inflicted by the Venomous Dragon Durin." Venti sighed, his expression tinged with helplessness. "And there's this peculiar group called the Abyss Order lurking in the background."

"The aura of something beyond this world reappeared recently," Zhongli reminded him in a low voice. "A traveler from beyond seems to have arrived in this world."

"No matter. That's Celestia's responsibility," Venti replied dismissively, releasing the small lyre in his hand. It dissolved into sky-blue elemental particles, scattering into the wind.

Leaning back against the tree branch, he let out a long sigh.

"Looks like this free-spirited Anemo Archon, who hasn't handled affairs in a millennium, has to get busy again."

"Do you still have enough power?" Zhongli straightened his posture, looking up slightly. "The power of the Seven depends on their connection to their respective nations. You haven't governed Mondstadt for a thousand years. The strength of your Gnosis must have dwindled considerably—perhaps even less than Mondstadt's knight captain."

"The Anemo Archon is exactly that kind of character," Venti replied, spreading his arms with a nonchalant grin.

"When we rebelled against the King of Towers, I was a free wind spirit—singing for Andrius, blessing the Knight Captain, and riding Dvalin's back with cheerful songs. I was but a bard."

"Don't expect too much from me, oh mighty God of War, God of Rock, and God of Contracts—the strongest Archon of them all!"

Venti suddenly smirked mischievously.

"If I managed Mondstadt the way you do, I'd keel over from exhaustion before it even flourished. Look at the others—they took everything too seriously, and that's why they departed so soon."

"You're the only one, the strongest Archon, still standing, your glory untarnished."

"But even you must be weary by now."

The Anemo Archon squinted playfully, teasing, "I heard about your negotiations with the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, you know."

"Oh?" Zhongli's brow furrowed slightly.

"The wind carries stories, after all. That's why I'm Mondstadt's best bard," Venti declared, puffing out his chest with pride.

"It's not that I'm weary," Zhongli said, standing slowly under the tree, perched atop the cliff.

He gazed out at Liyue's mountains and rivers, illuminated by the golden light of the heavens.

"Let me share this story with Mondstadt's greatest bard."

"One day, as I strolled through Liyue Harbor, I happened upon a shopkeeper speaking to an older employee, whose hair was beginning to gray."

"'Old friend, you've worked here for thirty years. It's time to rest. From now on, come collect a Mora stipend from me every month. You won't need to do heavy work anymore.'"

"Hearing these words, I felt a sense of melancholy."

"If mortals, after decades of work, have a time to retire, then when should I step down?"

"With that thought, I made my agreement with the Tsaritsa."

Dinglingling~~~

The delicate melody of the lyre lingered, as if freezing time itself.

The Archons of Mondstadt and Liyue, wind and stone, sat together.

The fragrance of wine mixed with the fresh scent of Glaze Lilies along the cliff's edge.

"Hahaha, you're tired, Zhongli."

"....."

"All that talk—you just want to rest, don't you?"

"..."

"Why not live like me, enjoying each day leisurely? Why govern your nation so strictly?"

"..."

"Hmm? Say something, Morax!"

"Go do your job, Barbatos!"

As Zhongli's words fell, a massive rock pillar erupted beneath Venti's feet, its steep angle sending the Wind God tumbling off the cliff.

Whoosh!

Wings of wind unfurled, carrying Venti toward the distant clouds.

"Hahaha~~! I'm heading back now. Let's share another drink next time!"

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T/N: VOLUME 2 STARTS MAUWHUAHFDAUH