Inside the manor, after a cold-blooded interrogation, Shao Yun strangled the third-to-last surviving member of the Lawrence family until the man suffocated.
Without a moment's hesitation after the deed, Shao Yun turned to Jean and issued a command.
"Jean, finish it."
Jean had become numb to the bloodshed she had witnessed. She gave a silent nod.
The act of delivering a finishing blow had already left her exhausted—her Aquila Favonia now soaked in Lawrence blood. In her heart, she prayed this would be the last.
First, she thrust her blade into the man's left eye. Then, without pause, she drove it deep into his right—both blows piercing the skull completely.
It was as Shao Yun had instructed: two strikes to the head, symbolizing the principle of finishing what one starts.
Afterward, Shao Yun led Jean to the room where Schubert Lawrence and Ross Lawrence were hiding.
Without hesitation, he kicked open the door and activated Deadeye—only to see Schubert Lawrence gripping Paimon tightly with his left hand, a flintlock pistol in his right, slowly aiming it at Shao Yun.
Ross Lawrence charged at him with a sword.
Shao Yun calmly took aim and fired—a shot straight through Ross's heart. Then, with a second bullet, he shattered the hand Schubert held his pistol with.
Schubert screamed in pain, releasing his grip on Paimon.
Paimon seized the chance, struggling free, and flew crying into Shao Yun's arms.
"Wahhh—Shao Yun! I was so scared!"
Shao Yun held her tightly, a flicker of guilt and self-reproach flashing in his eyes.
He wanted to say something to comfort the trembling girl, but the words never left his lips.
Instead, he simply patted her gently on the back, then turned and handed her to Jean.
"Call Venti. Take Paimon and the others out of here. Leave the rest to me—I'll clean this up."
Jean gave Shao Yun a deep look before leaving the blood-soaked manor with the still-traumatized Paimon.
Shao Yun watched them go, then turned his icy gaze toward Schubert Lawrence, who clutched his bleeding hand, his face pale and twisted with pain.
"Before you die, I have something special planned. I want you to meet someone."
Schubert gritted his teeth, trembling with pain.
"You mean Eula? Hah! I refuse to see that traitor who's betrayed our family!"
Just then, Venti appeared at the door. He had already seen the blood-drenched chaos inside and felt a chill in his heart—but still, he forced himself to remain composed.
"Shao Yun, I'm here. What do you intend?"
Shao Yun turned, raised two fingers, and issued his order.
"Two things. You must do both. First, I want you, in the name of the Archon Barbatos, to strip Schubert Lawrence—and the entire Lawrence family—of the honor they pride themselves on."
Hearing this, Schubert's face twisted with fury and pain.
"You—you?! A bard dares declare the stripping of our centuries-old glory?! We aided Lord Barbatos in overthrowing the Tyrant of the Tower! Even Vennessa the Lionfang Knight didn't hold such authority!"
Venti heard Shao Yun's request and, after a brief pause, nodded.
The braids beside his face began to glow a faint green. At that moment, in the name of the Wind Archon, he solemnly declared:
"I, Barbatos, Archon of Wind, hereby strip the Lawrence family of all honor and standing."
The moment those words left his lips, Schubert's face turned deathly white. He stared at Venti in disbelief.
"You… You're really… Lord Barbatos?"
Venti didn't answer. Instead, he turned to Shao Yun.
"And the second?"
Shao Yun inhaled deeply.
The second punishment was his true retribution.
"The second… I want you to declare that the Archon of Wind has forsaken all members of the Lawrence family—except for Eula. Their souls shall never return to Mondstadt's land."
Venti's eyes widened.
A chill ran down his spine.
He understood the gravity of such a curse. The first demand was psychological—but the second challenged his divine authority.
Even the vilest of the dead had never been denied passage of soul.
Not even the monster bird… and now, this?
"Shao Yun, that's too cruel. I…"
"Say it." Shao Yun's growl rumbled from deep within.
Venti realized there was no room for negotiation. He took a long, resigned breath.
His braids glowed again. Then, with sorrow and weight in his voice, he declared:
"I, Barbatos, Archon of Wind, hereby declare—all members of the Lawrence family, save for Eula, have been forsaken. Their souls shall never return to Mondstadt!"
As Venti's words faded, Shao Yun thought he heard the echoing laughter of devils.
This was the retribution he had chosen for the Lawrence bloodline: their souls would be offerings to something far darker.
Satisfied, he turned to Venti with a smile.
"You can leave now. Your part is done."
Venti stared at Shao Yun's smile—a complicated mix of dread and sorrow in his heart. He cast one last glance at the crumpled Schubert Lawrence…
Then turned to wind and vanished.
Shao Yun grabbed Schubert, his expression void of mercy.
"Next comes the final part. I will offer every Lawrence—except for Eula—to that devil I despise!"
Schubert had already lost the will to resist.
He looked up, confused and trembling.
"What are you planning? If you mean to kill me, just do it already. Your threats mean nothing now."
But Shao Yun, as if lost in his own world, shouted aloud.
"You devil hiding in the dark! I wish to see you now!"
A system prompt blinked into view.
[You will not see that mysterious entity for some time.]
Shao Yun was momentarily surprised. So, it keeps its word, huh?
He quickly returned to calm.
With a cold smirk, he muttered, "If you're so loyal to contracts, fine. I'll do it myself. You can claim it later."
Without a flicker of emotion, he broke all four of Schubert's limbs.
Then, effortlessly lifting him like prey, Shao Yun dragged him to the Lawrence family's grand hall.
There, beneath the once-proud emblem of their house, Shao Yun nailed him to the wall in an upside-down cruciform pose.
He wasn't done.
One by one, Shao Yun dragged the corpses of every Lawrence he'd executed into the room—arranging them neatly before Schubert.
Then, from his waist, he drew his knife—and began dissecting the bodies with terrifying precision.
Blood soaked the floor. The smell of death hung thick in the air.
Using their blood, Shao Yun painted a grotesque inverted pentagram beneath Schubert's horrified eyes.
He placed harvested organs at each corner of the symbol—creating a scene too nightmarish to describe.
Schubert screamed in despair.
"I was wrong! I was blind! Please, just make it quick!"
But Shao Yun ignored him.
He silently retrieved the Pagan Skull Mask from his Legend of the East satchel—and fastened it onto Schubert's face.
The final shred of hope shattered.
"Kill me—please…" Schubert begged.
Shao Yun simply placed a finger to his lips.
"Shhh..."
Then he slit both of Schubert's wrists.
Blood gushed, soaking his clothes, pooling on the floor.
Schubert—dangling, inverted, mask-bound—lost all reason. His screams echoed…
But no one answered.
Shao Yun never looked back.
He walked silently out of the Lawrence manor.
[Legend of the East Challenge III Complete]
[You chose to sacrifice all Lawrences—save for Eula—to the devil.]
[Reward: Legend of the East Set Fragment ×1]
…
Under the ink-drenched night sky, the Lawrence estate resembled a fresh corpse—tinged with cold dread.
Then came the crows.
Hundreds of black crows descended, like messengers from the edge of hell.
They swirled above the manor, forming a vast vortex.
The moment their count reached six hundred and sixty-six, they surged inward—straight toward the grand hall.
Wings flapped. Screeches echoed.
For thirteen seconds, chaos reigned.
Then—silence.
As if receiving some ancient command, the crows stopped, landing in perfect formation. They cleared a path.
The door creaked open.
A Man with a Top Hat walked in.
His hands were clasped behind his back. He stood before the crucified Schubert—then slowly walked the path the crows had laid.
Stopping at the blood-drawn pentagram, the man in the top hat lowered his gaze.
He studied the design.
Then glanced up at Schubert and murmured,
"That man thinks like a child. Summoning me this way, dumping you here—yet saying nothing of his wish. I have a contract to honor, but I still have rules. What a bother."
Schubert, pale from blood loss, opened his eyes faintly.
"W-Who… are you?"
The man in the top hat didn't answer. He continued surveying the hall.
"His pentagram is… flawless. The organs… perfectly placed. Is he really Arthur Morgan? Or did those memories hide darker things? Or maybe it's that useless system that taught him."
Schubert's breath weakened. Desperate, he whispered,
"Can you… save me? I don't want to die…"
The top hat man blinked. His gaze softened, slightly.
"Sorry. I'm just an accountant. We don't know each other. Why should I?"
With a wave of his hand, the crows assembled again—this time forming a throne.
He sat and said softly,
"I can't save you. But… I'll stay with you until the end."
And so, he waited.
As time passed, Schubert slipped into hemorrhagic shock.
His life flickered.
When the moment came, the Man with a Top Hat stood, walked to him, and gently closed his lifeless eyes beneath the mask.
"Goodnight, Mister Lawrence."
The hall fell silent.
Only the Man in a Top Hat remained—
And a sea of crows.