Dehya nodded at Dunyarzad's turnaround. "Not a bad idea. I'll ping the Eremite crews I know—if they're curious, they can check out this new Alchemy Darshan."
She smirked. "Call it paying back a very responsible Grand Sage."
Then she glanced at Nilou—the most outspoken Idris skeptic of the bunch. Nilou hesitated only a heartbeat before she sighed and nodded. "I'll talk to Master Zubayr. We can add a shout-out during our dances at the Grand Bazaar."
Everyone stared.
"What?" Nilou flustered. "I know I… didn't like the Grand Sage before. Not liking the office doesn't mean I don't— ahem—admire Mister Idris's work."
No one pressed. The room was still buoyed by the miracle of two Eleazar patients sitting up with color in their cheeks—and by the uncomfortable, undeniable fact that Idris had done what even a god hadn't yet.
By the time Idris returned to his office in the boughs of the Holy Tree, both headlines had set Sumeru roaring: Eleazar treatable and a seventh Darshan. The first shattered five centuries of despair; the second broke a five-hundred-year tradition in the Akademiya without blinking. People were stunned—and eager.
He sat, eyed the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated while he'd been chained to the Eight-Trigram Furnace, and rolled up his sleeves. Two days of triage, at least.
The memos were… colorful.
From Faruzan:"Congratulations on founding Alchemy. While we're at it, could you raise funding for our Darshan? As a senior who's lived a century—"
Idris flicked it aside. How did that even get onto his desk—slipped through a window on a gust of Anemo?
From Cyno:"Congratulations. The Matra and the Corps of Thirty will fully support the new Darshan."
From Layla:"Grand Sage, do any pills aid sleep? If so, I can enroll—temporarily—so your new Darshan doesn't suffer a shortfall of students."
From Alhaitham:"Music-Player factory assembled. First batch: 50 units. Output is low while workers learn the line; rate will ramp."
From Dori:"You're opening a new Darshan?"
(Which, translated, read: Is there a deal in it for me?)
Stamp, scrawl, stamp. It felt suspiciously like approving imperial memorials—fitting, given the weight he now carried. Watching from the shadows, Nahida found herself thinking the same unbidden thought as before: he looks less like a scholar-king and more like a king, period.
Two items finally pulled him up short:
From Ganyu, Liyue Envoy:"Grand Sage Idris, well met. Might you receive us in three days?"
From Sumeru Intelligence:"Inazuma report: the Raiden Shogun has been defeated by a mysterious blond traveler."
Idris leaned back, the corner of his mouth quirking.
"Looks like our blond guest is about to clear Inazuma."
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