"Alright. If the blade's curse is gone, I'll just treat it as a pretty, wicked sword."
With that, Idris weighed the weapon in his hand. A villain carrying a sinister blade—no contradiction there. After a few tests he discovered his Dendro Vision housed a pocket space for personal armaments. Perfect. He sank Frostmourne into that emerald vortex; it would now answer his call at a thought.
He set off toward the Grand Bazaar.
Inside the Bazaar, Zubayr listened to Nilou's request: help spread the word about the new Alchemy Division the Grand Sage planned to found at the Akademiya.
Zubayr gave her a strange look. "Nilou, you do remember our history with the Akademiya, right? 'Frosty' would be generous. And now you want us to promote the current Grand Sage?"
Nilou nodded. "Yes. If the Alchemy Division launches smoothly, it'll help everyone—the Bazaar, and Sumeru as a whole. The six existing Darshans have been calcified for centuries. Adding a seventh will stir things up, so I want to help."
"…You don't have a personal reason, do you?" Zubayr arched a brow. "He's young, capable, ruthless when needed, and—let's be honest—handsome. If you said you liked him, I wouldn't call it unreasonable."
Around them, a few troupe elders coughed diplomatically, then nodded as if this was the only logical explanation.
Nilou's cheeks colored. "N-no. He created a method that saved my friend. I just want to publicize alchemy so the division is established properly. I still don't agree with many things he's done, but I can't deny what he's achieved."
That, at least, everyone could accept. And Eleazar… if that nightmare truly had a cure, then Sumeru stood at the edge of a miracle.
After a sober pause, Zubayr and the other leaders exchanged looks and nodded.
"Fine. We'll help push the message starting tomorrow," Zubayr said. "If the Grand Sage is really working for the people, the Bazaar can meet effort with effort."
Nilou's smile bloomed—then a crisp clap… clap… clap drifted from the entrance.
Conversation died like a candle pinched out. Idris walked in, unhurried, every step widening the hush. The air itself seemed to lean away from his presence; that imperial pressure he carried these days pressed on the latticework of lantern light.
Nilou's breath hitched. The Bazaar had long been a punching bag for Grand Sages; even tolerated visits were rare. What was he here to do?
Idris finished applauding and let his hands fall. "Good. I heard your discussion. Sensible words. That means we can speak more… comfortably."
Comfort was not, in fact, what anyone felt. He smiled a fraction.
"Zubayr. Miss Nilou. Everyone. Relax. I'm not here to crack down on anything. I'm here to rent your venue."
"Rent… our venue?" Nilou echoed, startled.
"If you demanded we vacate," one elder muttered, "we'd… believe that, too."
Idris's tone stayed even. "A Liyue delegation will arrive in a few days—formal diplomacy. I intend to host them here, at the Grand Bazaar."
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