"Life-Reversal Pill?!"
As Idris described the effects, eyes lit up all across the Grand Bazaar. A low buzz of Sumeru voices followed.
"Worthy of the Grand Sage—still as generous as ever."
"Every time he brings something out, it's priceless."
"Shame these are for the top performers on the field. Folks like us—regular troopers—probably won't see one."
"Relax. When has the Grand Sage ever lied? Even if the standouts were Vision bearers, he's never shortchanged the rest of us—whether we're Matra, the Corps of Thirty, or plain mercs."
The foreign guests looked on, openly envious.
At Liyue's table, Hu Tao practically drooled. "People say 'immortal pills' exist, but seeing is believing! A pill that hands you an extra life—"
"Ahem. No, no. As director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, I should confiscate such balance-breaking curios… for research," she corrected, utterly unconvincing.
Xiangling chimed in, "If we'd known, we would've helped on the walls! Against monsters, we could pull our weight. Also I'm very curious what an 'immortal pill' tastes like—purely academically!"
Keqing shot both Pyro girls a look. In truth, today's nationwide mobilization made foreign intervention politically improper. Whatever their strength, she would've stopped them. Their role now was to witness—to watch Sumeru grow stronger under Idris.
And Idris hadn't forgotten the ordinary soldiers. He flicked his fingers again; a flesh-colored pill appeared.
"Many of you fought bravely," he said. "I promised rewards; that includes you. These are Quenching Body Pills—they temper the physique and grant a degree of resistance to elemental damage.
"They're simple to refine, but we need thousands, so supply will lag a bit. Don't worry—you won't be left out."
Thousands would daunt any alchemist—any but Idris. With avatars minding his furnaces, a few hundred Quenching Pills a day wasn't a problem.
For the rank and file, his words hit hard. They weren't Vision bearers, and on the walls they were hardly the spearpoint. Envy had pricked them when the immortal reward was announced. To be remembered now—by a newly crowned king—moved them deeply. Even the desert's Eremites, once hot-blooded followers of the Scarlet King, felt their allegiance shift.
Scarlet King? Sorry—we're not acquainted. Our king is Idris.
With the prizes unveiled, it was time to award them. Idris told the crowd to eat, drink, and celebrate—"This is a victory feast, not an audience chamber." In Sumeru as it stood, Idris's word was law.
He began with Cyno, pressing a Life-Reversal Pill into his hand.
"Cyno, you've done well. In matters of order and security, you're the steadiest hand in the realm.
"I've also looked into your mentor and the matter of Hermes-Anubis. I'll free some time for you to pursue it. As for your mentor—age weighs on him. I'll assign young men to guard and care for him."
Cyno bowed, voice tight. "My thanks, Grand Sage!"
Merit determined the order of awards; after Cyno—who held the bloodiest front—came the traveler.
"Traveler," Idris said, holding out a pill, "this will suit your path more than most. An extra life, when you live by the road."
(He privately noted it wouldn't boost sleep resistance in the slightest.)
Lumine's gaze wavered. Temptation was obvious… but she hesitated, then shook her head.
"More than an immortal pill, there's something else I need to say." She drew a breath, then bowed deeply in front of everyone. "I'm sorry. I misjudged you."
Her shoulders were stiff; her cheeks flushed crimson. She knew perfectly well half of Mondstadt and Liyue were watching. It was mortifying—but leaving the apology unsaid would weigh on her far worse.
Idris smiled mildly. "Think nothing of it. This isn't the first time I've been misunderstood.
"I'm Sumeru's Grand Sage. You of all people know what my predecessors were like. How many accusations do you think I've taken along this road?
"You're neither the first nor the last—no apology needed. Take the pill."
He added, "The Adventurers' Guild reports you completed my commission excellently. This is your payment—three Dragonforce Pills. They grant a short burst of physical might. Keep them."
He left them in her hands and moved on.
His nonchalance—and that effortless grace—made the traveler's heart stir. That half-joking challenge from Nilou this morning came back with a vengeance. Before she could stop herself, she stepped forward to halt him.
"X—Idris, there's something else!"
"If it isn't urgent, make it brief," he said evenly. "I have more to do."
His calm eyes cooled the moment. Her blush faded a shade; reason re-anchored her.
"It's not— I'd like a favor. May I meet the Little Auspicious Princess—no, Her Highness Nahida? I want to ask about my brother… my blood kin."
The truer words she'd almost spoken retreated to her chest.
"That's fine," Idris said. "I'll bring Her Highness presently—you may ask her anything. And if you're seeking a relative, we'll sketch a notice with his likeness. If there's news, you'll hear at once."
"…Thank you, Grand Sage."
"Think nothing of it."
He angled away toward his next recipient. The traveler watched his retreating back, palm pressed to her racing heart.
Paimon fluttered up, eyes worried. "Traveler? You look funny—are you okay?"
In a whisper too soft for Paimon's ears, she murmured, "So this is what it's like… when feeling refuses to be managed by reason."
"If reason could manage it," she added under her breath, "it wouldn't be feeling."
"Huh? What was that?" Paimon blinked. "You were too quiet!"
"It's nothing… Let's sit and wait for Her Highness."
She rubbed her burning cheeks and settled in to await Nahida's entrance.
Meanwhile, Idris reached Nilou. To be honest, one look at her—eyes like liquid light, cheeks warm with wine—told him she was about to do something… bold. He kept his face neutral as he approached.
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