Though Crepus's swordsmanship talent was poor and his training results were lackluster—barely reaching the threshold for knighthood—he was meticulous when teaching his son Diluc the fundamentals. Horizontal slashes. Vertical strikes. Thrusts.
Though Diluc had just begun, each movement was precise and proper. In Crepus's view, these basic techniques would take someone who had never held a sword at least half a month to master. But Diluc's talent completely defied his expectations.
In just three days, Diluc had mastered all the fundamental techniques. In a sense, young Diluc had surpassed his father in swordsmanship in only three days. He had become the family's hope.
At this point, Crepus, a failure at swordsmanship, could no longer teach his son. To give Diluc better training and deeper knowledge of knighthood, Crepus spared no expense. He hired a professional knight from the Knights of Favonius stationed in Mondstadt to be Diluc's exclusive instructor.
But no one expected that before the knight even arrived, Diluc—who had only just learned the basics—would quietly awaken a Vision. Even the usually composed Crepus was nearly floored. He had spent half a lifetime striving—never becoming a knight, never obtaining a Vision. Yet his son had awakened a Vision after just a few days of training. It was hard not to feel envious.
Even Crepus envied his own son. This was true genius. This was a protagonist's path.
Regardless, Crepus was overjoyed that his son could carry on the Ragnvindr legacy. He smiled, "Even within the Knights of Favonius, only a few core members possess Visions. With a Vision, you'll surely become a knight—and earn the blessing of the great Anemo Archon."
As an ordinary man, Crepus didn't know how Visions were granted, but he believed it had something to do with the great Anemo Archon. Though Barbatos never appeared, Crepus, as one of his most devout followers, always believed the Archon was watching over Mondstadt in secret.
Young Diluc was equally confident. "Father, when the next knight selection comes, I'll sign up."
Crepus hesitated. "Ahem—I know you're a genius, but even geniuses shouldn't rush too much. The knight selection is extremely difficult."
Just thinking about the trials made Crepus shudder. They were brutal—testing swordsmanship, horsemanship, archery, and even written exams. He had tried for years and never passed. Even if Diluc was a genius, surely it would take at least a year or two to pass such rigorous tests.
But Diluc was full of confidence. "Father, believe in me."
Crepus relented. "Well—if you want to try, I'll support you. It'll also show you just how tough those trials are."
Diluc beamed. "Thank you, Father."
In the following weeks, whenever he had free time, Diluc trained diligently with his knight instructor. He made remarkable progress every single day. Before long, he had not only mastered the Ragnvindr ancestral sword techniques but also learned a portion of the Knights of Favonius's Favonius Bladework.
Even the instructor couldn't help but marvel, "This kid is a monster. It took me three years of hard practice to learn Favonius Bladework, and he mastered it in just half a month. He's a born knight."
Hearing this, Crepus was skeptical. "Sir Knight, you're being too modest. No matter how talented my son is, he can't compare to your three years of training."
The knight replied seriously, "You don't understand Favonius Bladework—you wouldn't get it."
Crepus: "…"
He truly didn't. He had hired a knight to teach him before and spent six months learning—barely grasping a fraction. Yet his son had mastered it in half a month? It was unreal.
Good genes!
With his son's success, Crepus naturally felt proud. He boasted to everyone he met. "My son has signed up for the knight selection—in just a few days, he'll be a real knight. The Ragnvindr Clan is rising again."
Soon, nearly half of Mondstadt had heard of the prodigy Diluc. Even before the selection day, he had drawn widespread attention.
At the Adventurers' Guild, a group of idle adventurers even started a betting pool on whether Diluc would pass the trials.
"Diluc—such an unfamiliar name. Is he some rising prodigy?"
"Ha! He's the son of that failure Crepus. How could a failure's son be a swordsmanship genius?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Back when Crepus took the selection, he swore he'd pass—and he failed every single trial."
"I'm betting 100,000 Mora that Diluc won't make it."
"I'm not so sure. A few days ago, I passed by Dawn Winery and saw Diluc practicing. His swordsmanship looked quite solid. Passing the selection shouldn't be hard."
"I heard Diluc even awakened a Vision—how could he fail?"
"I'm betting 200,000 Mora that Diluc will pass."
A crowd of bored adventurers joined the wager. Knowing Diluc's father was the swordsmanship failure Crepus, many dismissed the son as another failure. But those who had seen Diluc train knew he was a true genius.
Time flew by. Not long after the bets were placed, the next knight selection began outside Mondstadt.