Hounds of Justice 5
The air was thick with tension as fifty female knights, cloaked in darkness, slipped through the narrow alleyways of Mondstadt. Their armor, muffled beneath layers of dark cloth, made no sound as they moved like shadows beneath the dim night sky. The stars overhead were hidden behind a veil of rolling clouds, offering them the perfect cover for their secret departure. They were loyal to Sallie, sworn to his vision of Mondstadt's future—unyielding, unrelenting, and unafraid of hard choices.
Astrid and Valencia led the way at the front of the column. Astrid's sharp eyes swept the streets ahead, ensuring their path remained clear of any curious onlookers or patrols. Behind her, Valencia's hand rested lightly on the hilt of her sword, ready to draw at a moment's notice. The tension in the air was palpable, but neither woman faltered. This mission was theirs, and they would see it through.
At the rear, Sallie kept a careful distance, watching the horizon as Mondstadt's walls slowly faded into the distance. His face was set in cold determination, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders, yet he carried it with conviction. These women—these soldiers—had chosen to follow him, to believe in his path. They knew that Jean, with her soft touch and diplomatic ideals, would never approve of what they were about to do. But to them, Jean no longer represented the future of Mondstadt. Her way was crumbling, and they would forge a new one.
As they passed the last outpost on the edge of the city, Astrid glanced back toward Sallie, her voice a low whisper barely audible above the rustle of cloaks. "We're clear. No patrols. No signs of anyone noticing."
Sallie nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. We can't afford to be seen."
Valencia, walking beside Astrid, kept her eyes forward, her mind focused on the mission ahead. "Where exactly are we going?" she asked in a low voice, though it was clear she already had an idea. "If Jean catches wind of this..."
"She won't," Sallie cut in, his tone brooking no argument. "We're too far gone now. This is bigger than Jean, bigger than her vision of peace. Mondstadt needs strength, and we're going to make sure it has it."
The words settled over the group like a vow, unspoken but understood. Each knight marching in the dark knew they were about to step onto a path of no return. They had sworn their oaths to Sallie, not because they despised Mondstadt's ideals, but because they believed Mondstadt couldn't survive without changing. The looming threats of the Fatui, the Abyss Order—those were enemies that Jean's diplomatic approach couldn't fend off. These women believed Mondstadt needed to become something more, something fiercer.
Astrid quickened her pace, her eyes narrowing as they approached the outskirts of the city. "We need to keep moving. Dawn's a few hours away, and we can't risk being seen when the gates open."
Sallie stayed at the back, silent, his thoughts already ahead of them. He wasn't blind to the consequences of what he was doing. To defy Jean like this, to defy the structure of the Knights of Favonius—it was a dangerous gamble. But the Knights had grown complacent. He had seen it himself, felt it in the lazy drills of the rank-and-file, in the way the city clung to the illusion that peace could be maintained forever through dialogue and negotiation. Mondstadt needed more, and he would give it to them—even if they didn't realize it yet.
They reached a wooded trail just beyond the city walls, a narrow path winding into the dense forest that lay to the north. Astrid halted briefly, scanning the treeline for any signs of movement before signaling the others to follow. The group moved swiftly, their silence broken only by the occasional whisper between the ranks.
Valencia, always pragmatic, spoke up again once they were deep enough into the woods. "And what happens when Jean realizes we're gone? She's not stupid, Sallie. She'll know something's up when fifty of her knights disappear without a word."
Sallie's jaw clenched, his gaze darkening. "She'll realize soon enough," he replied. "But by then, it'll be too late to stop us. We'll be beyond her reach."
"And the Honorary Knight?" Astrid added, her tone sharp. "You know they'll get involved once Jean does."
Sallie's eyes narrowed at the mention of the Traveler. That silent, mysterious figure had already proven to be a thorn in his side. Despite the Traveler's quiet nature, their presence alone carried weight, and with Paimon constantly voicing her opinions, it was only a matter of time before they would get wind of what was happening.
"They won't stop us," Sallie said coldly. "The Honorary Knight may be powerful, but they're still bound by Jean's leadership. They'll stay out of our way."
But even as he said it, Sallie knew it wouldn't be that simple. The Honorary Knight wasn't someone who could be easily dismissed. If Jean sent them after him, there would be a confrontation, one that might end in more than just words.
Astrid nodded, but there was a flicker of doubt in her expression. "I hope you're right. Because if we have to face them head-on... it won't be easy."
Sallie said nothing, his gaze hard and unyielding. He couldn't afford to think about the consequences now. They were committed to this path, and there was no turning back. Mondstadt needed a change, and he was going to make sure it got one—whether Jean, the Honorary Knight, or anyone else liked it or not.
The group pressed on through the forest, the night growing darker as they delved deeper into the trees. The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional crack of a branch underfoot. Each knight was focused, their thoughts aligned with Sallie's—there was no room for doubt, no room for hesitation.
Finally, after what felt like hours of marching, they reached a small clearing near the edge of a cliff. Below them, the land stretched out into the distance, rolling hills and forests fading into the horizon. The moon, now partially visible through the clouds, cast a pale light over the scene.
Sallie stepped forward, his eyes scanning the landscape with a critical gaze. This would be their staging ground, their place to regroup, to plan, to train in secret. Far from the watchful eyes of Mondstadt, far from Jean's reach.
"This is where it begins," Sallie said quietly, turning to face his knights. His voice was calm, but there was a fire burning beneath the surface. "From here, we'll make Mondstadt what it should be—a city strong enough to defend itself, a city that doesn't need to rely on mercy or diplomacy to survive."
Astrid and Valencia exchanged a glance, their expressions resolute. Around them, the other knights stood silently, their eyes fixed on Sallie, awaiting his command.
"We're with you," Astrid said, her voice steady. "Whatever it takes."
Sallie nodded, his gaze hardening. "Good. Because there's no going back now."
As they trudged toward the city outskirts, Sallie felt the familiar tension creeping up his spine, the kind that always followed moments like this. The air was thick with the scent of salt and earth, mingling with the faint breeze off the ocean. Knights were scattered around him, their polished armor reflecting the late afternoon sun, but their presence wasn't as reassuring as it might've been a few days ago. Sallie's jaw clenched involuntarily.
There was a ripple of movement ahead, and Sallie's gut twisted before he even saw them. The Honorary Knight and Paimon appeared in the middle of the path, sudden and unwavering. Paimon's small form hovered in the air, her wings fluttering sharply as if agitated. Her wide eyes flicked between Sallie and the assembled knights, her expression darkening with each glance.
"Sallie, we need to talk," Paimon said, her voice carrying an unusual firmness. There was no anger, but there was something steely beneath her words.
Sallie's brow furrowed, though he quickly smoothed his expression, letting an easy smile slip into place as he tipped his hat. "You two got the wrong idea," he said smoothly, his tone casual, as if they were merely running into each other on a pleasant stroll. "We're not up to anything reckless. Believe me, I've learned my lesson. Just cleaning up the mess I made with all these supplies."
He gestured toward the crates stacked on carts behind him. There were several, filled to the brim with weapons, rations, and medical kits, all collected hastily in the past weeks during his efforts to arm the rogue factions hidden throughout Mondstadt. A weight hung in the air, and Sallie watched the Honorary Knight closely for a reaction, keeping his own heartbeat steady.
Paimon crossed her arms, hovering a little closer. Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the supplies, but it was clear her suspicion hadn't faded. "Wait, you're saying you're giving up all the weapons you bought? Just like that?" She sounded skeptical, disbelief woven through each word.
Sallie's grin didn't waver. "That's right," he replied smoothly, meeting her eyes, his own sharp beneath the shadow of his hat. "Figured it's time to make amends, you know? The city doesn't need more conflict. Thought I'd return everything we've been stockpiling—put an end to this fiasco."
He shifted, leaning against one of the crates as if it were just a pile of firewood. His heart pounded beneath his calm exterior, but his manner stayed composed, relaxed. Sallie had always been good at playing the part.
Paimon exchanged a glance with the Honorary Knight, her wings fluttering nervously. "I dunno... It's hard to believe you'd just give all this up so easily."
The Honorary Knight, however, remained silent, studying Sallie's face. Sallie didn't mind. Silence was often more useful than words. The Honorary Knight wasn't the type to speak rashly, and Sallie respected that. He also knew the knight's trust in Jean ran deep, and Jean trusted him—at least for now.
Sallie shifted again, pushing away from the crate. "Look, I get it. I've made some bad decisions. But the point is, I'm trying to set things right. What do you say? Give me a hand loading these onto the ship?" He gestured toward the docked vessel in the distance, its sails catching the breeze. "I'd appreciate it."
The Honorary Knight's gaze lingered on Sallie a moment longer before nodding, albeit reluctantly. There was no clear sign of a trap, no imminent danger in sight. Sallie's tone had been too level, too reasonable for immediate suspicion. And yet, Paimon still floated beside the Honorary Knight, her distrust palpable in the air around her.
"You better not be tricking us, Sallie," Paimon warned, pointing a tiny finger at him. "If this is another one of your schemes, Jean's not going to be happy. And neither are we!"
Sallie raised his hands in mock surrender, chuckling under his breath. "No tricks, I promise," he said, stepping aside as the Honorary Knight and a few of his knights began examining the crates more closely.
His eyes flickered for just a second, catching the gaze of one of his loyalists—Astrid, a tall woman, Sallie's loyal retainer with A subtle nod passed between them, almost imperceptible. The plan was still in motion.
As the Honorary Knight lifted one of the lids from a crate, Sallie feigned disinterest, leaning against the nearby wall and fiddling with the brim of his hat. Inside the crate were neatly packed weapons, each one wrapped carefully in cloth. The Honorary Knight's fingers brushed over the handle of a sword, his brows furrowing slightly.
Paimon's voice broke the silence, sharp and uneasy. "That's a lot of weapons… What were you even planning to do with all this stuff, Sallie?"
Sallie glanced up, giving her a measured look. "What's done is done. Doesn't matter now, does it? All that matters is we're getting rid of them before things get any worse." He kept his voice steady, though a part of him bristled at the interrogation.
The Honorary Knight nodded again, accepting the explanation for now, and motioned for his knights to start securing the crates to the carts. Sallie watched them, carefully masking his true thoughts.
In the back of his mind, he knew Jean's trust in the Honorary Knight was his best weapon. She'd spoken so highly of the knight, and Sallie had always known how to exploit the faith others placed in people they respected. It was a delicate balance, one that required precision. He couldn't overplay his hand too soon.
As his loyalists moved to assist the knights, Sallie stepped aside, watching them from the corner of his eye. Valencia moved efficiently, her face blank as she worked alongside the others. Sallie allowed himself a small smile. Valencia understood the stakes. He always did.
When enough crates had been loaded, Sallie gave another subtle signal. It was nothing more than a flick of his fingers, barely noticeable, but it was enough for those who were watching for it. His loyalists, scattered among the crowd, began positioning themselves strategically—out of sight, but not too far from the action. Everything was still calm, everything looked ordinary, but the tension had started to coil beneath the surface.
Sallie adjusted his hat again, eyes gleaming. This was the moment he'd been waiting for.
Paimon, unaware of the subtle shift in the air, floated closer to the Honorary Knight. "Well… I guess we should get these to the docks before sunset. The sooner we're rid of them, the better." Her voice was less suspicious now, though traces of wariness still lingered.
The Honorary Knight gave a small nod, his expression unreadable as usual, though his gaze briefly flickered toward Sallie. Sallie met it head-on, giving him another easy smile.
"Agreed," Sallie said, his voice light. "Let's not waste any more time."
As they moved toward the docks, the tension in Sallie's chest tightened, anticipation growing with each step. He'd played his part perfectly so far, and everything was falling into place. The Honorary Knight and his team were none the wiser, too focused on the surface details to see what was brewing underneath.
As the small group neared the harbor, the salty air grew thicker, carrying the distant cries of seagulls and the faint creaking of ships swaying in the water. Sallie's boots scuffed against the cobblestones as he walked beside the Honorary Knight, maintaining an easy, conversational air. His every word was measured, and the smile he wore was perfectly disarming. But beneath the calm facade, his mind raced, calculating the next steps with precision.
Without turning his head, Sallie gave a discreet hand signal to Astrid, one of his most trusted loyalists trailing behind. The flick of his fingers was subtle, designed to pass unnoticed by anyone unfamiliar with their code.
Astrid, a sturdy woman with short, cropped hair, caught the signal immediately. She nodded, her dark eyes sharp as they scanned the surrounding area. Beside her, Valencia, Maurice, Athena, and Esteban—the core group of female knights Sallie had recruited—moved into position. Each one of them knew exactly what to do. Their loyalty to Sallie was unquestionable, and that loyalty had been tested through fire and blood over the past weeks. They had seen the city's unrest, felt the weight of its tension, and now, they were ready to push things to the next stage.
Sallie's gaze flicked toward them briefly, and he could see the quiet determination in their faces. They all nodded in understanding, their eyes locking with his in brief moments of silent communication. The plan was in motion, and they were synchronized, like pieces on a chessboard moving toward their final play.
He glanced at the Honorary Knight walking beside him. The Knight's expression remained neutral, but Sallie could sense the unease beneath the calm exterior. The Honorary Knight hadn't fully dropped their guard, which was understandable—after all, Sallie's recent activities hadn't exactly been above reproach. Still, the Knight seemed cautiously satisfied with his cooperation so far. The crates were loaded, the weapons returned, and from the outside, it seemed as though Sallie was doing everything by the book.
Good, Sallie thought. Let them believe that.
Paimon, floating at the Knight's shoulder, shot Sallie an occasional wary look. The tiny companion was always the more suspicious of the two, her eyes darting between Sallie and his loyalists with thinly veiled distrust. But Paimon wasn't the threat here. The Honorary Knight was the one who held Jean's trust—Jean, the acting Grand Master, whose influence in Mondstadt stretched far and wide. Sallie knew that Jean trusted the Knight completely, and that trust was Sallie's most dangerous tool.
He leaned in slightly, speaking to his loyalists in a voice so low it barely carried past the sound of their footsteps. "Jean trusts this one too much," Sallie muttered, keeping his eyes forward. "We play along until it's time. Then, we make our move."
Astrid's lips twitched in the faintest of smirks. "Understood," she whispered back, her voice barely audible. Her hand drifted to the hilt of her rifle, but she didn't draw it. Not yet.
Valencia, who walked just behind Sallie, cast a glance toward the ship docked at the harbor. It was a large vessel, its white sails billowing softly in the breeze. The crew, oblivious to what was unfolding, went about their tasks, securing ropes and loading crates with the efficiency of those used to routine labor. Valencia's hand brushed against the hilt of her revolver, her fingers itching with the anticipation of what was to come.
Maurice, ever the strategist, moved alongside Athena, her tall frame towering over most of the knights present. Her eyes scanned the area, noting escape routes, blind spots, and where the guards had been stationed. Athena gave a subtle nod as if confirming the observations Maurice had made. They were ready.
The Honorary Knight, still walking beside Sallie, glanced over at him.
"You're being oddly cooperative," Paimon said, voice even, though the words carried a hint of suspicion.
Sallie chuckled lightly, tipping his hat back as he turned to face the Knight, his eyes gleaming with faux sincerity. "Like I said, I've learned my lesson. No point stirring up trouble, especially when the city's already tense."
He could feel the weight of the Honorary Knight's gaze on him, probing, trying to discern any hidden motives. Sallie didn't flinch. He'd spent years perfecting this mask—the mask of the repentant, the one who had finally seen reason. He knew how to play the part. And right now, that part was crucial.
"We'll see," Paimon muttered, folding her arms as she floated a bit closer to the Knight. She wasn't buying it, but it didn't matter. Paimon could yell all she wanted, but the Knight was the one who made the decisions, and Sallie had enough faith in his own charm to know how to nudge those decisions in his favor.
They reached the dock, the water lapping gently against the wooden posts as the ship swayed slightly with the tide. The crew stood ready to take the crates on board, unaware that anything was amiss. Sallie stepped forward, his boots clunking softly against the dock's planks.
"Well, this is it," he said, his tone casual. "Once these are on the ship, we can put this whole mess behind us."
The Honorary Knight nodded, watching as the crew began to offload the crates from the carts. A few knights assisted, but Sallie noticed how carefully the Honorary Knight watched everything, as if expecting something to go wrong. A flicker of doubt crossed the Knight's features, but it was quickly pushed down.
Sallie's eyes gleamed. The Honorary Knight could sense it, but not clearly enough to act.
As the final crates were being loaded, Sallie caught sight of Astrid again, who was now positioned near the edge of the dock. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, awaiting his next move. A low hum of anticipation buzzed through Sallie's veins. The timing had to be perfect.
He moved closer to the Honorary Knight, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "You know, I've been thinking… maybe I could talk to Jean myself. Clear the air. It might help smooth things over if she hears it from me personally."
The honorary knight turned to him,
Paimon expression thoughtful. "Jean values honesty. If you're sincere, I'm sure she'd listen."
Sallie smiled again, though this time it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, I'm nothing if not sincere."
At that moment, a shout went up from one of the crew members on the ship. "Loose crate!" the man yelled, his voice tinged with panic.
Sallie didn't miss a beat. He turned sharply toward the noise, though his hand subtly flicked behind his back, giving the final signal to Astrid and the others. The moment of distraction was all they needed.
Astrid moved swiftly, her large sized revolver flashing out as she knocked aside one of the knight's spears, disarming them before they could react. Valencia and Maurice were already in motion, drawing their rifles as they fell upon the Honorary Knight's forces. Esteban, quick and silent as always, moved to block off the path leading back to the city.
Paimon shrieked, darting up into the air. "What the—? Sallie!"
The Honorary Knight reacted instantly, drawing their blade, but it was too late. Sallie's loyalists had already surrounded them, guns drawn and eyes cold.
Sallie stepped back, arms crossed, his smile widening as the chaos unfolded around him. He tilted his head toward the Knight. "Like I said… I'm nothing if not sincere. Just not in the way you hoped."
The Honorary Knight's eyes narrowed, but Sallie merely tipped his hat again. His plan was unfolding exactly as intended. Jean's trust had been a powerful weapon, but now it was time to wield it against her, and the Honorary Knight was just the first piece to fall.
The mood shifted instantly as the loyalist knights, including Valencia, Maurice, and Athena, drew their revolvers, leveling them at the non-loyalist crew members, the Honorary Knight, and Paimon. The metallic click of hammers being cocked cut through the salty air, freezing the crew and knights in place. Eyes widened, hands twitched nervously toward rifles, but Sallie's loyalists moved with the precise coordination of those who had planned this for weeks.
The Honorary Knight's gaze snapped to the barrel of a revolver aimed at their chest, then shifted to Sallie, standing just a few paces away, his smile all but gone now, replaced by a calculating expression. Behind him, Astrid stood silently, her hand on her gun, eyes locked onto the knight in front of her. There was no room for missteps.
"Tell me something," Sallie began, his voice low, controlled. He took a step forward, the casual swagger he'd worn like a cloak slipping away. Now, there was only cold precision. "Why didn't you take the chance to kill the Raiden Shogun when you had it? Why let the trial drag on?" His eyes flickered, the sharpness of his words cutting through the tension like a blade. "A criminal like Kujou Takayuki… shouldn't justice be swift?"
The question hung in the air, like the weight of a sword poised to drop.
Paimon flitted closer to the Honorary Knight, her small figure trembling slightly in the tense standoff. "W-well, there's a lot more to consider than just... y'know, killing someone!" she stammered, eyes darting between the drawn revolvers and the grim faces of the loyalists. "The Raiden Shogun's situation is complicated, and the trial hasn't finished because—"
"Because what?" Sallie cut her off sharply, his eyes narrowing. The hard edge to his voice sent a ripple through the group. The crew, already outnumbered and outgunned, shifted uncomfortably as the pressure mounted. "Because the higher-ups are too soft to do what needs to be done? That's the problem with this place." He shook his head, the bitterness in his voice thickening. "Too much mercy, not enough justice."
The Honorary Knight's frown deepened. They hadn't drawn their blade yet, not with so many guns trained on them, but their body tensed, ready. The years of training in Mondstadt's ranks had prepared them for conflict—but Sallie's words hit a nerve, striking at the heart of the dilemma they had been wrestling with for months.
"You don't understand—" Paimon began, but Sallie's next words silenced them.
"Oh, I understand perfectly." Sallie's voice dropped to a cold whisper as he leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto the Honorary Knight's. His breath was barely a murmur over the sound of the waves lapping against the dock, but it held the weight of a hammer about to fall. "You're just a witness to all of this. But us? We're the ones who act."
For a brief moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them—Sallie, standing there with the quiet menace of a man who knew he held all the cards, and the Honorary Knight, hands hovering near their sword but hesitant to draw with guns aimed at their head. Paimon, usually quick to speak, was unusually silent, her wide eyes flicking from Sallie to the loyalists, her small hands balled into fists.
The Honorary Knight met Sallie's gaze, the fire in their eyes igniting, though their voice remained level.
Paimon spoke "Justice isn't about taking lives because it's convenient. That's what separates us from people like you. We believe in more than just vengeance."
Sallie chuckled darkly, straightening. "Is that what Jean's been feeding you? The idea that Mondstadt can thrive on ideals alone?" He gestured lazily with his hand, as though casting aside the very concept of mercy. "Look around you. Mondstadt is fragile—held together by nothing but rules that no one's willing to break for the greater good. That's why Jean's been blind to this city's real needs. It's why you won't be able to stop what's coming."
Athena, standing nearby, took a step closer, her revolver aimed squarely at one of the non-loyalist knights who had shifted uneasily. "Better listen to the man," she said, her voice a smooth, dangerous purr. "He's offering you a chance to walk away before things get messy."
Valencia, standing next to her, sneered as she trained her revolver on the Honorary Knight. "Or don't. It doesn't really matter. The outcome's the same."
Maurice gave a mocking bow toward the crew members, who were now standing frozen in place. "The ship sails with or without you. Your call."
The Honorary Knight's hand slowly moved toward their blade, but not in an aggressive way. Their fingers brushed the hilt as they glanced around at the loyalists.
"This isn't about justice for you. This is about control. You want power—and you're willing to tear Mondstadt apart to get it." Paimon said
Sallie's grin widened, though his eyes were cold. "Power? No. I don't care about control. But I do care about Mondstadt's future. I care about not letting this city fall into the hands of weak, indecisive leaders who can't see the bigger picture."
He waved his hand, and Valencia pressed the barrel of her gun harder against the head of a nearby crew member, who flinched visibly. "This is bigger than you. It's bigger than Jean, or your sense of justice."
Paimon finally found her voice, hovering protectively near the Honorary Knight. "You don't get to decide what happens to Mondstadt! This is... this is madness!" Her small voice cracked with fear and anger.
Sallie's expression darkened, all pretense of charm fading. "No, Paimon. What's madness is letting Mondstadt burn from within because its leaders are too scared to act." His voice dropped again, laced with venom. "It's time for real justice. The kind that doesn't wait for permission."
He stepped back, his hand raised again, the signal for his loyalists to make their move. Guns remained trained on the group, fingers twitching near the triggers.
Astrid's voice cut through the tense air. "What's it gonna be, Knight? You willing to bleed for those ideals of yours, or are you ready to let go and see things the way they really are?"
The Honorary Knight stood rigid, the weight of the moment pressing down on their shoulders. The crew members looked to them for a decision, their lives hanging in the balance. Paimon hovered closer, her voice barely a whisper. "We can't... we can't let him get away with this."
The Knight's gaze swept over the loyalist knights, their faces hard with conviction, and then back to Sallie, who watched them with cold, calculating eyes.
Without warning, Sallie's hand shot out like a viper, seizing the Honorary Knight by the collar and yanking them forward. The Honorary Knight barely had time to react before Sallie slammed them into the side of the docked ship with a brutal thud. Wood groaned under the impact, and the knight's breath left them in a sharp gasp. The sudden violence startled everyone nearby, even the loyalists, who paused momentarily, though they quickly recovered, surrounding the scene with grim efficiency.
Paimon screamed, darting to the side, her tiny form trembling with panic. "Please stop this! Sallie, please!" she cried, her voice cracking with desperation as she hovered helplessly, her hands outstretched toward the knight.
Sallie didn't even glance in her direction. His focus was locked on the Honorary Knight, who struggled against his iron grip, fingers clawing at Sallie's arm. The Honorary Knight's strength was formidable, but Sallie's was fueled by something darker—an unshakable conviction, one that had turned his determination into something far more dangerous.
Sallie's face remained eerily calm, his eyes like frozen steel as he spoke, his voice low but edged with venom. "I've got plans, traveler," he said, tightening his hold on the knight's collar. "You might be Jean's little honorary lapdog or the hero of Liyue, but that doesn't mean a damn thing to me." He yanked the knight forward slightly, slamming them against the ship again for emphasis. "Jean, the higher-ups—they think way too highly of you. They don't see what's really happening. They're too busy holding hands with criminals to realize the world's changing."
The Honorary Knight, dazed but conscious, tried to regain their footing, but Sallie's grip was relentless. They raised their arm, ready to shove him off, but before they could act, Sallie's fist shot forward, slamming into the side of their face with brutal force. The world tilted sharply for the Honorary Knight, a burst of white-hot pain exploding in their skull before darkness began to creep into the edges of their vision.
"Sallie! No!" Paimon screamed, her voice high and frantic. She darted toward the Honorary Knight, but Astrid was faster. The loyalist knight lunged forward, catching Paimon in one swift motion. She clamped a hand over Paimon's mouth, silencing her protests as Paimon's small form squirmed in her grasp, tears brimming in her wide eyes.
"Shhh," Astrid whispered, her voice chillingly soft. "This isn't for you."
The Honorary Knight's legs gave out beneath them as they slumped against the side of the ship. Their sword clattered uselessly to the ground. Sallie stood over them, his chest rising and falling with slow, controlled breaths, his fist still clenched as he looked down at the unconscious figure at his feet.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Sallie's lips as he surveyed the scene—his loyalists standing in perfect formation, the Honorary Knight unconscious, and Paimon trapped, her protests muffled as she struggled futilely against Astrid's grip. Everything was falling into place.
"You're just a witness," Sallie muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he crouched down beside the Honorary Knight's motionless form. "Not us. Lady Vennessa, Lord Varka, the Anemo Archon—they know that, too. They acted when Mondstadt needed them most. They didn't just watch."
His eyes flicked toward the ship, where the crew members stood frozen, fear written across their faces. None of them dared move. The loyalists had their guns trained on everyone—non-loyalist knights, sailors, even bystanders who had gotten too close. No one was going to interfere.
Sallie leaned closer to the Honorary Knight, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "You should've gone back to Liyue when you had the chance," he hissed, his words dripping with contempt. "You don't belong here. You're too soft. Too afraid to do what's necessary."
He stood slowly, his gaze still locked on the Honorary Knight. For a moment, there was silence, save for the distant sound of waves crashing against the dock and the soft creak of the ship's ropes straining in the breeze. Then, with a sharp motion, Sallie stepped back, turning toward his loyalists.
Astrid still held Paimon tight, her eyes sharp as she watched Sallie for the next command. Maurice and Valencia stood by the crew, their revolvers steady in their hands, ready to fire at the slightest sign of resistance. Athena and Esteban had secured the perimeter, ensuring no one could get in—or out—without their say-so.
Sallie nodded once, satisfied. "Load the rest of the crates," he ordered, his voice cold and authoritative. "And prepare to set sail."
Valencia glanced toward the unconscious Honorary Knight, then back at Sallie. "What about them?" she asked, her gun still trained on one of the crew members.
Sallie didn't even look back at the Knight. "Leave them," he said dismissively. "They've already served their purpose."
"But what about Jean? She'll send more after us once she finds out—"
"Let her," Sallie interrupted sharply, his voice hardening. "Jean's a relic. She won't be able to stop what's coming." He turned toward the horizon, where the setting sun was casting the last of its golden light over the waters. "No one will."
Maurice and Athena exchanged a glance, then moved quickly, rounding up the remaining crates and hauling them onto the ship. The rest of the loyalists fell in line, their movements efficient and well-practiced. It wouldn't be long before they were ready to set sail, leaving Mondstadt behind—and the Honorary Knight along with it.
Paimon struggled weakly in Astrid's grasp, her eyes filled with helpless fury as she watched Sallie's back. "You're… you're making a mistake!" she yelled, her voice muffled but still desperate. "Mondstadt's not yours to—"
Astrid pressed her hand tighter over Paimon's mouth, silencing her completely. "Hush now," she said coldly. "It's too late for you to change anything."
Sallie cast one last glance toward the dock as his loyalists began boarding the ship. The Honorary Knight lay crumpled on the ground, unmoving, a symbol of everything Sallie despised about Mondstadt's current leadership—too focused on mercy, too afraid to act. It was time for something new. Something stronger.
As the ship's sails caught the wind, Sallie's smirk returned, but this time it was darker, edged with triumph. The world was changing, and Mondstadt would soon realize that its old ways were crumbling.
"Let's go," he said, his voice carrying over the water. "We have a city to reshape."
a small group of male non-loyalist knights crouched, watching in growing horror as Sallie's rebellion unfolded before them. Their breaths came in quiet, shallow gasps, their eyes locked on the brutal scene playing out by the dock.
The moment Sallie knocked the Honorary Knight out cold, the shock rippled through the non-loyalist knights. One of them, a young knight named Alaric, began to step forward, instinctively moving to intervene. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white, the urge to stop the madness overpowering his reason.
But before he could take more than a step, a loyalist soldier appeared out of the darkness, revolver drawn and leveled at Alaric's chest. The soldier's face was cold, his eyes narrowed with dangerous intent. "Stay put," he growled, his voice low and full of menace. "You didn't see anything. We handle this our way."
Alaric froze, his heart pounding. He glanced back at his comrades, their faces pale and stricken. They, too, had their hands on their weapons, but none dared move. Fear flickered in their eyes, not just of the revolvers aimed at them but of what Sallie and his loyalists had become—ruthless, unrelenting. The situation had spiraled far beyond what any of them had anticipated.
Their loyalty to Jean, to the Knights of Favonius, pulled them in one direction. Every fiber of their being wanted to rush in, to stop this madness and defend the Honorary Knight. But fear of Sallie, his calculated cruelty, and the growing power of his loyalist faction held them frozen in place.
Alaric's chest tightened as he looked past the soldier's revolver and back at the scene unfolding near the dock. Paimon was lying on the cold stone floor, struggling against the ropes binding her tiny form. Her muffled cries for help pierced through the silent night, but Astrid loomed over her, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. The loyalist knight lifted her boot and stomped down, pinning Paimon to the ground.
Paimon's shriek was heart-wrenching. "No! Stop! Please!" she cried, her small body trembling under the weight of Astrid's boot.
The non-loyalists shifted uncomfortably in the shadows, rage boiling beneath their skin, but the revolvers kept them at bay. They were warriors, sworn to protect Mondstadt, but this? Watching as their comrades descended into brutality, betraying everything the Knights of Favonius stood for—it was unbearable. Yet, they couldn't act. Not without signing their own death warrants.
The divide within the Knights had never been clearer. The betrayal was real, and now it had spiraled far beyond just words. It was no longer a question of loyalty or politics—it was blood and violence, a dangerous rebellion festering in the heart of Mondstadt. The winds of chaos were blowing strong, threatening to tear the city apart.
Sallie, oblivious to the non-loyalists lurking in the shadows, knelt beside the unconscious body of the Honorary Knight. His hand hovered above them for a brief moment, as if in a gesture of pity or perhaps even guilt. His expression, normally hard and calculating, softened for a split second. He glanced up at the sky, the stars just beginning to emerge in the twilight above.
He muttered under his breath, his voice just loud enough to carry in the stillness of the night. "Lady Vennessa… Lord Barbatos… Anemo Archon, I know you may not understand why I'm doing this. But the world's changing. Mondstadt is changing. I'm doing what must be done to protect it. To ensure its future." He bowed his head briefly, as if offering a prayer for forgiveness.
The non-loyalist knights, still hidden, exchanged uneasy glances. Is this really what Sallie believes? Alaric wondered, his mind spinning. Does he truly think he's saving Mondstadt by doing this?
But before any of them could dwell on the thought, Sallie straightened, the softness in his expression vanishing as quickly as it had come. His eyes hardened, the smirk returning to his lips as he looked down at the Honorary Knight and Paimon.
"Leave them here," he ordered, his voice sharp and final. "Tie them up. Let the tides decide what happens to them. Mondstadt doesn't need weak leaders who can't see what's coming."
The loyalists moved quickly, following Sallie's command with cold efficiency. Ropes were wound tightly around the Honorary Knight's arms and legs, securing them to the hard stone floor of Dornman Port. Paimon, still squirming under Astrid's boot, was quickly bound as well, her wings tied down, leaving her helpless.
Sallie casting one final glance at the Honorary Knight. His voice was filled with bitterness, anger still simmering just below the surface.
Satisfied that his orders were being carried out, Sallie stepped back and gave a sharp nod to his loyalists. The ship was ready, its sails catching the evening breeze, and the crates of weapons were secure. It was time to leave Mondstadt behind, at least for now.
As the loyalists began boarding the ship, the non-loyalist knights remained hidden, paralyzed by indecision. They watched as the ship pulled away from the dock, carrying Sallie and his loyalists into the night, leaving the Honorary Knight and Paimon bound and unconscious on the cold stone floor of the port.
The divide within the Knights of Favonius had never been so stark, so painfully obvious. The winds of rebellion were blowing strong, and Mondstadt stood on the edge of chaos, its future uncertain.
Alaric clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as the ship disappeared into the horizon. "We have to do something," he whispered, his voice shaking with fury. "We can't just leave them here."
Another non-loyalist, a grizzled older knight named Garen, placed a firm hand on Alaric's shoulder. "We will," he said quietly, his voice filled with grim resolve. "But we can't take them head-on. Not yet. We need to regroup. Get help. Jean needs to know what's happened."
Alaric nodded, though the weight of their inaction sat heavy in his gut. The betrayal of their comrades had cut deep, and the realization that Mondstadt was on the brink of collapse haunted them all.
As the ship sailed smoothly out of Dornman Port, the air around it seemed to hum with anticipation. The once peaceful waters of Mondstadt's harbor now bore witness to a rebellion in full motion, a silent departure under the veil of night. Sallie stood at the prow of the ship, his eyes fixed on the horizon, where the distant shores of Ritou awaited. Behind him, his loyalists moved swiftly and efficiently, preparing the ship for the journey ahead.
Astrid stood near the mainmast, her eyes scanning the distant coastline of Mondstadt fading into the distance. The female loyalists—Valencia, Maurice, Athena, and Esteban—were scattered across the deck, checking the equipment, securing the crates filled with weapons, and ensuring everything was in order for what was to come.
Their mission was no longer just about Mondstadt. It was about justice—or at least, the version of justice Sallie had decided upon. And now, their eyes were set on Ritou, where the criminals behind the Vision Hunt Decree had fled after the fall of Inazuma's tyrannical rule. The architects of that suffering, the ones who had manipulated power from the shadows, had escaped judgment for too long. Sallie's resolve was clear: those who had caused so much pain would finally face the consequences.
The ship sailed quietly out of Dornman Port, its sails billowing as it caught the night wind, heading toward the distant shores of Ritou. On board, Sallie stood at the bow, his hands gripping the railing as the waves crashed against the hull. Behind him, the loyalists moved about the deck, securing the crates of supplies and weapons they had taken from Mondstadt.
Astrid, Valencia, Maurice, Athena, Esteban, and the other female loyalists remained vigilant, their eyes scanning the horizon and the crew around them. They had committed to this course, to following Sallie's vision of justice, and now there was no turning back. The weight of what they had done—betraying their fellow knights, leaving the Honorary Knight and Paimon behind, bound on the cold stone floor of the port—hung in the air, but none of them spoke of it. The decision had been made. Mondstadt was behind them now.
Astrid approached Sallie, her boots thudding softly against the wooden deck as she stepped up beside him. "We're well on our way to Ritou," she said, her voice steady. "The ship's holding steady, and we'll arrive by dawn if the winds stay with us."
Sallie nodded, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "Good. Once we're in Ritou, we'll finally be able to deliver the justice Mondstadt and Inazuma deserve." His voice was cold, resolute. The calmness with which he spoke made it clear that he believed in the righteousness of their mission, that what they were doing was necessary. There was no room for doubt in his mind.
Astrid glanced at him, the moonlight catching the sharp lines of her face. "You think they'll be waiting for us? The people who supported the Vision Hunt Decree?"
Sallie's expression darkened. "They'll be there. They always hide behind others, but they can't run from justice forever. The Vision Hunt Decree may have ended, but the people responsible—those who manipulated everything from the shadows—they're still out there. And they'll answer for it."
Astrid nodded, her eyes narrowing. "Kujou Takayuki, the Tenryou Commission, and anyone else who orchestrated that decree… They thought they could just walk away after all the lives they ruined. Not anymore. We'll make sure they're held accountable."
"We're not just delivering justice for Inazuma. This is for Mondstadt too. For the people who've been too weak to act. Jean, the Honorary Knight—they don't understand the kind of strength it takes to make hard decisions. But we do. Lady Vennessa knew it. Lord Varka knew it. And now, we're going to make sure the rest of the world understands it too."
Behind them, the female loyalists gathered in quiet conversation, their eyes sharp, their weapons polished and ready. They had followed Sallie out of loyalty, out of a belief that their actions would protect Mondstadt, but now, as the distance grew between them and their homeland, their thoughts turned toward what awaited them in Ritou.
Valencia, a seasoned knight with years of experience under her belt, leaned against the railing, watching the stars above. "Do you think the Shogunate will even care about what we're doing?" she asked, her voice low.
Maurice, who stood beside her, shrugged. "They'll care if we make them care. Kujou Takayuki might be in hiding now, but we'll flush him out. Once we have him, we can start unraveling the whole thing."
Athena, always practical, tightened the strap on her holster. "If they resist, we fight. Simple as that. We've got the weapons, we've got the numbers, and we've got Sallie. We didn't leave Mondstadt behind just to fail in Inazuma."
Esteban, the youngest of the group, remained quiet, but her eyes were bright with determination. She had joined the loyalists because she believed in their cause, and though the path ahead was uncertain, she had no doubts about their mission.
As the ship continued to sail toward Ritou, the distant lights of the island began to appear on the horizon. The closer they got, the more the tension on board grew. They knew that once they docked, there would be no more hiding, no more planning in secret. They would be confronting the remnants of the Vision Hunt Decree head-on.
Sallie turned to face his loyalists, his voice cutting through the night. "We're nearing Ritou. Remember why we're here. We're not just knights anymore—we're the only ones who see the truth, the only ones willing to do what needs to be done. The Shogunate might think they're safe, but they're not. We'll find the ones responsible for the Vision Hunt Decree, and we'll make sure they pay for every life they destroyed."
"We don't have much time, It's only a matter of time before the Honorary Knight and Paimon intervene. If they make it out of Dornman Port, they'll come for us, and we'll lose the element of surprise."
The women nodded, grim-faced but resolved. They knew the Honorary Knight's reputation—the hero of Mondstadt, Liyue, and Inazuma. The thought of facing them wasn't taken lightly. But they had chosen this path. There was no turning back now.
Sallie continued, his voice growing darker. "And the worst-case scenario? They'll protect Kujou Takayuki, the man responsible for the Vision Hunt Decree. The one who destroyed so many lives in Inazuma. He's still hiding in Inazuma City, locked up, sure, but that doesn't mean he's out of reach. The Shogunate is keeping him there, shielding him from the justice he deserves. And if we don't act now, we'll lose the chance to make him pay for what he did."
He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. The loyalists shifted slightly, their eyes narrowing as they absorbed the weight of their mission. In their minds, Kujou Takayuki's crimes—the forced confiscation of visions, the suffering of countless Inazumans—were unforgivable. The Vision Hunt Decree might have been abolished, but the wounds it left behind were still fresh. For Sallie and his loyalists, justice hadn't been served. Not yet.
"We need a plan," Sallie said, his voice firm, a hint of urgency creeping in. "We can't just charge into Inazuma City. Not with the Shogunate's forces crawling all over the place. We need to be smart, or we'll be caught before we even get close to Takayuki."
He stepped forward, his boots thudding against the wooden deck as he addressed the group with more intensity. "First things first: disguises. Once we reach Ritou, we'll need to blend in. Inazuma's on edge since the decree ended, and the Shogunate's eyes are everywhere. We can't afford to draw attention. We'll split into small groups, dress as travelers or traders, and slip into Ritou quietly."
The women nodded in agreement, murmurs of understanding rippling through the group. Disguises would help them move without raising alarms.
Sallie continued, laying out the next phase of the plan. "Once we're in Ritou, we can't stay for long. Too much scrutiny. We'll head north—toward the more remote areas of Narukami Island. We'll set up a makeshift camp in the northern forests, far enough from the city and prying eyes. It'll give us time to regroup, plan, and stay out of sight."
Astrid stepped forward, her eyes sharp. "What about an escape route? If things go wrong in Inazuma City, we'll need a way out. Fast."
Sallie met her gaze, nodding. "Exactly. Once we set up camp, we'll scout the area and find the best escape routes. We'll need at least two—one by land, and one by sea. If we have to retreat, we need options. Boats will be hidden at the northern shore, ready to take us to safer waters if the Shogunate forces close in."
Valencia, arms crossed and eyes thoughtful, chimed in. "And what about Takayuki? How do we get to him? The Shogunate won't just let anyone near him, especially not us."
Sallie's expression hardened. "We infiltrate the city under the cover of night. Small groups. We move fast and quiet. We find where he's being held, and we deliver justice." His voice dropped, low and cold. "No hesitation. He answers for what he's done. Once we have him, we get out as quickly as we came in. The longer we stay in Inazuma City, the more danger we're in. We need to move like shadows—strike hard, and disappear before they know what hit them."
Maurice, always the realist, asked the question on everyone's mind. "And if the Honorary Knight shows up? They'll try to stop us, you know that."
Sallie's jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with something darker. "If they intervene, we deal with them. I won't hesitate to stop anyone who stands in our way. Not even the Honorary Knight." His voice carried a dangerous edge. "They've been coddled by Jean and the higher-ups for too long. They don't understand that sometimes, justice requires more than mercy."
The loyalists exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. They all knew the Honorary Knight's power, the influence they held not just in Mondstadt but across the nations. But Sallie's resolve was ironclad. The mission came first.
"We won't fail," Athena said quietly, her voice filled with certainty. "We'll bring him to justice."
Sallie nodded, his expression resolute. "Good. Once we've completed the mission, we'll make our escape back to Ritou. From there, we regroup, assess our options, and leave Inazuma as quickly as possible. We can't stay. The Shogunate will be on high alert, and we'll have drawn too much attention."
He stepped back, his gaze sweeping over the fifty loyalists gathered on the deck. "Remember, this is bigger than us. This is about ensuring justice is served—not just for Mondstadt, but for Inazuma too. The world is changing, and if we don't act, no one else will."
The loyalists straightened, their resolve clear in the way they held their weapons, their eyes gleaming with determination. They had followed Sallie this far, and they were ready for whatever came next.
--
Back at Dornman Port, the once-bustling harbor had quieted in the wake of Sallie's departure. The ship carrying the loyalists had vanished over the horizon, leaving behind the faint creaking of abandoned docks and the soft lapping of water against the stone. But in the midst of that stillness, a different scene was unfolding—one that sent ripples of shock through the onlookers gathering nearby.
The Honorary Knight and Paimon lay tied up on the cold, hard ground, their bodies limp and their mouths covered with strips of thick tape. The ropes binding their arms and legs were tight, digging painfully into their skin, and the Knight's vision swam as they fought to regain full consciousness.
A crowd had formed, their eyes wide with disbelief at the sight before them. Whispers ran through the gathered townsfolk like wildfire, and confusion mixed with fear in every hushed conversation. The Hero of Liyue, the one who had fought alongside Jean and the other knights to protect the city—now bound and helpless, displayed in front of them like common prisoners.
"Is that really... the Honorary Knight?" a young woman in the crowd whispered, her voice trembling with shock.
"It can't be," muttered a man beside her, shaking his head. "What happened? Who would do this?"
Several knights of Favonius pushed through the crowd, their expressions grim as they took in the scene. Some had their hands on their swords, eyes scanning the area for signs of a threat. The shock of seeing their once-trusted hero and their floating companion tied up, battered, and humiliated in front of the public was too much for many of them to process.
"What is the meaning of this?" one of the knights, a man named Einar, stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he approached the unconscious form of the Honorary Knight. His tone was thick with anger, but beneath it, there was a tremor of disbelief.
Alaric, the young non-loyalist knight who had been watching from the shadows earlier, finally broke free from his own paralysis and stepped out, waving his arms urgently. "We need to get them to the headquarters! Sallie and his loyalists have fled—this is their doing!"
Paimon, half-conscious and still struggling against her bonds, whimpered as she tried to speak through the tape, her muffled cries lost in the chaos around her. Her wide eyes darted around, pleading for someone to help. But the knights had already moved into action, bending down to untie the ropes that bound the Honorary Knight and Paimon.
"Careful!" Einar warned as they began to work, his eyes filled with concern. "They've been through enough. No sudden moves."
As the ropes finally fell away, the Honorary Knight groaned softly, slowly coming to. Their body ached from the rough treatment, but their mind was already racing to piece together what had happened. The last memory was Sallie's mocking smile and the brutal impact of his fist—the betrayal still fresh, cutting deeper than any wound.
Paimon, finally freed from her restraints, immediately ripped the tape from her mouth with a sharp gasp. She looked around frantically, her voice rising with panic. "Sallie! He's… he's gone! We have to—"
"We know," Alaric interrupted gently, kneeling down beside her and the Knight. "We saw everything. You're safe now, but we need to get you both back to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. Jean needs to know what's happened."
Einar nodded in agreement, his jaw clenched as he rose to his feet. "Sallie's betrayal is deeper than we thought. He's taken his loyalists and fled—he's headed for Inazuma, if the rumors are true. He's planning something... something to do with the Vision Hunt Decree."
At the mention of the decree, the Honorary Knight's eyes snapped open fully, the words cutting through the fog of pain. They had heard whispers of Inazuma's brutal Vision Hunt, of the Raiden Shogun's decree that tore Visions from their wielders in the name of eternity. And now, Sallie's loyalists were heading there? But why? The thought sent a chill through the Knight's body.
Paimon's eyes widened with recognition, her voice rising in alarm. "The Vision Hunt Decree? That's what this is all about? Sallie… he's going after those responsible for it?"
Einar's expression darkened, and he nodded gravely. "From what we've heard, he believes that the Vision Hunt is part of a larger threat. He wants to take the fight to Inazuma, but we don't know the full extent of his plans yet."
Alaric stood, helping the Honorary Knight to their feet, though the Knight was still shaky. "We have to act fast," Alaric urged, his voice filled with urgency. "Sallie and his loyalists are armed and dangerous. Whatever they're planning in Inazuma could lead to more than just rebellion—it could spark a war."
The crowd began to part as the knights of Favonius moved quickly, helping the Honorary Knight and Paimon through the streets, back toward the headquarters. The murmurs of the onlookers followed them, whispers of betrayal, fear, and confusion swirling through the air.