Mr. & Mrs Meropide

Chapter Forty-Eight: Your Resolve

As the boats slowly made their way back to shore, the air was still buzzing with excitement, the crowd chattering about the day's event. The tournament had been a grand spectacle, and the conversations echoed with praise for the combatants and the unforgettable moments of the day.

"I would say this cultural exchange was a success," Nahida said warmly, glancing at the other judges, her voice filled with satisfaction.

"Definitely," Yanfei agreed, nodding her head. "I think a different nation should hold the next tournament."

Albedo, ever thoughtful, chimed in, "I'm sure Mondstadt would be delighted to host it."

Heizou smiled slightly, "We'll stay in contact. There's much we can continue learning from one another."

Childe, who had been unusually quiet, grinned at the idea of a future competition. "It's a pity we didn't get to participate ourselves. I would've loved to face off against the Oni or even the winners." His eyes glinted with enthusiasm, the prospect of more battles always enticing him.

"I like Fontaine," Yanfei said with a smile. "I'll write a detailed report and hand it over to the Liyue Qixing. I'm sure we can have more collaborations in the future."

The judges exchanged more words, Neuvillette and Nahida conversing in splendid harmony as the day gradually drew to an end. The tournament had not only been a showcase of strength but also a successful exchange of ideas and cultures.

Meanwhile, at Clorinde's favorite restaurant, her friends surrounded her, celebrating the victory with energy and laughter. The conversation was lively, and plates of delicious food filled the table. Yet, Clorinde's mind wandered, her thoughts focused on something else. One fight still awaited her—a fight of a different kind.

Across town, Wriothesley had returned to the Fortress of Meropide, the tournament trophy in his hands. His usual quiet confidence was replaced by a subtle weariness, though a proud smile still tugged at his lips. Sigewinne was already bustling around him, looking at his injuries and tending to them with her usual care, ensuring he was as comfortable as possible.

"You really took a beating," Sigewinne said, her voice full of concern as she gently applied a cooling salve. "But nothing I can't patch up."

"I'll live," the Duke replied, wincing slightly but smiling at her. He knew better than to downplay his injuries with Sigewinne. "You're a lifesaver, as always."

Nearby, Maria had brought down a cake she had baked as soon as he won, her excitement palpable. "We can't have a victory celebration without cake!" she declared, cutting generous slices for everyone present.

Vire, ever efficient, had prepared everything Wriothesley needed to repair his damaged gauntlets, laying out the tools and materials with precision. "Everything's ready for when you want to fix these," he said, gesturing to the cracked gauntlets.

Wriothesley chuckled, a warmth spreading through him. It wasn't just the victory—it was this moment, surrounded by those who had supported him. Yet, like Clorinde, there was something else on his mind. The bet they had made—the fight they both knew had to come next.

Clorinde and Wriothesley had fought through opponents and challenges side by side, but the most personal battle between them was still unresolved.

Wriothesley glanced at the note Clorinde had slipped him earlier, a simple message stating the time and place for their next meeting: the arena where it all started. He grinned, confident he would win whatever this new battle between them entailed. Vire, ever observant, noticed the note but wisely chose not to ask questions this time, though his curiosity was clear.