He changed Tiwat

"You're saying you're a 'sinner' too?" Yura frowned.

In her view, Rosalia, as an executioner of the church, should be a judge responsible for bringing divine punishment to sinners, completely different from her. What talk of "misery loves company"?

Rosalia lowered her head slightly and said softly, "Some people are born under the sun and take all that light and warmth for granted. But love, piety, and holiness—all good things—are built upon the blood and tears of sinners..."

“Mondstadt is a white beast that is both ancient and young, ancient enough to need protection, and young enough to be unable to survive on its own. Only a place like this needs someone like me. I care for Mondstadt as the other nuns care for the citizens, allowing it to move steadily on the path to freedom. As for why it is white… because people like me are black.”

A dagger fell from the nun's sleeve into her palm.

The dagger didn't have a bright, cold gleam; instead, it looked dull and gray. The handle was also badly worn, indicating that it had been used for many years.

But it wasn't rusted, it could still kill, it was still a murder weapon.

Pulling out a weapon indiscriminately in a pub is clearly against the rules and would frighten other customers. Usually, the bartender and the pub owner would kick such a difficult customer out, but no one would see it happen.

A light mist surrounded the two of them, like cigarette smoke, a common sight in bars—but Rosalia wasn't smoking.

This is a small spell used when performing special church work. It can use the power of the amulet to block the sound from being carried by the breeze, and at the same time blur the figure to a certain extent. It is especially useful under the cover of night.

Rosalia wore such a gemstone amulet on her chest, the spell sealed within of which was activated by a specific word—the very word Rosalia had uttered during her "prayer," "Anemo."

Yura made no move because she did not sense any killing intent from Rosalia.

The bar counter where the two were leaning against had now become a small "confessional".

Rosalia twirled the dagger between her fingertips, from her index finger, around her middle finger, to her ring finger, and then back from her ring finger to her index finger. Her movements were fluid and unwavering, as if it weren't a weapon that could cut skin and cause bleeding, but merely a pencil being played with by a child.

"I started playing with daggers before I could even speak. When I learned to speak, I also learned how to kill."

Rosalia's voice was flat, as if she were talking about something perfectly normal.

“I have no parents. The first person to feed me was an old thief. If you really think about it, he should be the enemy who killed my biological parents, but this enemy became my adoptive father. They robbed merchants and killed innocent merchants, and I was an accomplice.”

Rosalia was born in a remote mountain village. Shortly after her birth, the village was attacked by a group of thieves. The thieves massacred the village, and one of the old thieves, whether out of a change of heart or out of the sorrow of being childless in old age, adopted the baby girl who was less than a month old.

Raised by thieves, Rosalia learned combat skills from a young age, working as a thief while also doing odd jobs for the guild.

They are both servants and machines; both thieves and children.

They fought against outsiders and against their own comrades; they struggled in hunger and cold and grew up in competition.

Rosalia's childhood was like the sunset in Mondstadt—everything in sight was blood-red, and when she looked up, she realized it was already late.

"One winter, the thieves were in dire straits, with not enough food to feed everyone. I was starving and had to endure hunger while doing hard labor in the cold wind, so I ran away. My foster father caught me and brought me back."

"Those who run away are traitors, and traitors can only gain their freedom by winning a duel."

The old man who had taken her from the village where she was born and taught her how to kill threw her an old dagger.

It's the one she's holding right now.

She still remembered what the old thief had said to her—"Come on, kill me and you can leave this place. I'm an old lion, you're still young. You can do it, can't you?"

Almost no one believed Rosalia could actually kill him. But the old lion did indeed die at the hands of a young beast.

That night, the thieves lost an old member and welcomed a new one.

Interestingly, the thieves were initially unwilling to accept Rosalia, who had killed the old man, but changed their minds after seeing the "Eye of God" in her hand.

—After killing the old man she called "father," Rosalia gained the attention of the gods, though she did not know why they did so.

—And for thieves, a young person with the "Eye of God" is definitely more powerful than an old thief who is about to die. Besides, Rosalia eats very little.

—Rosalia suddenly had a question: Was he deliberately making me take his place? ...Can an adopted child also make a fake father want to protect him?

This band of thieves was wiped out by the Knights of Favonius several years later. As the youngest member, Rosalia was considered to still have room for repentance.

Knight Commander Falgar brought her back to Mondstadt. He sincerely hoped that Rosalia could integrate into Mondstadt and advised her, "Go to the church and cleanse yourself in the light of God. You can start over and live like an ordinary person."

Rosalia was then adopted by the church.

Falgar hadn't anticipated that Rosalia would repeatedly skip classes and unjustifiably miss choir duties. She preferred hunting in the wild to being a dutiful nun.

For her, the golden sunlight was blinding.

“Sinners are not compatible with gods and sunlight. I knew long ago that I, as a sinner, would eventually return to darkness.”

Yura listened quietly to Rosalia's story, and she saw Rosalia suddenly smile.

Rosalia stared at the dagger in her hand, as if trying to see the shadow of someone on the gray blade.

"Then one day I skipped class and met a man outside the church. He was a famous adventurer, the son-in-law of the Gunnhildr family, the archbishop of the Church of the Dawn, known as 'Cardinal of the Dawn'—Simon Page. I don't know why he had that nickname, maybe because his blond hair was like the sunlight at dawn? But to be honest, his glasses were stupid and didn't suit him at all."

Yura recalled Qin's father; he always wore a red robe and gold-rimmed glasses—because his eyes were always squinting, and with those glasses, they looked even smaller, like slits…

Pfft, that's actually a bit silly.

Yura laughed out loud for the second time today.

Rosalia continued, "That person asked me why I didn't want to be a nun, and I told him that I had committed crimes and killed people. And nuns are not allowed to commit crimes."

"Most people would stop bothering me after hearing me say something like that, but that person was different. Do you know what he said to me back then?"

"say what?"

He said, "If you kill one sinner, the total number of sinners in the world remains the same. But if you kill two, the number of sinners decreases."

“God may be able to protect everyone, but He won’t—otherwise, human suffering would be a joke. You are indeed a sinner, but a sinner is still a human being. Those whom God cannot protect, humans will protect.”

Rosalia pointed to the crown of thorns hidden under her headscarf.

"That's how it is. Before I even graduated from the monastery, I had already become a 'free man of the church,' accumulating sins every day. Fortunately, through my work, the total number of sinners has decreased."

Chapter 166 Confession

Yura remained silent; Rosalia's experiences were not something an outsider could comment on.

She used to think that being born into the Lawrence family was a very unfortunate thing, that she was burdened with original sin from birth, and that she had to endure a miserable environment, a strict family and discrimination from outsiders. No matter how hard she tried, she could not get a fair evaluation... But compared to Rosalia, Yura found that she was actually quite happy.

Rosalia smiled again.

"I think my life is actually pretty good now. In a city like this, which is happy but boring, there always has to be people doing the dirty work. For me, doing this is much easier than living the life of a proper nun. I set off after sunset, finish my tasks in one go, and sometimes return at dawn, and can even have a glass of breakfast wine. By the way, the moonlight is actually very beautiful, silvery white, clear and cold light... just like ice."

Although Rosalia described it very casually, Yura could roughly imagine what that kind of life was like.

Her work was shrouded in darkness, involving investigation, surveillance, interrogation, and torture... If necessary, she would personally make people disappear forever. Because of her job, she rarely interacted with ordinary people and couldn't form connections with them—emotional ties would make one weak. Doing this kind of work day after day often warped one's psyche; lonely people are most prone to madness.

Rosalia raised her hand.

The back of her hand appeared sickly white under the bar lights, a blinding white—even though this hand had long been stained with countless drops of blood in the darkness.

The shadow of a hand was cast on the bar counter; it was black.

"Where there is black, there is corresponding white; where there is light, there is shadow. Shadows originate from light, but light does not rule over shadows."

She turned her palm over, facing up towards the light.

"Look, you can grasp the light with this hand too."

Yura couldn't help but ask Rosalia a question: "Which do you think is the real you, the one who was a 'sinner' before, or the one who is judging 'sinners' now?"

Rosalia thought about it seriously for a while and replied, "I sometimes feel that I exist in every version of myself from the past, surrounding me... and having something to rely on. You must feel the same way. So, even if you are on a completely different path now, don't deny your past self. Every version of yourself from the past is a foundation beneath your feet. Don't be afraid of the past, and don't be afraid to confront it."

Yura nodded.

Yura Lawrence in the past, and "Swimming Knight" now, are always the same person.

Rosalia was right; they were indeed in the same boat when it came to not being understood by others.

The other nuns in the church couldn't understand why this non-believer would become a nun, just as the knights in the Knights couldn't understand why the Lawrence family would join the Knights.

Whether it's unconventional or even rebellious, no matter how outsiders see it, the one who walks the path is ultimately herself.

The path lies only beneath your own feet.

"Thank you."

Yura noticed that she seemed to be thanking people more often lately, while holding grudges less often.

Rosalia smiled: "So, my first 'confession' was a success?"

Yura shook her head: "No, it's a complete failure. It should be the confessor speaking and the defendant listening, but now it's completely reversed."

Rosalia sighed.

"The profession of nun is definitely not suitable for me."

Yura flicked an empty glass on the bar with her fingertip.

"But it's perfect for being a drinking buddy."

The two "sinners" exchanged a smile.

Suddenly, cheers erupted from the bar. The two looked up and saw Diona demonstrating her bartending skills at the other end of the bar.

Diona juggled the jug from her left arm, down her shoulder, and across her right arm like a juggler. The instant the jug touched the back of her hand, she deftly flipped her wrist, and the jug began to spin around her wrist like a hula hoop.

Then Diona suddenly flicked her wrist, sending the shaker flying diagonally behind her along its momentum. Just as it was about to crash into the liquor cabinet behind her, a fluffy tabby cat tail suddenly appeared and deftly wrapped around the shaker. Caught by Diona's tail, the shaker spun around like a Liyue folk toy, "diabolo," drawing applause from the onlookers.

What makes "Diona's Special" special isn't just the recipe and taste of the liquor, but also Diona's unique bartending skills. Her Katzlein family lineage gives her a balance and agility comparable to a cat, something other bartenders can't imitate. Just those few moves alone could make a fortune performing as acrobatics in front of the fountain square during the holidays.

Suddenly, Diona launched herself into the air, kicking the shaker high into the air. The shaker spun a few times in the air before landing steadily in front of the two people on the bar.

By this time, Rosalia had already put away her mist and dagger, and applauded Diona in a very respectful manner, while Yura couldn't wait to see what was so special about this brand-new "Diona Special Concoction".

"Heh heh, I'm really looking forward to your thoughts!"

Diona touched her nose smugly and lifted the lid of the teapot.

The moment she lifted the lid, Yura and Rosalia simultaneously covered their noses. Not only them, but the other patrons who had been watching Diona mix drinks also moved away from the bar.

This pot of wine can only be described as "poisonous"—the slime liquid and the wine are mixed together in a thick consistency, making the wine look like expired yogurt; a lizard's tail, completely swollen from being soaked, floats on the surface like an octopus's tentacles; butterfly scales are stuck to the lizard's tail, making it look eerie and strange, and fish scales can be seen floating around it...

It's not just the visual impact, but also the pungent fishy smell that can be detected from a great distance.

Even Rosalia, who claims to be fearless, leaned back dramatically upon seeing the jar of "wine," as if afraid of getting the smell of the "wine" on her.

"You don't... want us to drink this, do you?" Yura's voice trembled slightly, a rare occurrence for her.

Just imagining drinking that sticky tentacle covered in a strange white liquid made Yura want to run away.

"Hmm, just a moment."

This kind of liquor can't be served directly to guests. After all, Diona is a professional bartender, so she still has to pay attention to the presentation.

She quickly removed the impurities from the shaker, leaving only the liquid, and then used this liquid as a base to add some dandelion wine and apple wine.

"First, slice the entire lizard's tail into pieces, then soak it in alcohol..."

"Add slime gel and let it stand..."

"Sprinkle with butterfly scale powder..."

"Oh, right, and fish scales too, add them to the wine along with the slime from the bottle..."

The final step is mixing.

Diona shook the stirring spoon in her hand while muttering, "Stir, stir, stir... Make it taste bad, make it taste bad, make it taste absolutely bad..."

Chapter 167 Neither Betraying Mondl nor Betraying You

Diona's muttering as she stirred the wine amplified its terrifying nature.

"Is she mixing drinks... or conducting alchemical experiments...?" Yura's face was full of resistance.

“I don’t know either, but if it’s Diona, there must be some professional considerations… probably.” Rosalia’s face was also full of doubt.

These two drinkers, who just met tonight, may have to temporarily abstain from alcohol because of this "Diona Special".

"Done! Hehehe, this special cocktail is the first heavy blow to expose the liquor merchant's lies."

Diona proudly poured the specially prepared cocktail into glasses and placed them in front of the two of them.

Judging by appearance alone, this cup does look much better than the previous one.

After being blended with dandelion liqueur and apple cider, this drink has a refreshing lemon color. Only a few thin slices of the lizard tail sink to the bottom of the glass, resembling apple slices in apple cider. The slime has been thoroughly stirred and blended perfectly with the liqueur, eliminating any sticky feeling. The trace amounts of butterfly scales and fish scales look like scattered pearl powder...

In short, just by looking at it, this drink is actually quite tempting.

But human memory is different from that of a goldfish; at least we can't forget the terrifying scene we witnessed just a few minutes ago...

"Isn't the idea for this drink a bit too ahead of its time..."

Yura looked at Rosalia.

"Indeed, incredibly creative. Consider this a treat..."

Rosalia pushed the wine glass towards Yura.