After becoming the Anemo Archon, Barbatos became the ruling archon of Mondstadt, enjoying an exalted status and being revered by all.
But Barbatos never forgot Venti's words.
When he had given him that name, the meaning of "Barbatos" had been freedom.
All the boy had ever longed for was freedom.
So Barbatos did not choose to become a high-and-mighty ruler, nor did he enjoy his exalted status. He did not command people to do anything.
Instead, he entrusted freedom to the people themselves, letting them decide their own path, letting them experience true freedom.
When all was settled, Barbatos transformed into a gentle breeze, drifting through the newly built towers of Mondstadt, through the newly opened taverns, carried by the wind to a hill covered in blooming flowers.
Holding a feather in one hand and Venti's harp in the other, he walked with light steps to the boy's grave.
Looking at the weathered tombstone, his eyes filled with longing.
His still-blurred face formed a faint smile.
"Venti, I'm back—"
"Do you remember our promise? I succeeded—"
"I carried your will and defeated every god. I became the Anemo Archon of Mondstadt and brought freedom to your side."
"I entrusted freedom back to the people."
As he spoke, Barbatos gently placed the white feather on the tombstone.
He sat beside the grave, took up the harp, and began to play softly, singing a song of freedom.
"Great god of wind—"
"With a wave of your hand, drive away these raging storms—"
"Leave this tower—"
"Let me see the blue sky, let me see the green earth, let me see the birds flying free—"
"Free god of wind—"
...
This was the song he and Venti had created together during their happiest days.
Though the boy could no longer sing for him, Barbatos could play for him, sing for him, letting the wind carry their songs far away.
Now, though Barbatos had become the Anemo Archon, with great power and exalted status, his face and form remained indistinct. He had never fully formed his physical body.
He could no longer surprise the boy.
But he had never understood what kind of form would be considered handsome enough to surprise Venti.
After a long silence, Barbatos looked at the grave, his eyes thoughtful, as if an idea had come to him.
He stopped playing, as if making a decision, and spoke to the grave.
"Venti, I've finally understood—"
"I will become your eyes and see this world for you."
"I will take you to see the birds flying free and the endless sky."
"I will take you to see the vibrant green grass and the red flowers in bloom."
"I will take you to see the rolling tides of the sea and the fishing boats sailing into the distance."
"And of course—"
"I will take you to Sumeru, to Snezhnaya, to Fontaine."
"I will take you to see the bitter cold and the scorching heat."
With that, Barbatos plucked the strings again, playing softly, singing once more.
As he played, his indistinct form began to complete the final step of forming his physical body.
His blurry hands became slender, delicate hands—familiar somehow.
His shapeless form became a thin, gentle boy's body.
On his indistinct head, two small braids appeared, falling over his shoulders, gently stirred by the breeze.
Finally, Barbatos's blurred face, as he played the harp, slowly took on Venti's features.
From that day on, he was Venti.
Barbatos murmured, "Venti, let's go."
"Let me fulfill our promise. Let me take you to see the world beyond."
With that, he straightened his cap, tightened his cape, and sat beside Venti's grave, playing the harp, singing songs.
A gentle breeze swept through.
Barbatos's form slowly dissolved, carried on the wind to the world beyond.
...
From that time on, Barbatos, the Anemo Archon of Mondstadt, ceased to govern. He vanished.
The world lost an archon and gained a bard who loved wine and old songs.
The bard's name was Venti.
Over the long years, he often appeared on street corners in Mondstadt, singing old songs for coins to buy a drink.
He took his harp to Liyue, singing poems before Morax, becoming an old friend.
He wandered not only Mondstadt and Liyue but also Inazuma, Sumeru, Snezhnaya, Fontaine—leaving his footprints in countless lands, leaving songs of freedom in his wake.
He witnessed bitter cold and scorching heat.
From time to time, Venti—Barbatos in name—would return to the hill covered in flowers.
He would sit beside the grave, telling the boy of his travels.
In some eyes, Barbatos was a lazy god, a slacker.
One of the Seven, yet he neither managed affairs nor stayed to protect Mondstadt, allowing chaos to befall it time and again.
But only Barbatos knew that he had always, always been fulfilling his promise to the boy.
To let freedom reach every corner of Mondstadt.
To let freedom come to the boy's side.
...
The third life—the story of Barbatos—came to an end.
At Wangshu Inn, on stage, Li Mo's face still bore traces of sorrow. He had not yet emerged from the memories of that life.
Below, the audience was stunned by this ending.
"Barbatos took Venti's name, took his form—no wonder he never appeared. Even when he did, no one recognized him."
"Come to think of it, I've heard similar harp music and songs on the streets of Liyue."
"I remember now. Last month, I saw that bard on a street corner in Liyue. So he was the Anemo Archon."
"So that's how it is. The Anemo Archon never left."
"He simply took his friend's face, his friend's name, quietly guarding freedom."
Hearing this story, all their questions were answered. The audience understood everything.
So that was it.
It wasn't that the story was false.
It was that Barbatos had hidden himself too well.
Who could have imagined that the Anemo Archon would give up his exalted status to become a wandering bard?
As the audience marveled, the doors of Wangshu Inn swung open.
A bard stepped through—wearing a green cap, a green cape, and his hair in two small braids.