<h4>Chapter 159: Viin Simtor, Ch 158</h4>


    Just as Lucas and Lumine were about to ascend via the wind current, Lucas suddenly extended his hand and pushed Lumine out of the airflow.


    "This is as far as you go," Lucas said, smiling and waving. "Leave the rest to me."


    "Wait just a second—"


    Before Lumine could finish her sentence, Lucas was already soaring upward, carried by the rising winds. In the blink of an eye, his figure disappeared into the heights of the massive tower, hundreds of meters above.


    "Damn it!" Lumine stomped her foot in frustration, ring at the vanishing figure of Lucas. "That guy—he totally sees me as a burden, doesn''t he?"


    "Maybe this is just his way of protecting you," Paimon murmured softly. "Looks like he hasn''t forgotten the promise he made to me..."


    "Huh?" Lumine looked puzzled. "What promise did he make to you?"


    "N-Nothing!" Paimon quickly shook her head. "So, what do we do now?"


    "What else can we do?" Lumine huffed, ncing around at the now-fading wind current. "We climb to the top and give him a good scolding when we catch up!"


    Meanwhile, Lucas gently descended onto the summit of the tower, carried by the breeze.


    Everything around him seemed minuscule, like dust in the vast expanse.


    The architecture at the summit hinted at the grandeur of Decarabian''s pce in its prime. Though the walls were crumbled and the columns copsed, the throne at the apex of the staircase still radiated an oppressive aura.


    Even coated with a thickyer of dust, it seemed untouched by the swirling winds that had worn everything else around it.


    So, this is where the tyrant Decarabian once sat, looking down upon his subjects as they bowed in submission?


    For reasons unknown, Lucas found himself momentarily forgetting the mission to subdue Stormterror. Compelled by an inexplicable urge, he began ascending the staircase, step by step, until he stood before the throne.


    [What''s the matter? Thinking of sitting down and getting a taste of what it felt like to be the tyrant?]


    The system, silent for so long, suddenly teased him.


    "I feel like... something is calling to me," Lucas murmured.


    As his fingers brushed against the throne, the dust that had settled on it was swept away in an instant. He noticed countless inscriptions etched into the stone.


    It was written in Old Mondstadt script—anguage long abandoned—but Lucas found himself instinctively understanding its meaning.


    "''I am Decarabian, God of Storms and Lord of the Tower. Upon this throne, I inscribe the chronicles of my life...''"


    [Congrattions, host. You''ve triggered a special condition and unlocked the exclusive Simtion: Broken Dreams of the God King.]


    "Exclusive Simtion?" Lucas frowned. "Howe you never told me about this before? Aren''t we supposed to be on the same side?"


    [It''s not that I hid it from you. Exclusive Simtions have extremely rare activation conditions—you might not encounter one even once in your lifetime.]


    [In short, certain actions or events must meet specific criteria to activate an exclusive Simtion.]


    [Exclusive Simtionse with preselected talents tied to the character being simted. You won''t be able to choose new ones.]


    [However, just like with standard Simtions, you can still keep one talent permanently after the simtion ends.]


    It seemed touching the throne had been the trigger for this simtion.


    The life he was about to simte was undoubtedly that of the Tower Lord himself.


    Now wasn''t the ideal time to engage in a simtion, but considering the strength of Decarabian''s talents, any opportunity to enhance his power before battling Stormterror was worth taking.


    "Activate the Simtion!"


    [Exclusive Simtion Activated]


    [Starting Talents]


    [Majestic Aura (Gold)]: You naturally exude a regal presence, making it easier for weaker beings to submit to you. The more creatures that pledge allegiance to you, the stronger you be.


    [Endless Tempest (Gold)]: As the Lord of Wind, you possess unparalleled control over the Anemo element. Tornadoes dance to yourmand, and hurricanes bow to your will.


    [Protective Gale (Purple)]: Blessed by ferocious winds, you are perpetually surrounded by cutting wind des. The stronger you be, the greater their range and power.


    Lucas couldn''t believe his eyes.


    Two gold talents and one purple talent—he''d never seen such an incredible starting setup in all his simtions.


    Of course, it made sense. Decarabian was a god, after all. Without such formidable abilities, he wouldn''t have risen to rule Old Mondstadt as a tyrant.


    [Simtion Begins]


    [Age 0: You are born in the deste, ancient past, when the verdant earth still appeared pale as bone. As the incarnation of the tempest, you possess innate mastery over the winds. (Endless Tempest activated)]


    [Age 17: As a storm god, you do not require training or study to wield immense power. Fierce wind des surround you constantly, slicing apart anything thates too close to protect you. (Protective Gale activated)]


    [Age 34: A group of monsters attacks you, coveting the energy you harbor within. Though you have not yet learned to fight, they are shredded to pieces by your wind des the moment they approach.]


    [Age 67: Your divine power grows rapidly, but your awareness develops slowly. For a long time, you exist in a state of chaos. Over time, you begin to form a consciousness.]


    [Age 81: You start to ponder the meaning of existence. For the first time, you experience an unfamiliar sensationter, you wille to know this feeling as "loneliness."]


    [Age 90: While wandering, youe across a wolf pup and find it endearing. You approach it, hoping to y, but your protective windssh out, causing it to cry out in pain.]


    [Hearing its cries, the mother wolf charges at you, mistaking your approach for an attack. Despite being shredded by your winds, she bites down on your arm, refusing to let go until her body copses from her wounds.]


    [The pup''s gaze is filled with fear and hatred. You refrain from approaching it further, sighing in regret. Your winds are both your shield and your curse, granting you invulnerability but isting you from all living things.]


    [Age 134: You continue your aimless wanderings. Most creatures fear your power instinctively, but a few, desiring your abilities, attempt to attack you. Of course, they are swiftly defeated or torn apart.]


    [With your protective winds, you fear no foe. Any assant is unable to get close, and even projectiles or elemental attacks are torn to shreds.]


    [Age 216: After two centuries, your reputation spreads. Seeking distraction from your solitude, you begin challenging opponents for sport. Yet your overwhelming strength leaves you without true rivals. Most beings either despise or fear you. Those who fear you are spared.]


    [One such spared creature does not flee but kneels in reverence. For the first time, you feel a small spark of fulfillment.]


    [You permit it to follow you, albeit at a distance. Your presence shields it from danger, as few enemies dare to challenge you.]


    [Age 254: Gradually, more creatures join your ranks. Though you remain distant and silent, their reverence soothes your loneliness. Even if their loyalty stems from self-preservation, you take sce in their worship.]


    [Age 318: Your followers form a settlement, constructing shrines and altars in your honor. They offer food and treasures as tribute. You ept it all, treating the settlement as your domain and patrolling it regrly.]


    [Age 429: The settlement expands, but you are displeased. Over generations, the creatures'' reverence wanes. Their descendants no longer fear or respect you as their ancestors did.]


    ---


    Author''s Note: Sorry for not posting a Chapter yesterday, I was out and just got back a few hours ago.


    Thought I should release 3 Chapters at the same time :)