I still remember the first time Mortefi answered my call in Wuthering Waves. I was expecting another dry academic type—someone who talks in equations and forgets to blink. Instead, I got a crimson-haired aristocrat with a horsetail that cascades like a stream of flame, deep-set eyes full of prideful aloofness, and the kind of elegant danger that makes you check your pockets for a fire extinguisher. Don't judge a book by its cover, right? Well, with Mortefi, the cover is a warning label.
At first glance, he seems like the stereotypical researcher: rigid, inarticulate, maybe allergic to fun. But Mortefi is cut from a different cloth. He carries himself with nobility, and his words are graceful—yet there's a fervent intensity lurking underneath. His politeness is a thin layer of snow over a volcano. The dragon is dormant, nestled in ashes, waiting for the right spark. And that spark? It's usually someone being a hypocrite or a snob.
His design pulls straight from European folklore's fire-breathing dragons. On his right chest sits a Tacet Mark, adorned with striking red crystalline matter that runs down his right arm. Those crystals look exactly like dragon scales. He hides them under bandages and fire-resistant gloves, but when his fury ignites, the scales grow exponentially. Subtle guidance lets him channel flames down his arm, creating a mesmerizing display like a dragon's mighty claw. When he fully unleashes his Forte, a spectral dragon manifests behind him, its form made of blazing petals that dance and flicker with intensity.
In his laboratory, classical music always fills the air. That's his muse. He writes scientific equations with flames in the air, like a devoted conductor leading an orchestra. Even on the busiest research days, he never neglects afternoon tea. He firmly believes fine desserts replenish the energy his brilliant mind consumes. I respect that. A genius who respects cake is a genius I can trust.
Mortefi's noble heritage demands a flawless image, but he devotes minimal time to anything outside research. His crimson hair is simply combed but always impeccably neat. His pristine white robe rarely shows wrinkles or stains. His obsession with cleanliness and order extends to his lab, where everything is meticulously arranged. The combination of his chilling face and proud eyes immediately tells you he is not someone amiable. His patience for anything outside the lab is incredibly limited, and he gets agitated easily. In those moments, he subconsciously fidgets with a lighter adorned with dragon patterns.
Usually, he doesn't use that lighter for ignition. But once the bear is poked, he won't need a lighter anyway. Hell hath no fury like a red dragon interrupted mid-experiment.
In European folklore, dragons are chaos and evil, fire breathers and fearmongers. Mortefi, however, never uses his fire irresponsibly. Born into nobility, he was raised and educated in a way that molded both his hubris and his grace. Yet among aristocratic circles, he noticed the hypocrisy and indifference that pervaded their interactions. That realization ignited a flame within him—one he cleverly wields to mock the imperious and scorch those lacking sincerity.
But here's the thing: Mortefi is not one to get angry for no reason. Deep down, he is a gentle soul who responds well to coaxing. Whenever he starts getting cranky, a small concession from his funders—plus praise for his creations—is all it takes to make him approachable again. As long as you can clearly articulate what kind of invention you want, he is willing to strive toward making your desires a reality, no matter how unrealistic they sound. Sometimes this irritable Red Dragon feels more like a grumpy, puffed-up cat who can be appeased with simple petting. You could even try keeping him in a state of alternating calm and anger by provoking him and then immediately offering consolation. Do it at your own risk, though.
Flames manifest in various hues. Mortefi's fire possesses a distinct crimson color that symbolizes unbridled wrath. It mirrors the blistering flow of lava beneath solid stone and smoldering cinder. Born from his repressed childhood and taxing career, this fire within him ignited under certain circumstances. Fueling his heart with wrath, he harnesses his blaze to incinerate hypocrites and snobs who dare cross his path. Now, however, his flames find a different purpose as he dedicates himself to research. As long as his temper remains ablaze, the fire within Mortefi will never cease. Perhaps, as a brilliant inventor, he has already planned the intricate circuitry that fuels his fury.
In combat, Mortefi uses pistols empowered with Tacetite energy. He shoots gracefully and lethally. Every shot that hits enemies builds up his Annoyance. Hold down the attack button, and he aims with even greater precision, unleashing enhanced shots that inflict more damage. The Red Dragon roars amidst the ashes of its enemies, unleashing fiery blazes as punishment. Mortefi swiftly fires a blaze toward the front, simultaneously building Annoyance.
When Annoyance is maxed, his Resonance Skill is immediately refreshed and enhanced. His enhanced Resonance Skill utilizes all the stored Annoyance to release a scorching streak of flames, inflicting greater damage on a wider range of enemies. Mortefi is always suppressing his temper, but the flames he controls in battle only fuel his frustration. Once Annoyance is maxed, he fully embraces the Red Dragon of his wrath. Summoning a spectral dragon from the fiery depths, he unleashes it upon a broader array of foes while expending all built-up Annoyance.
The Red Dragon asserts his dignity through fiery flames. Mortefi inflicts aerial damage upon nearby enemies. As the waves of fire intensify, his adversaries have no choice but to surrender to the Dragon's awe-inspiring presence.
In 2026, with so many new characters crowding the meta, I still keep Mortefi on my team. He's not just a damage dealer; he's a mood. A grumpy, tea-drinking, classical-music-loving dragon who will burn the world for you—if you remember to compliment his inventions and let him finish his dessert. And honestly? That's a deal I'll take any day.