Risky as it was, Kiyo Seigan's gamble paid off.
Vowbound Heart (Archon-Level).
This "heart" was not material—more a conceptual existence.
A gift from the Human Principles System—a heart of clarity—able to withstand karma.
Karma has no form or mass; it stains the soul and poisons the mind, then seizes the body. Karma devours the heart—and Kiyo Seigan's heart, woven from Covenants spanning several lives, could likewise bear karma spanning several lives.
He dared to risk himself because he could rely on this Archon-Level Vowbound Heart.
Bosacius went mad and died because he was already old—his heart was old. Even a rock, ground down by centuries of "wear," becomes sand. Compress life as he might, his soul could no longer be young.
But Kiyo Seigan was different. He was still young—still unspent.
He had no intention of yielding. No intention of dying.
He would live—and bring this fate to an end.
Hard as it might be.
Not only to live for himself, but for those he loved… and those who loved him.
Bosacius had said something right to the Millelith: "Your deaths are the most terrifying thing in the world—to the people who love you. But I am different…"
Kiyo Seigan was not Bosacius; he had not lived enough. He still had ties he meant to honor.
"Hah…"
Kiyo Seigan exhaled slowly and swayed on his feet. Xiao's karma coiled in his sea of consciousness; savage, manic emotions flashed through his eyes. He closed them, opened them—clarity returned.
He straightened by degrees; joints cracked. He lifted his head. Before him towered the tide of karma, red torrents and sooty haze covering all the stratified rock.
Ganyu was trapped at the center of the blight. Sand-fine chips from the immortal husk whirled out with infinite filth from the broken seal.
"E… Elder Brother?"
Xiao's murmur came from the side.
He stared at Kiyo Seigan's back. Karma had piled into mountains before him—and that slender back walked toward them…
Xiao remembered the field of the Archon War—Bosacius, covered in blood, back turned, striding for a demon king.
"I am not your elder brother," Kiyo Seigan—Kiyo Seigan—shook his head gently. "But I'm glad to be your friend."
"When we get back, we're having a proper drink."
More and more karma surged into Kiyo Seigan's body. With every step his aura grew heavier, stronger—more tainted. Nuo Exorcism devoured every blight he crossed.
Blood-red drowned his eyes. He halted, turned, and looked to Mr. Zhongli. Across the roaring filth, they held each other's gaze.
What Zhongli lacked was a target—a living lure to draw all karma into one place and force it to take form. Kiyo Seigan raised his chin and patted his chest—over his heart.
Silence.
No words—but everyone understood.
Kiyo Seigan would be that living target. When he had swallowed all the karma and his heart was brimful of filth, Zhongli would pierce the karma—together with that heart.
His heart would be the mark.
…Damn it.
Zhongli watched him in silence—remembering a blazing summer afternoon, Bosacius's last invitation to drink, when they made their final Covenant. He still remembered Bosacius's face then.
"I will continue to purge karma—until I go mad." He had said it plain. "When I lose control, I wish for you to kill me."
But that Covenant was never fulfilled.
Zhongli had thought he'd never need to—how absurd the world is.
He and Kiyo Seigan stared one another down; after a moment's thought, Zhongli slowly shook his head.
Without a heart—how does one live?
But Kiyo Seigan remembered: from the start of this life he had two main quests—fulfill all Covenants, and live heartlessly.
"Heartless."
"Heart-less."
"Live."
Perhaps… without a heart, he could still live.
It was the System's will, before it slept—slipping past some inner rule to deliver one last message.
"Listen." Kiyo Seigan met Zhongli's eyes. "I'll be fine."
It was a gamble—but really, a judgment grounded in experience.
The reward for the Seventh Covenant had not appeared.
Every prior Covenant's reward arrived usefully—salt and sardine yielded the sardine recipe, and so on. He wagered the seventh reward would be the same. This Covenant he had made with his former self—with his true heart.
The first six Covenants: Bosacius's arts, his sword, his Nuo Exorcism…
Perhaps the seventh reward would be Bosacius's heart.
He remembered that heart—Bosacius's Heart—bequeathed to his next life upon Bosacius's death.
And perhaps two thousand four hundred years later, it would pass on through the Covenant.
Still a gamble—but one worth taking. If he didn't, everyone died. If he did, at worst only he would.
He had to end Liyue's fate, draw the line under two millennia of tangled karma. Only then could he truly live heartlessly.
Trust me.
I will live.
My friend—this is the Covenant I, Kiyo Seigan, make with you.
Zhongli read the look in his eyes—the sea-blue eyes washed in blood-dark, like a sunset over the ocean; yet the light refracted there was still clear.
Steadfast—and solemn.
"The one who reneges on their words,"
Zhongli said softly.
His hand tightened on the Vortex Vanquisher; golden eyes mirrored Bosacius's face. After a breath, he exhaled:
"—shall suffer the Wrath of the Rock."
Kiyo Seigan turned and walked into the abyss of karma.
The blights shrieked wilder at his arrival. To them, Kiyo Seigan's body was the perfect vessel; drawn by Nuo Exorcism, they poured over him like a black tide.
Only one problem remained—he had to devour all the karma.
"Bastard!!"
Kamigiri burst in dazzling streams—wind and thunder dancing together. The god-slaying blade struck the Salt Ruler barrier head-on, fissuring the salt-sea's ward. Lumine flung herself forward, reaching—she had to catch him. She'd missed too often. She would not—not—miss again.
"Lumine." He stopped, voice steady from within the flood. "You must live. Leave this place."
"What—what are you saying—!"
"Because as long as you're here, I won't go mad."
The blight was swallowing him inch by inch. "I know… I'm a bastard. I've done bastard things. But now I understand."
"I was proud and arrogant. After living Bosacius's life—I finally understand."
"I will not throw my life away anymore. It would hurt the ones I love—and those who love me."
"You must leave. Wait for me to return."
"Karma is terrifying. It eats one's will and heart. But so long as you live, I will not lose."
"If you're alive, I do not wish to die. If you're alive, I do not wish to go mad."
His face twisted further—but his eyes only grew clearer.
"Once I was willing to die for those I love. Now—I am willing to live for those I love."
Lumine found she could no longer hold Kamigiri.
The blade trembled; wind and thunder traced it. Waking on this doomsday earth, it flew from her grasp of its own will. Kiyo Seigan's hand reached back, and he seized the hilt—as if he held the world's wind and thunder.
"Havria."
He lowered his gaze, stroking the cold Salt Ruler. He seemed to taste sardine and salt once more—slightly astringent, clean on the finish—the taste he loved.
"Your believer prays to you."
"From this moment, I will never betray you again."
"Death is betrayal. From this moment, I will not die."
"You are with me—and I with you."
"You are my god; I shall be your believer."
"The one who reneges on their words,"
The Salt Ruler bloomed with peerless light. Endless fine salt surged up from the depths of the sea, cloaking Kiyo Seigan's back. He saw silver-white hair lift, scattering in a summer sun; a white-clad, bare-foot maiden closed her hand over his sword.
Havria murmured, golden eyes like the dawn, "—shall suffer the Wrath of the Salt."
Gods may share authority with their faithful—the Tsaritsa had done so more than once.
And now—
The Salt Ruler melted into sea-salt and flowed into Kiyo Seigan's body. Havria shared the God of Salt's authority; his strength soared.
[Kiyo Seigan]
[Lv. 50]
[Lv. 60]
…
[Lv. 80]
It was not his power—and only for a time—but it was enough.
He whispered a Nuo Exorcism charm. Kamigiri traced a bright arc; thunder and wind frayed along its edge. The stroke cleaved down; shattered karma streamed into his heart. His eyes were lucid beyond measure.
The Fantastic Compass was fully unsealed. That hidden space returned to the world—the deepest place of Liyue, Bosacius's burial, the very source of the overflowing karma.
Kiyo Seigan dropped into the abyss.
He devoured the blight.
"Come."
As with Bosacius, a host lay before him.
Covenants with Zhongli, with Lumine, with Havria—three new Covenants buttressed his heart. This was the true power of the Vowbound Heart.
Nothing could bar his path. He had inherited Bosacius's swordwork; that near-Dao adeptal art now met a body, under the Salt's authority, finally worthy of its slaughtering form—the two beginning to fuse.
Common killing arts cannot harm formless karma; Nuo Exorcism must drive it out. Even Zhongli could not do this—only he could.
Zhongli could feel it—the outflow slowed. He raised four more pillars, pinning down the overflow so it could not spread to the mortal world.
"Kiyo Seigan…"
Zhongli watched that back, expression tangled; at last he smiled helplessly, to this young friend and old one both. "You leave me no choice."
Perhaps—this time—the end would differ from two millennia past.
Three shadows gathered around Kiyo Seigan, their eye-filth almost tangible—unlike ordinary karma.
He knew them—the karma of three Yakshas:
Menogias, Indarias, Bonanus.
They looked upon him, shoulders quivering, chaotic, manic. Of course they recognized him—recognized that oft-seen sword.
But… wasn't Elder Brother Bosacius behind them? Below The Chasm? Not yet awakened?
This was not Bosacius! Not Bosacius!
Kamigiri rang, shedding clear light. Kiyo Seigan sent that light through Indarias' throat; thunder-serpents crashed into the blight. He stepped in, lowered his stance, slid past Indarias's flame; the blade turned and chopped back against the grain.
Shapeless karma is still karma—and Kiyo Seigan had Bosacius's craft. The Yaksha had been raised by Bosacius; he knew their ways by heart.
"I've come to take you home," he said.
Kamigiri split Indarias's karma; the foul form parted and burst into gray butterflies. Kiyo Seigan spread his arms and embraced them—the blight flowed along his shell and into his heart.
The blade turned; the other two heads flew. Their forms scattered; he accepted them all—took them all in.
Filth pooled; reason slid nearer to frenzy. Dragging Kamigiri, he pressed on.
One after another the karmas were cut and swallowed. He walked the road to madness and death—yet would walk through it, finding life by knowing death.
A thousand. Ten thousand. A hundred thousand.
At last he reached the darkest place—where the mountain collapsed. Stone shattered, ranges fell, and vast rifts veined the mass like wounds.
From those wounds, jet filth poured out, drifting upward.
Ganyu knelt, powerless, blood-tears on her cheeks—yet her eyes gleamed with a sickly light.
She stared ahead, not even glancing at Kiyo Seigan, and murmured, "Senior Brother…"
She had not even noticed him arrive.
Kiyo Seigan lifted his eyes to the mountain.
It was falling. Layers of stone howled through the air; heaven dimmed. On that broken corpse, the greatest foulness stirred awake—
Bosacius's Karma.
He did not need Nuo Exorcism to force Bosacius into his heart. He didn't need to.
Because Bosacius was him—and he was Bosacius—Bosacius's karma was his karma.
His body was Bosacius's. For karma, to seize its original body is instinct—and purpose.
He opened his arms to the mountain's corpse—as if to embrace it.
And the mountain answered him.
Stones floating in the air drifted toward Kiyo Seigan; the center of the blight shifted. Those thoughts, those grudges, those memories unique to Bosacius flowed into Kiyo Seigan.
He stood at the center and shut his eyes.
Ganyu's vacant gaze followed the mountain—hesitating—and at last fell upon Kiyo Seigan.
[Lv. 85]
[Lv. 89]
"S—" Whether karma or Ganyu, both stared at the youth who had appeared.
His aura—strange, yet familiar—more familiar, moment by moment.
Her heart seemed to stop.
"Senior… brother?"
This was her senior brother.
It could not be wrong.
Bosacius's karma had chosen him.
Everything linked at last. So that was it—so that was it!
She had been wrong—wrong from the start.
Ganyu finally saw the truth—what she had ignored on purpose, refused on purpose, for pride's sake.
Now she let that pride go. In her bleakest hour—she was saved again, as before. She looked to Kiyo Seigan with hope and lowered her eyes.
"Senior Brother… Senior Brother… have you come to save me?"
Kiyo Seigan lowered his gaze and, in his heart, whispered: I did not come only to save you.
To him, Ganyu was merely someone he'd met twice; not his junior sister. Like the countless others—he had not come to save one person, but everyone.
That was Kiyo Seigan's inner thought—but the karma used his body to speak—and even twisted part of it:
"No."
"You are not my junior. You killed me," the karma said, calm as ice. "Why should I save you?"
…
"…Eh?"
[Lv. 89]
The storm of karma converged in his chest; Kiyo Seigan's heart was swiftly defiled. Gritting his teeth, he clung to clarity by sheer will.