Ninety-five percent of the karmic burdens currently within Elliot's body originated from what he seized from Xiao. Meanwhile, the karmic burdens within Xiao's body all stemmed from the resentment of the sealed demon gods bound to this land.
They were all gods defeated by Morax in the past.
In other words, during this Archon War, those very gods would still appear in the Liyue region. And if Elliot were to intervene and confront them, they would resonate with the karmic burdens inside his body.
His current Spirit Bar barely sufficed to suppress them.
After acquiring the skill [Thousand Thoughts in a Single Moment], his Spirit Bar had increased severalfold. With that, Elliot only needed to perform the Calming Chant once every two or three days to keep them firmly suppressed.
But after his Eighth Life, when he became infected by the Abyss, the situation changed. Now he needed to perform the Calming Chant every half day; otherwise, his Spirit would reach a critical state.
"I cannot intervene..."
"Then Morax must shoulder this responsibility."
"I will support him, but he must grow into it."
Elliot's brow furrowed deeply.
He finally understood why this was the Ninth Life.
This would be his most difficult incarnation.
In the past, his lives were either directly controlled by himself, or they involved guiding much younger individuals.
When he acted directly, no matter how difficult the challenge, Elliot always found a way to overcome it. He had transformed from someone incapable of defeating Orobashi into a warrior whose single hand alone earned him the right to replace Zebul in the Khaenri'ah War.
The price was steep—demanding endless training and relentless cultivation. Yet with conviction, nothing had ever been truly insurmountable.
Others, like Hu Tao, Qiqi, Eula, and Ningguang, were younger and more dependent, making them easy to guide.
But this time was entirely different.
Now, Elliot had to guide Morax, who had lived for more than three thousand six hundred years.
By now, Morax had a fully formed worldview of his own.
If it were only a matter of temperament, it would have been simple enough. Take his earlier arrogance, for example—humbling him thoroughly in battle had been enough to force a change of heart.
But if someone were inherently opportunistic and self-serving, persuading them to abandon their interests to help others was far harder. In such cases, even wearing out your lips pleading was pointless, because the other party simply could not understand the meaning or purpose of your actions.
Such deeply ingrained beliefs could only be shaken by monumental events.
"Brother! Come back quickly! I've crafted another new weapon!"
At that moment, Morax's voice reached Elliot's ears.
Elliot pulled himself from his thoughts and walked back.
"Look! This grain, this texture—isn't it a top-tier divine Bow!"
Morax proudly presented a Bow and arrow to Elliot.
"It's handsome, sure. But how's the power?" Elliot nodded, studying it with interest.
"It certainly won't disappoint!" Morax immediately notched a slender arrow and drew the Bow to its fullest.
"Watch closely!"
With that, he released the string. The arrow shot out at incredible speed—but at first glance, it seemed no different from an ordinary arrow. Nothing extraordinary.
But Elliot's assumption was shattered in the next instant.
"Open!" Morax bellowed. A large section broke off from the arrow's tail, propelling it forward at terrifying velocity.
The arrow's immense speed ignited the air itself, trailing fire as it tore forward. A faint whistling pierced the sky, sharp as if space itself had been ripped apart.
"Hmm, that's a clever idea," Elliot said with a satisfied smile.
The technique—detaching mid-flight to unleash a secondary burst—was reminiscent of rockets and missiles back on Blue Star.
"Heh heh, this isn't over. Watch me fire another one."
This time, Morax pulled out a thicker arrow from the void and drew back the Bow once more.
As Elliot expected, the arrow split apart mid-flight. What appeared to be a single arrow fractured into five, catching an opponent completely off guard.
"Impressive progress. I approve," Elliot said, genuinely satisfied.
"Of course! I spent ages perfecting this!" Morax beamed with pride, admiring the Bow in his hands.
It was worth noting that ever since Elliot had once told him, "giving up is just another form of effort," Morax had developed a strange habit. Before crafting any weapon, he would always bellow:
"Let's give up!"
Only then would he begin working with full focus.
Over time, Elliot had even started to be influenced by him, sometimes almost carried away by the phrase himself.
"Which weapon is this?"
"The tenth."
"Bro, you told me before that if I crafted ten distinct weapons and earned your approval for each, you'd teach me something even more powerful."
"Now that I've done it, does that mean..." Morax raised an eyebrow suggestively.
This was the agreement Elliot had made after Morax first created the Magic Scale Spear.
It was their contract.
Beyond that first spear, Morax had to create nine more distinct weapons, each unique in design, and each had to earn Elliot's approval to count.
Over the years, Elliot had rejected dozens outright.
But during this time, Morax's mindset had gradually grown steadier. After all, true creation required calm focus.