After an unknown span of time, Elliot finally came to terms with his new reality. Gradually, he began to explore the abilities and authority he had inherited.
Sitting within his residence on Celestia, Elliot could oversee the entirety of Teyvat from where he sat.
No corner of the continent escaped his sight—it was as if he possessed the very Eye of God itself.
He could see Morax and Guizhong, as well as the Adepti and Yaksha.
He could see Barbatos in Mondstadt, Baal and Zebul in Inazuma.
Even the dark, silent depths of the ocean were clear before his eyes.
To him, Teyvat held no secrets.
No wonder the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles had always known who had dared read Before Sun and Moon, or what experiments Khaenri'ah was conducting.
Everything was laid bare—utterly transparent.
And this was only Celestia's surveillance function.
Elliot had gained several new powers: Life, Death, Space, Time, and above all, The Sustainer of Heavenly Principles—the force that governed them all.
The power of Life was simple enough to grasp. Trees, flowers, birds, beasts—he could create them all with a mere gesture, crafting life from nothing.
Death was its opposite. Anything that lived could be reduced to nothing in an instant—life fading, death claiming all.
The power of Space allowed him to erect immense barriers, walls of air impervious to harm, or teleport anywhere across the vast continent of Teyvat.
In other words, with a blink, he could appear anywhere—instantly, without limit—and could teleport others just as easily.
Time, however, was even more unfathomable. He could manipulate it on an individual or a wide scale.
On an individual level, he could accelerate his own flow of time—aging faster while the world remained unchanged—or reverse it, becoming younger instead.
On a broader scale, he could advance or reverse time within an entire region, bending its flow at will.
As for the power of The Sustainer of Heavenly Principles itself—it was mastery over all four abilities combined, control of Celestia, and ascension into a realm beyond measure.
At that level, Elliot had become the absolute ruler of Teyvat. Everything born of this world was beneath his command.
However, beings like the Lord of the Netherworld did not belong to Teyvat—they existed beyond its domain.
Thus, the Lord of the Netherworld's power was not bound by the laws of this world.
The same applied to the Abyss—they too were not creations of Teyvat.
"Since things have come to this, I suppose I must officially declare the end of the Archon War before the Ninth Life can be completed," Elliot murmured.
"So... that means I can decide when to end it myself?"
After all, as the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles, the war would end the moment he willed it.
But now, the war was already in its final stages. The order of the world had largely taken shape. Ending it now or later made little difference.
Most of the godss had already fallen; only a few lingered, hiding within isolated domains, too afraid to continue fighting.
Still, an end was necessary—Elliot had to return.
"Let me see… what's left unfinished?" he mused.
Guizhong and Marchosius were alive.
The God of Salt, Havria, had already been absorbed by the Lord of the Netherworld—that was fine.
She had despised war, and merging her strength with the Netherworld to destroy the old Sustainer had been a fitting end, much like Orobashi.
Azhdaha's domain beneath the Chasm was stable—there would be no reckless exploitation.
The Yaksha...
"Oh, right." Elliot turned toward the Lord of the Netherworld. "You only took their souls, correct? Will the sealed gods still harbor resentment and spawn karmic debt?"
"No," replied the Lord of the Netherworld. "Their hatred was born from their rebellion against the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles. Now that she's dead, their resentment has vanished."
"That's good... that's good."
The Yaksha would be safe too—they would no longer lose themselves to madness while cleansing the corruption of the world.
If everything was stable... then only one matter remained.
Khaenri'ah.
The Archon War was nearly over, and by now Khaenri'ah should have risen.
Once it was gone, the world would finally be at peace.
Though Khaenri'ah had yet to make a move, Elliot wasn't about to wait for them to act first.
He had no interest in persuading them gently to abandon their pursuit of the Abyss and forbidden technology.
People are defiant by nature—the more you tell them not to do something, the more determined they become. Better to end it swiftly and spare the world greater pain.
And this time, destroying Khaenri'ah meant its people wouldn't become twisted husks—no Hilichurls, no abyssal corruption.
Elliot vanished without a sound.
A deafening BOOM tore across the land.
In an instant, Khaenri'ah was no more.
The calamity struck so suddenly that nearby nations didn't even have time to react.
"The most troublesome one, Khaenri'ah, is dealt with. The Millelith won't have to throw their lives away fighting monsters now."
"In Inazuma, Chiyo, Kitsune Saiguu, and Baal will all be safe as well."
"Hmm... that should just about do it."
But Elliot didn't end it there.
He pondered for several more days, until at last, one final thought came to him.
"Are you really going to do this?" asked the Lord of the Netherworld, sensing Elliot's intent before he acted.
"This is the final matter," Elliot said quietly. "And since I'll be leaving, I want to do just a little more for them before I go."
"You haven't changed at all," the Lord of the Netherworld said with a sigh. "Fine—do as you wish."
He didn't try to stop him; it would have been useless anyway. In some things, Elliot's resolve was absolute—and he knew it well.
"Morax," Elliot whispered, "this is my final condition."
"When we made that pact, you promised not to seek me again—but you broke that promise."
"So, as compensation, this time I'll make the choice myself—without asking for your consent."
Then, Elliot raised his hand and invoked his power.
He erased his very existence from the world.
From that moment on, everyone who had known or remembered him would forget that he had ever existed.
"Forget me."
In this way, even after he was gone, Morax would feel no grief, no burden—only peace. He would remember nothing of Elliot's name, his deeds, or his sacrifice.