"With my current strength... can I actually defeat a creature like the Cryo Regisvine?" Victor Wang leaned against the wall, questioning himself earnestly.
There was no way he was going to grind commissions for a whole year to become a Senior Adventurer. By that time, he'd probably be in Fontaine already.
Among Mondstadt's creatures of that caliber were the Anemo, Electro, and Cryo Hypostases, and the Cryo Regisvine.
Each of the Hypostasis types had a revival mechanic.
The Cryo Hypostasis was located in the frigid mountain region—already a deadly environment. Without torches, even Vision holders could freeze to death. And its desperate last stand attack? Brutal. Even in the game, that's where people often dropped to critical HP.
The Anemo Hypostasis was immune to Anemo damage, so Victor would need a portable elemental particle generator to trigger Swirl reactions. He'd be dodging constantly, and who knew who'd end up getting tossed around?
The Electro Hypostasis wasn't too bad—just hard to get in close. If only I had Yoimiya… or even Amber... Wait no—this is an advancement test, can't rely on others.
After all that thinking, the large-bodied Cryo Regisvine seemed the most manageable. If he could just strike its weak point, it would become completely vulnerable.
Even if its weak spot switched to the corolla, which was harder to reach, it would eventually cycle back to the root where it generated unstable elemental energy. He just needed to survive until then.
Hoo~
Exhaling deeply, Victor Wang made up his mind. Before he left Mondstadt for Liyue, he would take down the Cryo Regisvine—and join the North Wing.
Instead of resuming sword practice as planned, he turned back toward the Goth Grand Hotel to see if Lumine was still in her room.
After knocking twice, Little Wen shouted inside the room: ["Hey! Unidentified Flying Object, someone's looking for you!"]
But no answer came.
Victor Wang stood quietly outside Lumine's door, lost in thought:
The Cryo Regisvine, thanks to its size alone, was fundamentally different from something like a Whopperflower in three major ways.
First: weight.
Even among those with Vision-granted strength, not everyone could toss loaded carts like Noelle or lift massive floating stones like Shenhe.
So, the Cryo Regisvine could deal serious damage just from sheer mass.
Second: elemental density.
Though not a pure elemental creature, the Regisvine housed a high concentration of elemental energy. In such semi-elemental beings, size was directly proportional to power.
And most of its attacks were area-based. Without Zhongli's shield, even with considerable elemental protection, Victor dared not block head-on.
Third: vitality.
Like the difference between a sapling and a giant tree. A Whopperflower might be bisected with a clean strike—but the Regisvine? Its girth alone made that nearly impossible.
What would be fatal to a Whopperflower might barely scratch the Regisvine.
Victor paid no attention to the occasional tenants passing by—he was too deep in thought.
Of the three aspects above, the first two meant he had to be nimble enough to avoid attacks. The third meant his offensive capabilities had to scale up significantly.
Thankfully, the entire point of refining his martial arts was to dodge attacks and land them effectively.
Victor wasn't certain he could dodge the Regisvine's strikes reliably, which was why he'd wanted to ask Lumine for tips on fighting large foes. Unfortunately, she was already out.
"Lumine, Lumine… what are you always so busy with?"
With no choice, he turned to testing his new offensive technique.
The day before creating the sword spirit Little Wen, Victor had managed to split his focus over fifty times through mental training alone.
That's when the idea struck: both Gale Blade and Wind's Grand Ode used vacuum currents to pull in and cut enemies—what if he sacrificed control to maximize damage output?
So, he tried constructing a solid version of the Gale Blade: layers of wind spinning tightly around a central core, with outer layers locking it in—creating what amounted to a true wind sphere.
The outermost layers were largest, consuming the most energy, and the whole structure demanded tremendous elemental and mental power due to the split-focus operation.
But the destructive power? Exceptional.
So, no exaggeration—this move needed to be tested outdoors.
Three days had passed, taken up by dying and searching for the instructor. Victor hadn't had time to notice Timmy on Mondstadt Bridge.
Now, crossing the bridge again, he noticed something different: Timmy wasn't feeding his pigeons. He sat quietly on the outer ledge of the bridge, facing Springvale, chin propped in his hands.
A few pigeons—ones Victor could name—rested on his head and shoulders, accompanying his daze.
Victor recalled what Draff had said while drinking with him. He guessed what had happened, brushed aside a few birds, and sat beside Timmy.
"What's wrong?"
Timmy turned to glance at him. His eyes held sorrow, weight, confusion—and a touch of fear.
"My dad's not coming back."
Tears welled up with those calm words. Timmy didn't bother wiping them away, just turned his head, letting them slide from his eyes, across his nose, down to his lips.
Yeah… I know. I understand.
Victor had felt that fear before—not this time with the instructor, but something older.
His grandfather had been a kind man. When Victor was the family's favorite child, Grandpa always picked him and his brother up from school. Later, it was him and his sister.
Grandpa would secretly slip them pocket money, bring toys and snacks back from outings, and take the three siblings fishing or playing the erhu on holidays...
Then one day—he was just gone.
Victor's grief had been paired with terror. He realized that one day, his parents would grow old and pass before him.
Separation meant not knowing when you'd meet again.
Death meant never meeting again.
Whether you liked it or not, familiar sights would bring back that person—what they would've done, how they might have reacted… then the crushing truth: they're not here anymore.
It's not just the loss of protection, of someone to shield you from death—it's the loss of something irreplaceable. A part of your life, forever gone.
Victor sat with Timmy in silence for ten minutes. Then, he said:
"Remember the story I told you? About the child and the pigeon? 'Even if I'm gone, I'll still live in your heart. Just don't forget me.' People die twice—once when their body dies, and once when they're forgotten.
"As long as you remember your dad… he's still alive."
Words couldn't change reality. But like a sip of wine—sometimes people needed that comfort.
"I already suspected it… but don't worry. I'm strong."
Tears fell silently into Cider Lake, but no water spirits emerged this time to console the boy.
"I believe you." Victor brushed the pigeons off Timmy's head and gently patted him, then got up to leave.
…
"Erosion Blast!"
In the empty forest, Victor shouted the name like a true anime protagonist—believing that naming your moves made them ten times stronger.
In his right palm, a dense wind sphere formed—its color as rich as the emerald hue of an Anemo Vision.
The outermost layer of wind spun so fast it created a visible illusion of reversal. Gaps in the outer shell revealed the onion-like inner layers—spinning in the opposite direction. It almost looked technological.
But get too close, and those layers of wind blades would shred anything from the outside in—like helicopter rotors with no mercy.
Fifty-eight layers. That was Victor's current limit. The orb was just smaller than a basketball. During the battle against Isshin, he'd only managed thirty layers due to mental fatigue.
The sheer rotational speed and compact layering meant this one attack used as much elemental energy as two full-sized Gale Blades.
Focused, he pushed the Erosion Blast toward a large tree.
The spinning layers burrowed effortlessly into the trunk, boring a perfect cylindrical hole clean through—and out the other side.
The damage was localized, not spilling out. Only the touched surface was affected.
Now the tree had a pristine, tunnel-like hole through its center.
"This thing eats up a ton of elemental power. Definitely in the Elemental Burst tier."
Victor pressed it against a boulder next. The solid rock crumbled like tofu.
"Kind of bullying to use this on non-elemental objects, huh?"
Grinning, he embedded the Erosion Blast into a cliff face.
What he was about to do made him nervous: he was going to completely release control and trigger a detonation.
He'd learned that the farther his elemental constructs were from him, the more energy they consumed.
If he lost control before retreating far enough, he'd end up blowing himself up.
He carefully pulled his hand away. The orb stayed embedded. He stepped back—one step, two…
When he was far enough, the 58-layer wind construct began to destabilize—but not all at once.
In his fight with Isshin, the Erosion Blast had exploded outright once it lost control. This time, he slowly released the inner layers first.
They strained to expand, but the still-controlled outer layers compressed them—like a firecracker waiting to burst.
Since his mental power was holding the outer shell in place, the drain on his focus spiked drastically.
When he finally let go—
BOOM!
The orb didn't just swell—it detonated, carving a one-meter-wide spherical crater into the cliff.
Stone turned to powder.
A regular Gale Blade might've left a scratch at most.
"Not bad. But yeah… mental drain's rough. At this level, I can probably use it two or three times max before burning out."