Controlled by a single unified consciousness—what Victor Wang practiced daily was the splitting of spirit. But once each fragment gained its own independent awareness, it became dissociative identity—what mortals called multiple personality disorder.
The question was: 'How can emotions be anchored into spirit? What exactly are emotions? Can they truly be separated?'
Victor Wang split his spirit into two, attempting to observe any difference.
From past experience, such a split always produced a primary consciousness and a secondary consciousness: the primary overseeing the whole, the secondary executing simple tasks.
But the result was far from ideal.
Even if he divided his mind in two, the secondary was still nothing more than a projection under the primary's control. Once the primary's focus drifted, the secondary simply vanished. There was no clear hierarchy at all—there had only ever been one true consciousness.
Realizing this, Victor Wang began recalling everything he had learned in Teyvat, searching for a method of breaking through.
The first thing that came to mind was the boundary between life and death.
After death, if one's obsession was too strong, they became a wandering spirit. Once such spirits returned to the ley lines, their emotions and memories were extracted and scattered.
To those unable to manipulate spiritual force, spirit was intangible, the body its vessel.
But to those who could, the body was tangible strength bearing spirit, while spirit was intangible strength bearing will—emotions, memories, beliefs. To reach further into such things was as difficult as teaching someone blind to suddenly perceive light.
"Could it be that only after death, when transformed into a relic, could one truly touch such things? Narzissenkreuz… Rene de Petrichor, how did you accomplish 'severing three selves'? Is this the difference between genius and ordinary men?"
Speaking of touching—if it was only touching he sought…
Victor Wang untied one of the crimson cords bound at his wrist. Immediately, malice and bloodlust surged forth. There was no doubt—these belonged to intense emotions, precisely what he sought to carve away.
"To grasp sword will, one must not only treat the blade as an extension of the body… but also as an extension of will."
"A sword controlled by emotion alone can also be considered as having touched the threshold of sword will. It even has a name—Heart Sword."
"But the Heart Sword cannot last. It is merely a method of amplifying emotions. In the end, one either shatters their Dao-heart upon failure or loses themselves to obsession."
These were the very words Jiang Xue once told him. The memory of slaying the Mitachurl King came vividly back to him—it matched those descriptions perfectly.
Then, to embody bloodlust itself… wouldn't it suffice to provoke it with combat?
Victor Wang swung the Wentian Sword wildly at the falling leaves. But it wasn't enough. His mind remained too clear, unable to slip into the Heart Sword state.
He untied the other crimson cord on his wrist. His killing intent instantly doubled, the surge of malice shaking the very mountain and drawing the attention of an adeptus.
"You are playing with fire." Cloud Retainer's voice rang out from the mountain peak.
"Since someone has already helped me draw these things out, if I can suppress them… then I should be able to sever them directly, right?"
"…"
Murderous aura coiled around his body, the urge to slaughter unceasing. Yet still… it was not enough. This degree alone was insufficient to make it independent of his own consciousness.
"Adeptus, I must trouble you to watch over me."
"Hmph."
Five crimson cords, three already undone. Victor Wang gripped the Wentian Sword, staring blankly at an innocent tree. He dared not swing again—not yet. The opportunity would only come once. If the primary consciousness was wholly drowned in killing intent, he would lose all control.
By the time Shenhe, returning in haste from her walk, arrived at the mountain's foot, she saw this very scene.
"You wish to discard the crimson cords so desperately? If the malice corrodes your spirit again…"
"One cord… so long as one cord remains, I can keep my clarity… just a little more…"
His movements stiff, Victor Wang slowly removed another cord—this time from his ankle. Only one remained: the cord around his neck.
In Shenhe's heterochromatic eyes, worry brimmed. Her heart tightened.
Cloud Retainer remained composed, commenting, "This murderous aura already surpasses Shenhe's own."
The malice was indeed overwhelming. At last, the killing intent began actively intruding upon Victor Wang's mind, whispering endlessly like a voice at his ear, urging him to massacre.
But this was what Victor Wang had been waiting for. With the last vestiges of his reason, he pretended to agree, chanting 'kill, kill, kill' alongside it. He painstakingly lured that pure bloodlust into shaping itself into a separate persona, a killing persona distinct from his ordinary self.
The killing intent surged, gathering entirely, desperate for release.
With a single strike, Victor Wang brought down the Wentian Sword upon the tree.
The killing will roared into the blade, cloaking both steel and sword energy in black-red malice. It yearned to pierce flesh, to tear apart enemies. The tree stood no chance—split apart by the wave of murderous sword qi that traveled far beyond before reluctantly dissipating.
And then—the killing persona, still seething with frenzy, realized it had been betrayed. It had been cut off, isolated from the conscious mind.
The secondary consciousness Victor Wang had long practiced—though simple, as with controlling Erosion Blast to spin wind endlessly—was sufficient for one task alone: to seal away the voice of the killing persona. Never again could it intrude upon the primary mind.
'This should be far easier than severing three selves,' Victor Wang thought.
He had not truly separated the persona by his own strength. In the end, he had only carved away a single emotion—bloodlust. He had used the unique qualities of killing intent to cheat his way into separation.
But… it was enough.
The murderous aura vanished in an instant. The emotions suppressed by the crimson cords gradually returned. And he had gained an authentic taste of treating the sword as an extension of will—a revelation that would aid him greatly in attaining sword will.
"It… actually worked."
"You don't seem surprised, Adeptus."
"The principle is clear. The process, evident. Nothing worth surprise."
Of the five crimson cords, four were gone. Only the one at his neck remained. The remainder of his killing intent was too little to birth another persona, and the suppression of emotions was nearly negligible. Victor Wang had no plan to remove it for now.
He stroked the cords he had untied and asked, "What about these cords?"
"Return the one at your neck to Shenhe. The others, you may keep. They are cages wrought of spirit force—loosen them, and bloodlust will seep out again. Besides, aside from you and Shenhe, no one else requires them."
"That cord… belongs to Shenhe?" Victor Wang turned toward her, noticing that the Vision usually tied to her hair now hung at her waist. Indeed—one cord was missing.
"I don't want it back."
"Uh…"
Was I just rejected?
"I want to remove the cords too. I want to know if emotions are truly so beautiful—if they are worth the risk."
Relief washed over Victor Wang—it wasn't rejection after all. "Then I can teach you the method of splitting spirit, the technique of severing soul and sealing thought. That way, you won't have to rely on the cords."
"It won't work."
Cloud Retainer interjected, shaking her head.
"The method you speak of—splitting spirit—is already the most basic adeptal art. Shenhe does not need you to teach it.
What you have done is but a half-measure. You only sealed away the malice once drawn out by the Abyss Order's hammer-blow. That is not true severance of selves. Emotions cannot be sealed. When killing intent rises again, bloodlust will naturally reawaken—though within normal bounds, it will dissipate harmlessly.
But Shenhe's malice is rooted deep within her heart. Since her childhood battles against demons, it has raged within her. Forcible suppression only buys time. Each time her killing intent resurfaces, it will return stronger, even rebounding upon her.
As for severing three selves, I have studied it. Casting away emotion along with its root is indeed effective. Yet it is merely a sturdier cord, nothing more.
To truly face malice without suppression, Shenhe must control it herself. Or… one day, allow other emotions, brighter ones, to outweigh it."
"I will work hard," Shenhe said firmly.
"It pleases me to hear such resolve. I have long awaited your change. But you must proceed step by step. Hm… speaking of which, when you were unbound by cords, fierce as you were—you were also adorable. That side of you, I have not seen in so long."
"Master… enough, please."
"What is it? Why can I not say so?"
"…"
Cloud Retainer was pulled away by Shenhe. Left alone, Victor Wang recalled the sensation of channeling killing intent into his blade.
If one could freely alter the will extended into the sword, allowing that will to shape both blade and sword qi—then one had truly attained sword will.
Training long delayed now called out to him.
Sword form required the honing of the body.
Sword qi required sensing of spiritual force.
Sword will required sensing of will itself.
Though it bore the name of martial cultivation, it demanded ceaseless growth of spirit and mind.
Marvelous.
And then he wondered—what must a sword deity accomplish? Could it be nothing less than 'severing three selves'?
While his hands still remembered, Victor Wang swung again and again, chasing that feeling…