"Damn, the Core Meteorite—it's cracking on its own!"
The boat was still making its way toward Falcon Coast when the bored Paimon first noticed the anomaly. By the time Lumine and Mona turned to look, the core was already riddled with massive fractures running from top to bottom.
"Could it be… Victor fulfilled Leonard's thousand-year-old wish?"
Mona's guess had barely left her lips when the core silently shattered into drifting powder. All across Mondstadt and Liyue, the fallen meteorites likewise crumbled into dust. Slowly, Victor Wang opened his eyes.
"Victor, what happened in the dream?"
With a trace of wistfulness, Victor lifted his gaze to the clear blue sky and answered softly, "...I reached the summit of Pilos Peak."
"And? What did that Fatui discover?"
Victor opened his mouth, then hesitated. How could he explain? That the stars above were formed of abyssal power? That every star was a constellation, tied to human spirit? That the sky itself was nothing more than a colossal eggshell?
Instead, he asked back: "Mona, in your astrologers' understanding, what exactly are 'stars' and 'constellations'?"
"Why ask that all of a sudden? A constellation is formed by several stars, a reflection of a Vision holder's destiny upon the sky. Past, present, future—it all shines there. And each constellation is a real celestial body, not just some abstract concept."
Her words echoed almost word-for-word the lines from her profile in the game. Looking back, it all made sense: if a person could literally soar among the stars, then deciphering a star would naturally reveal their past and present. But still…
"Limited to Vision holders? Leonard never had a Vision."
"Heh-heh." Mona smirked smugly. "You've spotted the loophole. That's why Leonard didn't have a complete constellation—likely just a single star."
"So ordinary people can have constellations too… Then, which came first—Leonard, or his star?"
"Worlds change, but sun and moon endure. Leonard's star has lasted at least two thousand years, while Leonard himself has long since passed. What do you think?"
Victor knew the answer: stars outlived men. Yet after death, souls were meant to enter the ley lines, where memories, feelings, and personality would be stripped away. How, then, had Leonard's memories lingered for millennia in his constellation?
'It's enough to be etched upon one's constellation.' Leonard's words echoed. Was it that this monumental experience was recognized by his star, recorded there instead of the ley lines, spared from becoming some mere artifact?
If every star corresponded to a person, then what happened when that person was cycled into the ley lines? Would the star change, or remain tied to them forever?
The relationships between stars, ley lines, and people—what were they truly?
"So… what's the real connection between stars and humans?"
"...What exactly did you see?"
"The stars are false. The sky is false. That Harbinger was right."
In the end, Victor only repeated Scaramouche's words. This world was becoming ever more tangled. Better not to stir further chaos.
…
Half a month passed since the meteorite incident.
Since then, Victor had returned to Wangshu Inn, training his sword with discipline.
Having touched both the intent of severing reeds and the intent of climbing, his practice in fusing sword techniques with sword intent advanced more smoothly than Jiang Xue had predicted.
"Good. Though sword intent is imbued by the wielder, it also flows naturally from the founder's own intent, aligning in style. An aggressive form demands aggressive intent; a flowing form demands calm intent. Only in harmony can both reach their peak."
"But the next step… is to abandon sword forms again, isn't it?" Victor stroked the Wentian Sword. With a usable Anemo sword intent at last, he had crossed that threshold.
"Heh, your comprehension is high. Back then, I was shackled by sword forms and techniques. I practiced like a madman—studying even recipes I found on my travels, hoping to glimpse swordsmanship within them. But a recipe is just a recipe…"
Jiang Xue chuckled bitterly at the memory.
"Only because you guided me did I find this path. I can guess: the next stage is to wield sword intent freely, not bound to forms, but flowing with each strike. Beyond that, though… I don't know where to go."
"Beyond that, you must forge your own style. Once you master sword intent, you'll have to create a form suited to your strongest, deepest intent—a style that only you can wield at full power. But the road to your personal sword style will be the second-longest journey of your path."
Victor sheathed his blade, leaping from the banks of Dihua Marsh back to Wangshu Inn's pier. Curiosity sparkled in his eyes. "And the first-longest?"
"The realm of Sword God."
"What kind of realm is that?"
Jiang Xue didn't rush to answer. He lifted his fishing rod, signaling for Victor to watch. With a swift yank, the hook came up empty as usual. He cast again into Bishui River. This time, the line drew taut in midair, as if pulled by an unseen hand. Ripples spread across the water, and when he reeled in, a massive fish was dragged back—hooked not by the barb, but by sword aura extending from it.
"A Sword God wields sword aura at will. Though lacking elemental attributes, a Sword God's sword aura rivals elemental power in every other way."
So cool. No wonder the instructor had said a Sword God could surpass most Vision holders.
"How can one reach that level?"
"Sword forms temper the body. Sword intent unites man and blade. Both are achievable through effort. But Sword God is different—it is the harmony of man and heaven. It requires resonance with the world itself. It cannot be forced."
Stowing the rod, Jiang Xue hugged the still-floating fish and prepared to return to the inn.
"Come. Another feast tonight. But you must leave soon. Cutting reeds here is useless now—you need to travel, to temper yourself, to master sword intent."
Victor bowed deeply behind him. "Thank you for your guidance."
Jiang Xue waved a hand casually. "Don't be so formal. You caught the fish, I just kept my end of the deal. And really, I never taught you any actual moves."
"If you don't mind, I'd call you my teacher."
"Think what you like. Just don't say it aloud—Yanxiao would never let me hear the end of it."
"Got it."
After another hearty feast, Victor lay in bed, reflecting on the month's events.
The most important remained the meteorite incident half a month prior.
Leonard's dream had revealed the truth of the 'false sky'—yet only deepened the mystery.
The eggshell around Teyvat was surely Phanes' creation. But what of the stars? Were they Phanes' work too? Why separate humanity from their stars?
Why use abyssal power for the stars, when the land itself rejected the abyss? Was it to keep humanity from wielding it?
If someone's constellation were destroyed—would they die?
Too many questions without answers. Even asking someone knowledgeable, like Zhongli, yielded only silence. Some truths had to be discovered firsthand.
"…Sigh."
Meanwhile, Dragonspine had opened to adventurers.
The Knights of Favonius and Adventurers' Guild encouraged exploration under safe conditions. Rumors spread of a "cursed sword" within the mountain, pursued by adventurers, Treasure Hoarders, and Fatui alike.
He had read the hints in coded commissions. Because of the name "Cursed Sword," the North Wing branch spent great effort investigating. But this wasn't the famed blade of the Battle Technique Hunters' Four Kings . Its true name was the Festering Desire; a sinister weapon forged from Durin's remains.
Lumine had stopped by Wangshu Inn days ago and confirmed this firsthand. Just like in The Chalk Prince and the Dragon, Albedo had entrusted the sword to her.
Poor Lumine—at last she had her first four-star weapon.
Lastly, his own growth.
After a full month, his stagnant swordsmanship advanced clearly. His normal strikes now rivaled his elemental skill in power; a slash imbued with intent could cleave stone walls, something a wind blade couldn't do.
Even his shield strengthened from studying the runic stones, though it still paled before Zhongli's. At least now it was worthy of being called a proper elemental skill.
His number of spiritual projections steadily grew to 126. An Erosion Blast of one hundred wind blades already rivaled Venti's ultimate. Of course, the cost was immense—more like an actual burst than a skill.
And Jiang Xue had told him: "Sword intent breathes life into your blade. Willpower can breathe life into your elemental skills."
"To imbue will into elemental skills?"
Given time, sword intent could indeed reinforce his elemental powers. As Jiang Xue said, it was his turn to polish them himself. Staying here slashing reeds would bring nothing new.
The next destination was already set: the Lost Kingdom of the Thousand Winds. Tomorrow, he would depart.