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Under the cover of night, Victor Wang's feet pressed against his scabbard as Anemo surged backward without regard for consumption.
The Battle Technique Hunter—more accurately, Isshin, The Cursed Blade—because it wielded the ability to influence time, had returned after two hundred years of silence. To its delight, the Raiden Shogun had withdrawn into seclusion, and finally it had the nerve to set its sights on the power left behind by the God of Time.
The South Wing, because Celestia had remained silent for five hundred years, during which Teyvat had decayed from a grand mansion into something dust-laden and drafty, intended to use extreme measures to awaken Celestia—perhaps by drawing out the God of Time, or by pushing Isshin, The Cursed Blade's powers to greater heights?
It was just like Kujou Takayuki's fanatical trust in the Raiden Shogun. Though he was being used by the Fatui, he shamelessly claimed he was the one exploiting them. He wholeheartedly believed that the Raiden Shogun's Musou no Hitotachi could cut down anything—yet never realized that he, too, was someone who might have to take that strike.
And while the Raiden Shogun could still be called awake… who could guarantee Celestia would ever awaken again?
They had to be stopped.
The nighttime mountains of Yashiori mirrored Victor Wang's unsettled mood. Hilichurl camps, Nobushi hideouts, electro and cryo slimes spawned by the thick elemental energy, Fatui soldiers, and those annoying fireflies… all sped past underfoot, until at last he neared the location of the Sacred Sakura's roots, just as he remembered.
Because both opponents were indeed strong—one of them a wielder of space itself—Victor Wang halted while still a fair distance away. He sent invisible streams of Anemo sneaking into the cave where the roots lay, while tilting his head to gaze at Yashiori's towering peak.
Even in the darkness, one could see it. Atop the mountain where the Grand Narukami Shrine stood was a ribbon of mist-like energy constantly flowing. Above, clusters of cherry blossoms bloomed vividly, their branches lit by lanterns casting a glow on vermilion beams and rafters.
Unable to find Beidou or Kaedehara Kazuha, his only options for aid were Kamisato Ayato or Yae Miko. The Grand Narukami Shrine was closer—and since this involved the Sacred Sakura, perhaps it would be easier to explain there.
This was the final section of the roots. Next came the Sacred Sakura itself. If he didn't seize this chance and they escaped… finding them again would be far harder.
"Hm?"
The wind returned its report: Isshin, The Cursed Blade had already pierced into the roots. How long would it take to siphon the power of time? The worst possibility was that even calling Yae Miko would come too late.
But that also made this an opportunity. Isshin, The Cursed Blade was immobile… making it easier both to rescue the Chief Instructor and to avoid facing two enemies at once.
Time waited for no one. After some hesitation, Victor Wang chose to advance alone.
This section of the root-laced cavern had two entrances: one obvious, guarded by the cursed weapon; the other winding and hidden, offering room to maneuver.
Victor Wang burst in at near maximum speed. At the same time, he raised thick stone walls from the mountain to separate Isshin, The Cursed Blade and its companion. Beneath the Chief Instructor's feet, he tilted up a jagged stone platform, hoping the impact would break his grip on the weapon.
Isshin, The Cursed Blade stood still, unresponsive. Yet the Chief Instructor clutched it so tightly that even as he staggered from the shock, he did not let go. The sword was nearly swallowed by the roots, and his refusal to release it meant neither a fall nor separation.
Victor Wang gritted his teeth. Behind him, a gust propelled him forward, while underfoot a rocky construct launched him like a catapult. He shot forward like a cannonball, straight at the cursed weapon. Just as he reached to pull the Chief Instructor away, a whip woven from metallic threads lashed toward him.
"The Demonic Ring can drag people's minds into illusions, and its range is far greater than the Demonic Sword. Touching its host's body is enough to be pulled inside… and once in its illusion, your body is controlled by it. The only way to break free is to sever contact. No method has been found to influence reality from inside the Demonic Ring's illusion. So, encountering the Demonic Ring alone means certain death."
Ryan had warned him long ago of the Demonic Ring's powers. Even knowing it was merely a weapon, Victor Wang dared not underestimate it. He conjured a thick stone shield upon his arm. Though it shattered under the whip's strike, it spared him from direct contact.
"Damn it, so close!"
"Heehee, what have we here? A little brat with guts. Don't tell me you thought I hadn't noticed you earlier?"
Though the separating wall of stone still stood, a shadow-faced, lanky woman effortlessly phased through it, wielding a whip over three meters long, her eyes locked hungrily on Victor Wang.
What now… run, or fight?
"So, you're the Demonic Ring of the Battle Technique Hunters?"
"Oho! You've heard of my great name. So, are you an enemy… or thinking of joining us?"
Victor Wang froze for a moment, then remembered—most Battle Technique Hunters were ordinary humans. Except for the Four Heavenly Kings and their leader, the majority were Vision bearers who had strayed from the right path.
"I could join?"
"Of course! Our creed is 'It's never too late to abandon good for evil.' As long as you devote yourself to villainy and destruction across Teyvat, our doors are always open! Whatever you were before doesn't matter—betrayal is the vice we admire most. The more rotten and twisted your heart, the more welcome you'll be!"
"…And what do I gain from this?"
"Nothing, really. But when you want to kill, burn, or sow chaos, you'll have kindred spirits by your side. Maybe they'll even help out for fun. Shared wickedness is so much better than solitary wickedness, don't you think? Are you tempted?"
Tempted, my ass.
Glancing at the unmoving Isshin, The Cursed Blade, Victor Wang asked, "You're not just stalling for time, are you?"
"Hey now! I'm dead serious. I've been waiting on that one for ages—it's boring as hell, ahahaha! Besides, with my power, why would I need to stall?"
"Then let me tell you this: your creed is rotten. To. The. Core!"
The cavern roared. From the ceiling, the walls, and the earth, geo energy surged forth, filling every inch until the cave became solid stone.
The way to counter space powers—was to leave no space.
Victor Wang and the Demonic Ring were both surrounded by constructs of rock, with no gap to spare. But wherever Victor Wang moved, the stone yielded to him, while around the Demonic Ring, it pressed in tighter and tighter.
This might be his only chance to save the Chief Instructor.
"Woooah!"
Even muffled through the rock, the Demonic Ring's gleeful cries carried. It almost seemed excited. But the sheer elemental consumption of sealing space while carving precise paths drained Victor Wang heavily. He had no time for thoughts beyond action.
The Chief Instructor and the roots of the Sacred Sakura were likewise encased, their confines almost airtight. Luckily, Vision bearers could endure long without breath. Now—finally—he reached again for the Chief Instructor.
But then, Victor Wang's vision spun. Above, the false starlit sky returned, and the stone walls suddenly stretched far away. His spirit reeled from the impact.
"I told you, you're the one stalling. I've just been playing along."
The Demonic Ring's grin split wide, revealing pale teeth. Her impossibly long whip lashed forward. Though it seemed distant, in the next instant it was already upon him.
Clutching his temple with one hand, Victor Wang frantically threw up a makeshift Jade Shield. The whip failed to shatter it—but had another trick. The metal threads composing it splintered into countless short strands, which suddenly appeared inside the shield.
Too slow to react, the cluster of broken threads pierced his hand, stinging sharply.
No good. He had to escape—up the mountain, to the Grand Narukami Shrine—
Victor Wang drove his sword greaves hard, flying toward the shrine.
The Demonic Ring lazily coiled her whip and slipped it into some unknown pocket of space. Watching his fleeing back, her smile grew wider and brighter. "Run! Run faster! Otherwise, I might just catch you!"
Yashiori Mountain was tall, though not as tall as Pilos Peak. Yet in Victor Wang's eyes, it loomed higher still.
Sensing something amiss in the Demonic Ring's reaction, he gritted his teeth and used a geo blade to slice open his hand, trying to carve out the threads.
But then darkness fell before his eyes. His body dropped as though into a bottomless pit, falling without end. When his sight adjusted, he realized he was not alone—countless others plummeted alongside him.
Some eyes were already vacant. Some clung to a last thread of reason. Some flailed silently, mouths open as if to speak—but no sound came.
Above, nothing. Below, nothing. All around, only people. Yet the only sound he could hear was his own voice—accompanied by the endless sensation of falling. He had entered the Demonic Ring's illusion.
The only way to break free is to sever contact. No method exists to influence reality from within the illusion. To face the Demonic Ring alone is certain death…
Too reckless. I knew it was dangerous to face her alone—I shouldn't have taken the gamble…
It was over.
This time, truly over. His spirit trapped here, denied even the chance of rebirth so long as he did not die.
Was it the end?
If Isshin, The Cursed Blade's illusion had a way to be broken… could the Demonic Ring's also hold a flaw?
Victor Wang refused to accept fate. Thoughts whirled through his mind. Isshin's illusion could be pierced by realizing it was false. But the Demonic Ring's made no pretense at all—it was blatantly unnatural.
If I could reverse direction, or reach the bottom of this fall… Damn it, all my strength is stripped away!
As he twisted and tested his body for some weakness in the illusion, the world suddenly spun. He was still falling, but now the rush of wind howled in his ears.
"You okay?"
Opening his eyes, he found himself cradled in someone's arms.