"Whew… that side's finally done. I wonder how Grand Sage Idris is holding up."
At Sumeru's southwest gate, Paimon watched the Traveler pull her sword from the last monster's carcass. She glanced toward Marana's hulking avatar, worry etched all over her face.
Ying stuffed a bit of rations into her mouth to steady herself, then swept a look across the blood-slick street. "There aren't many left who can still fight."
It was, after all, the charge of nearly five centuries' worth of Withering-tainted beasts. Even Vision holders were exhausted after carving through that tide.
She looked again at Marana.
The Prime Machine God and Idris's lone surviving black clone didn't look much better. A deep crack ran along one of the mech's arms from those bone-rattling slugfests. The dark clone's clothes were in tatters; at some point, a Withering thorn had sheared off his left arm. If he'd been flesh and blood, he'd have bled out already.
Most worrying was Idris himself. It had been five or six minutes since Marana swallowed him. No one knew what was happening inside that thing.
Ying rose, still bent with fatigue, and started toward the colossus.
"Traveler, you're in no shape for another high-intensity—"
"I'm going anyway." Ying's voice was stubborn, step after step. "I never apologized to the Grand Sage for misunderstanding him. And I refuse to believe he's dead. So I'm going to save him."
"Heh. Of course you are. We are too."
Other Sumeru Vision holders, hearing Ying, stepped forward as well—Nilu among them, pretty face streaked with blood. She met Ying's eyes and nodded. The girl who'd "ruined" her date with Idris had more than earned a pass today.
They gathered, ready to strike at Marana together—even worn out as they were.
And then—
A ragged howl ripped out of Marana's maw.
An evil-aura longblade punched up through the treetop "skull," blowing a huge hole near the crown. Above that lay the core—its most fragile point.
A figure wreathed in golden light burst from inside. Vines unspooled beneath his boots like a Somersault Cloud, bearing Idris aloft as he arrowed straight for the moon-pale eye.
"Time to end this. Break!"
Marana tried to yank the eye back into its body again, but too late. Frostmourne slammed home. Dead-chill necrotic aura poured through the blade and into that eye—
—and it detonated with a thunderous crack.
Idris emerged unscathed inside his Holy Shield, though he could feel how hollow his reserves had gotten. He recalled his two battered clones—both were close to collapse—and let his Elemental power knit back together.
"It's the Grand Sage!"
"He's out! He did it!"
"I knew it—nothing can stop our Grand Sage!"
Cheers erupted across Sumeru. Bare-chested men whooped from rooftops. Dust-streaked girls wiped their eyes and stared at the young man with open adoration. Soldiers who'd slumped to the cobbles found new fire in their gaze. Even foreign guests exhaled in honest relief—and some, if they were honest, felt a twinge of envy at what this nation had.
On the sacred boughs, the three watching gods exchanged looks.
"Nahida," Zhongli said softly, "so long as Idris stands, you may gather no faith at all. His prestige already exceeds what a governing god would hold."
Nahida smiled. "That's fine. Trade all of Sumeru's faith for Idris? That's a bargain. He's more suited to rule this country than I am—more than any god in Teyvat."
"I agree," Venti said, the god who believed in human miracles most of all.
Back on the battlefield, Idris stood atop the Prime Machine God and studied Marana's carcass. Destroying the core had stilled it, but a body saturated with five centuries of Withering energy was still dangerous. Best to erase it.
He dropped lightly to the ground.
"Let's finish this. Ten-Thousandfold Forest—devour everything."
He drove Frostmourne into the earth. A boundless necrotic domain billowed out, swallowing Marana's bulk in chill, hungry shadow.
"Prime Machine God—Illuminate and Annihilate All Things!"
A colossal thunder sphere swelled within the mech's chest, a compact star of ruin. It drifted into the air and fell upon Marana's body. Necrotic forest and divine lightning converged in a white sun.
Many shielded their eyes. When the brilliance faded, only a crater remained—fifty meters across at least. No trace of Marana. The rainforest would heal the scar in time. The future, at last, looked like something Sumeru could hope for.
Idris wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. The Holy Shield had shrugged off external ruin, but not the internal backlash of channeling so much energy. Dragon-blood tempering—and two clones to help buffer the surge—had kept the worst contained. With luck, he'd find a use for that stored power later.
For now, the war was over. Behind him, an entire nation waited for his word.
He sheathed Frostmourne and walked back. Closest stood Sumeru's Vision holders—Cyno, Nilu, Dehya… and the Traveler. Even Ying's gaze was complicated, but full of respect.
He lifted his eyes to the topmost bough. Nahida stood there. Venti beside her. And—unexpectedly—Zhongli as well. Add Fontaine's Hydro Archon and the delegations from Liyue and Mondstadt… Sumeru had quite an audience today.
Under all those eyes, Idris let the Void Terminal carry his voice to every ear.
"Friends of Sumeru—my fellow citizens. Without the aid of any god, we have solved the sickness that has plagued us for five hundred years.
"I declare that in this battle against Marana—the embodiment of our nation's old rot—we have won, and we did it without divine rule.
"This does not mean we scorn the past kindness of the God of Wisdom. It means that today we have proven that even without a god, we can live—and live well.
"In this era, perhaps humans are better suited than gods to govern a nation.
"From this day forward, the honorific of Sumeru's God of Wisdom, the Little Lucky Grass King, will be changed to the Little Lucky Princess."
To read advanced Chapters, head over to p@treon:
patreon.com/nani_kaito