Victor Wang woke up early out of habit, then suddenly remembered—he no longer had to report to the Knights of Favonius' training grounds.
He lay in bed, reflecting on himself.
Having seen countless cultivation systems in novels and level-based structures in games, Victor Wang had, upon first arriving in Teyvat, gotten a little arrogant after receiving Anemo power. There were no visible level indicators or clearly defined stages here—but fortunately, the chief instructor had smacked that arrogance right out of him, giving him a much-needed reality check on Teyvat's combat hierarchy.
Martial arts did exist on Teyvat—that was a given.
Throughout history, people had always pursued physical strength. Even primitive humans practiced survival techniques that could be called a kind of martial art—just never systematically summarized.
But Teyvat's martial arts were different.
Take something as simple as an elemental barrier—without elemental power, unarmed individuals couldn't even break through it. It became a matter of whether their stamina would run out first or the opponent's elemental reserves. And elemental energy could regenerate.
That's where weapons came in.
Weapons seemed to say: If you can't use elemental power, let me handle it. Wield me well, and you'll be able to break through these basic defenses.
Thus, to close the gap with Vision holders, ordinary people turned to weapons. Their martial discipline became inseparable from their blades—and so, their path was also divided into Form, Intent, and Mastery.
Since Victor Wang wielded a sword, the ranks became Sword Form, Sword Intent, and Sword Mastery.
He had once asked the chief instructor privately about the differences between these realms.
The instructor answered:
"Sword Form, simply put, means the sword has taken form. Find any sword style—once you've practiced it well, you're at the entry of Sword Form.
"Sword Intent means the sword holds intent. It's the unity of man and sword. Some reach this through time and training, others through sudden insight. At this stage, you'll definitely be able to use Sword Aura.
"Sword Mastery means the sword has gained spirit. Only when you've reached a transcendental understanding of swordsmanship can you be considered to have entered this stage. It's said a Sword Master can change the shape of Sword Aura at will—and even without elemental power, can rival Vision holders by Sword Aura alone.
"But in the past century, Mondstadt has seen no pure Sword Master without the help of a Vision. In the end, we can only cite one name: The Lion of Light, Arundolyn. His level was undoubtedly that of a Sword Master."
Victor Wang understood about half of it—it all felt like a wuxia world with superpowers.
What was clear to him was this: to reach such realms, one's movement, footwork, reflexes, judgment, defensive skills, and ability to exploit weaknesses must be top-notch.
He'd been misled by the author of "Into the Realm of Elemental Power", especially the part about classifying elemental control into tiers. He'd become obsessed with elemental manipulation and skill development—almost falling into the trap of becoming a "glass cannon mage." He now seriously suspected the author had been a mage himself.
Real combat doesn't rely solely on elemental control.
Without elemental shields, even Vision holders, who merely had slightly enhanced physical traits, could die from a sword wound. That's why martial artists still had a fighting chance in close combat against them.
When someone lunges at you with a sword—whether it's elemental-infused or Sword Aura—do you dodge?
If you can't, you die.
So ultimately, it's all about practical combat experience… and the chief instructor was clearly maxed out.
Experience. But there were no experience books in this world—only painstaking practice.
Victor Wang's earlier power ranking list looked something like this:
The Thrones—First and Second, no clear ranking. Celestia and the Four Primordial Shadows—created by the First Throne, and Celestia could suppress the Seven. The Seven Archons and the Seven Dragon Kings. Oddly, Celestia distributed the seven Gnosis after defeating the Dragon Kings. Was there a reason the positions had to be filled? The Archons themselves were the strongest among the gods—but were they chosen by power or luck? The Archons' retainers and the Fatui Harbingers. Since the Harbingers used the Tsaritsa's power, they were functionally her retainers. Adepti and high-tier Vision holders. Like Jean or Ganyu? Though they'd never fought, Adepti likely had more mystical tricks. Ordinary Vision holders—bottom tier, nothing more to say.
Sure, within each tier there were differences, but as a broad hierarchy, this was it. Victor Wang didn't want to bother with "Adeptus Level 1 through 9," etc.
If he posted that list online, unless those ranked could actually duel, everyone would argue about it. Not that it mattered anymore—there was no internet.
Victor Wang smiled wryly.
Now, if he had to redo that list, it would still mostly look the same—but with a major addition.
Specifically, the role of martial prowess and Sword Aura among ordinary people had to be taken more seriously.
With the ability to use Sword Aura, a Sword Form user could match a weak Vision holder. Sword Intent users surpassed average ones. And Sword Masters were on par with strong Vision holders—or even stronger.
Victor Wang felt a headache coming on.
The new power ranking probably looked like this:
The Thrones. Celestia, Primordial Shadows. Seven Archons, Seven Dragon Kings. Other Archons. Archon retainers, Fatui Harbingers. Adepti, top-tier Vision holders. High-tier Vision holders, Sword Masters. Mid-tier Vision holders, Sword Intent. Entry-level Vision holders, Sword Form.
The changes might seem limited to the lower tiers, but anything beyond the Adepti level was no longer attainable through human means alone. So, the impact was huge.
Victor Wang now clearly recognized his place—rock bottom, Tier 9.
There were also wildcards like "Gold" Rhinedottir and Alice—too hard to categorize.
Rhinedottir had created dark beasts that plagued all seven nations, crafted the Shadow Dragon Durin, and the "Chalk Prince" Albedo. Even unintentionally, she could produce Golden Wolflords.
Based on her creations alone, she might be comparable to an Archon retainer. But was she stronger than them? Or was she like a fragile summoner?
Victor Wang leaned toward the former.
He sighed. Off-topic again. Rhinedottir's strength wasn't the point—it was alchemy.
Teyvat wasn't just about martial arts and elemental power. Alchemy, while not offering direct combat upgrades, was an incredible support tool.
Back at the training ground, he'd already wanted to learn how to make healing potions. After all, he fought solo—he couldn't just summon Qiqi, Barbara, Kokomi, or Bennett to heal him.
He counted on his fingers: "Train mental control. Increase mental capacity. Practice swordsmanship. Add alchemy. Perfect—my whole day is booked."
His life of semi-retirement at age 18 was officially over—but to get stronger, Victor Wang was willing to give it up.
Now that he understood how weak he really was, how could he live in peace, ignoring the voice whispering in the void: 'At your age, at this level—you can sleep soundly?!'
"Then up we go. Time to train!"
Victor Wang sprang up in a sit-up motion and sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed, letting his consciousness spread out.
Thirty thin strands of wind danced around the room.
He strained to maintain each strand's individual trajectory while attempting to create a thirty-first.
Multitasking wasn't unusual in daily life—eating while talking, coding while listening to music, driving with one foot on the clutch and hands on the wheel while scanning the road.
Eyes, ears, mouth, nose, limbs—everyone could multitask in a physical sense. But consciousness always had a primary focus.
Victor Wang's current task was different: purely mental. No help from his body.
He kept trying to split off a new conscious thread—but the more he focused on that, the more the others faltered.
All thirty winds froze and vanished.
"Ugh…"
He conjured all thirty again, then split his mind thirty-one ways.
Outside the main thread, each strand could only sustain a single wind current's path—like building a mouth that only chewed, or a nose that only breathed. The advantage was that they required no special attention, and the main consciousness could still operate independently.
But if he tried to make them perform more complex tasks? That was impossible for now.
Still, it was exhausting. Back during training, he could only practice this at night, squeezing it into his already full schedule. At least now, time was no longer a constraint.
He pushed his mind harder, relentlessly pursuing that split.
An hour later, he finally succeeded.