The left hand gripping the Cursed Blade burned with searing pain. Scarlet blood streamed down Victor Wang's forearm, dripping crisply onto the stone tiles of the Grand Narukami Shrine. The ache began spreading along the inside of his elbow.
"In an illusion, you think you can bully me? Haa—ahhh!!"
Victor Wang roared, locking the blade in place. Using the left half of his body as a pivot and his left leg as a pillar, he twisted with all his might, his right foot stomping down for leverage. His right fist smashed into the Chief Instructor's wrist. Crack!Snap! One bone in the wrist fractured, another finger bone shattered.
At last, the Chief Instructor was wrenched apart from the Cursed Blade. His tall frame collapsed heavily onto the ground.
"Big brother?"
Without a host, the Cursed Blade was just a sword.
In theory, this wasn't possible—every living thing that touched it should have been controlled. Yet, it happened.
The Demonic Ring was momentarily confused. That terrifying technique, time stop… why did it feel like time hadn't even stopped? Why hadn't the opponent been struck down?
And now, what was going on? Was that boy under control—or wasn't he?
"Big brother!" the Demonic Ring called again.
The North Wing members all knew of the Cursed Blade's abilities. But after lying dormant for two hundred years, it was hard to judge if Victor Wang's behavior was normal—or an anomaly.
The atmosphere grew tense and uncertain.
Victor Wang moved again. He unhooked the Dragon Tooth Sword Armor from his waist. Twisting his right hand into an awkward position, he forced the Cursed Blade's tip into the sword armor. At once, the stone armor cladding his left arm dispersed into fragments. The Cursed Blade was wedged into the sword armor; Victor Wang locked his left hand on its hilt and his right on the armor, trapping it firmly.
["No, stop!"] Little Wen cried. ["My cozy little home is going to get ruined!"]
The Cursed Blade sensed danger first, appearing silently behind Victor Wang. Its one arm lifted high, whip raised, lashing toward the back of his neck.
"Duck!"
At Kaedehara Kazuha's warning, Victor Wang rolled forward.
The strike missed. The three-meter whip, with no master to guide it, moved on its own, shattering a bloodstained tile with a crack. As it reared to strike again, Kamisato Ayato's watery phantoms—sword-drawing afterimages—flanked Victor Wang, cutting off the threat.
"I've never tried dying in an illusion before. Is everything here really this real?"
Victor Wang clutched the Cursed Blade and looked skyward. The illusionary dome above him did not break.
"Sigh… I know perfectly well this is an illusion. Nothing can trick me! Wake up!"
"Hehe, such an amusing little fellow…" Even weakened, Yae Miko managed a mocking laugh.
"How? Don't tell me…"
Could it be that [The Two Ends of Beginning and End] didn't just resist time stop—it also blocked the Cursed Blade's illusions?
It was that pitch-black hourglass. From the second time stopped, he had noticed it—though it had been in a five-minute cooldown, suddenly it stirred to life.
He never imagined it could resist illusions too. Which meant… everything he had said and done was visible to everyone?
Beidou mused seriously, "Though it seemed like countless strange things happened in an instant, I don't think this is an illusion."
"Eh…"
"What are you all chattering about? Think you can ignore me?!"
The Demonic Ring lashed its whip wildly, declaring its presence. The three-meter braided metallic whip unraveled into countless fine threads, as thin as hair, scattering outward with a flick.
Having suffered once, Victor Wang shrank his shield close, protecting Yae Miko and Beidou, leaving no gaps for the threads to slip through. And now he realized why the shield consumed so much energy—Yae Miko's fox form was simply too large!
"As one with wind and cloud!"
"Cascade!"
Kazuha unleashed another burst, drawing a mass of threads with anemo winds, while Ayato conjured a wall of sword phantoms to shield the others.
Behind Ayato, now certain this wasn't an illusion, Victor Wang called Little Wen forth.
The Cursed Blade's weakness lay in that swirling vortex on its hilt—once, at the edge of life and death, he had shattered it. He was sure. If he destroyed it again, this grudge would end.
The Cursed Blade trembled violently within the scabbard, trying to flee, cursing its own arrogance. It should have rushed for the Sacred Sakura tree instead of wasting time.
Why hadn't it?
If it had touched the tree, it could have extended time stop until it drained all its power!
Why hadn't it?!
Who could have guessed this brat could resist time stop?
Too careless.
But there was still another chance. He who laughs last, wins.
Victor Wang pinned the sword armor down with one foot, pressing on the Cursed Blade's hilt with his left hand, sword in his right. He aimed at the distorted clocklike vortex carved into the hilt and drove his blade in.
The vortex spun wildly counterclockwise, exuding a sinister aura—and something intangible that Victor Wang faintly felt.
Sensing the familiar aura, the Demonic Ring sighed in relief.
Time reversal.
Even greater than time stop. With this, they would be invincible, win or lose aside. The Cursed Blade lacked the authority, but by channeling power from outside Teyvat, it could still trigger it—though it risked attracting the attention of beings too fearsome to provoke.
If they still lived.
But the rewind never came. Instead, Victor Wang's strikes grew fiercer, and unnoticed, the Sacred Sakura's leaves quivered as if nourished.
Crack!
Something broke.
The tree… something's wrong… it's parsing… my authority in reverse…
The power meant to rewind time was absorbed entirely by the Sacred Sakura.
The Cursed Blade perished, unwilling, unyielding.
"What did you do?!"
Their third brother had vanished long ago, prone to memory loss after transformations. But their eldest… slain before their very eyes?!
The Demonic Ring bellowed in fury, dragging Victor Wang suddenly outside the shrine, to the edge of Mt. Yougou. Before Kazuha and Ayato could give chase, they vanished again, suspended midair.
The shield—!
The barrier protecting Yae Miko and Beidou shattered. Victor Wang clutched his head in agony. He cursed himself for using a lingering shield technique against the Demonic Ring, but it had been necessary earlier… Now his head felt like it would split apart. His elemental energy slipped away as his body plummeted.
The Demonic Ring didn't relent, teleporting again to Victor Wang's front.
Stay calm!
Each teleport stayed within a limited range—its distance was restricted.
Every time it teleported with him, their positions never shifted relative to one another. Did this mean it couldn't change another's position without moving itself? That its teleport always required carrying itself along?
No, what use was such reasoning now?
Pray to die from the fall rather than its control? Even if he could fly, the Demonic Ring would hunt him down. Better to accelerate with rocks and smash himself to death…
But he couldn't conjure any stones.
Splurt!
A spray of blood burst from his lips. Still falling, his body was yanked back as the Demonic Ring hammered a fist into his heart.
Why is Mt. Yougou so tall? Fall faster, damn it…
"Savor this pain well!"
The Demonic Ring strained, jaw clenched, as it pulled its ring form—the true body—from its current host's hand, trying to force it onto Victor Wang's finger. To the unknowing eye, it looked like an exchange of vows.
"From now on, you'll be my slave—forever!!!"
"Let him go!"
A sharp cry rang out from halfway up the mountain. An ice wall cut the motion short. At last, Victor Wang's endless fall ended—he collapsed into someone's arms.
A familiar voice reached his ears, and the scent of camellias filled his nose. The embrace was warm beyond words.
"Brother Victor, are you alright?"
"Thoma?"
Victor Wang opened his eyes. Beside him stood Kamisato Ayaka. Holding him was Thoma, blazing with pyro, no wonder he felt so warm.
"How did you fall from the mountain? My lady is still up there—was that tall figure your enemy?"
"Yes… it's dangerous. Be careful, cough, cough—"
"We understand. Don't speak. Rest now!"
The Demonic Ring seethed, its nose twitching with rage, eyes burning with bestial hate at Victor Wang. Yet it made no move.
Strange. Why wasn't it teleporting him away again?
Was it cooling down from three consecutive teleports? Or something else?
As Victor Wang pondered, Kazuha descended with the wind. Together, they confronted the Demonic Ring from afar.
"Hmph!"
Snatching up the Cursed Blade's broken form, the Demonic Ring gave a disdainful snort before vanishing. Even after waiting at the shrine, it never returned. Only then did Victor Wang finally lower his guard.