"Leonard taught you to be adaptable. Stanley taught you to keep living. Roald taught you to mend your flaws—and to know when to turn back. So," Victor Wang asked quietly, "what have you learned from them?"
Just knowing these hidden truths about three of the most renowned mortal adventurers was already a staggering blow to Zhiqiong's heart. And to make matters worse—every one of those truths contradicted her own convictions.
If all of this was true, then clearly, those great adventurers would never have made the same choices she had.
Zhiqiong hugged her knees and bowed her head. In that moment, it felt as though all the strength inside her body had been drawn away.
But so what? The path she had chosen could not be shaken by a few words from someone else. She would walk it alone if she must—she had simply lost one companion on the road, nothing more.
"…What you're saying," she murmured, "sounds like comfort on the surface. But in truth, you're still trying to persuade me to give up."
"I've only stated facts," said Victor Wang. "Whether you give up or not—that's your decision."
"Then stop following me."
"How do you know I'm following you? The road's right here. I'll walk wherever I please—just happens we're headed the same way."
"You're right… but still, I can't accept it."
Zhiqiong lifted her head. Her eyes met his—eyes of someone reeling from a heavy blow, clinging stubbornly to pride. Her lips were pressed tight, brows furrowed, and in those eyes was a sadness—the grief of losing the companion she'd imagined walking beside her.
But beneath that sadness, there was something stronger—defiance.
"I can't accept it," she said, her voice rising. "Why is it that you—people like you—can go wherever you want, while we mortals are bound by limits at every step? Why must we live our whole lives like frogs at the bottom of a well—able to see the vast sky above, yet unable to take even one step toward it?"
"I can't accept that the soldiers who fight monsters with nothing but raw strength, the miners who treat earthquakes as part of their daily lives, the sailors who wrestle with storms on the open sea—that their efforts are dismissed as meaningless!"
"I can't accept that the artists who devote their lives to perfection, the craftsmen who carve stone and wood to raise monuments, the farmers who pour their years into their fields—that their dreams are not brilliant enough to be seen!"
"I can't accept this! It's not about you, it's about something that's haunted me all my life—if human effort means nothing, if being forgotten is our natural state, then how can the gods draw such absurd lines between whose wishes matter and whose don't?"
Her voice trembled but grew firmer with every word.
"I can't accept it. So at the very least, I want to include The Chasm in the maps I draw and edit—to leave mortal names on the places I've stepped, to give names of our own to the changing landscapes beneath this abyss."
"Foolish as I am, this is the only way I can inspire those who'll come after me—to show them how far a person without a Vision can go…"
She laughed bitterly. "And then someone just had to come along and ruin that, didn't they? Now I can't even say this path was walked by a mortal alone. Hah…"
She shook her head, but now that she'd started, the flood of words would not stop.
"I don't know how you people see mortals—how you see people like me. Maybe you think it's hard to understand, or even laughable, that someone with no power keeps running toward danger…"
"Maybe for you, crossing the Mare Jivari that took Stanley's life would just take a bit of time and preparation."
"Maybe for you, it'd take only a flash of power to surpass the Pilos Peak that ended Leonard's journey."
"What's a deadly path to me might be an easy stroll for you. I can't wield Lumenstones, I can't soar up to those high caverns, I can't fight off treasure hoarders or monsters…"
"But this—this is all we can do."
"Leonard never did conquer his mountain. Stanley never did return from the Mare Jivari. And maybe I'll never walk out of The Chasm alive. I can see how it ends."
"But this is all we can do."
"The duty of an adventurer is to keep adventuring. Even without the gaze of the gods, through passing our will from one generation to the next, one day, we'll reach where you can go too."
Then, facing the vast darkness ahead, she shouted with all her breath:
"Watch us! Mortals are not insignificant! Watch us! Even without those so-called 'Visions,' we can do these things too!!"
Her voice echoed through the caverns—and for a moment, the world fell silent.
Aileen, Zheping, Zhiqiong… all of them—those who sought Visions, those who felt the unfairness of the world—they were the norm.
Holders of Visions were few—rare, exceedingly rare. Compared to mortals, they were like archons to Vision-bearers—the gap truly was heaven and earth. And since the granting of a Vision seemed to rely on luck, how could anyone accept that?
Who started that rumor, anyway…
Victor Wang sighed inwardly.
Among all the Vision holders he knew, many hadn't received theirs because of some "strong desire." Some of their stories were downright ridiculous.
The truth was—the way one gained a Vision likely had more to do with spiritual strength.
Visions were shards of the Dragon Sovereigns' authority, conduits for diluted elemental energy from the Light Realm. But human power came from the Ley Lines—and if souls entered the Ley Lines after death, with memories tied to their constellations and emotions embodied in artifacts and Visions, then the Ley Lines must reflect the spiritual self.
Since mortals can't wield Light Realm energy, then when it comes to granting Visions, what's measured must be the strength of one's human spirit. Strong desire just happens to appear where the spirit burns brightest.
And there were those who could attract a Vision without any wish at all—though who knew which part of their spirit the Vision resonated with. Losing it might barely affect them. Like Arataki Itto, for example.
So accusing the Seven Archons of "playing favorites" was unjust—they weren't the ones choosing at all. They could only decide whether to respond when a request reached them.
But that wasn't something easily explained aloud.
"…How to put it," Victor Wang said at last, "the truth is, the Seven Archons care for mortals far more than you think."
Venti, Zhongli, the Raiden Shogun, Nahida, Furina—their images flashed one by one through his mind.
"None of them despise mortal effort. For example…" he smiled faintly, "in Inazuma, I actually met the Raiden Shogun herself."
Zhiqiong gave a skeptical scoff. "You mean the same Raiden Shogun who not only stopped granting Visions, but confiscated the ones people already had? The one who betrayed her people's wishes more than anyone else?"
"…She only lost her way for a time," Victor Wang replied softly. "Now, she's back on the right path."