Lumine and Paimon went to the Scripture Pavilion in search of cultivation methods—though truth be told, they were just picking at random.
These two were sharp.
With the Sword-Controlling Art and the simplified Divine Sword Lightning True Formula, Lumine hardly needed to worry about her offensive power anymore.
What she lacked was a defensive, or perhaps a utility-type technique.
If none of those were available, then something related to speed, curses, or support would also do.
As for Paimon, it was even simpler.
She already had the True Explanation of the Foundational Mantras. Even though it was called "basic," the spell techniques it contained were countless. Strictly speaking, many of those spells would still remain useful well into the Nascent Soul stage.
Her coming here was simply to see if something else caught her fancy. If she found something, good. If not, no loss.
After the two entered, they didn't rush about flipping through scrolls. Instead, they strolled leisurely as if on a sightseeing tour, occasionally marveling aloud at the grandeur and mystery of the Scripture Pavilion.
They didn't go looking for Jean and the others either.
Jean's group had also split up, each searching on their own according to Lisa's introductions, seeking their own fated techniques.
Mount Shu fell quiet once more.
Liyue Harbor.
Northland Bank.
Tartaglia was half-lying in his office, basking in the sunlight while reading a novel, his body still wrapped in bandages.
Despite his injuries, his spirit looked much better.
That was thanks to the rich spiritual energy of recent days—Liyue's medicinal herbs had grown far more potent under its influence. Prices had gone up, but so had the effects.
It had only been a few days since registration for cultivation had opened, yet Tartaglia's injuries were already eighty percent healed. Only some scars from external wounds remained.
Leaning lazily on the sofa, he read a Liyue cultivation novel with serious concentration.
Ever since cultivation was confirmed real, this novel—published by the General Affairs Bureau—had exploded in popularity.
The sect in the story was even called "Mount Shu," and its depictions of immortal cultivation were vivid and lifelike.
Many in Liyue believed the Bureau had deliberately released it to give the people a channel for understanding cultivation in advance.
Sales naturally soared.
It soon became nearly impossible to find a copy.
The strange, fantastical world and the lifelike powers of cultivators had left Tartaglia utterly enthralled.
Especially the great battles with demon beasts and the scheming rivalries of the cultivation world—these made him itch with the urge to cultivate immediately and taste such battles for himself.
In his heart, since the General Affairs Bureau could write of these things, it must mean that such spirit beasts and fiends truly existed. The Bureau wouldn't release something baseless.
Besides, over these past days he had indeed heard of many animals becoming stronger and more extraordinary—likely the effects of spiritual energy.
This book, Tartaglia had already read seven or eight times, never tiring of it.
He was obsessed with everything about cultivators—their vast power, their struggle against Heaven and Earth, their contention with all beings.
To him, a lifetime of constant battle and resistance was the most desirable life imaginable.
Even if he died on the path of cultivation, Tartaglia felt it would be worth it.
He had had enough of the joyless Teyvat.
He wanted to cultivate. He wanted to hurl himself into endless battles.
To destroy and be reborn.
At this point, Tartaglia could be considered half-converted to the path of cultivation.
Unknowingly, he had flipped to the last page again—the protagonist breaking through the Union of Void and Dao, preparing to ascend.
Tartaglia felt a pang of emptiness.
Every time it ended here, it annoyed him to no end.
He wanted to see how immortals in the Immortal Realm fought—to have a concrete goal to strive toward.
He even considered funding the General Affairs Bureau through the Northland Bank to hurry them into writing a sequel.
Just then, hurried footsteps and quarrels echoed in the hallway.
"Lady, please wait! The Young Master truly has important matters to attend to!"
"Lady, please don't make things difficult. The Young Master is recuperating and still has official duties!"
"Lady—!"
The voices drew nearer, until the doors were kicked open.
Rosalyne strode in cold-faced, eyes immediately locking onto Tartaglia sunbathing with his novel.
She turned back, glaring at the debt collector.
"This is the 'important business' you spoke of?"
"Forgive me, Lady! I…"
The collector paled, bowing his head.
"How imposing of you, Rosalyne. You just arrived and already bullying my men? Am I dead or something?"
Tartaglia gave her a half-smile, waved at the collector.
"You may leave."
"Yes, Young Master!"
The man fled as though pardoned, wiping cold sweat from his brow.
Rosalyne looked Tartaglia over, then sat herself down in the office chair.
"So this is your 'serious business'? Reading novels? Sunbathing?"
"I'm injured. Isn't recuperating normal?"
Tartaglia replied carelessly, eyes still on his book.
"Besides, if you weren't blind and deaf on your way here, you'd know what's happening in Liyue now—and that what I'm doing is very much serious business."
"What do you mean?"
Rosalyne frowned. She had rushed back to Snezhnaya to deliver her cargo and report to the Tsaritsa, then immediately sped to Liyue without pause.
On arrival she heard Tartaglia had been gravely wounded battling some unknown existence.
Lisa's words echoed in her mind, and she instantly suspected Tartaglia had crossed paths with cultivators.
The thought made her furious with worry—if he had provoked such entities, what calamity might befall Snezhnaya?
Suppressing her anger, she prepared to scold him. But Tartaglia casually tossed her a copy of the novel, then sank back into his own reading.
Her blood boiled.
"You have time to waste?" she asked coldly.
"Busier than you, actually."
Tartaglia drawled, briefly looking up.
"I've been here longer. I know better what's happening. I even fought those beings myself.
All intelligence has already been sent to Her Majesty.
Even gravely wounded, I've established ties with cultivators.
Rosalyne, you have no right to come here lording over me.
Your scraps of information are nothing—I know the dangers of Liyue better than you."
With that, his eyes returned to the novel.
"If you want to know about cultivation, just read this book. Everything you seek is within.
Of course, if you think I'm mocking you…" He gestured lazily toward the door. "It's right there. Please, see yourself out."
Rosalyne glared at him for a long while, then, with a cold snort, opened the book.
Tartaglia smirked inwardly.
This novel… she'd be hooked soon enough.
Once she got absorbed, she'd probably come begging.
Smug, he flipped back to the first page and started anew.
The two sat in silence, reading from noon until nightfall.
Only when a doctor arrived to change Tartaglia's dressings did they lift their heads.
Rosalyne massaged her brow, carefully setting aside the half-read book.
Sword flight. Spiritual sense suppressing enemies.
Others might struggle to imagine such things—but she had personally witnessed Lisa use them.
She believed seven-tenths of the book already.
And those seven-tenths alone were enough to drive all Teyvat mad.
The path to eternal life, to lifespan equal with Heaven…
Compared to that, Archons? The Heavenly Principles? What were they worth?
Rosalyne glanced at Tartaglia's injuries as the physician worked—deep scars still marred his heart, throat, lungs. Wounds no one should have survived.
Clearly he had been saved only by the Tsaritsa's power and his mysterious teacher's intervention.
She frowned, but held her tongue until the doctor left.
Tartaglia stretched a little.
"As expected of herbs nurtured by spiritual energy—pricey, but worth it."
"A pity Liyue doesn't allow bulk sales. Otherwise, I'd stock up for future battles."
He cast her a sideways glance.
"Well? Did the book disappoint you?"
She almost retorted with mockery, but remembering Lisa's words, she swallowed it.
"Do you have another copy? Send one to Her Majesty."
"You're a step too late."
He chuckled.
"By the time you thought of it, the news was already everywhere. I've long since sent copies back. By now, Her Majesty should be reading it herself."
Her gaze turned sharp.
"You think you're the only one working? I just returned Barbatos' Gnosis to Snezhnaya! And you? You've been in Liyue all this time—have you even contacted the people Her Majesty wanted? Do you have any plan to seize the Geo Archon's Gnosis?"
Tartaglia sneered.
"Gnosis? What kind of worthless trinket is that?
Sorry—I'm not interested. If you want, you can take over my job."
"You dare defy Her Majesty's will?" Rosalyne snapped.
"Her Majesty has already ordered me to abandon the Gnosis plan. All priority is to be given to what I'm about to do. Everyone is to cooperate with me!"
Tartaglia handed her a letter, infused with the Tsaritsa's icy divine power.
The words atop made her fall silent:
"All Fatui, grant the Harbinger Childe every convenience."
After a long pause, she glared.
"What did you feed Her Majesty to make her trust you so?"
Tartaglia only snorted, turning toward the window.
Beyond the myriad lights of Liyue Harbor, his gaze pierced toward the towering Jueyun Karst.
"Like I said, Rosalyne—you understand nothing. You have no right to lecture me.
Gnosis? What garbage.
Even Rex Lapis has joined Mount Shu as a disciple. What is a Gnosis compared to that?
Cultivation! Only cultivation matters!
Only cultivation can fulfill every grand wish!"
A fervent light burned in his eyes.
"One month from now, I will officially step through Mount Shu's gates—onto the path of cultivation!
Rosalyne, keep chasing your pathetic Gnoses if you wish. As for me—"
His voice rose with fanatic resolve.
"—I will cultivate immortality!"
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