Exhaustion weighed heavily in Venti's eyes.
Exhaustion? How many years had it been since he last felt it? To unleash his power without restraint, driving every divine faculty within him at any cost…
The last time he had been this utterly drained, body and soul, was before he ever wore the crown.
Now, ten thousand years later, that memory returned within his body.
Even at the level of Super God, infinite power was impossible. His strength recovered swiftly, yet never fast enough to keep up with the rate at which he expended it.
To gods below the Almighty, their power seemed infinite. But it was not true infinity—it was only recovery so rapid that to mortals it seemed endless, like the fabled perpetual motion.
Above Almighty God, however, power truly became inexhaustible.
But inexhaustible did not mean without limit.
It was like a spring. Drain the pool dry, and though the source would continue to flow, filling it again would take a long, long time.
Venti knocked aside Zhongli's spear, then gathered every last drop of his strength into the Skyward Pride.
Hum—
The focus of a Super God's entire power was no less than self-detonation. The tidal wave of force displaced the Dimensional Gap itself, leaving behind an empty void where even dimensional energy was forced aside.
"Old man, this will be my last strike," Venti said wearily, gripping the Skyward Pride in both hands. The wounds across his body remained unhealed.
Wounds dealt by Pseudo Star Maps could not be mended in short order. Without intervention by another wielder of such a creation, recovery was almost impossible.
"If an ordinary Almighty God were wounded by a Pseudo Star Map, they might never heal without help. That's the price."
He smiled faintly. "This move, I borrowed from my little brother Odin. It carries the certainty of a strike that cannot miss."
In Zhongli's hands, the Vortex Vanquisher also flared, channeling all of his might.
Hum—
The overwhelming force carved out another hollow void in the Dimensional Gap.
"Certain to hit, is it? Odin's Pseudo Star Map, Asgard, embodies a cosmology where every strike lands true. Given your bond with him, it's no surprise he let you glimpse his cosmology."
"I sensed it long ago—that aura of another cosmology lingering around you. You've grasped at least a fragment of another cosmology ."
"So this is your trump card?"
Even Zhongli could not be sure he could withstand it. Though it was but a fragment, touched by the power of another Pseudo Star Map, it carried the force of a negative cosmology.
"How about it? Surprised?" Venti drew a deep breath, his smile as roguish as ever.
Zhongli's gaze was grave. "Indeed, I am."
But Barbatos, if this is all—then even should you wound me, you will still fall.
I have not yet revealed my true trump card. You, however, are already forced to play yours.
One only reveals their last hand when their strength is nearly spent.
"Then take it, old man… If this strike cannot bring you down, I will admit defeat."
"Hard as it is to accept… I've given everything I have."
With his words, dazzling light erupted along the Skyward Pride. In the next instant, the full might of a Super God condensed into a single point.
It was not Venti who charged toward Zhongli—it was as though Zhongli himself was drawn to the blade.
Zhongli's divine soul trembled, his face tightening. His body, his soul, his will—each was locked upon by this unavoidable strike.
This certainty to hit was no mere concept, no mere law. It was something beyond laws, equal in rank to Principle.
The force carried the threat of death. Not certain annihilation, but certain grievous harm if struck.
In response, Zhongli's spear burst forth with the profound essence of his Pseudo Star Map.
[Celestial Equator]
And beyond it, he drew upon another force—the cosmology of the world of the dead, merging into one.
"Barbatos, don't forget—my Liyue Divine Collective holds two cosmologies. And my bond with Hu Tao is far deeper than yours with Odin. From the very start, our Pseudo Star Maps have complemented one another, reinforcing each other's might."
Zhongli's Vortex Vanquisher pierced first, driving through Venti's chest. Yet at the same moment, Venti poured everything into thrusting the Skyward Pride into Zhongli's chest as well.
Zhongli's golden pupils contracted, disbelief flashing in his eyes.
Venti raised his head, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. He coughed up a mouthful of golden blood, his hands clutching the hilt as he pushed the Skyward Pride deeper, until the blade was buried fully within.
Meanwhile, the shaft of the Vortex Vanquisher pressed even further into his pierced chest.
"Heh… old man, you didn't expect me to go this far, did you? This time, you've lost."
As he spoke, Venti's teal eyes turned to gold. Clock markings appeared within his pupils, the hands spinning at impossible speed.
"This is… the Principle of Time?"
Zhongli realized it too late.
[The wind brings seeds of stories, and time makes them sprout]
Dong! Dong! Dong—
Bells tolled as golden threads filled the arena.
The threads outlined an enormous clock face, with Zhongli and Venti locked at its center.
The hands of the clock turned in perfect rhythm with those within Venti's eyes.
[Secret of Time: The Second Hand's Halt]
Hum~
The aura of Principle engulfed the arena. In that instant, time itself ceased.
Of course, ceased was not absolute. Zhongli's resistance slowed the effect, turning total stoppage into sluggish drag.
But even so, his movements slowed to a crawl, like a snail.
[Secret of Time: The Hour Hand's Reversal]
Venti's wounds began knitting closed at astounding speed. Even the chest wound carved by the Vortex Vanquisher mended, though not perfectly.
[Secret of Time: The Minute Hand's Disorder]
Venti poured out every drop of his origin of time, exhausting himself utterly, before finally pulling free the Skyward Pride.
"Old man, heh… didn't expect this, did you? This is my true trump card."
"I know how strong you are. I know you, too, hold a trump card. But from the very start, you thought yourself stronger than me. You never underestimated me, but still—you made this mistake."
"All through our battle, I pushed you to divide your focus, while I laid the threads of time in secret."
"Deep down, you never believed I could wield power linked to something greater."
"If you had guarded against it, no matter how I struggled, my chance of victory would have been slim."
Venti pressed his hands together lightly.
"After this, no grudges allowed, alright? Now… the finishing blow."
[Time is the final trial of all things]
Dong, dong, dong—
The tolling quickened. The hands of the golden clock spun madly, whirling into frenzy…
Crack, crack, crack—
Sound? No—it was not sound, but the phenomenon of time's clockface made manifest. The hands spun wildly, disrupting concepts imbued with the aura of Principle. The consequence of such disruption was the shattering of concepts themselves.
Time and space were the two most vital elements of existence, the pillars that constructed a universe.
Zhongli felt all of his power wavering, slipping from his control. The foundation of his existence trembled, leaving him powerless to resist.
He did not feel true fear. This state shook his existence, yes, but it was not enough to bring him death.
Yet the paralysis it induced left him unable to move, as if for a moment he had been dragged back ten thousand years, to his most worn and fragile state.
"The Principle of Time… Lady Istaroth's gift. To think that what once seemed but a small blessing would become your greatest trump card."
"I truly did not expect this. I have lost, and I yield."
A trace of the aura of Principle within time's origin was not enough to subdue him. That, he could have countered directly.
But a clockface of such immense scale, woven entirely from time's threads, could bind him like the great formation arrays of Liyue.
So Barbatos had been weaving it from the very start—and he had never noticed.
...
Dong—
With the tolling bell, the Gift Game ended. The power of Human Principle descended, erasing every trace of change within the arena.
In a flash of white light, all was restored to its original state. Not even a blade of grass had been harmed.
Zhongli and Venti stood battered but upright, bathed in the dawn's glow.
Seeing the white light sweep past, Venti let out a heartfelt sigh.
"This is the true might of the Principle of Time. In an instant, restoring the divine realms of more than a dozen great universes to how they were before battle."
"Even I can only rewind time within a single great universe."
"The river of time… vast, boundless, its end forever unseen."
Zhongli folded his hands behind his back. His wounds had already been healed by the passing of time's Principle.
"The river of time…"
He could glimpse its source, the Temple of Time, but he could never reach it. Not even step into its current.
To enter the river of time was to endure the crushing weight of the entire Principle of Time.
This was not the tributary streams of time within a great universe.
To step into the true river meant being able to return to Teyvat's past—even to the dawn of its first continent.
But the paradoxes borne from such an act would be unbearable. The fates of countless ascended gods would shift, and annexed worlds would change. The cause-and-effect was unfathomable.
Even if he managed only a few hundred years within, before he could look back, he would be crushed into dust by infinite contradiction.
And this without the Ruler of Time lifting a hand.
"Such terrifying power…" Zhongli murmured, a trace of envy in his voice.
The weight of one's foundations grew ever clearer the further one advanced.
To be born with it was to always have it. To lack it from the start meant it would likely never come.
Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, once the incarnation of the world tree that sustained Teyvat's ley lines—such a unique origin naturally brought her to embody Truth itself.
Barbatos, too, bore ties with the Ruler of Time. The gift he once received had now become a weapon to restrain gods of equal rank.
He, Rex Lapis, stood balanced. His foundations were deep, yes—but not in any way singular. None could easily restrain him, but he himself held no weapon capable of overwhelming others.
Venti grinned roguishly. "Heh, honestly, if you hadn't overlooked this one point, old man, I'd never have beaten you."
Zhongli shook his head. "A loss is a loss. That is fact."
If this had been a battle to the death, he would already have been grievously wounded. Not slain, but scarred.
For leaders of divine collectives, even in life-or-death struggle, killing one another outright was near impossible.
At that moment, a lively voice rang out…
"Hahaha! What a terrifying battle, Lord Zhongli, Lord Venti!"
"Watching from outside, even I was trembling."
"I had wagered on Lord Zhongli's victory… but in the end, it was Lord Venti who triumphed."
Tet clapped her hands, then raised both arms high in celebration.
"As the chief referee of this Gift Game, I now declare—the victor of the first round of the Solar Sovereignty War is: the highest leader of Mondstadt's divine collective! Lord of Hope and Freedom—Barbatos!"
With Tet's proclamation, the concept of the game resonated with Pan-Human History.
Immediately, the Sagittarius of Solar Sovereignty, long awaiting the dawn's light, descended before Venti under the blessing of Pan-Human History.
From the Solar Sovereignty radiated the intertwined forces of Pan-Human History and Human Principle.
Just feeling this aura, whether Zhongli, Venti, Tet, or any of the gods witnessing the Solar Sovereignty War—they all felt as though crushed beneath the weight of endless civilizations, endless worlds.
It was like a tiny ant daring to raise its head to the eternal sun in the sky. A single ray of its brilliance could wipe them away entirely.
Gulp…
Venti slowly extended his hand. The card formed by the Solar Sovereignty floated down into his palm.
In that instant, through the Solar Sovereignty, Venti glimpsed a corner of the boundless expanse of Pan-Human History. Innumerable civilizations unfolded before his eyes.
The power of Pan-Human History descended instantly, resonating with the legacy of Sagittarius.
Whoosh—
The might of Pan-Human History erupted within his body, and Venti's aura surged at an unimaginable rate.
Tenfold universes.
Fiftyfold universes.
A hundredfold universes.
Five hundredfold universes.
A thousandfold universes.
Two thousandfold universes.
At last, it halted at two thousand three hundredfold universes.
Behind Venti, the Solar Sovereignty manifested as a blazing corona. In his hands appeared a divine bow of golden radiance—the inheritance of Sagittarius.
The corona was the Solar Sovereignty, and the golden bow was the Sagittarius inheritance.
The Solar Sovereignty alone held the power of two thousandfold universes, while the Sagittarius inheritance added another three hundredfold.
Together, their mass totaled two thousand three hundredfold universes—already at the level of high-tier strong-universe.
To know: ten thousandfold universes marked the threshold of transcendent-universe.
A complete Solar Sovereignty wielded mid-tier transcendent-universe strength, infused with a fragment of Super-Primeval God's power.
Quantified, it equaled nearly one-ninth of Teyvat's present mass.
Even divided into twenty-four parts, with twenty-four star sign legacies besides, each fragment was immense beyond measure.
Yet this was still external power. To wield the Solar Sovereignty did not mean it belonged entirely to one god.
Most important of all, the Solar Sovereignty's strength grew with the strength of Pan-Human History itself.
Once Teyvat ascended to true multiverse, each fragment of Solar Sovereignty would reach transcendent-universe might.
"So strong… it's absurdly strong! I feel as though I can do anything!" Venti's face was filled with awe and disbelief.
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