At six in the morning, the sky was just beginning to lighten.
On the slope, a campfire burned. When Ying and Paimon arrived, Kaeya smirked and teased,
"Well, well, the big streamer's here."
"What big streamer?" Ying shook her head.
Seeing Ying a little embarrassed by the joke, Tartaglia laughed.
"I didn't expect the Ying who's so bold in her streams to be this… shy in real life?"
"Ahem!"
Ying coughed lightly and replied, "Streaming is all about personas. It's just a way to attract viewers."
"I see," Tartaglia nodded with sudden understanding.
"So, what's the situation now?" Ying glanced around, noticing food wrappers on the ground. "It looks more like you're on vacation here."
"No choice," Tartaglia shrugged helplessly. "I'm waiting for the birth of the God of Pure Machinery, and Diluc is waiting for news about Dottore. Neither has happened yet, so… we just wait."
"Once he shows up, he's done for, right?" Ying joked.
"Imagine if Scaramouche is watching my stream. Maybe he'll decide not to appear at all."
Tartaglia went quiet, thinking it over.
"Impossible," Kaeya shook his head. "If Scaramouche is watching, then he'd already know Dottore orchestrated everything that happened to him. His hatred for Dottore wouldn't be any less than ours! And you all know Dottore's power. He's no ordinary scholar—being able to create slices of himself from different times is no simple feat."
Tartaglia had once said that the Harbingers were ranked by strength. If that was true, Dottore's power couldn't be underestimated.
"With Scaramouche's strength, killing Dottore… is nearly impossible. His only chance is to ascend as a god."
"Even then," Diluc shook his head, "knowing Dottore, he wouldn't create something that could threaten him."
"True," Tartaglia admitted. "Well, daylight's coming. Let's make breakfast."
"Great, I'll help!" Paimon's eyes sparkled.
The mood there was relaxed.
But inside the Jade Factory, the atmosphere was suffocating.
By the original schedule, Scaramouche still had two hours before his ascension. After searching all night and failing to find Dottore, his impatience only grew.
"I'll give you one last hour!" His furious roar echoed through the cavernous workshop.
Everyone worked frantically under the weight of his killing intent.
"No mistakes! If anyone slips up—you'll pay with your lives!"
Ten minutes later, a scholar hurried forward and bowed.
"Lord Scaramouche, you may now enter the vessel. The next step is to load the canned knowledge."
Barely containing his excitement, Scaramouche sneered.
"As long as it's not those ridiculous godly canned knowledges."
The scholar trembled and quickly replied, "Rest assured, my lord! None of the knowledge contains divine consciousness!"
"Good."
He climbed the steps into the head of the massive construct—the God of Pure Machinery.
This was no longer the "original" future God of Pure Machinery. Now, it was a towering thousand-meter colossus, dark green with golden lines at its joints, and a cockpit-like structure in its head.
It wasn't just a machine—it was a new, man-made body.
Inside its chest, two chambers pulsed with light. On the left, a green Heart of God radiated a steady glow, its power siphoned through tubes. On the right, a golden Heart of God blazed with equal intensity.
The two divine powers coursed like blood through veins, flooding into the colossus. Scaramouche could already feel its intoxicating strength merging with his consciousness.
"You cannot move yet!" a scholar shouted. "You still need more knowledge to control both Hearts!"
"Hmph. Then hurry."
Crates of canned knowledge were brought in—each like a drive, containing specific knowledge. Inserted into the console, they streamed directly into Scaramouche's mind.
Power was nothing without understanding. And as the data surged into him, though his head spun, his exhilaration only grew.
"Yes… yes! More!"
If only he had known earlier that Raiden Ei's Heart of God was in Yae Miko's hands—he could have taken it as well. With three Hearts, how unstoppable would he have been?
"People laugh at me as shallow, as ridiculous. But what do they know?!" Scaramouche's laughter grew louder. "If any of them had this chance, they'd be even more crazed than I am!"
The progress bars on the consoles climbed steadily.
"Final checks on the vessel?"
"Almost complete!"
"Excellent!"
One of the leading sages clenched his fist, unable to hide his excitement. "The ultimate dream of the City of Wisdom is about to come true!"
…
In the Akademiya, through the Akasha, Azar received the reports from the Jade Factory.
"The City of Wisdom's final dream… about to be realized."
He removed his glasses, polished them with a cloth, and leaned back in his chair, whispering.
"And how will we be judged? The all-knowing, all-powerful King of the Forest has returned… all we've done, what does it mean in her eyes?"
Azar's expression twisted with conflicting emotions. In Sumeru, one might doubt the morals of the sages, but not their devotion to Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. Or rather, to the concept of omniscience.
But Nahida? A child needing to be taught like a student. How could she lead the Nation of Wisdom?
"Sumeru's future… has nothing to do with me anymore."
He dipped his pen and began to write.
To the Greater Lord whom we once swore to follow unto death—
After your fall, generation after generation of sages, myself included, betrayed your hopes. We were seduced by wisdom, ensnared by our pursuit, and we lost our way. Only now do I awaken to my mistake—but it is far too late.
I felt joy at your return, for this land once again has a wise ruler to guide it. Yet that joy is mixed with anger, for the little Lord Kusanali, kind though she may be, is not fit to sit upon your throne.
I will not live to see your return. And I am no longer worthy to be called your follower.
Finishing his words, Azar signed his name at the bottom.
He set down his glasses upon the page to keep it from being carried away by the wind. Then, from within his robe, he drew out a revolver.
His hands trembled—yet when he loaded a single bullet, they were steady as stone.
Click.
He raised the barrel to his temple.
Bang!
At exactly seven o'clock, in the quiet of his office, Azar ended his life.
…
Seven-ten, on the hills outside Sumeru.
"The energy fluctuations are intensifying," Cyno said gravely.
"Finally!" Paimon rubbed her hands in excitement.
"Viewers, we're about to witness the birth of the God of Pure Machinery," Ying smiled faintly at the camera.
Her chat flooded with teasing comments about how she was more reserved in front of her companions.
"Here it comes!" Diluc suddenly said.
Inside the Jade Factory—
"Knowledge infusion complete!"
"Energy stable! Disconnecting restraints!"
"All systems nominal!"
The tubes linking the God of Pure Machinery were detached.
The colossus stretched its arms, as though freed from chains.
Scaramouche roared inside his new body, "Dottore!!!"
The shockwave blasted through the cavern, hurling scholars and Fatui alike against the walls.
Then, with a thunderous quake, the thousand-meter titan pulled itself up through the earth.
Sunlight spilled across its colossal face.
"The ascension… complete. A perfect success."
From the shadows, Dottore chuckled, satisfied. "Then my role here is finished."
"Rat! Where are you?!" the God of Pure Machinery bellowed.
But a cold, mocking voice answered instead.
"Forget Dottore for now…"
Scaramouche turned—and saw Tartaglia walking toward him, cracking his knuckles with a savage grin.
"First, tell me… why did you rob my shipment?"
"Tartaglia?" The giant sneered. "Such a simpleton… everyone in Teyvat knows the answer, yet you come here to ask? Truly a fool with more brawn than brains."
Dark violet energy surged around Tartaglia. His body transformed—bones pale as ivory, a crimson cloak flowing behind him.
The Harbinger's true form emerged in the sky—
The Uncrowned Lord.
He rolled his shoulders and twisted his neck.
"Let's see how you handle me."
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T/N:
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