This… isn't how the story was supposed to go, right?
All things come in threes. Once, twice, then a third time—never a fourth.Three births all things.Third time's the charm. Victor Wang had believed that the third time he clashed with the instructor would be the moment he triumphed.
But if something couldn't be done on the third try, then maybe it would be third-time unlucky, worn and exhausted.
Reality, however, chose this very moment to prove itself. This was the third encounter.
He wasn't afraid of dying or failing. What unsettled him was that the instructor clearly wasn't himself.
Defending with all his might, Victor Wang spun the dial on Wentian Sword's hilt. Most elements were hindered by the downpour—only Electro and Cryo could be of use.
He chose Cryo.
With a surge, the muddy ground underfoot froze. The instructor's steps halted momentarily—just for less than a second—but it bought Victor Wang a breath of air.
Why did the instructor become like this? Was it that sword? And why come after me?
Three thoughts flashed through his mind as the instructor resumed his advance, water splashing with each heavy footstep.
"Instructor!"
Victor Wang froze the ground ahead again and shouted to distract him. In the same motion, he swung Wentian Sword, flinging mud toward the instructor's eyes.
Clang!
But the instructor shut his eyes, catching the strike with precision. The black sword slid along Wentian Sword's edge, aiming to sever Victor Wang's fingers.
He couldn't dodge.
Victor Wang slipped into the Light Realm. But his mind was already pushed to its limits, on the brink of collapse.
The instructor didn't follow—but two curved wind blades suddenly materialized in the air, slicing at him from both sides.
Victor Wang reappeared above the instructor, diving down in a powerful slash, targeting the sword arm.
He had no strength left to save the instructor without harming him.
He never had that strength to begin with.
The instructor didn't even move his body. The black sword twisted unnaturally in his wrist, lifting his arm as if hoisting the weapon onto his shoulder.
["How troublesome."]
The sword spoke.
A surge of force stronger than before flung Victor Wang back. Wentian Sword dug deep into the earth, carving a groove before he managed to stop.
His right hand braced against the blade, head throbbing, chest heaving. But hidden behind that arm, nestled against his chest, his left hand formed a pale green orb.
The instructor, still steered by the sword, approached again—then suddenly froze in place.
"Please don't tell me to run again. I can't outrun you…" Victor Wang forced a bitter laugh.
As if hearing his words, the instructor's body trembled. His face twisted, almost as if resisting something. But eventually, he kept walking—each step a splash that sounded like it would crush Victor Wang beneath it.
Come on, then! Come!
Clang!
Wentian Sword was knocked aside. But the dagger that had been sent flying earlier now shot toward the instructor's back like a lightning drill.
The sword, as if with eyes on its back—or perhaps needing no eyes at all—twisted the instructor's wrist, reversing its grip. With a bizarre movement, the arm intercepted the dagger cleanly.
"You've lost!" Victor Wang slammed the green orb in his left hand onto the instructor's sword hand.
["Pathetic."]
The sword twisted again. Though fast, it didn't have time to return to a forward grip. How could it block this?
So, the instructor, still clutching the hilt, drove the downward-facing blade through Victor Wang's foot.
["This body—I like it. I won't let you destroy it."]
By the time Victor Wang realized it, his left hand had been severed—blood, dark and thick, gushed out.
The orb in that hand lost control, shredding the severed hand to pulp. Then it fell, burrowing into the ground, forming a rapidly expanding crater. Wind elemental energy raged within, erasing any raindrops that fell into it.
But it was no longer important.
"AAAHHHH!"
A thunderous roar tore through the storm—it came from the instructor.
The pain of his lost hand sent shockwaves through Victor Wang's fragile mind. It felt like a string had snapped. He could no longer even scream.
He was about to faint.
In his dimming vision, the instructor trembled. Suddenly, he drove the sword toward his own heart. The black blade leapt free before it could land the blow.
In that single instant, the instructor's body and the sword lost contact. His mind cleared.
He didn't hesitate—his right fist slammed into his chest.
Thump!
Like the sound of a war drum.
Blood spattered from his mouth—viscera mixed with it—blending with Victor Wang's blood and soaking the earth crimson.
Earth, grass, blood… the scent of death rose through the rain and into Victor Wang's nose.
No…
He wanted to summon Alice using his wristband—but it had vanished with his left hand.
["Foolish. Did you think that would stop me?"]
The sword returned, once again seizing control of the instructor. His eyes turned dull once more.
It drove the body forward, thrusting the blade into Victor Wang—piercing his cloak, his chest, his heart. The tip protruded from his back.
Victor Wang's stunned gaze locked on the blade embedded in his body. It hummed. Through the bone conduction of his ribs, he heard it clearly in his ears: ["This is your destined death."]
The spiral on the sword's hilt spun faster, as if to absorb his body.
But before it could finish, Victor Wang's body began to disintegrate into points of light.
Mostly black. But if one looked closely—tinges of soft cyan were mixed within.
["?"]
The spiral spun faster. His body faded faster. In less than a second, he was gone—leaving only the tossed-aside Wentian Sword and the instructor's dying body.
Then, Wentian Sword also vanished into black light.
["Life. I need life!"]
The sword dragged the instructor's body, searching for life in the surroundings. But even as the body weakened to the point of immobility, it found not even a bird.
This… was unexpected.
It could not afford to be exposed.
Just before the body went rigid, the sword reversed the spiral, releasing a strange force to heal the instructor's wounds—just enough. Then it made him flee toward the eastern sea.
Moments after he left, a green figure arrived, carried by the wind.
"Already… at this stage? I wonder—is this change for better or worse?"
Venti gently summoned a soft teal particle of elemental energy between his fingers. "You've drifted… all the way here, huh?"
A Thunder Raven, composed of Electro energy, swooped through the storm. Though its presence was concealed well, Venti noticed it—and the bird, in turn, noticed him.
Their eyes met. No words exchanged. The raven chased after the fleeing instructor.
Venti sighed. He knew that one only ever watched—never intervened.
Oh, and at critical moments? It always ran away.
He had forced it to act once before. But its meager strength wasn't worth much anyway.
He plucked the strings of a plain lyre. Soft teal light pierced through wind and rain, gathering before him in a glowing orb.
He didn't follow the instructor's footsteps.
Instead, he traced the path backward—closer and closer to where Victor Wang had vanished. The orb grew larger and brighter.
And so, he played—his song unheard—until no light answered him anymore...
...
"Old Nat! Malcolm! Help me out here! The rain's getting worse—I can't move all this by myself!"
"Sheesh! I told you at noon it was gonna pour, but no, you wouldn't listen. Now you're dragging us into it!"
"How could I have known it'd be this bad… I figured I'd just cover it with a tarp—gotta take it back out for tomorrow's banquet anyway. Why haul it all twice?"
"You…" Nat shook his head. "My old bones can't carry barrels of wine anymore. I'll go get more hands."
"Hey! No—don't tell them!"
"And if the wine's ruined, what'll you tell the master?"
"…"
"Jeffrey! Vic! Moko! Hailey! Come help at the warehouse—it's pouring and the master's goods aren't secured!"
Hearing Nat's shout, a few winery staff donned rain gear and stepped outside.
"Wow—it's really pouring now!"
"Let's hurry—can't risk messing up tomorrow's banquet…"
...
"Your Highness, the Herald has detected… an anomalous energy fluctuation in Windrise, Mondstadt," a Cryo Abyss Mage reported reverently to the golden-haired figure before him.
Two other Abyss Mages shivered upon hearing this.
"They dare?!"
"A bunch of lunatics! Aren't they afraid they'll wake that one in the sky?!"
Seeing no reaction from the golden-haired back, the Cryo mage stopped their chatter and continued, "The energy is faint, but… enough for him to notice. I suspect someone's covering for them—that's why there's been no movement above."
"Hmph. Under a collapsing nest, no egg is left unbroken. No matter which side it is—they'll all pay the price. I didn't think their reach extended into Mondstadt..."
"Send reinforcements. Don't let them harm... Also dispatch another Abyssal Herald—have them try to trace the energy's origin."
"Yes."
"And the plan?"
"All proceeding smoothly."
With a wave, the Cryo mage bowed again, then backed away and left.
"Lumine…"
Aether reached into the air, as if to grasp something—then withdrew his hand to his chest.
But he held… nothing.