World-class items were so terrifyingly powerful because, in the game, they carried settings that were practically broken.
They were not mere artifacts—
they were manifestations of the world itself.
Almost as if an entire world's might had been condensed, specialized, and funneled into a single ability—or a select few.
In essence, a world-class item was equivalent to the world itself.
The wielder of such an item received a unique buff, [WORLD]—the ultimate protection of an entire plane of existence.
No ordinary weapon or spell could shake that defense.
Only another world-class item could oppose it.
And even then, only the Twenty—the most supreme among them—could break that rule.
In the game, the difference wasn't so obvious.
But now, standing here in reality, Taro could feel the crushing weight of the so-called world-class item in his hand.
At this very moment, he was holding the might of an entire world.
It was terrifying.
"...Suddenly, I really want to smash something."
Taro muttered under his breath.
Hand gripping the World-Class Item: Mjölnir, he glanced around.
Right now, everything he saw looked like a nail waiting to be hammered.
"Taro... I urge you to act with caution."
Even as he barely held up a protective ward for the other adepti under the weapon's oppressive aura, Zhongli forced himself to speak calmly.
But inwardly, his heart was pounding.
If Taro let that hammer fall here—
no, if he let it fall anywhere—
this cave-dwelling wouldn't even last a second.
The entire land of Liyue would quake.
That hammer gave him one overwhelming impression:
It could not be blocked.
It could not be resisted.
It allowed no survival.
'So this… is what it means to be a Descender?'
For the first time in countless years, Zhongli truly felt fear.
Even Alice the Witch, so often lauded as a great anomaly, felt like a mere child compared to this.
"...Fair enough."
Taro gave the hammer a little wave, sending arcs of lightning ripping through the sky.
Then, with a sudden motion, he lifted it, pointing the weapon straight at Guizhong's divine remains.
His eyes burned with lightning.
"In the name of thunder, I command you—return."
This was not a request.
This was a declaration.
An absolute command—unbreakable.
CRACK—BOOOM!
The hammer roared with light, a single bolt of pure thunder plunging into the ancient godly remains.
The stubborn residue of divinity clinging to the bones, festering for over two millennia, evaporated instantly under that strike.
Stone and dust swirled, flesh long lost reforming.
Fragments knitted together.
And then—
when the body was whole again—
The soul returned.
Life surged.
After over three thousand years, the Dust King Guizhong awoke once more.
Vmmm~
Mjölnir buzzed faintly in Taro's hand.
It was trembling with eagerness.
Excited.
Begging to fight.
"Don't worry… not yet."
Sensing the hammer's will, Taro smirked.
"You'll get your chance to smash things later."
Vmmm!
As if satisfied with that promise, the weapon's lightning slowly dimmed.
The overwhelming pressure lifted.
The storm dispersed, its deadly arcs retreating into the hammer.
"Good. And one more thing—shrink down. I can't exactly carry you around like this."
Vmmm.
Obediently, the massive Mjölnir compressed, shrinking into a palm-sized pendant that floated up and hooked itself onto Taro's belt.
Neat and convenient.
"Good boy."
Taro gave it a satisfied nod, then gestured toward Guizhong, whose consciousness was finally returning.
"See? She's alive. I won't intrude on your reunion. I'll be waiting back in Liyue Harbor."
And with that, he opened a teleportation gate—
and left without another word.
Because he knew—
the ones left behind had countless things to say to their resurrected friend.
He, as an outsider, had no right to linger.
"This..."
Zhongli stood stunned.
He wanted to follow—but… somehow, he couldn't.
"...Taro surely won't cause trouble… right?"
Even so, there was a trace of unease.
But there was no more time to dwell.
All eyes turned to the figure stirring within the fading glow.
Guizhong's eyes fluttered open.
"What is… this…?"
Her gaze swept across the gathered crowd.
So many familiar faces.
Then—
"Guizhong!!"
A streak of azure light flew into her arms.
Instinctively, Guizhong caught the figure—
Madame Ping, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Blinking at the taller woman in her embrace, Guizhong chuckled softly:
"Ahh… who made my Ping cry? Don't cry, don't cry. Look at you—you've grown so tall, I can barely hold you anymore."
"..."
Madame Ping wiped her eyes, stepping back only to stare in awe.
Her friend—her dearest companion—was alive.
"...What's wrong?"
Guizhong brushed away the lingering tears from her face, voice gentle:
"I don't understand it yet… but it must have been a long time, hasn't it?"
"I'm sorry, for making everyone…"
"Hmph."
Cloud Retainer huffed, feathers ruffled:
"Quite a long time indeed.
Two thousand three hundred and twenty-three years, thirteen days, and three hours, six quarters."
"..."
Guizhong blinked.
She remembered so precisely?
Smiling wryly, she turned to the others.
"Forgive me, everyone. I've slept far too long. I've missed… so much."
"Not long. Not long at all."
Madame Ping shook her head firmly.
"Now that you're back—that's all that matters."
"Exactly."
Moon Carver let out a deep sigh.
"Back is all that matters."
"Indeed."
River Carver nodded quickly, eyes shining with relief.
"..."
Finally, Guizhong's gaze landed on Zhongli.
"Morax. It's been a long time."
"Mm."
Zhongli's lips curved faintly.
"It has indeed. Welcome home."
Another old friend revived.
His heart was at ease.
Though, inwardly, he already began calculating his remaining assets.
How many more could he afford to bring back?
He would need new ways to earn…
"Morax…"
Guizhong tilted her head, eyes glimmering with curiosity.
"You've… changed appearances again?"
"Of course. When walking among mortals, it is better to wear an ordinary face."
"Ahh. I see. Morax—tell me… how fares Guili Plains?"
"The Guili Assembly of old… is now called Liyue."
"Liyue… Liyue."
She whispered the name, tasting it.
"…It's beautiful."
Then, spreading her arms behind her back, she turned among the gathered immortals, smiling brightly.
"My friends… will you take me to see this new Liyue? I can't wait another moment. I'm so curious what the world looks like after three thousand years."
"I'll take you."
Madame Ping grabbed her arm eagerly.
"The rest of them are hermits. I know Liyue Harbor best. Let me show you."
"Mm, then I'll be counting on you."
Guizhong agreed without hesitation, nodding toward the others:
"My friends, Ping and I will explore first. We'll see you again soon."
"Come on~"
Madame Ping was already tugging her along, not sparing anyone else a chance to object.
In a flash of light, the two streaked away, leaving only wide-eyed immortals behind.
Zhongli simply shook his head.
"…Let them go. For Guizhong, no one is happier than Ping right now.
It's good for her to guide her, help her adjust to today's world."
"That girl—!"
Cloud Retainer's wings flared, glaring furiously.
"So diligent, isn't she? Hmph! Infuriating! Absolutely infuriating!"
"Now, now…"
Moon Carver stepped in to calm things.
"She's back. There will be time for reunions. No need to quarrel now."
"Hah?!"
Cloud Retainer turned on him with a glare.
"You think I'm jealous? No! I'm furious that none of you stopped her! How useless can you be?!"
"..."
The others exchanged helpless glances.
What about you—you didn't stop her either!
(End of Chapter)
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