Keqing stepped out of the cave mouth, leaving behind the darkness that reeked of blood.
The pale midday sunlight immediately assaulted her, but there was no warmth in it.
The light reflected off the snow surface stretching as far as the eye could see, creating a painful glare.
She paused for a moment. Her breath came out as thick white vapor, trembling in the air before vanishing. She looked up, staring at the iron-gray sky.
No birds were flying.
No clouds were moving.
The sky looked like a coffin lid slowly being lowered onto the world.
She let out a long sigh. Then, she adjusted her torn robe, tightened her grip on her sword sheath, and began walking.
Her destination was the Court of Fontaine, the center of all this madness.
She didn't know what she would find there, or if there was anything left to save.
She only knew that she had to move.
Her feet felt heavy, as if the ground itself was trying to pull her down, asking her to join those sleeping beneath the ice. The northern wind blew relentlessly, carrying sharp ice particles that eroded her smooth facial skin.
She walked past the ruins of abandoned small villages.
Wooden houses with roofs collapsed under the weight of snow, chimneys no longer emitting smoke, and children's toys frozen in the front yards.
The scene was like a tragic still-life painting.
Keqing didn't stop to check.
She rested several times, her body demanding it. She sheltered behind collapsed stone walls or under pine trees whose branches drooped to touch the ground. She ate snow to quench her thirst and consumed her remaining dry rations with a bland taste.
As she sat alone, hugging her knees amid the starting snowstorm, she remembered Liyue.
She recalled the warmth of the sunlight in the harbor, the aroma of Glaze Lilies, and the hustle and bustle of merchants.
That memory felt so distant, like a dream from someone else's life.
Does that world still exist? Or has all of Teyvat become a frozen graveyard like this?
The question had no answer.
So, she stood up again.
She forced her blistered feet to step once more. Forward. Keep moving. Toward the horizon that never drew closer.
Time seemed to lose its meaning in this icy wasteland.
Day turned into a purple dusk, then into a night illuminated by the mocking dancing aurora in the sky.
Keqing kept walking, driven by a determination that surpassed the limits of ordinary human physicality.
Suddenly, she froze.
Her steps halted. She had arrived at the edge of a giant crater.
The ground before her sank, forming a large charred and smoking depression. The snow around the crater had melted, revealing bare black soil and rocks that had melted into glass. The air here was warmer, but it stank. The smell of sulfur, ozone, and a death older than what she had smelled in the cave.
Keqing descended the crater's slope carefully, her boots crunching on the glass gravel.
She swept her gaze around, her Aetheresthesia pulsing softly.
And there, at the bottom of the crater, amid the debris still emitting thin smoke, she suddenly saw something.
A man. He stood casually, his back leaning against the remains of a charred concrete pillar, as if waiting for a bus in the midst of the apocalypse.
He wore a long robe covering his entire body, its color a dark gray like volcanic ash. The hood of his robe was pulled forward, completely covering his face in dark shadow.
Keqing stopped ten meters from him.
The man didn't move as Keqing approached. He seemed so calm, so blended with the destruction around him.
"Is wearing a robe and covering the face a trend in this hell?" Keqing asked, her voice sharp and sarcastic, breaking the crater's silence. She tried to provoke a reaction, trying to read her interlocutor.
The man chuckled softly. His voice was low, heavy, and vibrated in the chest, like the sound of large stones grinding at the bottom of a river.
"You're wearing one too," he replied casually. His hand, hidden behind the robe's sleeve, vaguely pointed toward Keqing's dirty and torn purple robe, whose hood she also wore to cover her face.
Keqing narrowed her eyes.
The man straightened his body, moving his back away from the pillar. He turned his head slightly, as if observing Keqing from behind the darkness of his hood.
"Has Jason taken good care of you... Player?"
At that moment, Keqing's heart suddenly pounded hard. Her blood turned cold.
The man took one step forward. His movement was slow.
"Or..." he continued, his voice now filled with an amused tone. "...should I call you Keqing?"
Hearing this, Keqing's brow immediately furrowed.
With a movement so fast it was almost invisible to the eye, Keqing drew her sword from her inventory.
The metal blade gleamed purple under the crater's dim light, infused with angrily hissing Electro energy.
She pointed the sword tip straight at the mysterious man's heart.
…
The night in Ritou felt different.
In Inazuma City, the night was adorned with warm lantern lights and faint laughter.
Here, the night was a thick, damp blanket that swallowed all light and sound.
Sara walked alone down the narrow stone paths, her dark-colored robe helping her blend with the dense shadows between the dilapidated wooden buildings.
The air felt cold and sticky, filled with the salty scent from the sea, the fishy smell from drying fishing nets, and the faint aroma of cheap spilled sake from closed taverns.
The only sounds accompanying her were the sad howling wind as it passed through holed roofs and the ropes of ships moored in the harbor.
The wind carried strange noises: the tinkling of wind chimes hanging from a broken window, the creak of a shop sign swinging in the breeze, and the crash of waves hitting the wooden pillars at the dock with a slow, tireless rhythm.
Each of her rigid and measured steps on the wet pavement sounded so clear.
Her head kept turning left and right, her sharp eyes scanning every dark corner, every narrow alley, searching for signs of threat.
Not long after, she finally arrived at her destination: the farthest dock. Its wooden planks were mostly rotten and covered in green moss, some even holed, revealing the black, rippling seawater below.
The aroma here was stronger; the smell of wet wood and salt now mixed with the faint scent of rotting seaweed.
At the end of the dock, under the pale full moonlight that managed to pierce through cloud gaps, a man's back was visible. He leaned against a rusted mooring post, staring at the dark, endless ocean.
His clothing was ordinary, just like the other stranded Ritou residents. His posture seemed relaxed.
Sara approached, her footsteps now almost silent like a hunting cat's.
The man, as if just noticing her presence, flinched slightly in surprise before smiling and turning with a motion too smooth for genuine shock.
His face… was truly ordinary. No threatening scars, no sly gaze, no distinctive features at all.
It was a face that would be forgotten five minutes after meeting him, the kind that could blend perfectly into a crowd.
But behind that ordinariness, his dull brown eyes stared at Sara.
The man bowed slightly in a polite manner, his unarmed hands outstretched to the sides as if welcoming an honored guest.
"General Kujou. An honor," he said, his voice sounding friendly and calm, completely mismatched with the dock's tense atmosphere.
"I didn't expect you to come yourself. Truly courageous."
Sara stopped a few steps in front of him, maintaining a safe distance on the creaking wooden planks.
Her clenched hand at her side slowly relaxed, her muscles loose but ready to summon her bow at any time.
Her golden eyes stared sharply at the ordinary face before her, trying to pierce through its emotionless facade, searching for lies behind it. This face… I can't read it.
"No need for small talk," she hissed, her voice sharp and cutting through the cold night air. "I've kept my promise by coming alone. Now, give me the information you promised."
The man chuckled softly, a sound that seemed friendly but somehow felt cold. He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked casually along the dock's edge, his hand tracing the rotten, splintered wooden railing.
His eyes kept glancing around, toward the shadows between old dark warehouses, toward the silent building roofs.
"Well, no need to rush, General. The night is still long, isn't it?" He stopped and stared at the endless ocean.
"Besides, the view is so beautiful. Full moon, sound of waves… perfect atmosphere for an honest negotiation."
He turned back to Sara, his head slightly tilted. "And it seems you really didn't bring any of your loyal guard dogs. I'm impressed with your professionalism."
He's stalling, Sara thought, the muscles in her jaw tensing, her teeth grinding softly.
"So," the man said, pausing, his tone now slightly more serious, more like a merchant starting a bargain.
"What do you really want to know from a lowly informant like me?"
At that moment, Sara's patience finally ran out.
With one swift and fluid motion like water, a pitch-black bow adorned with a tengu emblem appeared in her hand in a flash of purple lightning, an arrow made of pure Electro energy already nocked on its string, ready to fly at any time.
The air around them crackled with wild electrical energy, and the sharp ozone smell now overpowered the sea salt.
"Don't play games with me anymore," she hissed, her voice now cold and full of threat. "I came for answers, not to play riddles with a rat like you."
The man raised both hands in a fake surrender gesture.
However, somehow his body showed no signs of fear at all. Instead, on his ordinary face, Sara could see his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he had just found something very interesting.
"Alright, alright. Straight to the point, huh?" He paused, as if enjoying the moment. "But, you better watch your mouth, General, if you don't want to get hurt."
He snapped his fingers.
SNAP!
The sharp, dry snap of fingers seemed to be a signal, an invisible command.
From every dark corner around the dock, from behind moldy cargo crate stacks, from inside empty gaping warehouses, even from the previously silent building roofs, dozens of human figures began to emerge like ghosts.
The sound of heavy footsteps, the clinking of weapons drawn from sheaths, and low growls full of hatred now broke the night's silence.
They were ronin, smugglers, and Ritou thugs, a mob united by one thing: their deep hatred for the Tenryou Commission. Their rough, scarred faces stared at Sara with a mixture of greed, lust, and long-buried anger.
The aroma of cheap alcohol, sour sweat, and dried blood now filled the air, creating a nauseating smell.
They slowly formed a tight circle, surrounding Sara at the dock's end, cutting off all her escape routes.
The man lowered his hands and laughed softly, a laugh that sounded so cold and calculated.
"Look around you, General," he said. "This is my product. Hatred. Despair. Ritou is full of commodities like this. And I… I know how to gather them. I know how to direct them."
He paused, letting his words sink in.
"These people have some personal grudges against you, General."
He continued, his voice still light and unburdened.
"And I am someone who always keeps his promises. So, do you want to know who attacked your cronies? Alright."
He paced casually in front of the angry mob, as if he had no shame at all.
Then, he stopped and stared straight at Sara. He closed his eyes briefly, as if thinking hard. "Honestly. I don't know who he is either."
Sara, who had been holding back her anger, nearly released her arrow right then.
But she managed to restrain herself, sensing that this man wasn't done talking.
The man opened his eyes. "But, I can tell you this. He doesn't seem to be from Inazuma. After a little investigation, I found that he just bought that mask and clothing on the black market on the same day he appeared.
"And I heard word of mouth about a pirate ship that just arrived. I think he came on that ship."
He paused again, letting the information sink in, as if enjoying every second of the tension he created.
"But setting all that aside, he is a very competent person. Very efficient. There's no one like him that I've seen. He can even complete the task I gave him so easily and quickly."
He leaned forward. "Oh yes, by the way, the task I gave him was…."
He smiled, and on his ordinary face, Sara could see infinite horror.
"To create a little chaos on the Tenryou Commission's supply caravan."
Upon hearing that confession, a silent roar full of anger exploded inside her. Her golden eyes now glowed with fierce purple light, and the air around her crackled violently with uncontrolled Electro energy.
Kujou Sara's self-control finally shattered!
She drew her bowstring to its limit, the lightning arrow in her hand now shining so brightly it was blinding, ready to erase the man before her from the face of the earth.
Seeing that reaction, the smile on the man's face widened, turning into a horrifying grin.
…
The high stone walls seemed to bend to crush anyone daring to pass through them.
The moonlight couldn't penetrate this depth; the only illumination came from lumitoile growing wild between the bricks, emitting a sickly pale blue glow.
In the midst of that gloom, a man walked.
He was tall, his posture upright. His hair was pitch black, blending perfectly with the surrounding darkness. His jaw was firm, his nose aquiline, and his eyes had a disturbing depth, as if he had stared into the abyss too long and the abyss had begun to stare back.
The sound of his footsteps was soft.
tap… tap… tap…
A regular rhythm on the dirty puddles, flowing through the alley like smoke.
In his right hand, a gold coin danced.
The coin spun, jumping from index finger to middle finger, then to ring finger, and back again.
The man didn't look at his coin. His gaze was straight ahead, piercing the darkness.
At that moment, he suddenly stopped.
He closed his eyes slowly, enjoying the sensation of the world suddenly becoming total darkness behind his eyelids. A thin, almost invisible smile touched the corner of his lips.
His thumb moved.
TING!
The gold coin was flicked into the air. It shot up, spinning wildly in the darkness, catching a bit of blue light from the moss on the wall, creating a hypnotic strobe flash.
The man kept his eyes closed. He didn't need to see. He could hear the coin's spin slicing the air.
He could feel its weight as gravity began pulling it back to earth.
Then, his hand rose casually, palm open then closing quickly.
HAP.
He caught the coin without looking, feeling the cold metal pressing against his palm.
And when he opened his eyes, the world around him had changed.
The previously empty alley was now filled with silhouettes.
They emerged from the shadows, from the cracks of broken doors, from the low roofs.
A group of people, standing surrounding him. They wore hooded robes made of rough and dirty cloth, gray like grave dust. Their faces were completely hidden behind the hood's darkness, showing no eyes, nose, or mouth.
Only emptiness staring back.
They made no sound. They stood there like pillars of salt waiting for a storm, blocking the man's way forward and backward.
The black-haired man wasn't surprised. He just stood there, gripping his gold coin tightly.
Slowly, his smile widened.
"Thank you for welcoming me," he said.
His voice echoed off the narrow alley walls. His tone was polite, too polite for a situation where his life was at stake.
The hooded figures didn't answer. They just closed ranks, their simultaneous steps making no sound, as if floating above the ground.
However, the man remained calm. Instead, he raised his right hand, the one not holding the coin. His middle finger and thumb joined.
"You know," he continued, his dark eyes gleaming with a light not from this world, "I always like surprise parties. But unfortunately, I don't have time to dance with you on this dirty dance floor."
He looked at each hooded figure one by one.
"So, allow me to send you to a more… lively place."
His fingers tensed.
SNAP!
The snap sounded odd, like the sound of a dry branch breaking in a winter forest.
Instantly, behind each hooded figure, the air began to vibrate. Space and time at those points began to warp, stretching to their limits, and then… tore.
WUUUSSH…
A sound like a hurricane being sucked into a small hole was heard.
Dimensional rifts opened.
Their shapes irregular, like tears in the world's canvas. The edges jagged, emitting a painful dark purple light—the color of an unhealed bruise.
Inside the rifts, there were no alley walls, no city, no sky. Only swirling darkness, like an endless void vortex, adorned with black lightning flashes and dying stars.
It was the Abyss.
The hooded figures suddenly jerked. They felt the pull. Their robes billowed wildly, drawn backward toward the gaping holes. Their feet lifted off the ground. They tried to resist, trying to grasp the air, the walls, each other.
The black-haired man stood motionless amid the dimensional storm, his hair only slightly blown by the suction wind.
He watched one of the hooded figures lift completely, its body arching strangely as it was sucked into the portal behind it.
One by one, the besiegers vanished.
They were pulled back, into the dimensional rifts. The rifts devoured them without remnant.
In a matter of seconds, the alley was empty again.
The dimensional rifts vibrated briefly, as if swallowing their meal, then slowly closed back. The purple edges met, stitching back the wounds on reality, until finally vanishing without a trace, leaving the damp, mossy alley walls as before.
The man lowered his hand. He let out a long sigh, white vapor escaping his mouth, dancing in the now calm air.
His smile returned, this time softer, but his eyes remained cold, as cold as distant stars.
"Well then," he whispered to the emptiness he had just created.
He resumed playing with the gold coin in his fingers, letting it roll over the back of his hand.
"Have a good adventure in the Abyss."
...
A/N: Honestly, I've already written the draft to completion. I just need to translate it and upload it gradually. Well, you could say this story has been finished since I uploaded chapter 131 xD
Btw, I'm still expecting comments!
If you want to read the 7 advanced chapters with a faster update frequency than the webnovel, you can read it on my patreon whose link is below:
https://www.pâtreon.com/Junxt
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