The moment Venti’s melody from the Holy Lyre began, the winds hesitated, pausing as if to listen.
The song, interwoven with the gentle tones of the harp, spread across the battlefield, soothing the raging gales. The storm’s fury began to subside, and the once-violent winds calmed as though lulled by the bard’s music.
It wasn’t just the winds that stilled. The raging battle between the demon and the dragon faltered for a moment as both combatants heard the melody, their violent movements slowing.
The song carried an echo of familiarity.
Dvalin’s memory stirred. It had once been mesmerized by the free-flowing winds and songs of old, charmed by the beauty of poetry and music. But that was before endless suffering, before the long torment that had awoken it to a world filled with curses and pain.
Before its eyes now was a god it had once served, yet now loathed. Dvalin’s anguish overwhelmed its memories of joy, and its fury surged anew.
“Barbatos!!!”
Abandoning the demon, Dvalin roared and lunged toward Venti, its six wings beating furiously. All it could see was the Archon who had forsaken it, the god it blamed for its suffering.
The dragon’s hatred drowned out any lingering affection for the melody.
Venti remained unmoved, continuing to play his song, even as Dvalin closed the distance.
“Look out!”
Diluc instinctively raised his claymore, its flames roaring to life as he prepared to intercept the dragon. But before he could act, something unexpected happened.
The dragon suddenly stopped mid-charge, its motion arrested in midair.
Dvalin’s six wings still beat ferociously, propelling it forward, but it could go no further.
The cause stood behind it.
The demon had gripped the dragon’s tail, its massive hand locking Dvalin in place with an unrelenting grip.
“Step back, you maddened beast!”
With a growl of exertion, the demon pulled the dragon backward, muscles bulging grotesquely. Then, with a vicious swing, it hurled Dvalin to the side as though wielding the dragon as a weapon.
The immense force sent Dvalin crashing into a nearby platform, shattering it into rubble. The dragon tumbled into the swirling storm below, its wings broken but already mending in the gathering winds.
“Mr. Jax threw it off!”
Paimon’s voice was jubilant as she floated higher to get a better view.
Jean nodded, her tone carrying a mix of hope and relief. “Is it the harp’s melody? Could it be that Venti’s music helped Jax regain control? If so, that would be—”
But before she could finish, the demon turned its attention toward Venti.
With one powerful beat of its crimson wings, the demon surged forward, closing the distance in an instant.
“Venti! Get out of there!” Lumine shouted.
Almost as if in response to her warning, the demon’s massive hand reached out, snatching Venti mid-song.
The impact shook the platform as the demon slammed Venti onto the stone, cracks spiderwebbing outward from where its hand pinned him.
“Venti!!!”
“Lord Barbatos!”
The cries of the others echoed across the battlefield, but the demon paid them no mind.
Its massive frame loomed over the bard, towering nearly ten meters tall with its dark wings spread wide.
“I warned you, Wind God!” the demon roared, its voice a tempest of anger and hatred. “I told you to LEAVE this battlefield—or I would kill you myself!”
The colossal sword struck the platform with a deafening crash, its blade embedding itself mere inches from Venti’s face.
The demon’s burning crimson eyes glared down at him.
“Is this a challenge, god?!”
“I despise all gods! I am a God-Slayer! I will march forward, crushing light beneath my feet, creating an eternal darkness!”
The demon’s voice reverberated through the air, each word dripping with venom. “You squander your power on foolish ideals. Love? Hope? Freedom? You DARE call these your gifts to this world?!”
It laughed bitterly, the sound as harsh as grinding metal.
“Your words and deeds are nothing but lies! You inspire only suffering, and I will silence your song!”
Its grip tightened around Venti, and he let out a muffled gasp of pain.
“You and your song will die here, Wind God!”
“I am Aatrox!” the demon bellowed, dropping to one knee as it pressed down on Venti. “I am the Darkin! I am annihilation! I am destruction! I am the END!”
Its voice grew even louder, shaking the platform.
“My will surpasses death! I am the WORLD ENDER!”
“No… that’s not who you are.”
Venti’s voice was calm, even as he struggled to draw breath. His hand reached out, resting gently on the demon’s massive, twisted fingers.
“You are Jax Lancelot. You are Jia Changjiang. These memories—they’re not yours, Jax.”
Venti’s tone softened, carrying a warmth that seemed almost out of place amidst the chaos.
“Don’t let someone else’s hatred drown out your own name, your own story.”
The demon hesitated, its burning eyes narrowing.
“You…”
The melody resumed, Venti’s harp strings vibrating beneath the demon’s grasp.
The song was quiet, yet persistent, carrying a faint echo of hope.
The demon growled, shaking its head as if trying to rid itself of the sound. It yanked its sword from the ground, raising it high above the bard.
But before the blade could descend, a sharp pain shot through its hand. The demon froze, its grip loosening just enough for Venti to slip free.
Lumine dashed forward, catching Venti before he could fall. She placed herself between the demon and the bard, her sword drawn.
“Jia Changjiang!” she shouted, her voice filled with fury. “You can’t kill him!”
Her golden eyes locked onto the demon’s burning crimson gaze.
“Wake up! You told me you didn’t want to see anymore sorrow—so what are you doing now?!”
The demon’s growl faltered, the words catching in its throat.
“I… I…”
Its mind reeled, the weight of Lumine’s words pressing against the chaotic storm of its emotions.
Who was it? Aatrox? The Darkin Blade? Jia Changjiang?
Its gaze fell to Venti, who coughed weakly, blood trailing from the corner of his lips.
“For what reason…”
The demon’s voice trembled, the words barely audible.
“For what reason am I… here?”
—
T/N: PEAKKKKK also its wind god rn since its basically Aatrox speaking
This is a fan translation of 武器大师在原神绝不死于徒手 by 徐人双 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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