“No! I can’t accept this! If I only take one half, the sword can’t be restored, and I won’t be able to prove the God of Salt’s power!”
After a long moment of hesitation, Wanyan remained as determined as ever. “Even if it means breaking the contract, I won’t stop!!!”
“Do you think you could defeat Zhongli?” Lumine asked, raising an eyebrow. “Honestly, I don’t think you’d even beat Kliment from earlier.”
“I can’t… but I also can’t give up on taking both pieces of the sword!” Wanyan shot back. “This is my faith in her! There’s no way I could abandon it!”
“Breaking the contract means you’ll face the punishment of stone,” Zhongli reminded her calmly.
“The God of Salt sacrificed even her life to protect her followers. Compared to her…” Wanyan’s expression grew manic. “My sacrifice is nothing!”
“Mr. Zhongli, punish me however you like, as long as I can bring back proof of my faith!” she pleaded, her eyes resolute. “This is my belief in the God of Salt!”
Zhongli closed his eyes and shook his head wearily.
“No, you can’t hit a girl!” Paimon fretted, worried that Zhongli might be too harsh.
Although Wanyan was indeed difficult to deal with, treating her like that Fatui agent from earlier would be… excessive.
“If such an action would bring her peace, perhaps it would be a simpler solution,” Zhongli murmured. “But…” He raised his gaze, his expression neutral. “As punishment, I will tell you the truth.”
“What?” Wanyan froze, caught off guard. “You’re saying… the truth is my punishment?”
Jia Changjiang stepped forward, shaking his head. “Miss Wanyan, I’ve been trying to tell you something since before we entered the ruins.”
“You’ve been making assumptions about the events of the past, basing everything on preconceived notions and blind speculation. And now, just seeing this broken sword, you’ve jumped to conclusions without even examining it closely.”
“Faith, when reasonable, does not make people lose themselves. What you’re clinging to isn’t faith—it’s your own guesses.” He gestured at the broken blade, picking up one of the fragments. “You’ve insisted that Morax killed the God of Salt. But your so-called ‘proof’…”
He held up the fragment and smirked. “If you can’t interpret it, how about I help you?”
Jia Changjiang turned the fragment in his hand. “Zhongli is a man of vast knowledge, yet even he hasn’t spoken definitively about this artifact. Meanwhile, you’re so quick to claim it’s evidence of the God of Salt’s resistance.”
He gestured to Lumine and Paimon, who both tilted their heads at the sudden mention. “Let’s skip over those two—they’re more experienced in treasure hunting than you are.”
Pointing to himself, he continued, “And when Zhongli introduced me earlier, he mentioned that I know plenty about weapons.”
“So tell me—are you so confident your judgment is correct?”
Jia Changjiang’s gaze was piercing as he posed his question. “I’m not trying to play the mediator here. Some people just won’t listen no matter what you say.”
“If you truly want to uncover the truth, brace yourself. No matter what happens or what you see, don’t turn away. Watch it all the way through.” His voice turned firm. “But don’t run off crying when the truth doesn’t align with your world. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”
“You… what are you trying to say?” Wanyan glared at Jia Changjiang, her voice laced with defiance. “Are you all saying… that the truth itself is my punishment?”
“Yes,” Zhongli confirmed with a nod. “Learning the truth is the price you’ll pay for breaking the contract.”
“What kind of punishment is that…” Wanyan’s voice faltered, her confusion apparent.
Lumine’s eyes widened slightly, an idea dawning on her. “Wait… the truth isn’t what Wanyan thinks it is, is it?”
Jia Changjiang glanced at Zhongli for permission. “May I?”
“Go ahead.” Zhongli nodded. “After all, this sword was not Havria’s weapon. You’re better suited to explain.”
“Huh?” Even Lumine looked surprised.
“Not the God of Salt’s weapon?” Paimon blinked, her voice rising in disbelief. “But the other artifacts—the Salt Chalice and the Salt Ruler—both carried her powers. This place is even deeper in the ruins than before, so this broken sword should be more significant, right?”
“That’s impossible!”
Wanyan shook her head violently. “If it’s not the God of Salt’s weapon, then why is it broken? Why was it enshrined here?”
“I don’t know the reason behind its placement,” Jia Changjiang said. “But this weapon isn’t what you think it is. It wasn’t broken in battle with Morax.”
“This sword…” He trailed off briefly before continuing, “…wasn’t destroyed in combat. It was deliberately broken later.”
He paused, then drew his own polearm from his storage space and drove it into the ground with a heavy thud.
“As a weapon of a god, this broken blade… is far too weak. It’s not worthy of being called a divine weapon. It’s even inferior to this spear of mine.” He tapped the ground next to the embedded weapon. “This sword looks like it was crafted by mortals for mortal use.”
“No! That’s impossible! If it’s not her weapon, why would it be enshrined in this sacred place? This is the temple the God of Salt built! She—”
Her words faltered as realization began to seep in, leaving her speechless.
“No. Havria was not a strong god during the Archon War,” Zhongli said, his voice measured. “In fact, she was one of the weakest. Timid, gentle, and frail, she could never have risen to become one of the Seven.”
“She was… a loser.”
“What are you saying…” Wanyan’s voice was barely a whisper, as though her strength had been drained.
She wanted to refute him, to reassure herself that her beliefs were correct. But deep down, the weight of Zhongli’s words crushed her resolve.
“During the Archon War, the gods of Teyvat fought with all their strength and wits to claim the land. But Havria chose to flee from conflict.”
“She gathered those displaced by war, leading them here to build a town. In a world torn apart by chaos, she sought to create a haven and hoped for a peaceful resolution with the other gods.”
Zhongli looked directly at Wanyan as he continued, his words dismantling her faith piece by piece.
“But in a war spanning centuries, there is no end to retreating.”
—
T/N: ur more of a loser than Havria
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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