“Roar…”
The Frostarm Lawachurl stood up from the edge of the cliff upon noticing Jia Changjiang’s presence. It let out a low growl, seemingly warning him not to come any closer.
Jia Changjiang found himself standing before the formidable creature, feeling a bit perplexed by his own actions.
What was I thinking, approaching this Frostarm Lawachurl? Sure, I’ve got my portable space to pull out a weapon anytime, but… it’s still a Hilichurl, isn’t it?
The Frostarm Lawachurl—a king among Hilichurls in the snowy mountains. Dangerous even among its own kind, it was the stuff of legends.
Hilichurls might have their own language and perspective, but the moment Jia Changjiang had just witnessed—the Frostarm Lawachurl clutching snow and flowers with a hint of intent—was unmistakable.
Because of that, Jia Changjiang made his decision.
There had to be some way to communicate with this creature.
After roaring at Jia Changjiang for a while, the Frostarm Lawachurl eventually stood its ground. Behind it, in a cave, its weapons were neatly arranged and ready for use.
But it didn’t pick up a weapon. Instead, it sat down before Jia Changjiang and spoke:
“WU… KU.”
“Wuku?”
Jia Changjiang blinked at the Frostarm Lawachurl, surprised. “Wuku? What does that mean?”
The Frostarm Lawachurl thumped its broad chest with a heavy hand. “WU… KU!”
After several repetitions, Jia Changjiang finally understood what it was trying to convey.
It was telling him its name.
“Wuku! That’s your name, isn’t it?”
With that realization, Jia Changjiang called out the name of the Frostarm Lawachurl and introduced himself in return.
Since the creature’s speech was rough, Jia Changjiang shared the alias he often used in Mondstadt.
“J… ax.”
The Frostarm Lawachurl repeated the name slowly at first, then gradually gained confidence.
“Jax!”
“Wuku!”
Though they couldn’t fully understand each other, a sense of mutual goodwill emerged between the two.
Despite the language barrier, Jia Changjiang and Wuku formed a peculiar sort of friendship—a friendship born on the icy peaks of the mountain.
When Jia Changjiang returned to Albedo’s camp after a day of exploring in the snow, the campfire was already blazing, and a pot of warm soup simmered over it. Lumine was curled up near the fire, soaking in its warmth.
The hidden camp, nestled in a mountain cave, cleverly shielded its occupants from the relentless wind and snow, providing a rare spot of comfort in the frigid environment.
“Jax?” Lumine perked up at his arrival, her curiosity piqued. “So? Did you find anything today? Treasure, perhaps?”
Jia Changjiang brushed the snow off his clothes and took a seat by the fire. “I did find something, but it’s not treasure… more like an artifact that might be considered an antique.”
“Can I take a look?” Albedo asked, intrigued.
Jia Changjiang pulled out a small box he had found and placed it before Lumine and Albedo.
“This appears to be… some kind of key for a mechanism. It doesn’t seem to have much intrinsic value,” Albedo remarked after examining it. “The markings at the bottom seem to be one-third of a pattern. If you can gather all three pieces, it might unlock a hidden treasure.”
“What about the text on it? What does it say?” Lumine pointed to the inscriptions on the box, curious.
“These seem to be written in an ancient script…” Albedo studied the text carefully before beginning his translation:
“The mural will likely remain unfinished.”
“I haven’t seen clear skies or green fields in so long.”
“I no longer know what shades of blue and green to use to paint the thawing of the ice and snow, as Father desired.”
“When he returns, everything will return to how it was. But… it’s so cold. I can’t hold on.”
“I’m sorry, Father. I’m sorry, Wuku, who has watched over our pitiful state.”
“Emonlokha, I wish I could see you one last time.””
Albedo translated the text word by word, his brow furrowed in thought. “Emonlokha… Mondstadt once had a tribe by that name. According to records, they were fierce warriors, but their lineage was short-lived.
“They held a unique belief—that battle was not for defense, glory, or conquest, but to entertain the gods above. Whether facing monsters or invaders, regardless of whether they could return to their loved ones, they believed their duty was fulfilled by shedding blood, roaring, and fighting.”
A glimmer of curiosity lit Albedo’s expression. “It’s surprising to see their name here. Could there be some connection between this snowy mountain and that tribe in Mondstadt?”
“Wait… Wuku?”
Jia Changjiang’s attention was drawn to another name.
The text mentioned Wuku watching over their pitiful state.
Was this Wuku the same as the Frostarm Lawachurl Wuku he had just met?
The legendary Frostarm Lawachurl, said to have roamed the snowy mountain for thousands of years… Was it merely a coincidence that it shared a name with a figure from ancient records?
Or was there something more?
Uncertain, Jia Changjiang sank into thought.
Finally, he turned to Albedo and asked, “If I find the other boxes, could I trouble you to translate them as well?”
“Oh? No problem at all, but gathering all three will likely be quite challenging,” Albedo replied.
Jia Changjiang’s gaze shifted toward a space neither Lumine nor Albedo could see.
A notification from the system had appeared:
[Intent detected. New quest triggered: The Final Path of Sal Vindagnir!]
[Objective: Locate the three boxes—The Princess’ Box (Complete), The Priest’s Box, and The Scribe’s Box.]
[The frozen spikes of the mountain have killed the tree of life, but the dragon’s blood reminds it of its existence…]
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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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