The battle axe cut through the wind barrier surrounding Dvalin, landing a direct blow on its massive frame. Fresh blood spilled from the wound, staining the platform beneath them.
Jia Changjiang leapt again, aiming for Dvalin’s wings. If he could damage them, the dragon would be unable to take off from the platform.
The strike hit its mark, slicing into one of the wings. But despite the injury, Dvalin still managed to unfurl its wings and lift off. The dragon’s massive wingspan swept Jia Changjiang off the platform, sending him crashing back to the ground.
Enraged by the successive injuries, Dvalin let out an earsplitting roar. The winds howled in response, converging on the platform as destructive gales. Whirling gusts transformed into meteor-like projectiles, battering the platform relentlessly. Each impact sent tremors through the ground, leaving cracks that allowed razor-sharp winds to lash at the group.
Thankfully, the other platforms remained intact, spared from the destructive force.
“Use the wind currents to move to the other platforms!”
Venti called out, gathering the scattered Anemo sprites into a concentrated wind field to carry Lumine and the others to safety.
The relentless storm forced the group to dodge and weave as the wind meteors crashed around them. Each impact widened the cracks beneath their feet, letting bursts of wind erupt through, cutting into their exposed skin.
“Waaah! Lumine, help me!”
Paimon, small and light, was nearly swept away by the violent winds. She clung desperately to Lumine’s clothes to avoid being blown into the storm.
Venti extended a hand, stabilizing the winds around Paimon, giving her a moment to recover. Still, his expression remained troubled.
The two poison clots had been removed, yet Dvalin showed no signs of improvement. The link between Venti and Dvalin continued to convey the dragon’s unbearable agony, the poison still coursing through its veins.
The Abyss Order’s curse lingered, its grip unyielding.
—
Far from the battlefield, a group of Abyss Mages watched the struggle unfold from a distance.
The removal of the poison clots had not escaped their notice.
“It’s pointless,” one Abyss Mage cackled. “The poison and curse have already fused with the Dragon of the East Wind’s body. If the Anemo Archon refuses to sever their bond, even Barbatos himself will be consumed by the curse.”
With a sharp, mocking laugh, it sneered, “Give up, Barbatos. You cannot save it.”
—
Jia Changjiang stood at the center of the platform, the storm’s force whipping at his frame. A single thought burned in his mind:
Do we end it? Or do we try to save it?
The decision loomed over him, stark and unyielding.
To kill the Dragon of the East Wind, putting an end to the century-long torment caused by the poison, was the easier path. With the combined strength of the group, it was a possibility—one that would prevent Dvalin from being fully transformed into a monster.
But to subdue the maddened dragon, bind it, and allow Lumine to attempt an uncertain purification? That was far more difficult.
Could the five of them manage such a feat against a dragon of godlike power?
No guarantees.
Jia Changjiang cleaved another wind meteor in half, letting the dispersed wind cut shallow wounds into his arms. His gaze turned toward Venti.
Even if Dvalin were to die today, Venti would likely accept it in silence, his sorrow woven into future songs to immortalize the tragedy.
It would become yet another melancholic ballad in the City of Freedom.
How infuriating.
The thought of such an ending filled Jia Changjiang with rage.
The axe in his hands swept outward, not to cut but to smash the wind projectiles outright. The explosions of Anemo energy left scratches and bruises, but the dull pain only fueled his growing frustration.
No. I can’t accept this. No one would truly want this ending!
If they were to fight, they would see it through to the end. No shortcuts. No compromises.
The resolve in his heart solidified. Turning his gaze briefly toward his companions, Jia Changjiang made his decision.
He loosened his grip on the axe, letting it fall from his hands and vanish into his system’s space.
With deliberate movements, he opened the system interface.
“Why did Mr. Jax stay on the platform?” Jean asked, her voice filled with concern. “And why did he put his weapon away?”
Lumine didn’t respond. She felt it—a surge of anger, hatred, and despair radiating from Jia Changjiang, eerily similar to the energy surrounding Dvalin.
—
A voice, guttural and haunting, whispered in Jia Changjiang’s ears.
“A body… worthy of wielding me.”
The tone was slow, rasping, and full of malice.
“Pick me up. Tear their bodies apart. Cut them. Shred them.”
“Take me into battle. Rip their flesh. Bathe in blood. Sever their limbs. Steal their hope. Crush their will to live!”
“I am annihilation. I am destruction. I am the end!”
“Listen… to the silence of extinction!”
[Warning: This special weapon is classified as extremely dangerous. Upon extraction, its will shall merge with yours within the granted permissions. Extract?]
The voice resonated deeply with Jia Changjiang. He now understood why he had drawn such a weapon in the first place.
The shared rage, the torment of betrayal, and the endless cycle of pain mirrored his own.
A massive sword materialized in Jia Changjiang’s hand, its size dwarfing his own body. The blade pulsed with a sinister vitality, an eye-like organ embedded in its hilt blinking grotesquely.
Blood-red tendrils of flesh snaked from the weapon, creeping up his arm as if to claim him entirely.
“Come, vessel!” the voice roared. “Let blood consecrate us in holy slaughter!”
“I am Aatrox, the World Ender!!!”
—
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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