Jia Changjiang made the first move.
Gripping the massive warhammer he had taken, he charged toward the Fatui Vanguard. Though lacking elemental power, Jia Changjiang swung the hammer single-handedly, its sheer weight smashing into the ground as he rushed forward.
The Fatui Vanguard, while not as individually powerful as the Debt Collectors or the Cicin Mages, had the advantage of coordinated teamwork. Utilizing elemental resonance and their Delusions, they were able to form defensive barriers and launch synchronized attacks.
Still, Jia Changjiang didn’t falter.
“Is this all you’ve got?” he sneered, undeterred by the overwhelming numbers. His gaze darted briefly to La Signora, a mocking smirk on his face.
“You’re just as insufferably cocky as that bard,” La Signora replied icily. With Hydro infused into the air by her Fatui Vanguard reinforcements, she could freeze the entire battlefield into a glacial wasteland with just a thought.
“My fists are just as tough as my mouth!” Jia Changjiang shot back, slamming the hammer into the helmet of an advancing Vanguard soldier, knocking him unconscious. “Didn’t enjoy that slap earlier? Want another?”
“I’ll grant your wish!”
Jia Changjiang leapt high into the air, his movements startlingly agile despite his size. Like a predator closing in on its prey, he launched himself toward La Signora.
But her icy composure didn’t falter. With a wave of her hand, a massive icicle erupted from the ground, aiming to trap Jia Changjiang midair.
Quickly abandoning the warhammer, Jia Changjiang twisted his body backward, narrowly avoiding being encased in ice. The hammer clattered to the ground, forgotten.
“You’re facing the Fatui!” La Signora snapped, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and frustration. Sharp icicles rained down from above, aiming to skewer Jia Changjiang where he stood.
La Signora’s patience was wearing thin. His relentless provocations had pushed her to the edge—she intended to end him swiftly and recover the Gnosis.
Yet what happened next defied all logic.
Jia Changjiang gripped the base of the massive icicle she had conjured, yanking it from the ground with brute strength. With an almost playful swing, he used it like a bat, smashing the falling icicles into shards. Some of the deflected shards even hurtled back toward La Signora, only to be blocked by a hastily conjured ice wall.
Without hesitation, Jia Changjiang hurled the icicle behind him, striking a Fatui Electrohammer Vanguard attempting a sneak attack. He used the opening to vault over La Signora’s barrier, closing the distance between them.
The Fatui soldiers scrambled to intercept him, but Jia Changjiang’s unpredictable speed and erratic movement made him nearly impossible to pin down. One by one, soldiers fell to the makeshift weapons he conjured from his system space.
La Signora, now on the defensive, continued to retreat as she launched attacks from her floating artifact. Despite her attempts to maintain composure, she felt a flicker of unease.
How was this man—bereft of elemental powers—able to keep pressuring her? And why had his fighting style become even more erratic and effective since abandoning the battleaxe?
“You’re insane!” she spat, her voice edged with frustration. “You’re just like Childe—a battle-crazed lunatic!”
La Signora’s frustration grew. The power bestowed upon her by the Cryo Archon wasn’t meant for close-quarters combat. Yet this mortal was forcing her into an increasingly desperate position.
She possessed the strength to annihilate him outright, yet his relentless assault left her unable to focus her elemental energy for a decisive strike.
Jia Changjiang didn’t dodge every attack, but he avoided those that posed a significant threat. Minor wounds bled freely, while others froze over, preventing further blood loss.
“Madman! You and Tartaglia are both reckless fools who live for combat!” La Signora snarled, gritting her teeth.
She never expected that the man wielding a giant axe moments ago could shift to a nimble, close-combat style that exploited her weaknesses so effectively. It was humiliating.
As she retreated, spiked shards of ice erupted from both the ground and the sky, converging to crush Jia Changjiang. But the assault was futile.
Jia Changjiang grabbed one of the falling spikes and swung it down with raw force, shattering the ice into fragments along with the icy surface beneath his feet.
“Where do you think you’re going?!”
Jia Changjiang pursued La Signora relentlessly, weaving through her attacks with unyielding determination. He gave her no opportunity to regroup, refusing to let her escape his grasp.
He knew his limitations all too well.
Since arriving in this world, his strength had been dwarfed by those at the pinnacle of power. Against Dvalin, he had relied on the borrowed strength of Aatrox. But his personal abilities were still a far cry from those who commanded the elements with ease.
If he wanted to win, he had to exploit every advantage. Overwhelm his opponents by breaking their rhythm. Seize the initiative and never let go.
It was a strategy he had honed in every encounter so far:
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Against Diluc, he used relentless aggression to disrupt the Darknight Hero’s tempo.
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Against Jean, he manipulated the flow of battle to pull her into his own pace.
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Against Dvalin, he leveraged the dragon’s massive size to avoid its most dangerous attacks.
And he always emerged more injured than his opponents.
But Jia Changjiang didn’t care about the pain. Victory’s intoxicating euphoria outweighed any injury he might suffer along the way.
What’s a few wounds compared to the thrill of triumph?
He would rather escape the monotony of his previous life and fight in this world of gods and elements.
Weapons were tools created by the weak. Beings like Dvalin had no need for such things. But as a mortal, Jia Changjiang embraced his humanity—exploiting every tool, every advantage, to bridge the gap.
Perhaps it was odd for someone unable to wield the elements to crave victory so desperately in a world defined by them.
But it was precisely that desire that made Jia Changjiang feel alive.
“More! Give me more!!”
Jia Changjiang’s movements became even lighter, his pace quickening as he bore down on La Signora, despite the wounds accumulating on his body.
“Show me the strength of a god!” he roared, his hand reaching out toward her with a look of fiery determination.
“Let me see… what true power looks like!”
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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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