Facing the roaring Thunder Manifestation, Yilan couldn't help but sigh.
If possible, he really didn't want to fight.
On one hand, this battle would bring him no benefit; on the other, he had to admit he was outmatched by these two in raw power.
Now that he'd reached adulthood, his body had grown strong enough to wield Electro and Geo elements without a Vision.
But this body wasn't the system-enhanced one from reality.
If his true self were here—with all three elements unleashed—he might've stood a chance against the Skirmisher and the Fair Lady. But as things stood, he was out of options.
And unlike the previous two simulations, he couldn't burn his lifespan for strength.
This simulation was far from over.
If he died, the "mobs" he controlled would run rampant, and the chaos inflicted upon Inazuma might eclipse even the original timeline's calamity.
…Perhaps that was why the Fair Lady and the Skirmisher had come.
If they recruited him, all would be well. If not, killing him would destabilize the mobs and still serve their goals.
But he wasn't entirely cornered yet.
He drew the Yuebai blade and violent Electro energy erupted from his body—yet it differed starkly from the Skirmisher's.
The Skirmisher's Electro was untamed, warping the heavens and earth; Yilan's however, was controlled.
He focused every ounce of power into a single point, channeling it into the blade's azure edge. With a motion that seemed slow but split the air, he carved a mark before him.
Space itself tore open, yawning into a vast rift.
When the Thunder Manifestation crashed into the void, it vanished as if swallowed by another realm, leaving no ripple behind.
"How… is this possible?" The Skirmisher's eyes widened in disbelief.
"Surprised? I expected more composure." Yilan chuckled. "After all, cleaving space with a blade… is your 'mother's' signature trick."
The Skirmisher's violet pupils contracted. For the first time, her perpetually arrogant face faltered. "What is your relation to that woman?!" she snarled.
Yilan ignored him, musing aloud: "Though you might not know—Ei excels in martial arts, while Makoto delved deeper into esoteric arts: consciousness, space… Ah, forgive me."
His gaze turned pitying. "You wouldn't know. Those close to your 'mother' call her Raiden Ei—but the one you revere is truly her sister, the previous Electro Archon, Baal."
The implication was clear: He knew Raiden Ei intimately.
"Who are you?!"
Even the Fair Lady grew restless now. They'd come to deal with a merchant, yet somehow, they'd stumbled into a quagmire.
Her stance shifted imperceptibly.
Initially, the Skirmisher and Fair Lady held the advantage, forcing Yelan to tread carefully.
But after his revelation, he dominated the exchange. Fear flickered in their eyes.
This was no accident.
Once they saw themselves as the weaker party, their resolve would crumble under psychological pressure. A single display of overwhelming force, even momentary would shatter their morale.
And Yilan needed only that moment.
"Defeat me, and you'll learn my true identity."
As he spoke, the tri-colored glow of Hydro, Electro, and Geo surged around him. Gripping the Yuebai blade, he raised it skyward.
The three elements fused upon the blade—then, with a tremor in space, they coalesced into something primordial: a darkness deeper than the abyss, vaster than the cosmos.
The energy spiraled upward, piercing the heavens, churning the clouds and rending the sky itself.
"He can wield three elements simultaneously and fuse them?" The Fair Lady gaped. The Fatui harbored wielders of multiple elements, but none had ever combined them.
The "Heavenly Sword" in Yelan's grip radiated oppression, as if the very air had turned to sludge.
Yet he seemed at ease. Smiling at their strained faces, he said, "Though I never expected a 'defective product' to grow this strong. You've worked hard."
The Skirmisher's face twisted. "I am no one's puppet! My fate is mine alone!"
Her roar made the Fair Lady flinch—for she heard it: a thread of dread.
Even before the Tsaritsa, the Skirmisher wore arrogance like armor.
(Is it because of the Raiden Shogun?)
She knew of her… complicated feelings toward Inazuma's Electro Archon—and this man seemed entwined with her.
"Let us fight together, Sandrone," she urged.
"Out of my way!"
Madness glinted in her eyes as he spat at her: "This is beyond mortal interference. Leave, lest you become a burden!"
(Damn you, you suicidal fool!)
Had the Fair Lady been a modern-day isekai protagonist, she'd have cursed aloud. Instead, she withdrew silently.
She wasn't as unhinged as the Skirmisher. There was no irreconcilable feud between her and Yelan—no need to stake her life.
She'd observe. If the Skirmisher won, all well. If not, she'd retrieve her corpse.
Meanwhile, the Skirmisher gathered her power.
Electro energy crackled around her as the earth trembled. Metal debris and iron sand spiraled toward her, encasing her body in a titanic, oni-like exoskeleton.
The battlefield split in two: Yilan's sword sundered the sky, while the Skirmisher's domain churned with dust and debris—a scene fit for the apocalypse.
Civilians fled, mistaking it for divine wrath.
With a final roar, the Skirmisher—now a 10-meter-tall demonic warrior—brandished a jagged iron-sand katana and charged:
"*Come! I'll prove fate bends to me!!!"
"Then let us reenact the Archon War!" Yilan shouted back, his blade meeting the oni's strike. "But this time—you will fall!!"
CLASH—
Have you ever heard the world shatter?
Not mere shockwaves—this was the planet's scream, a sound beyond human hearing.
Where their blades met, reality peeled away like broken glass. The Fair Lady barely clung to the earth as the shockwave nearly hurled her into the sea.
When the dust settled, the battleground was gone—erased, leaving only a gaping crater.
At its heart, the Skirmisher lay coughing blood, Yilan's blade at her throat.
"..."
The Fair Lady wasn't surprised. The question was: What now?
She couldn't defeat the Skirmisher—and she'd lost. Fighting Yilan was suicide. Should she flee?
But… he must be exhausted. Could she snatch the Skirmisher and run?
As she hesitated, Yilan sheathed his blade.
"Take her," he said.
"…What?"
He sighed. "She's the legacy of an old friend. There's… kinship between us. No need for extremes."
The Skirmisher stared, speechless. One thought consumed her:
He spoke of kinship… of knowing 'Mother' Ei…
*…Is he my father?!?
(Yilan, of course, remained oblivious to this delusion.)
The Fair Lady, too, was baffled—but the intel gap warped their judgment.
As she hauled the Skirmisher away, Yilan finally doubled over, coughing blood into his palms.
This body's stats—barely half his real self's—had been pushed past their limits. Forcing elemental fusion had ravaged him.
But I didn't damage my lifeforce this time. The simulation continues.
Wiping his mouth, he staggered from the ruined shore.