"Just a test subject, just a test subject! How dare you challenge me—me, your creator!"
With Dottore's furious roar, the sixth, blood-soaked eye on the roulette wheel behind him suddenly snapped open!
At the same time, two thick black tendrils—like monstrous nooses—shot upward, entangling the God of Righteousness in midair.
Just as Yilan had predicted: the Scarlet King and the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata had once resisted the corrosion of forbidden knowledge for a time.
And Dottore—who possessed a body forged with the power of multiple Archons—should likewise be able to endure it briefly.
But his red, glowing eyes betrayed the truth: he had already descended into madness.
[Alert: Incoming attack detected.]
"Hmph. No need to remind me."
The God of Righteousness, now co-piloted by Yilan and Scaramouche, drew a long, violet blade from the void. Lightning crackled along its edge. With one decisive swing, it slashed toward the black tendrils as if hacking through overgrown vines!
Just moments ago, Scaramouche had fought Dottore alone with all his strength—and been thoroughly overpowered.
But this time—
Boom!
A deafening thunderclap split the air. The blade tore a dark line through the sky—space itself seemed to shear—and the two black tendrils were severed instantly.
"Impossible—!"
Dottore staggered. He had forcibly activated his sixth evil eye, entering a state of existential overdrive.
In this form, he should have been more than a match for any mortal—possibly even able to contend with higher-ranking gods of the human realm.
Against a new god like Scaramouche, freshly empowered by the will of a demon god, he should have crushed him.
"Hmph. So your mind is already compromised by forbidden knowledge. Have you lost the ability to think clearly?"
The God of Righteousness raised its crackling purple blade again, divine voices overlapping—Yilan's cool certainty and Scaramouche's sharp disdain.
"Your brain has been overtaken. You can no longer calculate calmly, like before. In other words—"
"I gained wisdom and ascended to godhood in spirit. But you—"
"You lost your wisdom. Spiritually, you're now inferior to even a common devotee."
"Without computational clarity, you're just a lunatic swinging around a divine weapon. Your attacks are sloppy—your strikes feeble!"
Yilan & Scaramouche (in unison): "You're as weak as a maggot now!"
"Damn you!"
With a roar, Dottore unleashed his full power—but not at the God of Righteousness.
He struck the formation beneath him with everything he had.
But even that left only faint ripples.
This was the Divine Power Confusion formation—constructed using the energy of his own evil eye and forbidden knowledge.
Because the evil eye's origin matched his own power, the formation resisted his force inherently.
And forbidden knowledge, being superior in tier, rejected his interference entirely.
There was no way to break it by brute force—not in a short time.
"Die!"
Yilan and Scaramouche pushed forward, controlling the God of Righteousness as it soared toward Dottore.
Desperate, Dottore launched fire dragons, summoned thunder qilins, unleashed ice storms and raised stone pillars to slow them down.
But the synergy between Yilan and Scaramouche was now flawless—Yilan dodged, Scaramouche struck.
There was no opening to exploit.
Boom!
The sword came down. Dottore barely evaded it—but the shockwave tossed him through the air like refuse. He rolled across the sand, limbs flailing, and came to a painful stop.
"Tsk. Dottore, look at you now. You look like a mangy dog."
Yilan's voice rang out, but even he admitted to himself that this insult wasn't really his style.
He silently cursed his partner.
[Are you an idiot? You almost slashed the formation! What if Dottore can't break it, but you do?!]
[Finish him off properly. If something goes wrong now, we're screwed.]
If Yilan were a villain, he'd be the calculating type—the one who stabs the hero twice to be sure.
"Tch, you're so annoying."
Scaramouche, by contrast, was the classic villain—the kind who gloats too long after getting power, only to get stabbed in the back.
He had wanted to draw this out, to play with Dottore like a cat does with a dying mouse.
But Yilan's scolding made him get serious.
He swung the long sword again—this time decisively.
Dottore, still reeling on the ground, couldn't dodge in time. He dragged the roulette wheel in front of him to shield himself—
—but it was cleaved in two like paper.
Then the God of Righteousness raised one hand. A wind vortex surged, catching Dottore in a cyclone.
Before he could escape, the mechanical hand closed around him.
"——!"
Dottore struggled with all his might. But it was over.
The reason the Scarlet King and the Great Lord Rukkhadevata could retain their minds after being tainted by forbidden knowledge…
was because they used their own inner strength to hold the madness at bay.
But in this Divine Power Confusion formation, forbidden knowledge and evil eye energy were fused.
If Dottore used his evil eye's power, he'd deepen the corruption.
If he resisted, he'd die defenseless.
A perfect trap.
A fatal paradox.
Scaramouche opened the faceplate of the God of Righteousness. His eyes burned with hatred as he glared down at the man who had caused him so much suffering.
"Go to hell—and confess to every innocent life you destroyed, Dottore!"
"Hahahaha—Scaramouche!"
"What gives you the right to be so proud? You didn't defeat me—not really. You're still nothing but a puppet—"
Smash!
Scaramouche crushed him into pulp with the machine's hand. Lightning erupted from the palm, vaporizing what remained.
Nothing was left.
Only silence.
Once Yilan confirmed that no trace of Dottore's body remained, he severed the soul-link with Scaramouche and returned to his own body.
Without their shared control and Nahida's support, the God of Righteousness reverted to its dormant form.
"Whew…"
Yilan exhaled deeply.
The greatest threat had finally been eliminated.
The rest would be much easier.
He glanced at Nahida, then at Scaramouche.
"Next, I'll need you to cooperate with Nahida on one last act."
"Hmph. If you ask me, it'd be better to imprison her and make you the ruler of this country."
Scaramouche, in this simulation, hadn't been beaten down like in the canon timeline. After defeating Dottore, he was getting cocky.
"This is part of our agreement."
But when Yilan shot him a glare, he backed down.
"Tch… fine. I'll go to the World Tree and wait for you. Get it done quickly. The World Tree is still corrupted—I can't linger there long."
"Could you maybe deal with the pollution first before heading off to do your business?"
"Just do as I said."
Nahida had wanted to tell him: she preserved the last memory of the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata—maybe through it, they could find a way to purify the World Tree.
But after hearing Yilan's tone, she decided not to press the issue.
He was, by all accounts, the weakest and lowest-ranking of the group…
And yet—he was the one in command.
Scaramouche and Nahida both followed his lead.
In truth, Yilan was still anxious.
If the system judged that Nahida had reclaimed supreme authority over Sumeru, his simulation would end.
He had to act quickly—to finish his deal with Scaramouche before that happened.
***
Yilan resolved the complex structure of the Divine Power Confusion Formation, and afterward, Scaramouche and Nahida began to act out the script he had arranged in advance.
He saw Scaramouche piloting the God of Righteousness mech into the sky, laughing maniacally:
"Hmph! Foolish sages—you actually believed you could control me, a god? Now pay the price for your pathetic arrogance!"
His voice, amplified by the God of Righteousness, echoed like thunder across the sky above all of Sumeru City.
Countless residents, already fast asleep, were jolted awake. They rushed outside and looked up in horror at the massive, menacing mech floating above them, its silhouette like that of a malevolent god.
The fearsome design of the God of Righteousness, combined with Scaramouche's naturally sharp and sinister voice, made him appear utterly villainous—without needing to act. Just standing motionless in the sky, he looked like a final boss summoned from a nightmare.
Of course, he didn't remain still. He rained down fiery walls and chilling ice storms upon the residences of the Sages.
The attacks looked dramatic, but their power was carefully restrained. Still, to the average citizen, they were terrifying enough.
The city's 30-man guard unit rushed in but was instantly overwhelmed.
Even the most powerful warrior of the Akademiya, General Mahamatra Cyno, was defeated in only three strikes and sent crashing to the ground.
"Hahahaha! This godless nation—so powerless, so pitiful! Your resistance is as laughable as an insect squirming before its death!"
"Foolish sages—this is the price of your treachery!"
The God of Righteousness raised its arms high. Between its hands, a massive sphere of purple energy—like a thunderous Spirit Bomb—began to form. Then, with forceful finality, it hurled the sphere downward to obliterate everything in its path.
"He said… all of this was caused by the sages?"
"A godless nation? But… don't we have a god?"
"Isn't our god the Little Lucky Grass King…?"
"Lord Lesser Lord Kusanali, please—save us!"
The ominous purple glow lit up the sky, plunging Sumeru City into chaos. Above them, the terrifying mech and the villain piloting it were etched into the minds of the people like the stuff of nightmares.
Some began to despair. Others fell to their knees in prayer, or clasped their hands together, begging the heavens.
At that very moment, a petite figure appeared above the crowd. With a gentle motion, she spread her arms and summoned a massive Dendro barrier to intercept the falling thunder orb.
Lightning and Dendro clashed with an agonizing, crackling screech. Then, the two forces exploded into a roaring blaze of fire high above the city.
The people of Sumeru looked up—and saw a small girl floating in the sky.
Though her body was tiny, she radiated immense Dendro energy. Her emerald-green eyes shimmered with deep wisdom.
"Tsk. Sumeru's 'Little Lucky Grass King,' huh? I didn't expect you to break free from your cage," Scaramouche sneered, keeping to the script. "But what can you do now, after being imprisoned by the sages for so long?"
"No matter what, I will never allow you to harm the people of Sumeru City!"
To the people below, the Lesser Lord Kusanali—their tiny Archon—flew fearlessly toward the colossal, monstrous mech.
The battle between them was spectacular. Explosions burst across the sky, lighting up the night with dazzling elemental energy. Their clash shook the heavens.
"It's Lord Kusanali! Our god has come to protect us!"
"So she was watching over us all along…"
"Did the demon say… the sages imprisoned her all these years?"
"…"
From a distance, Yilan observed quietly.
"These two's acting is actually pretty solid."
He nodded slightly.
Although their fight looked intense, every strike was carefully choreographed—grand in scale, but weak in power. It was all for show.
From the murmuring crowd, Yilan knew his plan had succeeded: the people of Sumeru now recognized their true god.
Perhaps a few sharp minds would notice something off—but once they experienced Nahida's genuine compassion and wisdom, they would surely accept her.
With no pressing danger in the real world, Yilan activated a Seed of Consciousness gifted to him by Nahida and projected himself to the World Tree.
Standing before the luminous trunk, glowing with ethereal light, he understood:
The simulation had reached its end.
But Yilan wasn't saddened by this. Instead, a sense of quiet pride bloomed in his heart.
After all, this time, he had truly triumphed—a mortal defeating a divine fragment of the Fatui Doctor.
In fact, even if he had lost to Dottore, he had prepared a contingency: he would have threatened to destroy the Gnoses to force a retreat—just like in the real story.
Sure, it would be like letting the tiger return to the mountain, but as long as he manipulated things properly afterward, he could still complete this scenario.
In short: win or lose, he would always win.
And that was the brilliance of his strategy.
Just then, a spatial ripple shimmered—and Scaramouche appeared beside him.
"All finished over there?" Yilan asked.
"It's done," Scaramouche grumbled. "That little brat obviously isn't a match for me, yet she made me lose on purpose. It's infuriating!"
Ignoring his usual foul mouth, Yilan chuckled and said, "Since you're finished, let's begin the final step."
"You should now have access to the World Tree's system permissions. Help me locate the spatial anchor point where Niwa died."
They had made a deal: Yilan would help Scaramouche kill the Doctor, and Scaramouche would help Yilan find Niwa. It was the moment they'd both waited for.
Yet when the time finally came—
"…"
Scaramouche walked toward the World Tree with an oddly hesitant gait, utterly out of character.
Perhaps it was the relief of killing Dottore… or the realization that even if he saved Niwa, it wouldn't change anything… or maybe it was something else entirely.
But he suddenly didn't want to follow through.
Bang!
Yilan slapped him hard on the back.
Caught off guard, Scaramouche stumbled, then spun around and glared at him.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"A promise is a promise. Don't make me out to be someone who goes back on his word," Yilan said firmly, eyes locked on his. He then patted his shoulder. "Don't worry—I won't die. I bet it won't be long before we meet again."
"Tsk. Like I care whether you live or die."
But his actions betrayed him. Scaramouche moved quickly now and soon found the anchor point marking Niwa's death.
Yilan stared at it in silence. Then, with a sudden motion, he shaped his fingers like claws—and tore his own heart from his chest.
Thanks to his extensive body modifications, even a wound like this wasn't fatal.
Yet, to his surprise, the heart he pulled out wasn't bloody or grotesque—it was perfectly translucent, like a glass sculpture.
"May I attain Bodhi in the next life, and may my heart be as pure as glass…"
Was this the world's answer? Or perhaps… the God of Wisdom recognizing him?
Yilan smiled and tossed the heart to Scaramouche.
"Here. It's yours."
With his current strength, Scaramouche could have caught it easily.
But as it flew toward him, his expression panicked. He fumbled like it was burning hot, catching it clumsily before glaring at Yilan.
"What's the meaning of this?! Put it back before you drop dead!"
Yilan shrugged. "Haven't you lived without a heart for years already?"
"Ugh… Don't think I'm going to die for you or something! I'm not that noble!"
Seeing Scaramouche's face flush—whether from anger or embarrassment—Yilan stopped teasing him.
Instead, he said gently:
"In my world, there's a country very much like Sumeru. And in its teachings, there's a verse that goes:
'May I attain Bodhi in my next life, and may my heart be like glass.'
"It means, may I gain great wisdom, and may my mind remain clear and pure."
"Now I give this verse—and this heart—to you. Whether you choose the original Electro Archon's Heart, or this Glazed Heart… it's up to you."
Yilan wasn't one to linger sentimentally. After speaking, he turned and leapt into the spatial anchor.
Yet just as he entered—his simulation suddenly ended.
Likely because the people of Sumeru had finally acknowledged Nahida as their rightful Archon.
But—
Just as he was about to leave the simulation completely, hovering on the edge of that twilight boundary between dream and awakening…
A soft, childlike voice—kind, innocent, and curious—echoed in his ears.
"Are you… my Dad?"
***
Will update later 🫡