WebNovels

Chapter 2 - Chapter 2 Ryazan Velariovich.

My name… is Ryazan Velariovich.

And this world—Teyvat—was never supposed to be real.

I arrived here years ago. Not reborn, not summoned, not yanked through some glowing portal after dying heroically or pathetically. No, my transition was... compliant. Silent. Like a program rewriting itself. One moment, I was me. The next, I was here.

More specifically, I arrived in Snezhnaya—the land of winter, politics, and quiet war. The land of the Tsaritsa, the so-called Cryo Archon, who wears grief like a crown and builds a nation on the back of mourning.

When I first set foot in this world, I experienced two conflicting sensations at once:

Joy—pure, unfiltered joy. The joy of discovery. Of standing in a world I once only knew from a screen. The wind carried magic. The snow had weight. The cold didn't just freeze—it judged. This wasn't some dream. This wasn't a game. This was life. Alive and raw and terrifying in its beauty.

But alongside that joy came dread.

No… not dread of the war to come. Not fear of the gods, the Abyss, or Celestia's wrath. Not even despair at the knowledge of Teyvat's history and inevitable collapse.

No.

What I dreaded was far worse—the System.

That damned narrative crutch, that ever-present cancer in stories where self-insert protagonists are spoon-fed strength from glowing blue boxes, gacha rolls, and template downloads. I've read enough of them. Too many.

You know the kind:

"Congratulations! You've received [SSS-Rank Harem God Template]!"

"Ding! You now possess the power of Gojo, Madara, and Batman combined!"

It makes my skin crawl.

The System isn't power. It's parasitic wish-fulfillment. A shortcut for cowards who don't want to bleed for their strength. An excuse for poorly written protagonists to become gods while drooling over a harem of cardboard waifus. Disgusting.

Worse, they're always tied to harems. Always.

Girls who fall in love for no reason. Drama without substance. Sex without weight. Love without pain.

Cringe.

Out of the sea of system-based stories I endured, only a few ever earned my respect—Solo Leveling for its grit, Arcane Thief for its ingenuity in the Harry Potter world, TAPOV, etc. The rest? Trash masquerading as power fantasy.

So when I realized something had given me powers, I feared the worst.

But… I was lucky.

I wasn't given a system.

No "ding."

No panel.

No menus.

No roulette wheel of cringe.

Instead, I was… gifted—if that's the right word—with three abilities. Three powers. No interface. No explanation. Just instinctual knowledge, etched into my soul like an ancient curse.

And unlike the Systems I loathe… these abilities don't carry me.

I carry them.

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⚫ [Holy Darkness]

A paradox. A contradiction.

The sacred void that binds the divine and the damned.

It is not simple shadow manipulation. It is not abyssal mimicry. It is Darkness made sacred—a paradox that embodies both death and healing, vengeance and mercy.

My body channels this darkness in physical form: slashes of black flame, serrated constructs, jagged tendrils that lash and tear. It isn't governed by elemental reaction charts or alchemical logic—it is bound only to one thing: my will.

The stronger my resolve—my mental strength—the stronger the output.

But that's not the true marvel.

Holy Darkness heals me.

Wounds that would rupture organs, shatter bones, or tear flesh regenerate in seconds. Burn marks fade. Arterial spray is retracted. My flesh reforms even mid-combat.

Some mistake it for immortality.

It's not.

It's simply superior regeneration wrapped in divinity.

To kill me, you don't need more power.

You need to make me doubt myself.

Good luck.

🔺 [Acquisition of Resistance]

The most terrifying of the three.

This power lets me acquire resistance to anything—pain, heat, poison, curses, divine judgment—as long as I survive it. The more I endure, the more my body adapts. A broken rib becomes a shrug. Acid breath becomes a nuisance. Divine smiting becomes a bad migraine.

So I abused it.

Every day.

Torture chambers made of my own making. Iron maidens carved from ice. Pyres I lit myself. I drank poison while stabbing myself in the gut—again and again—until the venom tasted like wine and the wounds barely registered.

I turned my own pain into a science.

And I survived.

Every.

Single.

Time.

Why? Because of Holy Darkness.

Its regenerative power let me push further than any mortal ever could. It healed what I broke. And when it couldn't keep up, I adapted.

Do you understand now?

I turned torture into training.

I turned pain into a tool.

💪 [Supreme Muscular Constitution]

And lastly, the physical aspect of my godless trinity.

The final piece.

Not flash. Not glamour. Not some overpowered skill that bends space or summons meteors.

No.

A body that simply won't break.

Every cell, every tendon, every fiber of my being was refined beyond peak human limit the moment I received this. Then it kept growing—fueled by Holy Darkness and Acquisition of Resistance.

Strength? Enough to split a ruin guard in half with a kick.

Speed? Enough to step through air and leave afterimages behind.

Endurance? I don't even notice fatigue anymore.

I am not a monster. I am not a god.

I am simply… refined beyond reason.

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"For fuck's sake!" I snarled, grinding my teeth in annoyance.

The enormous dragon loomed over me, wings outstretched like a stormcloud eclipsing the sun. Stormterror Dvalin, in all his corrupted glory, glared down at me with those reptilian, hate-filled eyes glowing with a sickly green light.

"I'm going to Mondstadt," I growled, voice low, dangerous. "So I strongly suggest you get the fuck out of my way."

Dvalin let loose an ear-shattering roar, his wings kicking up cyclones that flattened trees around us. The very air trembled with his rage. With a sudden beat of his wings, he lunged—jaws wide, fangs gleaming, ready to snap me in two.

I moved, darting sideways in a blur just before his teeth slammed into the earth where I stood. The ground cracked, debris flying from the impact.

"Last chance, monkey," I warned coldly, my fingers brushing the hilt of my blade.

He didn't listen.

Dvalin roared again and swiped at me with his massive claws.

Click.

The sound of my sword leaving its scabbard echoed like a gunshot through the forest.

[DARK ROAR!]

With a single, vertical stroke, I unleashed a wave of pure, compressed Darkness. The black energy roared like a beast, tearing through the air and slashing across Dvalin's snout. The impact made the corrupted dragon scream in agony, staggering back, smoke trailing from his scorched scales.

I calmly sheathed my sword.

The air was thick with tension and smoke. I turned lazily to glance toward the direction of Mondstadt, the white spires barely visible through the dense forest miles away.

A mistake.

BOOM!

A claw the size of a carriage crashed into me, slamming my body into the earth. I was driven several feet into the cracked terrain, dust and rocks exploding outward from the impact.

Pain surged through my chest, but it only made the grin on my bloodied face wider.

"So that's how you want to play it?" I muttered, blood running down my temple as I cracked my neck. "Fine. Let's play."

A torrent of Darkness erupted from my body, coiling around me like a living storm. The ground trembled beneath me as I planted both palms against the claws pinning me down. With a guttural growl, I pushed upward—

CRACK!

Dvalin was lifted and thrown, his massive body twisting in the air before he crashed into the trees with enough force to shatter a hill. The forest screamed in protest, trees toppling and birds scattering into the skies.

I stood up, my muscles pulsing with raw power, skin veined with shadows.

I reached for my sword—only to find it snapped in half.

"Tch. Cheap garbage," I spat.

Raising my hand, I concentrated, Darkness coalescing around my palm, folding in on itself until a new weapon formed—a sleek, pitch-black blade, jagged like broken obsidian yet weightless in my hand.

I raised it, pointing at the recovering Dvalin.

"Let's see how this feels."

I slashed downward.

[DARK ROAR!]

Another massive wave of Darkness, even larger than the first, exploded forward. It tore up the earth, obliterated the trees in its path, and slammed into Dvalin's chest. The force sent him skidding across the ground, gouging a deep trench in his wake.

But he wasn't down yet.

With an enraged bellow that sent shockwaves rippling through the air, Dvalin ascended skyward, his massive wings igniting with a radiant surge of emerald Anemo energy. Each flap churned the skies, warping clouds into spiraling vortexes.

"You've really pissed him off now," I muttered, the grin on my bloodied face widening.

High above, Dvalin's mouth glowed with pulsing green energy. In the span of a heartbeat, the heavens split.

A concentrated burst of Anemo energy erupted from his maw, distorting the sky itself. Wind gathered violently, manifesting into a colossal hurricane that spiraled downward like a divine spear aimed straight at me. The forest howled in agony as air pressure plummeted. Razor-sharp wind blades spiraled in every direction, slicing through trees like butter. The ground itself was being peeled open by the raw force of the gale.

But I didn't move.

I simply raised my sword.

"Let's cut this shit in half…"

[VOID HORIZON]

With a smooth, controlled motion, I swung my blade horizontally. A wave of pitch-black energy howled out from the tip, a compressed, planar slash that carved through space itself.

The Dark energy met the descending hurricane—and split it.

BOOM!

A shockwave detonated across the battlefield as the two forces collided. The horizontal black slash cleaved through the green spiral of wind, dissipating its core and sending fractured winds spiraling off harmlessly in either direction. Above, Dvalin's wings faltered for a brief moment, clearly stunned by the counterattack.

I vanished from sight.

The forest floor cracked beneath where I once stood as I launched myself upward with explosive force, a pillar of darkness erupting behind me.

I met Dvalin mid-air.

"Let me show you something real."

Darkness wrapped around me like a mantle, flowing into my blade with feverish intensity. It pulsed with purpose—my will made form.

I extended my sword, the tip pointed straight at Dvalin's chest.

Then I thrust.

[BLACK SPEAR]

A compressed javelin of Darkness screamed forward from the tip of my sword, slicing through the air with a sound like ripping steel. A drill of void and malice, it streaked toward Dvalin like death incarnate.

The dragon twisted violently mid-air, wings flaring. With a sudden burst of Anemo, he blasted himself sideways, narrowly dodging the impaling strike.

But I wasn't fast enough to react to what came next.

Dvalin, ever the predator, seized the moment.

With a thunderous roar, he lunged—his massive clawed hand snatching me out of the sky like a hawk catching a rodent. The wind was knocked out of me as he gripped tight and slammed me into the earth like a living meteor.

CRACK!

I crashed through the treeline, then into the ground, carving a bloody trench through soil and stone. Dust exploded around me in a wall of force.

But Dvalin wasn't finished.

Still gripping my body in his claws, he pushed, dragging me through the earth like a plow. Trees were uprooted. Boulders shattered. My back scorched and burned from the friction. Blood filled my mouth.

But I laughed.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

I howled with manic delight, blood splattering from my lips as darkness surged outward from my skin in chaotic waves.

"ROAAARRRGGHHH!!"

My body exploded in a burst of condensed black energy. It coated me like armor, forming shadow-spikes along my shoulders and arms. My power surged with violent hunger.

"You're stronger than I expected," I growled through clenched teeth. "But you're not stronger than me."

I gripped the claw that held me with both hands—and pushed.

More darkness surged out—pure, liquid malice that spread like wildfire across Dvalin's claw. It slithered into every crevice, coiling and writhing, then hardened.

Black razors formed along the shadows, growing into jagged blades that began shredding through his corrupted scales.

SHHHHHHRRRRIP!

Dvalin roared in agony as the blades sank deep, ripping into his hide. His grip faltered. I twisted, using the opportunity to leap free into the air. Mid-spin, I summoned my sword again, formed entirely from the void—its edge jagged, unnatural, glowing with the hatred of everything I had endured.

And then I saw it.

The world narrowed to a single point.

The corrupted shard embedded in Dvalin's flesh throbbed like a malignant heart, beating in rhythm with the dragon's ragged breaths. My grip on the void-forged blade tightened, the jagged obsidian edges vibrating with suppressed violence, eager to carve.

"Time to cut this cancer out."

I launched myself upward, body twisting through the gale of his beating wings. Dvalin's eye—sickly green, clouded by torment—rolled sluggishly to track me, but too late. The blade in my hands howled as I raised it high.

And then I brought it down.

[VOID HORIZON]

The slash didn't just cut—it devoured. A crescent of compressed darkness carved into the crystalline tumor, ripping it from its roots with a shriek that seemed to split the air itself. For a heartbeat, the world drowned in searing light: corruption fissuring, breaking, then bursting in shards that fell like dying stars.

Dvalin screamed.

Not a roar of fury—one of agony, centuries of suffering torn out of him in a single moment. His massive body thrashed against the sky, wings convulsing as power erupted outward.

And me?

The backlash hit like the fury of a thousand storms. A shockwave of raw Anemo burst from the wound as the crystal died, engulfing me completely. My armor of shadows shredded like paper. My body was hurled through the air, slammed against scales hard as stone, then flung further still. When I struck the ground, the world detonated.

BOOOOOM!

The earth split. Dvalin's colossal form crashed a breath later, his body plowing a scar through the forest. Trees snapped like brittle twigs, the soil cratered, and a storm of debris buried us both.

For long moments, there was only silence.

I lay sprawled on shattered stone, chest heaving, lungs aflame. My blade had dissolved; the void's edge was gone, leaving nothing but bleeding, trembling hands. I tried to rise, but my muscles screamed mutiny. The regeneration that normally stitched me together crawled sluggishly, weakened, burned out from the sheer scale of what I had unleashed.

"…Damn…" My voice rasped, no louder than a whisper. "That… took more than I thought…"

Beside me, the dragon stirred. Dvalin's great chest rose and fell in labored heaves, dust billowing from his lungs. His talons clawed weakly at the earth, carving trenches as he struggled to move but couldn't. His once-majestic wings lay broken and heavy, draped across the ruin like tattered banners.

Our gazes met—me, broken and bleeding; him, ancient and exhausted. No words. Just two beings who had fought until there was nothing left to give.

"…Heh…" A breath escaped me, cracked and half a laugh. "We're both… wrecks, huh?"

Above, the sky bore our scars. Clouds torn apart, sunlight leaking through in fractured rays. Ash-like fragments of corruption still drifted in the air, burning away before they could touch the ground.

It was over. For now.

My arm dropped uselessly to the soil. The last vestiges of strength ebbed from my body, leaving only pain and emptiness. Beside me, Dvalin let out a low, guttural groan—not anger, not defiance. Just fatigue.

Two survivors lying broken in a crater, breathing the same ragged air.

"…Don't… think this means I saved you…" I muttered, words trembling, my throat raw. "…I just… hate crystals…"

No answer came, only the dragon's rasping breath echoing mine.

And there, in the ruins of our battle, the silence finally settled—heavy, fragile, absolute.

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