Genshin Impact: Spoiling the Future

After fighting side by side for thousands of years, calling out each other’s names now felt strangely unfamiliar.

[Kun Jun: ”No, I still prefer calling you Morax.”]

[Zhongli smiled gently: ”As you wish.”]

[Kun Jun: ”I haven’t forgotten the act of granting eyes.”]

[”With your vision intact, you wouldn’t understand a blind dragon’s yearning for sunlight. But I will never forget how Morax bestowed eyes upon the Dragon King Azhdaha.”]

By now, Kun Jun’s strength was nearly exhausted, and he, too, was about to fade away.

[Zhongli: ”Shall we take a walk outside?”]

As they stepped out of the sealed domain, Old Dai was already waiting beneath the ancient tree, having taken charge of the unconscious miners.

Azhdaha had even entrusted ”himself” to Old Dai—after his consciousness faded, Kun Jun’s original self would fall into a deep slumber, so he had asked Old Dai in advance to take Kun Jun back to Liyue Harbor.

[Kun Jun: ”Kun Jun is a descendant of a master craftsman. Given time, he will surely become renowned far and wide. Such a person must not come to harm.”]

Kun Jun was a descendant of Kunwu, the creator of the Fillet series of weapons, making him truly the heir of a legendary artisan.

Azhdaha had always held a special fondness for craftsmen—those who shaped minerals into countless creations.

To him, this was a way for ores to coexist with humanity, a means to manifest their true value.

As for Kun Jun himself, he felt his blood boiling and his heart racing uncontrollably.

Azhdaha had acknowledged him! Declared that he would one day make a name for himself! He couldn’t possibly let the Dragon King down!

Originally, Kun Jun hadn’t known much about Azhdaha, but after witnessing the story unfold, he now understood the Dragon King’s extraordinary stature—this was the God of Contracts’ closest friend.

Moreover, as the sovereign of Geo, Azhdaha’s understanding of ores went without saying. His endorsement was nothing short of an authoritative seal of approval.

The contest Paimon had instigated had shifted from Zhongli vs. Kun Jun to Zhongli vs. Azhdaha, and it was truly hard to say who had won.

Both had reached the pinnacle of knowledge regarding ores—what one might call ”knowing a thing or two.”

In the story, Zhongli mentioned that he was no longer the Geo Archon. The next time Azhdaha awoke, it would be the people of Liyue who faced him.

The people of Liyue found this arrangement acceptable. To have their Archon repeatedly seal away his old friend, forced to confront his fury and accusations again and again—it would have been far too cruel.

The Archon had always shielded Liyue, and now, the people of Liyue longed to repay him in kind.

[Kun Jun: ”Can Liyue endure without Rex Lapis?”]

[Zhongli: ”If the age of gods must pass, then let this become a nation of humanity. As the god who once walked among them, it is only right that I bear witness to their rise and fall.”]

After Liyue passed his trial, Zhongli had faith that its people were capable of governing themselves. All he needed to do was watch over them.

But Azhdaha remained doubtful—could Liyue truly thrive without its Archon? He had no knowledge of the trials Zhongli had already put the nation through.

Yet, at their core, both of their concerns were rooted in their care for Liyue.

”So this is Morax’s perspective?” Nahida mused.

Truly befitting of Morax—his wisdom ran deep.

Meanwhile, Furina found herself lost in thought. I’ve played the role of an Archon for nearly five hundred years, yet no true god has exposed me. Does this mean Fontaine truly has no deity?

While the two young Archons pondered, the elderly Anemo Archon could only laugh carefreely.

”Hahaha, the old man’s finally let go. Took him long enough~,” Venti teased.

He had chosen the path of ”a nation without gods” far earlier than Zhongli—though, to put it bluntly, he’d stopped governing centuries ago.

In the book, Kun Jun and Zhongli discussed the concept of ”the curse of longevity,” a conversation between two long-lived beings that most readers struggled to grasp.

It had to be said—the two were remarkably alike, their speech styles equally cryptic yet profound.

To readers, it sounded like:

Zhongli: ”@#%@￥%!”

Kun Jun: ”@%@￥...%!”

Readers: ”Huh?”

Fortunately, after their philosophical exchange, the two finally moved on to topics everyone could understand.

[Kun Jun asked Zhongli: ”Back then in The Chasm… did you hesitate?”]

[Zhongli: ”Even stone may bear a heart—how could I not? But I was the God of Contracts, and once, the god of Liyue’s people.”]

This time, readers understood Zhongli’s words. He had hesitated. He had felt sorrow. Facing the resentful gaze of an old friend, he must have suffered deeply.

”Even stone may bear a heart.”

How much more so when, in his final moments, Azhdaha had willingly allowed himself to be sealed—proof that a sliver of reason still remained. How could Zhongli not have noticed?

To discover his closest friend still clinging to sanity, yet still being forced to seal him away—Zhongli must have wavered.

But he could not show hesitation. He could not falter.

Because he was a god.

The weight of Liyue—this towering ”mountain”—rested upon his shoulders.

And this burden was one he had willingly taken up. As the God of Contracts, once shouldered, it could not be lightly cast aside. For millennia, he had tended to this ”mountain.”

Now, at last, he could gently set it down and become simply a dweller within its embrace.

Zhongli was not alone in upholding this ”contract.” Azhdaha, too, had sought to bear this responsibility—even as his memories faded.

And so, even with only a wisp of consciousness left, he had stopped himself once more.

[Kun Jun sighed: ”As the God of Contracts’ closest friend, this is my final way of honoring our pact.”]

[Zhongli exhaled deeply: ”...Ah.”]

[Finally, he gazed at Azhdaha and spoke: ”Thank you, Azhdaha.”]

In this story, Zhongli sighed more times than in all previous tales combined.

No words were needed—each sigh spoke volumes of his emotions.

[Kun Jun: ”Morax, if fate allows, we shall meet again.”]

With those words, Kun Jun collapsed to the ground, fast asleep. The fragment of Azhdaha’s consciousness within him had dissipated.

Now, the Azhdaha sealed beneath the earth had lost two more fragments of himself. When he next awoke, he would forget all of this once more.

In this moment, Zhongli may have lost his dear friend yet again.

Zhongli softly recounted his tales with Azhdaha to the Traveler, hoping this witness would remember them.

The page turned, revealing an illustration—Iron Tongue Tian, holding a folding fan mid-performance.

The real Iron Tongue Tian was startled. ”I never expected to see my own illustration!”

What he didn’t know was that, among all the illustrations, his had the least enthusiastic reception.

Others’ illustrations were carefully collected and treasured—but his remained untouched in the book, ignored by all.

===✧✦✧===

Character Voiceline · Lucian: On ”Historia Antiqua Chapter, Act II”

”My memory is far too sharp. It seems I am destined to be the one who ’remembers’... Perhaps that’s for the best. To die after all my friends, sparing them the grief of mourning me.”