Genshin Impact: I Am a Slime

Pantalone's fingertips still carried the cool touch of the amber earring. He immediately fulfilled the contract, raising his voice towards the chaotic deck, trying to stop the out-of-control fighting.

"Enough! Put down your weapons, end the fight..."

"boom!"

"Crash!!!"

Another explosion, seemingly coming right up to the shore, tore the ship apart. Icy, bone-chilling seawater, carrying splinters of wood and gunpowder smoke, surged in through the breach like an enraged beast.

The Yermak emitted a chilling sound as its keel snapped, and the ship began to list and sink at a visible speed.

The soldiers of the Fools were already consumed by fear and chaos, their wails and desperate cries drowning out all commands.

Pantalone's voice vanished instantly, like a stone thrown into a raging torrent, and the soldiers who tried to carry out the order were immediately swept away by the fleeing crowd.

Pantalone looked at the completely out-of-control scene of purgatory, and the smug smile on his face finally froze, then turned into a barely perceptible anger and a deeper helplessness.

He turned to Zhongli, elegantly spreading his hands in a gesture of utter helplessness that was ironically perfect at the moment, his voice drowned out by the deafening crash of the ship collapsing.

"As you can see, Mr. Zhongli..."

"The situation seems to be out of my control right now."

Pantalone's eyes seemed to say, "The deal is done, but no refunds or exchanges for unforeseen circumstances."

Zhongli stood on the tilting deck, his figure as steady as a rock, his golden eyes sweeping over the apocalyptic scene.

A vast amount of rock elemental power surged silently around him, and it was only a thought away to draw upon divine power to reshape the ship's hull.

However, once divine power is unleashed, the radiance that shakes mountains and seas will tear through the night, like the most dazzling lighthouse, instantly drawing the attention of Ningguang, Beidou, and even all of Liyue Harbor.

His carefully cultivated identity as a guest elder of the Hall of Rebirth, integrated into the mortal world, will vanish in an instant, and the contract of governing Liyue by human will be broken in another way.

The price was too high.

Zhongli's gaze suddenly shifted to another absolutely stable presence within the storm.

FAMAS, arms crossed, hair flying like flames in the gale.

Only Famas, the war lord and god of fire who had no ties in this world, was known to all. He had no need to hide and was not afraid of being exposed. This overwhelming chaos was nothing more than the backdrop of a grand performance for him.

Famas's lava-colored pupils swept over the Fools veterans struggling in the icy seawater, consumed by fear, and a barely perceptible ripple flickered in his eyes.

It wasn't out of pity, but rather the instinctive regret of the god of war for the soldiers, seasoned on the battlefield, who were on the verge of destruction.

Even so, Famas still had a mischievous glint in his eyes, as if he were enjoying watching a good show, and glanced sideways at Zhongli beside him.

Zhongli's golden eyes calmly met the mocking gaze, as if silently criticizing the other's naivety. His steady will, like the gentle tolling of an ancient bell, resonated directly in the boy's mind:
"FAMAS, get them out of here."

It was straightforward and decisive, leaving no room for negotiation.

"Tsk."

Famas grimaced in displeasure, but still chose to save the Fools soldiers.

This was originally his idea as well.

The boy did not roar, nor did he make any exaggerated starting moves.

The arms that were wrapped around her body fell naturally to her sides, and then her right foot stepped forward gently.

It wasn't a heavy step; it was just an ordinary footing motion.

But just as FAMAS's shoe sole touched the slippery, tilting, and nearly broken planks of the bow deck, "Buzz..."

A deep hum, impossible to detect by hearing but enough to send shivers down one's spine, like a pulse from the deepest part of the earth, instantly swept across the entire sea.

Time seemed to be gripped by an invisible hand.

The flames that had been burning due to the explosion were instantly drained of all their vitality, abruptly freezing, maintaining their wildest form from the previous second, but without any heat waves or sounds escaping, transforming into a series of eerie and still crimson reliefs.

The surging, icy seawater eerily stopped flowing when it reached the edge of the breach in the hull. The splashes and waves remained suspended in mid-air or surging motion, like the purest crystal sculpture, eternally frozen in that moment of kinetic energy.

The tooth-grinding cracking sound of the Yermak came to an abrupt end.

The entire giant ship, along with all the fleeing, toppling, and screaming figures on it, was as if it had been thrown into a giant piece of amber, instantly frozen in its final struggle. The sinking momentum was forcibly held up by an irresistible repulsive force, suspending it at the critical point of capsizing.

Even the billowing smoke, the flying wood chips, the dust kicked up by the explosion... all the chaotic elements were undeniably frozen in place by those seemingly ordinary footsteps.

There were no towering pillars of fire, no scorching heat waves, and no ear-piercing roars.

There was only dead silence.

An absolute silence more suffocating than any clamor.

It was as if this sea, along with all the living and dead things within it, had been forcibly pulled from the canvas of reality by a giant hand belonging to war itself, and the pause button had been pressed.

In the center of this frozen, silent apocalyptic scene, only FAMAS's figure is alive.

His crimson hair fluttered slightly in the invisible force field, and his eyes calmly swept over the battlefield that had been forcibly frozen. The old soldiers of the Fools, who were frozen at the edge of the sea, their faces still frozen with despair and astonishment, were reflected in his eyes.

Then, his lips opened and closed silently.

Although no sound was uttered, every conscious being—whether it was Beidou clinging desperately to the ship's railing on the distant Death Star, his pupils contracted in utter terror, or Ningguang gazing into the distance, her jade pipe silently slipping from her fingertips, or Zhongli and Pantalone nearby—all clearly heard those words carrying the cold will to end all conflict:
"Return to normal".

The war ceased due to Famas's will, but then an even more astonishing scene began.

Time, this invisible and intangible yet all-powerful torrent, under the absolute will of the god of war, let out an unbearable wail and then began to roll backward.

On the Death Star, Beidou was about to hand the telescope to Ningguang, the roar of preparing for a full-scale attack still rolling in his throat.

Ningguang was about to drop the jade pipe she was holding between her fingers due to the shock in her mind. On the deck, the gunners' arms were bulging as they pulled the trigger ropes, and the crossbow bolts of the Returning End Machine gleamed with the cold light of elemental energy, ready to be fired.

On the Yermak, wood chips flew everywhere at the cabin entrance, seawater gushed out, Pantalone's frozen, helpless expression stood out, Zhongli's eyes held a calm contemplation, and Famas's lips curled into a mischievous smile...

Everything seemed to have been rewound by an invisible giant hand.

The burning flames receded back into the cannon muzzle and the broken hull like a candle flame being sucked back; the surging seawater flowed back into the sea in a strange way, carrying away the scattered debris; the shattered pieces of the ship's planks flew back to their original positions with a slight clicking sound; the soldiers who were thrown away by the shock wave stood up again as if defying the laws of physics.

Pantalone withdrew her outstretched hands to her sides, her annoyed expression turning into a morbid satisfaction after the deal was completed; Zhongli's surging rock elemental power subsided quietly, and he shifted his gaze away from Famas.

The timeline was forcefully dragged back to the moment when Pantalone had just put on Zhongli's amber earrings, feeling an almost manic sense of satisfaction.

The sea breeze began to howl again, the sound of the waves remained the same, and the echoes of the cannon fire seemed to linger deep in our ears, bringing a strong sense of unreality.

But before them, the Yermak floated perfectly intact on the moonlit sea, its deck clean, without smoke, holes, or signs of capsizing.

Only the foolish soldiers surrounding Zhongli held weapons that gleamed coldly.

The incongruous white rock earring on Pantalone's earlobe gleamed with a warm yet dazzling luster under the moonlight, while the deep blue teardrop earring in Zhongli's palm remained cool to the touch.

A deathly silence enveloped both ships. (End of Chapter)