Genshin Impact, I, a mere mortal, cannot accompany you to the very end.

-

The towering sea of ​​fire slowly died down.

First, the fluttering red lotus moths fell one after another, their tail flames extinguished, revealing pale, transparent wings. But after the flames burned out, only ashes remained. These moths were no exception; the moment they touched the ground, their bodies collapsed into dust.

Once the fuel in your heart is extinguished, it can never be reignited.

The woman could no longer manipulate magic.

She snapped out of her daze; she was no longer the Flame Witch, she was simply Rosalyn.

Rather than be sober, she would rather continue her madness, continue down that illusory path until she is burned to ashes, so that she will no longer have to face this reality.

Weakness and exhaustion surged into her body like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm her, but what truly overwhelmed her was not the physical fatigue, but the desolate and cold emptiness in her heart.

“Eh… eh,” she whispered.

The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, and the ashes from the burning castle rose in the wind, turning the entire castle tower gray. The only bright spot was the heart—the heart was right in front of the lady, so close to her.

It remained beautiful, as translucent as a dazzling gemstone, radiating light in the gray mist. That light was soft and gentle, reflecting every speck of dust in its yellowish glow.

Feeling the warm light.

The woman recalled that day in Mondstadt, when the winds dispersed, the gloomy clouds faded away before her, and a great deal of sunlight shone down, the sea shimmered, reflecting the clear blue sky, and the heart stood protectively before her, radiating a warm light just like it did today.

But the light no longer shines on her today.

"Why..." The woman lowered her eyes, her thin lips moving slightly. After a long while, she asked as if she had come back to her senses, "Why?"

why.

why...

why.

It's not me anymore?

Why, why, why? That pure white dream, the end of the hourglass, that promise we made—were they all just a fleeting illusion?

But that was clearly their shared dream, their shared path!

The woman didn't know why, but all she could feel was an immense emptiness.

She gazed at Ying, at the girl sheltered by the wolf cub's heart—even now, Ying was still embracing the boy, protecting him, her body covered in moth burns, her beautiful golden hair covered in dust.

She was clearly badly injured, disheveled, and too weak to even stand; yet her bright golden eyes were still fixed on the lady, like a fierce little beast. She protected Qing Nuoyan, shielding him behind her.

Why... do I need to protect her?

Rustam.

She clearly doesn't love you.

She likes another boy, not you.

Suddenly, the lady realized something. Many details she had deliberately ignored slowly surfaced. Her pupils dilated slightly as she looked at the sword lying on the ground. She had seen this sword before; its name was Kamikiri, and it was wielded by Kiyono Fuuin.

The boy named Qingnuoyan also used this sword.

Is it a coincidence?

But the Anemo Archon of Mondstadt clearly stated that Rustan is completely dead and can never be revived. That's exactly what the Anemo Archon of Mondstadt said.

The woman shifted her gaze from Ying to Qing Nuoyan, her eyes trembling slightly.

She discovered that Qing Nuoyan was seriously injured. Nearly half of his blood had been evaporated by the high temperature. His once fair skin had turned a withered yellowish-white color, like rotten tree bark. As the boy's eyelids trembled slightly, he seemed to feel pain in his dream. He gritted his teeth, sweat dripped down, and he let out a low and painful cry from deep in his throat.

—This is what she made.

I hate you.

'I hate everything about you'

'You are the person I hate most in this world.'

“You are not Rustan,” the woman murmured, gazing at Qingnuo Rock. “You cannot be.”

“Of course not,” Ying said softly.

"He is my Qingnuoyan."

His tone carried a hint of pride.

Ying raised her eyes and stared straight at the woman. "You killed your Rustan a long time ago."

“No, he couldn’t be… he couldn’t be. Rustan will understand me, Rustan will support me…” The woman’s eyes flickered again. “Rustan is a pure and innocent knight. He values ​​honor. He wouldn’t use such methods…”

The method Rosalyn mentioned was Qingnuoyan's way of protecting Ying... by depleting the opponent's stamina before the duel began.

As if she had found some evidence, she said, "He wouldn't use such means to undermine the fairness of the duel. He's always been upright... He...wouldn't trample on his own dignity like that."

"And not..." The woman paused, recalling what she had seen in the Forest of Guardians. She shifted her gaze from Qingnuoyan to the unconscious Huchiyo beside her, and said with disgust, "Sheltering a filthy creature."

The lady never doubted Qing Nuoyan's identity, and that was the reason.

Rustam is a pure and upright knight who would not associate with filth and evil, nor would he disrupt a duel. He would not be so despicable... Rustam should not be like this. Rustam is not such a lowly person.

"Russtan is dead." Ying's face was devoid of any emotion as she calmly said, "The Rustan you speak of is merely the Rustan of your imagination, just wishful thinking on your part."

"You expect Rustan to be like this, rather than saying you don't love Rustan. What you like, what you are obsessed with, is only the dead Rustan. Only the various images you have given to Rustan, the only one you will ever love is the dead him."

Ying lowered her eyes, her soft hand gently stroking Qing Nuoyan's pale hair, a faint smile appearing on her face. That smile was so piercing, like needles pricking her tender heart.

“He’s a man who cares about his reputation. In every life he’s lived, his reputation is paramount,” Ying said softly. “For this guy, reputation… or rather, honor is more important than his life. It’s the most important thing to him.”

"And what I want to tell you is—"

Ying's voice was very serious.

"...but he would give up what is most important to him for the one he loves."

The woman seemed dazed. She shook her head with difficulty. "Russian...that's not it, he never..."

"He's never been like this with you. This only means," Ying paused, then gave a cold laugh, "that he's never loved you."

“No,” the woman repeated. “No. He wasn’t such a lowly mortal… He valued honor above all else…”

Or perhaps...

Ying's bright golden eyes reflected the woman's face, and there was only the purest malice in them. "He would do anything to kill you, to stop you, to deny your path, to deny your so-called 'dream', and he would not hesitate to regard it as the highest honor."

——"Rosalyn"

"He hates you to that extent."

"You think it's your shared dream, but in reality, you're all alone on that twisted and filthy road."

The needle pierced her heart, but no blood came, for the woman's soul was reduced to ashes.

The woman took another step back, staring at the heart, which was right in front of her, so clear and distinct, yet she couldn't see it clearly... nor could she understand it. She retreated step by step.

She then looked at Qing Nuoyan, gazing at the burn marks on his body, each one carved by her own hand.

Rosalyn.

These were Ying's last words: "Everyone recognized him, whether it was Yae no Kamiko or Hana Sanri, everyone recognized him... except you. All old friends will be reunited."

"You're the only one who won't."

The woman stepped back, feeling a suffocating sense of powerlessness. She gradually walked out of the castle tower, her eyes fixed on Qingnuo Rock, staring at the wounds.

The gloomy clouds that had been gathering outside the pavilion for half a day finally began to rain. The raindrops pattered on the steps of the castle tower, gradually increasing in intensity. In the blink of an eye, all that could be seen was a white expanse of water. The raindrops carried a heavy, dusty smell, scattering the grime—and the maple leaves became even more vibrant in the twilight rain.

The woman withdrew her gaze, no longer looking at the wounds. The rain and mist soaked her body as she walked down the steps, her eyes empty and lifeless, her figure slowly disappearing into the rain and mist.

General Reddy did not stop her.

The result of this imperial contest was a draw.

Ying could no longer wield her sword, and the lady could no longer rekindle her flames. Since there was no clear winner, it was a draw, and the lady could leave.

But there's another match tomorrow.

—That was a duel against the collapse of the nation.

That was the last match.

General Thunder gazed at the woman's retreating figure, who, though still walking, seemed to have become nothing but a physical form. He gently shook his head.

.

It was raining, so the Zhuguo Mansion was quite deserted today.

The dense, slanting branches of the pines and cypresses rustled in the twilight rain, and the desolation of autumn had already tinged this ancient courtyard. The lady did not know why she had returned here.

The cenotaph still stands beneath the pines and cypresses, bathed in the mournful downpour, its verdant moss disheveled by the rain.

The woman thought about many things and gradually understood many things. The original owner of the God-Kiri was this man named Kiyono Raimei.

She looked at the tombstone, her slender fingers lightly touching it before quickly withdrawing.

"This guy really loves Inazuma." A voice suddenly came from behind.

The woman turned around and saw an elderly man sitting in a folding chair. The Great Tengu was wearing a plain white kimono. He raised his dark eyes and looked at the woman. "He loves the people of this land the most."

Tengu smiled, a nostalgic look in his eyes. "He loved the common people, especially ordinary people. He even used to run a tofu shop. When he died, he died for the sake of mortals."

"Is that so?" The woman paused, taken aback.

But in the pure white world she pursues, there is no place for mortals.

Upon closer reflection, the wolf cub died fighting to protect the people of Mondstadt—while the lady believed that weak mortals had killed him, so the pure white new world had no need for the weak and the filth.

This was her distorted dream, but she saw it as the path they shared.

Rustan has never changed from beginning to end.

“Let me tell you a secret.” Da Tengu paused. “This guy’s last battle was fought alongside the departed souls of the Pillar Nation Army… that is, the filth.”

Fighting alongside filth...?

what.

Fighting alongside filth.

The woman smiled, a smile tinged with sadness, like the pine trees in a courtyard helplessly shedding their leaves in the desolate autumn sun, carrying a lonely chill and a sense of desolation.

"Everything is connected now."