A Mondstadt adventurer was suddenly spat out of the array. His eyes flew open and he flailed wildly in terror.
"Get back! Don't come near me! Damn beasts—get away!"
His eyes were bloodshot, filled with hatred. When he noticed the dense crowd around him, he froze. A moment later, the memories blocked by the formation came rushing back.
He stared at his own hands in disbelief.
"I… I'm alive? That was all Mount Shu's trial?"
"Impossible! I clearly lived a whole life! I died to monsters out in the wild!"
For a long while he sat dazed, then collapsed to the ground in despair.
"I failed? Why! I tried so hard!"
"Why is the trial this cruel?!"
Those around him only glanced at him with dull eyes. They had all reacted the same when they were ejected.
In the Heart-Testing Array, a fleeting instant became an entire lifetime.
Some lived ordinary, mundane lives—growing up, marrying, raising children, growing old and dying, leaving behind nothing of note.
Some lived brilliant lives—becoming peerless experts or mighty rulers—only to lose themselves in the worship and flattery.
Some were born poor, could have lived brightly enough, but succumbed to temptation, crossing moral lines and ruining themselves.
A hundred kinds of lives, flashing past in mere minutes.
Fleeting life in an instant, a lifetime in a breath.
They finally understood Mount Shu's trial. But understanding did not help.
As Ningguang had said, every test has loopholes—except this one.
Life itself has no cheats. From the moment of birth to the end of death, none can skip the test.
The Heart-Testing Array was not so much Mount Shu testing them, as the world scourging their hearts.
"Flowers in the mirror, moon in the water… a dream of a lifetime."
Someone wept openly.
"I guess I have no fate with the Immortal Dao. But thank you, Mount Shu, for letting me see my heart clearly. At least I now know how to live the rest of my days."
Some drew insight from failure. Others remained shattered, unable to rise from despair.
The immortal path was never safe. Not even approaching it was without risk.
Many simply could not endure.
The world will always have few who excel, and countless who live plain, unremarkable lives. But Mount Shu had no use for the ordinary.
The path of cultivation was always cruel. No one could change that.
Zhongli and the others continued their work, one after another being sent out of the array. Some broke down into madness. Some laughed bleakly and sought death.
But here, within Mount Shu, even that was denied them.
The insane were swept with a wave of qi and restored to lucidity. Those who slit their throats found themselves whole again in the blink of an eye.
Even life and death were no longer theirs to command. This godlike control only deepened their pain.
In less than an hour, of over 1.3 million participants, only forty-some thousand still held on.
The sheer brutality of the elimination made Ningguang and the others draw sharp breaths. But Zhongli and his two companions showed no ripple of emotion, only continuing their work, batch after batch.
Among the survivors, the strongest few dozen remained calm. Thousands more struggled yet persevered. Tens of thousands wavered on the edge, vanishing one after another.
Lisa sighed.
"The Dao of mortals is narrow; the Dao of immortals, vast. The Sect Master spoke true—cultivation will forever remain beyond the reach of most."
Even those with decent talent were cast aside mercilessly. Success on this path was as much fortune as strength.
Yae Miko chuckled.
"Ganyu really has an eye. Every one of the few she pointed out earlier is holding steady. It seems those will be our direct juniors."
She glanced at Ganyu, who only smiled faintly, her gaze fixed on the trial—on Furina.
Within the array, Furina had long forgotten she was in Mount Shu at all. She was once more trapped in her five-hundred-year-long one-woman play—grand, sorrowful, and utterly solitary.
Step by step, she carried the performance to its climax, though no audience sat below.
Only at the final curtain did one arrive: Lumine.
A single tear fell, its energy crashing into the earth below.
Furina knew: her five hundred years of pain, her five hundred years of performance, had come to an end.
Gentle power brushed her face, as though wiping away her tears.
"Furina, in my eyes you are the most perfect human—weak, arrogant, and fragile, yet precisely for that reason, complete. So live on, as a human, and find happiness."
She reached out for the droplets, but they vanished like an illusion.
The curse in the mirror was gone. The phantom who had cursed her to this play had vanished.
She sat alone upon a divine throne, but joy did not come—only endless pain and rage.
She clutched her face, tears streaming.
"No… no! This isn't right! There must be a better way!"
"It can't end like this! It shouldn't end like this!"
"If only… if only I had power—enough power!"
Her head snapped up, eyes burning with resolve.
"I will cultivate immortality!"
"If humanity cannot save Fontaine, then I will become an immortal and do it myself!"
"Focalors—law cannot save Fontaine. But cultivation can!"
Her voice rang with fury and determination.
"No matter how hopeless, as long as I cultivate, I will find a perfect solution!"
"Focalors! This time, it's my turn to curse you!"
"You will live! For five hundred years, five thousand, fifty thousand!"
With blazing eyes, she roared. The illusion shattered into fragments of glass.
Furina stood unmoved within the Heart-Testing Array, as if those five centuries had been but a long dream. She had only been inside minutes—yet she had lived a lifetime.
At last, she understood. Only cultivation could grant her true control—over herself, over fate, over the world.
She would never again be a puppet in some farcical play.
Zhongli's gaze softened as he addressed her.
"Congratulations, Furina. You are the first to pass the first level of the Heart-Testing Array. Do you wish to continue?"
She nodded without hesitation. To remain an outer disciple was not enough. She needed more power—enough to fulfill her vow.
She glanced once at Clorinde, still wandering within the array, then turned back, eyes hard with resolve.
Never again would sacrifices be forced upon her. Never again would she accept empty tales of "heroic salvation."
She would change everything herself.
"Focalors! You won't die so easily! You cursed me for five centuries—now I curse you to live fifty millennia!"
"Your pitiful savior's script is garbage! Let me show you what salvation truly means!"
Darkness engulfed her once more. This time, she became Focalors herself, standing before judgment, preparing for execution.
Zhongli sighed deeply.
"To bear the burden of a god with only a mortal's body, and endure five hundred years of agony… Furina is a true god in her own right."
"Perhaps she will be the second to cross all nine layers."
"With a Heavenly Spiritual Root and the ninefold Heart-Mirror trial… her future is limitless. Mount Shu gains yet another prodigy."
Alice's expression softened.
"What a pitiful child…"
Then her eyes flickered with a trace of recognition.
"But remember—the Heart-Mirror illusions are shaped from Teyvat's own fate, through the Sect Master's great power. They are real. Which means…"
Her voice dropped.
"That creature… I think I know it. I've seen it before."
Zhongli and Venti both turned sharply toward her.
Alice went on softly:
"That great sea-beast—terrifying, yes, but nothing we could not handle. What concerned me was the one behind it. That being… was once the pet of an old acquaintance's disciple."
Venti perked up, intrigued.
"The Hexenzirkel? Don't tell me—Rhinedottir?"
Alice shook her head slowly.
"No. Worse. The Abyss Knight."
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