Class: Origin Deity
Skill: Origin · End-God
Max level effect (Lv.5): Summon the Paradise Dimension to descend. The user incarnates as the End, becoming Lord of the Dimension and wielding all its authorities and power.
(Lv.1 = 10% of max effect; Lv.2 = 20%; Lv.3 = 30%; Lv.4 = 50%; Lv.5 = 100%.)
Duration: 60 minutes (Lv.1–4; Lv.5 is unlimited).
*No cast time, no cooldown, no class penalty.
Mana cost: 10% of total mana (Lv.1–4 fixed and cannot be reduced; Lv.5 costs 3% of total mana).
This was Taro's newly acquired trump card.
The new class, Origin Deity, came with several powerful class skills—this one bordered on broken. It was the superior form of Origin Super-Tier: Heaven Manifest, a straight upgrade. Pity his class level was only Lv.1, so the limits were still heavy. Even so, the power far exceeded his old super-tier magic.
In his current state, he could fire it about ten times in a row. Even at 10% strength and only sixty minutes a pop, it was enough. Once the class hit max level, the effect would surpass many ordinary world-class artifacts and could stand shoulder to shoulder with the Two Kings. As for resisting or nullifying 360-degree abilities—easy: use a world-class artifact. Passive effects from those wouldn't stop this.
Taro smirked inwardly.
Still have work to do. Can't wait to max the class.
Under everyone's eyes, the silver-white hand slowly withdrew from the river of time. Its fingers had closed tightly—holding something unseen. As the hand left, Teyvat's time-stream receded. The hand opened.
A mote of radiance floated forth.
Paradise's order re-awakened. Rule-power surged.
A faint heartbeat sounded.
Violet light gathered and knit into a human form.
"Onee-sama…"
Raiden Ei's eyes went wide. She couldn't stop herself—she lunged straight into the figure's arms.
"Eh—"
Caught off guard, Raiden Makoto staggered, but her hands rose on instinct, holding the sister who had slammed into her. She patted Ei's back and ruffled her hair.
"I'm back, Ei."
"Mm."
"Welcome back."
Ei lifted her face. The mist in her eyes cleared fast. She slipped free from Makoto's embrace, feigning calm. She had not cried. Absolutely not. No laughing.
"You teared up," Makoto teased.
"Don't look down on me."
"All right, all right, my fault."
"That's right."
Makoto took a long, careful look at her sister—then her brows drew together. When all she'd left behind was a will, she couldn't see clearly. But now Ei's current state was obvious at a glance.
Makoto's gaze shifted to the still-bound Shogun puppet. Understanding clicked into place.
"Ei… I'm sorry. I made you suffer."
"I wasn't a good sister. I dropped all of this onto you out of nowhere. You must be exhausted."
She sighed. Her chest ached. After sacrificing everything and sinking into Musou Isshin, she couldn't sense the passage of years outside. However long it had been, Ei must have hurt.
Ei shook her head, a little guilty. In the past she clung to "Musou" and didn't quite accept Makoto's "Dreams." After losing her sister, she twisted that base Musou into "Eternity without thought or desire." There had been a lot of running away mixed in. Now she finally understood a fraction of Makoto's "Dreaming Eternity." Compared side by side, her own stance looked ridiculous.
When Makoto wasn't here, Ei still had an excuse to hide. But now… no excuses left. Makoto had returned. When they went back to Inazuma, how was she supposed to—explain?
Shogun, save me—
Wait… oh no. She'd traded the Shogun to Mr. Taro as the price to revive onee-sama.
I am so dead.
Catching Ei's guilty little face, Makoto felt a prickle of foreboding. Her sister only wore that expression after she'd done something wrong—eyes shifty, tone hesitant, posture awkward.
We'll talk at home, Makoto signaled with a look.
Ei ducked her head and didn't respond. The bad premonition grew, but guilt smothered it; now wasn't the time to press. They weren't the main act at the moment.
"Your Musou Isshin."
Taro flicked his wrist and the blade drifted toward the sisters.
Makoto reached up to take it—
—and Ei promptly turned into a streak of light, dove into the sword to hide, and then piloted Musou Isshin into Makoto's hands from inside.
Makoto's eye twitched. Role reversal? Really?
"You two go outside and catch up," Taro said. "Talk as long as you want."
With a casual wave, he sent Makoto out of the Paradise projection, back to Yaoguang Shoal. Then he turned to the lingering Time Archon.
"Speak. You didn't come only to fulfill the pact."
"Mr. Taro is perceptive."
Perceptive? He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Back on his old world the internet had worn that word out.
"I came first to ensure the loop closed," Istaroth said plainly. "Second, to make friends. Within my scope, I'm willing to offer you conveniences—so long as you don't shatter Teyvat's hard-won balance."
"Much obliged, Istar—"
"Stop," Taro cut in. "That makes me sound like some cartoon villain. If no one bothers me, I have no reason to blow up Teyvat. Handle your own house. Don't get in my way or point fingers. I have my code."
A beat of silence.
Yes, that was aimed at Ronova.
(Ronova, from somewhere: "Are you done yet? Seriously?")
"Understood," Istaroth said. "I came with goodwill."
"Good." Taro nodded. "If no one acts brain-dead, everybody's happy. Right?"
How was she supposed to answer that? The rulers of the high heavens were not generally brain-dead. If one was, persuasion usually worked. But below them—other powers and parties—who could say? She would not make reckless guarantees. Make a promise, and if something did happen, the blame would land squarely on her head.
And she did not intend to carry that pot.
(End of Chapter)
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