Haruka crouched by the lifeless body of the fallen Hilichurl thug, a faint green glow emanating from the heavy horn in his hands. Alongside it, dozens of golden Mora jingled musically.
"Finally! Equipment drops!" Haruka exclaimed, the familiar sound of currency lifting his spirits.
He stuffed the loot into his makeshift bag. "When I get to Mondstadt, a pair of boots is the first thing I'm buying. Tired of these blistered, bare feet."
Burying the defeated Hilichurl in a shallow grave nearby, he took a moment to survey the battlefield, the horn glinting faintly in his hand. Alchemical material—it would fetch a good price, or perhaps serve a purpose later.
Back at his pondside refuge, Haruka washed the blood and grime off his hands, dove in to catch a few remaining fish, and roasted his modest breakfast of bird eggs and mushrooms. The meal was simple but energizing. Afterward, he dedicated himself to his training.
Tai Chi. Push-ups. Military-style boxing drills. Every motion honed his reflexes and hardened his resolve.
By mid-afternoon, Haruka was back at the Hilichurl camp, wooden stick in hand and determination burning in his chest.
"One more," he whispered to himself. "One last Hilichurl, and that treasure chest is mine."
The camp was quieter now, the Hilichurls subdued. Gone were their wild, rhythmic dances around the clay pots. The scattered slimes in their containers blinked lazily, their once-bright elemental glow dim under the gray skies.
Haruka crept through the damp foliage, mud squelching under his toes as he pushed aside tall grass to peer through a gap in the vegetation. His sharp eyes locked onto two armed Hilichurls—one wielding a crossbow, the other preparing its next shot.
In a single fluid motion, he pressed his palms into the wet earth, lifted his torso, and sprung forward like a coiled spring.
The Hilichurls reacted instantly, lifting their weapons.
Haruka smirked. "Seven steps. That's all I need."
His wooden stick swung toward the first Hilichurl, catching it off balance and knocking its aim astray. He surged toward the second, his movements swift and precise.
Grabbing the crossbow, he delivered a crushing elbow strike to its side before twisting its weapon free. The first Hilichurl regained its footing, loosing an arrow that grazed Haruka's shoulder.
Pain flared, but he ignored it. "Not bad... but not fast enough."
Loading an arrow into the stolen crossbow, he took aim.
"I'll bet this arrow is faster than yours."
The arrow flew, striking its target with deadly precision. The Hilichurl staggered backward, clutching its chest before collapsing.
Haruka didn't stop. He spun toward the first Hilichurl, now weaponless and panicking. Two more arrows, and the camp's defenses began to crumble.
But the respite was short-lived.
A red-haired Hilichurl emerged from the shadows, its face fierce and determined. A torchbearer. Or worse—a Bomb Hilichurl.
Haruka's heart sank as the enemy scooped up a fire slime and hurled it toward him.
The slime ignited on impact, the ground erupting in a fiery blaze. Haruka dove, rolling through mud and water, his vision blurred by smoke and grime.
He wiped his face clean and loosed another volley of arrows. The torchbearer wavered, then fell, the flame in its hands extinguished.
Haruka gasped for air, sweat mixing with mud on his skin. Only one enemy remained—a hulking round-shield Hilichurl advancing with a massive wooden shield.
Haruka tossed his crossbow aside and picked up his stick, his breath ragged.
The shield absorbed every strike he threw, each attempt met with perfect defense. The two danced around the camp's clay pots, Haruka testing, probing for any weakness.
"Teyvat's rules…" he muttered, eyes narrowing. "Fire counters wood."
His gaze flicked to the extinguished torch nearby. With a spark of inspiration, he grabbed the flint in his pouch and reignited the torch, holding it aloft like a blazing weapon.
The flames licked at the round shield, setting it ablaze.
The Hilichurl panicked, flailing to extinguish the flames. Haruka seized the moment, nocking an arrow and sending it straight into its exposed chest.
The round-shield Hilichurl crumpled, its shield disintegrating into elemental residue.
Silence descended on the camp, save for the faint bubbling of the contained slimes. Haruka lowered his weapon and let out a sigh of relief.
"The treasure chest is finally mine," he whispered, his voice tinged with exhaustion and triumph.
But before indulging in the spoils, he turned his attention to the slimes.
"Cute as you are, I can't have you ruining my moment."
Standing ten meters away, he aimed his crossbow and methodically fired until the slimes disintegrated, leaving only gelatinous remnants.
He collected the loot—slime gel, arrows, masks—and tied them into a makeshift bag. His thoughts wandered.
"Slimes are pure elemental constructs. So, destroying their stability… that's what causes them to disintegrate. Fascinating..."
Haruka couldn't help but smile. Maybe he had the makings of a scholar.
Finally, he turned to the treasure chest at the center of the outpost. His fingers trembled in anticipation as he knelt before it.
"Emperor of luck, bless me," he whispered, a prayer born of both hope and desperation.
The latch clicked open.
His heart raced. The thrill of discovery was intoxicating—like drawing a rare card in a gacha game.
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Advance Chapters at patreon.com/TLLina