Chapter Text
A long time ago, when Gods once still walked on the earth amongst mortals, there was one name that was feared throughout the world, even Heaven trembled, and Hell quaked at the mere mention of this name.
Speak of their name, and crimson blood shall wash over the lands and the mountains, coloring the sky and the waters eerie red.
For their might was unmatched, their prowess was unparalleled and their yearning for battle was second to none. Gods and Mortals cowered in terror of their presence, and they would flash these weaklings a grin of mockery, and a pair of degrading eyes to look at the weaklings.
Are there none beneath the Heavens that can give me a decent challenge?! They roared out loud, like a sacred Shankha's howl that could be heard thousands of leagues away, marking the beginning of an inevitable end. Fret not, for as much as they thirsted for blood and war, they did not seek for the world’s end; if it were to end, who else could they cross their weapons with? All they wanted was a worthy opponent to satisfy their lust for combat.
Would the Celestia heed their loud prayers and granted them their wish...?
Would the world end with it?
...
Osial cared not for that divine place hovering with so much pride in the sky, nor did they believe that it had the power to reign over the fates of those below, which includes them. A strong skeptic, they only acknowledged raw power and strength; it was what that proved one suited to live in this realm.
The Overlord of the Vortex strode towards the land in lazy steps, rising from the shallow sea in their male 'mortal' form; they appeared as a tall man with grayish skin, a pair of glowing blue eyes, cobalt beads forming a formation on his face akin to opera mask ornaments, long black hair with azure streaks. He donned himself in war armor that carries the colors of the sea he left behind as if he was reminding himself of where he came from.
The cause of his appearance to the land was no other than no one in the sea could give him a decent, blood-boiling fight. His opponents were turned into a plump of minced meat too soon, they didn’t even last up to three bouts against him and he had vanquished the stronger ones in his path to becoming the strongest. Such boredom, such weakling. He grumbled in his mind, cursing their weakness for making his life tedious, so he chose to kill his time (not that he had a limited amount of it, strong gods like him practically had all the world's time) by walking down this mountainous area. His eyes kept on looking to the front, sometimes sparing a glance or two at the high rocky structure standing tall around him. This was his first time venturing outside his domain after a good thousand of years swimming inside the dark watery abyss, and this mountain formation was alien to his knowledge. Had they always been there since Teyvat was born? Then again, considering his own strength, maybe the local god of this area might be someone equally, if not more, strong. The imagination of finally finding someone who was worthy of his time sent a chill down his spine, his soul tingled with excitement.
His steps abruptly came to a full stop when he sensed a presence...no, two, in fact. He could tell one of them is way weaker than him, but the other one...this one is above his expectation. It exerts a calmness of the immovable mountains surrounding him, the sheer amount of pressure it gave him felt like a meteor crushing him. Peace be damned, he wanted this, he wanted to fight this one so bad, to cross blades with them, to skewer his polearm into his prey’s chest as he looked at them with victory washing over his face.
Osial summoned his polearm; its deep blue color pole sparkles so brilliantly under the summer’s sunlight just like the ocean where he comes from, water dragon ornament coiled around it, the blade was painted darker navy, unpolished gems floating around it, his whole weapon was the form of ocean’s wrath. Osial grinned from ear to ear and launched himself out of his hiding spot behind a boulder, white steam covered his sight but it didn't deter him from precisely aiming at his opponent, he’s used to every kind of battlefield situation after all those long years of painting his blue spear red that he knew where his target was just from intuition.
The warm, white fog began to dissipate the closer he was to the ground, and he could see who his target was. It was a young man with long dark hair and a pair of draconic horns resting on top of his head, the tips are glowing a dim amber. The man was presumably naked as he leisurely bathed in the hot spring, showing his unprotected back at him. The male’s companion was a woman sitting by the poolside, still fully clothed and she’s the first to notice the incoming Osial, eyes widened in horror and upon the realization that her friend was in danger. She tried to shout, but it’s all too late.
Osial had no mercy when he’s on the kill.
“YOU’RE MINE!” He shouted so loudly (it’s probably his only form of mercy, by warning his prey of his presence) and jabbed his spear downward to pierce the man’s body.
The stranger merely tilted his head back slightly, and for a second, Osial caught the sight of a pair of amber eyes staring back at him.
Emotionless, cold, indifferent. Disinterested.
Perhaps, it was not the woman who noticed him first.
You worth not my time, ...was what the young man perhaps wanted to say.
A sudden shock from pain struck his whole body, only then he realized that his abdomen was impaled by a dull, sturdy rock pillar emerging from the hot spring beneath the man’s feet. He’s thrown back into the air, landing into another pool of hot springs a few dozen meters away. Luckily, he came from the sea, so this shallow, hot pool wasn’t going to drown him to death. Osial rose from the waters, his whole body was drenched in hot water.
“Damn it!” he cursed and turned to see the two strangers who gave him a look he didn’t even bother to describe. The woman was frowning to hide her worry and panic, and the man’s visage remained the same, putting up a stone-cold expression on his mein. “You took me by surprise, damn you!” there’s no animosity in his curses, strangely, it felt like he’s talking to an old friend who he failed to surprise.
“...That should be my line. State your business, intruder. For I shall not be merciful if you aimed to bring harm to my territory,” his voice, Osial notes, was deep and powerful, dominating. The man got out of the hot springs, not caring to even wear anything to cover his body. Osial was stunned by the sight before his eyes, he never really cared about his targets’ appearances but Heavens be damned, this young man was stunning. His slender, tall figure was not ideal for a warrior, but those toned abs and broad chest, not to mention the straight, steady posture as he stood, spoke everything about him. Undoubtedly, the man in front of him was a fellow seasoned warrior as well.
Not to mention that he reeked of divinity, just like him. He too was a god.
“...Morax, you should...wear something first.”
Morax, as she called him, turned his head around, mouthing a low ‘Oh’. Somehow, the situation grew awkward for the Overlord, but the fact that he’s fully naked didn’t seem to bother Morax in the slightest. He quietly received his bathrobe from the woman and dressed well, turning again to face Osial who’s still trying to process why the hell he’s sparing the man some time to dress instead of going out for the first blood.
“State your affairs, outlander.”
Ah, right, back to business. “Fight me.” The woman frowned deeper, Morax merely tilted his head. “I say: fight me! You looked hella strong, so let’s fight and see who’s stronger!”
The goddess remained silent, either feeling that it was not her place to speak, or she knew that Osial only addressed her friend. Morax sighed, and agreed, “Very well. Perhaps we could do this another time-”
“No!” he roared back. “Fight me, NOW!” Evident to his desire, Osial jumped out again, halberd in hand, he rushed towards the weaponless Morax. “Get your weapon out, Morax! Fight me to death or else!”
Morax calmly watched his move and finally after being as still as a boulder, he swung his hand. A ray of light flickers by his side, Osial suddenly stopped and shielded himself with his halberd. There was a sharp ring echoing in the air, the spear twirled in the air, returning back to its owner’s hand. Had Osial kept on with his pursuit, there would be no doubt that the spear Morax shot at him would have claimed his life instead.
Things started to get real interesting!
“Like that! Like that!” He stanced himself and rushed forward, thrusting his halberd towards his newfound opponent. “Come on, Morax! Show me more of what that spear of yours does!”
“Guizhong, get back.”
Morax parried the strike, returning the blow by retracting his weapon, and dealt quick, consecutive strikes to Osial which was returned in a similar fashion of blocking and parrying. The high-pitched clashes of metals rang loud in the air, it was like a war drum that beat passion into him. His movement, in contrast to Osial’s brute, powerful strike, was elegant, rapid, and precise; he knew where and what to aim.
He pushed Morax back, the latter had no other option but to climb the boulder behind and jumped, slamming his spear onto him. The Overlord brought his halberd above his head, withstanding back the brown-gold spear. Morax flipped on the air, somersaulting a few meters away, and entering another stance, glaring at Osial with watchful eyes.
The Overlord noticed how those dull eyes began to glow, brighter than they were before.
“That’s it… That’s it… That’s the kind of look you should have on me, Morax! Good! Very good!” He laughed and continued exchanging fierce strikes. Soon, the battle escalated into exchanges between stone attacks against water, causing more destruction to the site as stone spears rained down from the air and strong water waves swept them away. One bout became two, two became three and so on, by the time the ringing died down, the sun had long set into the west. Both fighters weren’t done yet, yet their ragged breathing couldn’t hide their fatigue away. It was a wave of peace in the middle of the chaos, like the eye of the storm.
The mountainside was chipped away by their strength, the hot springs all were ruined, boulders littering the whole battlefield.
“Okay, I think this is enough.” Both men glanced at the goddess who brought them some food on a wooden tray, no one knew where she had been during their intense fight, not like Osial care, maybe she went somewhere else safe and watched their fight from there. The woman didn’t sound really pleased, in fact, she was probably pissed. “It’s night already, and you all ruined the hot springs. Cloud Retainer is going to give you two a whole three days of lecture like this.” She set the food down on a boulder-turned-makeshift-dining-table, both hands on her hips. “Osial, was it? Come over. You must have ventured a great deal of distance, I can tell. We got a lot of food for the both of you.”
“I don’t need THAT! I’m here only to-!”
“Guizhong is right,” Morax cut him short, “Even a strong fighter won’t be able to fight on an empty stomach,” the dragon god cast away his weapon and it disappeared into the thin air in the form of fireflies light. “Guizhong, what do we have for today?”
“Your favorite Adeptus Temptation, Tianshu Meat, Blackback Perch Stew, and of course, some Osmanthus Wine to celebrate...so, any of you won?”
Morax shook his head and created three stone seats from the earth, taking his seat, and started to prepare his own rice. “No. We have exchanged a hundred bouts but this fellow is persistent.”
“Yeah, I am. Do you think I’m some weak fly you can swat away easily? In your sweet dreams, Morax,” Osial took a seat opposite of his opponent (hell, could he even call him that now, when they were sitting around the same dining table like this? Enjoying the same food? Heck, he even addressed his opponent's name SO CASUALLY!), “But damn, that was the best fight I had after those boring thousand of years defeating the ones in and around my domain. Glad I came here.”
“I’m not very impressed by your...chaotic presence in my territory.”
“Well, get used to it! Because I’m not going to leave just yet and you’re not going to force me to do so!”
The sigh coming out of the dragon god’s lips served as an approval of his existence here, Osial grinned satisfyingly at that recognition.
“Alright, boys, it’s dinner time. You’d better finish these before they all became cold. My people wholeheartedly prepared them for you rascals!” Guizhong proclaimed proudly, she sounded like a mother at this rate.
“...You know, towards an enemy, you’re quite the nagging woman.”
Guizhong crossed her arms. “Morax doesn’t seem to deem you as a dangerous enemy. You came here just to fight him, not to destroy our land. There’s no hostility needed between you and me.”
“However…” Guizhong smiled, and Osial couldn’t deny the sudden chill clawing his back, “if you harm my people, it shall be a different case.”
Her voice was sweet and gentle, but it was hiding a deadly dagger behind.
Morax calmly dug in through his dinner, even his elegance remained as he brought his dinner into his mouth, eyes closed in order to fully savor the exquisite taste of the mortal’s dinner, so uncaring of the tension between his opponent… or guest and her like he’s in his own world, he’s so used to this already.
“So, what’s your name, o’ esteemed guest from far?” Guizhong asked, giving him his bowl of rice.
“...Osial.” he answered as he received the bowl.
“Oh? Never heard that name before.”
“And now you have.”
“True,” Guizhong laughs heartily and picks up her own set of dinner. “Welcome to Guili, Osial. We hope you enjoy your stay here.”
“Sure, I’m enjoying your hospitality so far,” he threw a glance to the other god who’s now sipping his soup. “I truly enjoy it.”
“That so? We’re glad to hear that. However…” she looked around, projecting her worry. “We should do something about this, right, Morax?”
“I’ll do what I can do. Maybe, Osial’s power will serve its purpose here too.”
“What? You’re expecting me to tidy up?”
“The hot springs are a mess because of your impulse. You have your share of responsibility here, be you a guest or not.”
Osial growls, muttering a ‘fine, fine, I get it’ and dug in. He picked up the same cutlery the two used, a pair of chopsticks that looked so fragile in his fingers that he might have crushed them into bits with so little force. He watched how they were using these sticks to pick up the food and placed it in their mouth and Osial tried to imitate it...to no avail as the food dropped back onto his plate a second later.
“What-” he heard a chuckle coming from Guizhong, and it stirred him up. “Don’t laugh! I never used this kind of thing before!”
“We get that a lot.”
“You don’t have something that’s easier to use? Damn these sticks!”
“If you wish to truly enjoy Guili’s gastronomy, you must master the chopsticks,” Morax calmly replies, was that a mockery? “It’s not as hard as it seems to be.”
“Yeah. I’d probably die first from starvation,” he stabbed the meat like his spear did his opponent, Morax winched at the sight like he just desecrated a tomb. Osial ignored this and proceeded to throw the meat into his mouth, chewing down the soft texture, savoring the spice and oil bursting out of the cooked muscle. “...This is good.”
“Sure it is. I had the best chef in Guili to cook for us! Have some more!”
Osial realized that this was the first time he shared a meal with anyone other than himself. Always seeking out a good fight, Osial never considered having dinner or drinks with his opponent, he only wanted their blood and their defeat. But...with these two…
This isn’t bad, he thought to himself and finished his food.
Both he and Morax managed to fix the hot springs, but they still got an earful from the owner of this mountain. What a way to end the day.
- To be continued(?)