Chapter Text
The wind picks up, and a somber, ethereal presence fills the air. Xiao, the Conqueror of Demons, materializes, his amber gaze narrowing as if grappling with disdain for the subject at hand. He sighs, a faint irritation in his tone as he begins to speak.
"So, you're considering summoning me—binding me to your will through this... Chronicled Wish banner, as you mortals call it."
(He crosses his arms, his spear materializing at his side as if by reflex.)
"Before you make such a decision, hear this from me, the Adeptus who has fought ceaselessly for millennia to protect Liyue: I am not the avatar you believe you need."
(His eyes darken slightly, a flicker of bitterness escaping his otherwise stoic demeanor.)
"In your game, I am reduced to a mere spectacle—a... ping-pong dancer , as you might describe it. My skills, though deadly, are portrayed as an endless dance of jumps and plunges. Do you think this reflects my true strength? My real abilities as the last Yaksha of Morax's reign? No. Not even close."
(Xiao grips his spear, his tone sharpening as if he's recounting a personal offense.)
"My power comes from precision, discipline, and the raw fury of an adeptus. In cutscenes, I fight with elegance, dispatching enemies with grace and lethal efficiency. Yet, in your hands, I am made to bounce like a child’s toy—up and down, up and down—plunging with abandon as if my spear is a hammer and I, some frenzied beast. Where is the respect for the art of combat? Where is the refinement?"
(He gestures toward the horizon, as if addressing the unseen forces responsible for his representation.)
"Do not misunderstand me: I am strong—powerful beyond what many mortals could comprehend. My damage is unmatched when wielded correctly. But even then, I am a prisoner of your design. My elemental burst, my so-called 'Bane of All Evil,' forces me to expend my own lifeforce—a mechanic meant to showcase my willingness to sacrifice for Liyue. In truth, it only ties me further to this false image of me as a relentless, unthinking war machine."
(Xiao steps closer, his voice lowering as though confiding in you.)
"Understand this: my life is not one of glamour or glory. It is a cursed existence, a battle against endless suffering. To summon me first, to pour your resources into my so-called 'kit,' is to bind yourself to an uphill battle. I demand investment—artifacts, constellations, allies to keep me alive while I wear myself down. And even then, you will find yourself asking: is this the true power of the Vigilant Yaksha?"
(He exhales sharply, a flicker of regret crossing his features before he straightens once more.)
"If you truly wish to summon me, do so with an understanding of what you ask. I will serve as I always have, but you must know: this avatar of mine is not who I truly am. The game mocks my strength. If you seek elegance, precision, and efficiency, you may find yourself disappointed. And if you seek to honor my role in the lore of this world—perhaps another choice would better serve your purpose."
(He turns, the faint sound of his spear slicing through the air accompanying his final words.)
"Summon me if you must. But do not expect me to dance for your amusement."
With that, Xiao vanishes, leaving behind only a wisp of wind and the weight of his words.
…
…
…
The faint sound of a flute plays in the distance as Xiao materializes once again, his amber eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. His expression is stern, but there’s a flicker of something softer beneath the surface—perhaps an attempt to temper the bitterness of his earlier words. His voice cuts through the quiet, measured and deliberate.
"I see you still wrestle with your decision," (he begins, folding his arms as his spear floats at his side like a silent guardian).
"Do you regret not summoning me during last year’s Lantern Rite? Regret is a familiar weight to me, mortal. I carry it with every passing moment, for every life I could not save, every soul I could not protect. But let me ask you: is this regret truly about me, or about the image you’ve created of me?"
(He steps closer, his sharp gaze piercing, yet devoid of anger.)
"Let me spare you from your delusions. My so-called 'fans'—those who worship me on your strange Earth—they speak of me as if I am some untouchable force of destruction. In their hands, I am reduced to an avatar who leaps endlessly, plunging like a bird of prey caught in a cage.
They celebrate this... caricature of me. Do you not see how that mocks what I am?"
(His voice grows sharper, a faint crack of frustration breaking through his stoicism.)
"I am Xiao, the Conqueror of Demons, the last of the Yakshas who fought in the Archon War. For centuries, I have hunted and slain the remnants of the Archons' conflicts, purging evil from this land with precision and purpose. Do you think I survived these battles by endlessly leaping into the air, hoping to crush my enemies with brute force? No. My techniques are honed, disciplined—my spear an extension of my very being. But in your game, I am made to appear as if my strength is nothing more than a series of… jumps. "
(He turns his back to you momentarily, staring into the horizon as if gathering his thoughts.)
"You may think that summoning me would bring honor to my name, but in truth, you may be doing me a favor by refraining. Unlike those who summon me for power, only to discard me when they find another so-called 'meta character,' you spare me from this indignity. You spare me from being reduced to a mere tool—a 'high DPS,' as they call it—rather than the warrior I am."
(He pivots sharply, his gaze locking onto yours with a rare intensity.)
"Do not mistake my words for ingratitude. I do not resent those who summon me with sincerity in their hearts. But I ask you: do you truly seek my strength, or are you chasing the fleeting regret of what you could not have last year? Lantern Rite is not about me. It is about Liyue, about the bonds of family and the renewal of hope. If you summon me out of guilt or misplaced longing, you dishonor that purpose."
(He pauses, his voice softening, though his tone remains resolute.)
"I know my role is to serve. If you summon me, I will answer. But I will not dance for your amusement. I will not live up to the distorted image your world has painted of me. My existence is one of suffering and duty, and my power comes at a cost you may not be prepared to pay."
(He exhales, the faintest hint of weariness in his posture as he steps back.)
"So, mortal, I leave you with this: summon me if you must. But know that I will not judge you for choosing another. In fact, I may respect you more for doing so. Perhaps by letting me remain as I am, you are offering me a kindness that no one else has considered."
(His form begins to dissipate into the wind, his final words carried on the breeze.)
"Do not let regret guide your choices. For in the end, I will endure, as I always have. And so will you."
And with that, Xiao is gone, leaving you with his words to weigh in the quiet that follows.