For a Archon, tracking the Destiny of a group of refugees was not a difficult task.
Following those deep and shallow ruts and footprints, which were particularly conspicuous on the snow, he headed north.
The outline of a dilapidated and desolate human village appeared in his field of vision.
Most of the low stone and wood houses were collapsed, half-buried by snow.
But what was more eye-catching was the strange plant growing abruptly in the center of the village, wantonly stretching out its huge branches and leaves.
“Hmm?” Morgan stopped, a flash of surprise in his eyes.
“A Cryo Regisvine?
To think it ran all the way from Mondstadt to this border buffer zone.”
Seeing this familiar yet strange monster, memories from his past life’s game surfaced involuntarily.
He still remembered the “happy” times when he was a newbie, using Amber to hold up a training bow and slowly whittle down this big guy’s health bar,
as well as the frantic scramble when he was frozen by the water ring applied by Barbara, the “traitor” in his own team.
Later, as character power creep set in, all sorts of absurd skills and DMG numbers appeared—things like “Butterfly’s Fire, Prairie’s Blaze,” “Like the Moon, Everlasting,” and “Listen to the Roar of the Sun.”
The Cryo Regisvine had been reduced to an existence that could be killed in one hit, something you’d see on the side of the road.
Of course, the real Teyvat did not have the same element immune mechanism as the game, nor did it have any resistance bars.
For an Archon who had emerged victorious from the “Battle Royale” of the Archon-eating tournament, this kind of pure elemental life was essentially just a large, oddly-shaped living target.
In the face of Morgan’s unreserved Godly aura, the Cryo Regisvine, which had originally been quietly rooted as if absorbing the cold energy of the Ley Lines, suddenly “woke up.”
Its huge flower head turned toward Morgan, and the elemental light at its core flickered violently.
Its thick roots quickly pulled away from the frozen soil, wanting to imitate escaping into the Ley Lines to slip away.
However, its movements were still too slow.
Or rather, in front of a Archon who intended to lock onto it, escape was just a luxury.
The first thing to visit its large face was a streak of ice-blue light that traveled far faster than sound.
It was a throwing spear made purely of condensed Cryo elements, less than two meters long.
Compared to the Cryo Regisvine’s massive body, it was as thin as an inconspicuous toothpick.
Yet it was this “toothpick” that plunged into the elemental crystal core right in the center of its flower head.
“Crack—”
It sounded like ice cracking.
The Cryo Regisvine’s massive body was uprooted and lifted off the ground by the terrifying kinetic energy contained within the spear.
It flew backward like a stone thrown by a giant, crashing with a loud boom onto a low snow hill behind the village.
Snow mixed with frozen soil and rocks collapsed and slid down, kicking up a vast white mist of snow, as if a blizzard had started.
Morgan stood where he was, not even having made the motion of throwing with his arm.
He gazed at the swirling snow mist, his heart devoid of much emotion.
In war, he didn’t know how many powerful monsters or hostile Archons this move had pierced through.
Using it on a Cryo Regisvine was truly overkill.
As the snow dust gradually settled, he gently raised his hand and gave a light wave.
The fluttering snowflakes seemed to be subdued by the will of a king.
Changing their falling trajectory, they parted to the sides, quickly revealing the buried scene.
That small snow hill had been almost completely flattened.
The Cryo Regisvine, which had been baring its fangs and brandishing its claws earlier, was completely wilted, its massive body shrinking and degenerating at a rate visible to the naked eye.
The ice-blue leaves lost their luster, curled up, and the thick roots quickly became thin.
In a few breaths, the giant plant, which originally required several people to embrace, had regressed back to its most basic form—
a shivering Cryo Whopperflower, only half a person tall, clattered as it dropped its loot, with three Rime Cores rolling onto the snow.
The Whopperflower hugged its head tightly with its thin leaves, trembling like a candle in the wind under the gaze of a superior being.
Its pitiful intelligence could not understand why it had attracted such a dimension-reduction strike from a being at the level of a sect ancestor.
Morgan, like pulling a radish, pinched the leaves on the Whopperflower’s head and lifted it up from the snow pit.
The Whopperflower was so scared that its leaves went stiff.
Morgan held it up to his eye level, examining the shivering little monster at close range.
He revealed a sinister smile, like an evil Tom the cat.
The displeasure he felt in his heart at seeing humans displaced was transformed into calm words that made the monster shudder:
“So it was you, bullying those humans, right?”
In his previous life, Morgan was human.
In this life, whether gathering stories as a Memokeeper, wandering the star sea as a Tuner, or making friends as a Stelle.
Deep down, he always identified with and upheld certain principles and emotions that belonged to humanity.
Moreover, the Archons of Teyvat generally came with an innate “love for humanity” attribute.
Seeing this kind of monster that destroyed human homes and forced the old, weak, women, and children to flee in the freezing snow, he naturally had no good expression for it.
He didn’t crush it on the spot because he felt this thing had other uses.
Holding the Whopperflower in one hand, he made a beckoning gesture with the other, and the three Rime Cores flew into his hand.
Morgan turned and returned to the camp.
The construction of the temporary camp was nearing its end.
The human refugees were settled in several newly erected large tents; although they still looked gaunt, they had at least temporarily escaped the biting cold wind, and the panic on their faces had subsided slightly.
Morgan walked straight to a smaller tent that had been reserved, and instructed the guard who came up to meet him:
“Guard the outside, and do not let anyone disturb me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Although the fairy guard was a bit curious, he executed the order without hesitation.
Several large buckets of clean water and several clean wooden basins were brought into the tent.
Morgan waved for everyone to leave and lowered the tent curtain.
“Alright, let’s get to work.” Morgan rubbed his hands together like a fly.
He first used his Cryo elemental power to quickly shape it, “growing” an ice crucible half a person high in the center of the floor.
Then, he walked to the corner and picked up the Whopperflower.
Amidst its symbolic, weak struggles, he threw it into the empty crucible with a “thud.”
Whopperflower: “???”
Then, the three Rime Cores were also thrown in, landing next to the Whopperflower.
“The materials are ready, but it’s still missing an ‘initiator’ and a ‘catalyst’…” Morgan stroked his chin in thought.
He closed his eyes, his spirit sinking deep into his consciousness, and the ability belonging to the “Memokeeper” quietly activated.
Soon, a vivid memory full of a “sweet taste” was extracted.
It was a [Memory] recorded while trailblazing with his companions from the Astral Express in Penacony, enjoying a drink of “SoulGlad.”
A wisp of the “Elation,” “satisfaction,” and “sweetness” memories it carried was carefully peeled away, condensed into a light cone in his hand, and gently placed into the crucible.
Borrowing the great hand of Harmony!
Mix them together!
“Materials are ready, start Tuning.” Morgan happily began to play the violin in his hand.
Starting to play the famous BGM from a certain gourmet anime, the one that plays when the lid is lifted and the food emits a golden light—
“Deng deng → deng ↓ deng ↑ deng → deng ↓ deng ↑ — —”
Invisible ripples radiated from his fingertips and the body of the violin; that was the power belonging to the [Harmony] Destiny.
In his previous life, Morgan had listened to a lot of music, and whether in the Honkai: Star Rail universe or in Teyvat, playing this music could release the power corresponding to the song.
For example, this cooking interlude from a certain Chinese anime, when used to Craft food-related alchemical products, could not be more appropriate.
If an alchemist saw him crafting like this, they would let out a shrill scream, go crazy, and emphasize— “Alchemy doesn’t exist!”
Alchemy requires temperature, vessels, time, and various other factors to begin.
But Morgan’s method was equivalent to one-click generation at a crafting table in a game.
The materials had no connection or correlation; it was all thanks to the power of “I think it works,” borrowing the power of a higher-dimensional Destiny to knead out what he wanted.
Of course, Morgan wouldn’t use this to Craft anything too excessive, like the well-known Ms.
Rhinedottir, who created the evil dragon Durin or lifeforms like the Golden Wolflord.
The current Celestia hadn’t fallen as deeply asleep as when the Traveler started their story; messing around like this would invite a nail.
The light inside the tent seemed to twist for a moment, and there were countless tiny ringing sounds in the air.
Inside the ice crucible, the Whopperflower discovered in terror that it hadn’t been killed; instead, it was enveloped by a force full of vitality, undergoing a drastic change it couldn’t understand at all.
Golden light flared within the crucible, much like a famous scene from a certain cooking anime.
The strange ringing in the tent reached its peak, then suddenly converged.
A sweet fragrance, so rich it couldn’t be dissolved, mixed with honey and ripe fruit, suddenly burst out from the ice crucible!
Almost at the same time, everyone outside the tent felt a distinct vibration coming from the ground beneath their feet!
“What’s going on?!” “Your Majesty!”
The guard outside the tent changed color, wanting to rush in immediately, but then remembered the words His Majesty had instructed.
Anastasia also looked up suddenly, gazing toward that small tent.
However, before they could act, a scene that left everyone dumbfounded occurred.
Bang!
The sturdy top of the tent was torn open from the inside out by a force!
A tree trunk rose from the ground in the center of the tent at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The canopy spread out like a magnificent umbrella, swaying gently in the still-cold northern air.
Presenting a warm honey color, the strange tree with lush green branches and leaves had grown to nearly twenty meters high within a few breaths.
What was even stranger was that among the dense canopy, crystal-clear golden “fruits” began to condense, quickly plumping up and ripening.
Then, it seemed to reach a certain critical point.
Patter.
Patter, patter, patter—
The sky began to rain golden-orange water that emitted an alluring sweet fragrance.
Golden droplets dripped from the tip of every leaf of the canopy, drawing silk-like luster in the air, falling onto the ground, the tents, and the people and fairies who were looking up in a daze.
Warm, sweet “rainwater” carrying an aura of abundant energy.
A refugee licked the golden raindrop that had fallen on their cheek with their tongue.
“It’s—sweet!”
Others also learned to taste the falling rain.