Genshin Impact simulation, the Shura field is endless

"Biased? What's wrong with Nianxi?"

Yu Xiuwen squatted down, took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the sweat off her little face.

Faced with her father's gentle look, Yu Nianxi was suddenly at a loss.

Dad is so gentle, he shouldn’t be partial, right?

But she is really more tired and unhappy than her senior sister.

After hesitating for a long time, Yu Nianxi finally spoke. Her voice was soft and small, and she felt aggrieved and a little embarrassed.

"That's right, I feel that Dad, you're good to Senior Sister, and the training tasks you give her aren't too tiring, but my tasks are extremely tiring, and I'm not happy..."

She said tentatively, while observing Yu Xiuwen's expression.

If her father looked unhappy, she would immediately take back what she said.

However, Yu Xiuwen was only slightly stunned. While he found it funny, he also felt a little guilty.

He had indeed neglected this a bit.

Nian Xi is indeed precocious, sensible and smart, but she is still just a child and still retains a childish side in many aspects.

So he picked up his daughter, held her hips, and swung her around in place, scaring Nian Xi so much that she hugged Yu Xiuwen's neck.

"Hehe, I'm sorry, Nianxi. It's Dad's fault. But your little sister is just a little mage, and you are... well, both a mage and a martial artist."

Yu Xiuwen showed great patience and calmed his daughter down.

Yu Nianxi buried her head in Yu Xiuwen's arms, hiding her unhappiness.

"But Nianxi doesn't want to be so tired."

"Well... okay, then Nian Xi is not going to be a martial artist anymore?"

"... "

Yu Nianxi wanted to shake her head, but she felt that this would be a disappointment to her father.

Her father made her learn so much, he must want her to become powerful.

"Dad, are you a martial artist?"

"Me? I mainly use a sword, so I kind of am I?"

"...Nian Xi wants to be a martial artist. Nian Xi wants to be like her father."

Despite her hesitation and fatigue, her voice was tender and persistent, just like a newborn bud that knows how to grow towards the sun.

"Okay! But Daddy won't let Nianxi get too tired. Nianxi is still too young, and Daddy will feel bad."

Yu Xiuwen held up Yu Nianxi and smiled with relief and affection.

During the afternoon training, Nian Xi was like a rooted pine tree. No matter how hot or tired he was, he didn't say anything.

After all, he is a child, even if his development is different from that of ordinary people. Yu Xiuwen estimated that the intensity was about right, so he stopped it with a distressed look on his face.

Every drop of sweat shed by his daughter fell into his eyes.

Gui Zhong naturally couldn't bear to let her get too tired, so after finishing her daily physical training, she served her a bowl of sweet mung bean soup that she had prepared earlier to drive away the lingering heat.

Except when the mother and daughter quarreled, Gui Zhong treated his daughter no worse than Yu Xiuwen, and sometimes he even seemed to be doting on her.

The breeze remains gentle, and the days go on as usual.

But the darkness from nothingness can no longer wait.

------

Nata is a warrior covered in wounds, never ceasing to strike his hammer.

The people forge the steps of faith with the blades, and temper the new sword in blood and fire.

Endless wails, eternal sorrow, the soldiers scattered the ashes into the dawn.

The abyss opened its millions of hungry fangs, the foul saliva of disaster flowed across the earth, and thick darkness seeped out from the gates of the world.

"Scarlet roses can still bloom on the evil land. We offer our spears and shields and water Nata's totem with our blood!"

A Nata warrior, his chest pierced with malice.

Before he died, he remembered the contents of a book he had read and shouted that he would die together with the enemy.

Blood gushed out from his broken ribs, staining the land he loved beneath his feet red, followed by more heroes who sacrificed their lives...

Yes, every warrior who sacrifices his life is a hero of Nata.

Fighting endlessly.

Yu Xiuwen stood on the dark red soil, his eyes reflecting the corpses not far away, his expression uncertain.

He didn't know whether he should throw his all into the war.

It's not just to maintain the original plot, the more important thing is that the God of Fire's plan and the awakening of the last of the six heroes of Nata require this war.

If she doesn't wake up, the resurrection poem cannot take effect in Nata, and the dead will be truly dead.

"But, if I don't take action, wouldn't that be a bit too cold-blooded?"

He said to himself, gazing at the wailing country beneath his feet, sighed, and jumped.

The war situation was not serious a few days ago, so it would be fine if he only used his clone. Now he would feel guilty if he didn't take action himself.

At worst, if the abyss cannot help the last hero awaken, he will help to make it happen himself.

Taking a step back, if Vulcan's plan fails, he will deal with the abyss on Vulcan's behalf.

He couldn't just sit back and watch his life slip away.

------

"Die, monster!"

Tears slid into the wound, and the salt came into contact with it, bringing a stinging sensation like a knife cutting.

But the young man didn't care. He took a broken knife and madly chopped at the black-blooded beast lying on the ground.

The red light in the monster's eyes gradually dimmed, and it roared and raised its claws to attack the boy.

But it has no strength left.

"Die, die, die, die!"

A heavy sadness piled up in my heart, the sorrow was greater than the water in the ocean, and the anger almost evaporated my blood.

He shouted and vented, even though the monster was silent.

"Aka! Aka! Calm down!"

Next to him, the middle-aged man with a broken leg had red eyes, which contrasted sharply with his deathly pale face.

He dragged his still bleeding body, his arms feeling as heavy as if he were dragging a rock.

But he still raised his hand and brought it down heavily on the boy's shoulder, making a solid sound.

"The monster is dead!"

"I know, I know! Uncle Vane! I know!"

The boy was unable to hold the hilt of the knife due to weakness caused by excessive blood loss. The effect of adrenaline had dissipated and he was now completely exhausted.

But the coldness in his heart could not be dispelled. He just knelt there, with his parents' mutilated bodies in front of him, crying.

Tears soaked the collar and stained it with blood, leaving traces of life.

He knew the monster was dead, but he couldn't stop, he couldn't.

Once he stopped, he would recall the scene of his parents being brutally killed and bitten.

He will go crazy.

Just like now, I feel nothing real, the pain attacks my brain nerves, and tears flow uncontrollably.

Vane looked around with tears in his eyes.

Apart from the corpse, there is nothing else.

But this does not mean the war is over.

The cold wind brought the smell of blood, and the cries of countless Nata people were heard in my ears.

He seemed to see the same war scene as the ones his children had seen before.

The world was filled with blood, evil devoured everyone's life, and the gate of the abyss sneered, mocking all the warriors for overestimating their own abilities.

"idiot!"

He slapped Aka hard, picked up a nearby knife, used it to support himself, and struggled to get up.

The cool wind penetrated the wound in the torn clothes, and the solidified blood scabs cracked like ice cubes that were kicked apart, dropping blood residue and causing fresh blood to flow out again.

The pain of hundreds of iron spikes piercing his heart made Vane gasp.

But he still looked at his nephew who was stunned by the slap he had given him, with regret.

"Get up! What kind of warrior are you? Save my sorrow for after the war!"

"Uncle Vane..."

"Every Nata warrior is ready for death and separation. Instead of crying here, why not go somewhere else to help?"

"Do you know that separations like yours are still happening!"

He roared, and the sound shook away the tears from the corners of Aka's eyes.

A-Ka was silent for a moment, and the immaturity on his body had faded away. Like a warrior who had experienced many battles, he endured the pain and climbed up with the knife in hand.

Sorrow is the fuel of anger, and separation is the precursor to madness.

His dark pupils were bloodshot, and the veins in his hands were pulsing with life.

"I understand, uncle."

He said.

He had nothing left to lose.

"Kill him."

------

This chapter's writing has improved a bit.