Chapter Fifty-One: The Best, and the Least Lovable

“Are you certain you can control that kind of power? That’s a force from beyond this world,” Focalors asked in disbelief.

“I’m absolutely sure!” Furina puffed out her chest with pride. On her modest and unassuming form, there suddenly appeared an aura powerful enough to pacify the world itself. She gazed solemnly at Focalors reflected in the water and declared, “I met the master of that power. It was he who gave me courage and confidence. His power is safe, without danger. I choose to trust him, and I truly believe that force is harmless.”

“What if he’s simply using you? Perhaps all he wants is a breach, a way to invade the world of Teyvat,” Focalors pressed, her brows furrowing.

“Impossible! Absolutely impossible!” Furina’s voice rose, her confidence and pride peaking. She knew perfectly well that the reason Lu Mingfei wanted to come to Teyvat was because she was here; without her, he’d have no interest in this world at all.

Besides, Lu Mingfei was not the kind of person who craved trespassing into other worlds. His desires were simple: someone to love, a lasting goal to pursue, friends to share his days with. That was enough to bring him happiness; he had no interest in invading other worlds.

More importantly, Lu Mingfei only began to grow after he met her. She had witnessed every step of his journey, understood his heart.

He was the best boy in the world!

“If you really don’t believe me, I can let you meet him. Communication is the bridge to understanding. Just talk with him, and you’ll see. I can help you connect with him,” Furina said earnestly, looking at Focalors inside the teacup.

“Meet and communicate?” Focalors’ frown deepened.

From her perspective, she had no idea how well Furina really knew Lu Mingfei. All she knew was that her own human side was strongly drawn to this outsider from another world, and she doubted she could change that inclination.

If I really did communicate with him, would I be safe?

Focalors was unsure; she dared not take that risk. To resolve the crisis in Fontaine, she had endured for nearly five centuries—she could not afford to act rashly now. Nor could Furina come to harm.

She exhaled quietly and continued to analyze.

Though Focalors could not fathom why Furina trusted that person so much, from what she’d observed of Furina channeling his power, it seemed that she could not yet wield anything too strong. That level of power had caused no side effects.

So, for now, Furina’s situation was safe—safer than before, even, for now her daily life had an extra layer of protection.

As for Focalors’ own divine incarnation, she could not allow herself to sleep entirely. She had to remain vigilant, watching for any trace of that dark power being projected onto Furina. If it appeared, she would redirect it toward a dangerous individual—like the Harbinger.

As a godly being, Focalors was the embodiment of reason. She did not target anyone personally, nor would she retaliate against the Harbinger for attacking her human incarnation. Her only concern was Furina’s safety; anything else was merely a side effect. Simple as that.

And she would do it again!

The godly Focalors was a loving, absolutely just deity. In judgment, she allowed no personal feelings to interfere, never sentencing more harshly because the condemned was connected to the Fatui, nor inventing guilt where there was none.

If she delivered a verdict, it was because she had deeper reasons—not from any personal motive.

‘In that case, perhaps I don’t need to interfere. I can’t dissuade her, nor do I have the right to try. After all... it’s my fault she’s held the seat of the Hydro Archon for so many years. Her spirit has changed, and it’s understandable she needs something to rely on.’

I owe her an apology...

With that thought, Focalors’ gaze softened. “If you’re truly certain he’s safe and reliable, then I suppose it’s understandable for you to lean on him a little. There’s no need for us to meet. I have more important matters to attend to—I can’t remain exposed outside for too long.”

As her final words faded, the figure in the water cup gradually vanished. The godly Focalors said nothing more, for she knew the final judgment was close at hand, and her life was approaching its final punctuation.

Until then, as long as Furina did not get into any serious trouble, she could tolerate all else.

Her decision was based on the fact that Furina had twice wielded power from beyond the world without being corrupted, showing no abnormalities, and that the dark force had injured the Harbinger directly.

Setting aside any potential latent threats, Focalors found this power quite useful—at the very least, it was convenient for long-range attacks.

If Furina truly did fall, Focalors would use her accumulated power to forcibly suppress the corrupted portion within Furina, and then, with what remained, meet death alongside her on the day of judgment.

“Has she gone?” Furina looked at the fading figure in the water and breathed a sigh of relief, feeling much lighter.

But in the next instant, her expression changed dramatically, as though she had just recalled something vital. She turned stiffly, gazing at her gloved hand, and muttered, “No way... no way... no way?!”

Her eyes darted to a corner of the dining table, where a beautifully crafted cake—her favorite, bitten twice—lay toppled, a splendid fork still stuck in it.

“Oh no, this was a limited-edition cake, my absolute favorite! Why—why did it fall? When did it fall? Oh, this is unbearable, how can I go on like this!”

In the empty restaurant, the elegantly dressed girl wailed in solitude, even shedding sparkling tears.

But her sorrow was brief; she soon wiped her tears and composed herself, as if someone in another world had already comforted her.

“Sigh, what can I do?” Furina raised her tea and sipped it delicately, eyes half-closed as if listening to someone console her. She was no longer crying, but inside she still felt like a child, seeking the warmth of love with every tear and cry.

As she sipped her tea, her cheeks flushed. She realized her behavior was rather shameful—she was no longer truly upset, yet she wanted to linger in that comforting presence, listening to the boy’s awkward but loving words.

I… I really am a naughty child.

Perhaps I am the least lovable girl in the world.