Chapter 29: Another Perspective
"Lady Furina, I have heard that you intend to bring rainfall to the desert."
"May I ask if this is your way of spreading faith in Sumeru?"
As previously mentioned, the order of the seven nations was established after the Archon War, and the Seven Archons are only permitted to spread their faith within their own territories.
This rule exists to prevent conflicts over faith between the Archons from escalating into wars.
Sumeru, being one of the seven nations, is represented here by Azar, while Felina represents Fontaine.
By protocol, Felina, as an Archon, should not negotiate on equal terms with these scholars. The one seated across from her should rightfully be the Dendro Archon.
However, Felina was aware that the Lesser Lord Kusanali was currently imprisoned by the Akademiya and that the sages held actual authority over Sumeru.
Furthermore, Felina's visit wasn't intended for the Archon; her goal was to negotiate directly with these sages. As such, she paid little mind to the formalities.
The diplomatic exchange began with such a sharp and sensitive question, causing Felina to arch her brow. She hadn't expected Azar to display such audacity.
No matter. She despised the tedium of hollow diplomatic exchanges.
On the other side, the scholars of the Akademiya watched Felina intently, tension evident in their demeanor.
Five hundred years ago, Sumeru's previous Dendro Archon, the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, had perished, leaving Sumeru without a strong protector. The Lesser Lord Kusanali, who succeeded her, was too weak to assert herself effectively.
In a world governed by the Seven, a nation with a powerless Archon faced dire circumstances.
Though the sages presented a strong front, they were deeply fearful of Felina openly admitting her intention to spread her faith in Sumeru.
Sumeru, in its current state, was defenseless against the encroachment of another Archon's influence.
When Felina raised her brow, the sages' collective anxiety peaked.
Felina, however, merely spread her hands nonchalantly. Instead of defending herself, she openly admitted, "That's correct. I do intend to spread the faith of the Hydro Archon in the desert."
"Or more precisely, I aim to sever the desert from Sumeru and annex it into Fontaine's territory!"
!!!
Her words shocked the room into silence.
The sages' faces turned pale. They had suspected her intent to spread her faith but never anticipated such a blunt confession. And to learn that Felina wasn't merely interested in spreading faith but aimed to carve away their territory—it was beyond their worst fears.
"Lady Furina," Azar said through gritted teeth, "Do you understand the implications of what you just said?"
"Of course," Felina replied with a nod.
Azar's expression darkened. "To separate the desert from Sumeru… Lady Furina, should I interpret this as an act of war against Sumeru?"
"Oh, no, no!" Felina shook her head with a smile. "War is cruel. As a ruler, I would not resort to war unless absolutely necessary."
"I believe securing the desert won't require such measures. All it takes is the right price, and I'm sure you'll be willing to hand it over."
"Absolutely impossible!"
A sage stood up abruptly. "The desert has always been a part of Sumeru! For us to hand it over—it's unthinkable!"
"Exactly!"
"To cede territory is a disgraceful betrayal of our nation's pride. We will never agree to such a shameful proposition!"
Their faces flushed with indignation, the sages erupted in protest.
Felina, however, remained seated calmly, leaning on one arm as she observed their outbursts with an air of indifference.
Sometimes, silence carries more weight than furious shouting.
As the seconds ticked by, her steady gaze began to unnerve the sages, forcing them to gradually quiet down.
Felina's unshakable confidence and measured smile made it clear that their reactions mattered little to her.
She knew that her plan would succeed and that the sages would inevitably concede the desert to her.
And why was she so confident?
To understand Felina's strategy, one must first grasp the current circumstances and challenges Sumeru faced.
To evaluate the decisions of the Akademiya fairly, one must consider two perspectives.
In the game, players observe the Akademiya's actions through the eyes of ordinary people, often finding them abhorrent.
Now, let us examine these actions from the perspective of a nation's rulers.
Five hundred years ago, the Cataclysm unleashed by Khaenri'ah devastated Teyvat, and Sumeru's Archon, the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, perished in the calamity.
At that time, Sumeru was in ruins. The rainforest was laid to waste, blood-red rains fell from the skies, and the losses were catastrophic.
With their Archon gone and disaster at their doorstep, the people of Sumeru were left with a mountain of aftermath to contend with.
Sumeru desperately needed divine intervention, but when they sought their newly born Archon, Lesser Lord Kusanali, they found her to possess the intellect of a child.
In Inazuma, the Raiden Shogun had spent an immense amount of effort to quell the chaos following the Cataclysm. Sumeru, lacking such a powerful Archon, had no choice but to rely on human ingenuity.
A greater problem arose.
As one of the seven nations governed by divine authority, Sumeru's political system mandated that the Archon held ultimate power.
How could they entrust the fate of their nation to an eight-year-old child?
Rulers must bear responsibility for every decision, which could shape the destiny of their country and countless lives. The sages of the Akademiya saw no alternative but to seize full control of governance to guide Sumeru through the catastrophe.
However, they dared not harm their Archon. Lesser Lord Kusanali was confined instead, and the sages took charge of the nation's affairs.
Under the Akademiya's rule, Sumeru survived the calamity.
But a graver crisis soon emerged.
The Withering—a manifestation of forbidden knowledge corrupting the Irminsul—began spreading across Sumeru, devouring the rainforest's vitality.
Over the past five centuries, the Withering had grown worse, leaving Sumeru's survival hanging by a thread.
Lesser Lord Kusanali, despite her ability to access the Irminsul's wisdom, was unable to identify the cause of this corruption.
For five hundred years, Lesser Lord Kusanali, who could connect her consciousness to the Irminsul, was entirely unable to uncover the cause of the tree's corruption.
This is not to evaluate the merit or fault of Lesser Lord Kusanali but to understand the Akademiya's perspective.
If the Archon cannot resolve the Irminsul's pollution, does that mean humanity should resign itself to death? They cannot pin all their hopes on their god; they must find a way to save themselves and Sumeru.
The pollution of the Irminsul directly concerns Sumeru's survival.
Identifying the source of the Irminsul's illness and curing it is Sumeru's most urgent matter!
Desperate times call for desperate measures!
In the face of the survival of an entire race, all else can be set aside.
Many people question why the Akademiya seems to neglect the desert completely.
To understand this, you only need to put yourself in the Akademiya's shoes.
The rainforest reveres the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, while the desert worships King Deshret. The two regions have fundamentally conflicting faiths.
Many desert dwellers believe the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata killed King Deshret, leading to their deep hatred and animosity toward the Dendro Archon and rainforest inhabitants.
However, the truth is that King Deshret's death occurred because he accessed forbidden knowledge, bringing disaster to the desert. The Greater Lord Rukkhadevata intervened to help and quelled the catastrophe at the cost of King Deshret's self-sacrifice.
By this reckoning, the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata was not the desert's enemy but its savior.
In the aftermath of the main storyline, some speculate that the Akademiya deliberately concealed the history of the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata's actions in saving the desert.
But such theories are unfounded.
First, King Deshret's death occurred approximately a thousand years ago, while the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata perished five hundred years ago.
When King Deshret died, the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata was still alive and held supreme authority over Sumeru. The sages of the Akademiya, who were not yet in power, had no means to suppress or alter this history.
It's far more likely that the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, being modest, chose not to broadcast her deeds.
Furthermore, from a pragmatic perspective, publicizing that the Greater Lord saved the desert would help ease tensions between the desert and the rainforest, possibly tempering the unrest among the desert people. This would have been beneficial to the Akademiya, so there was no logical reason for them to suppress this history.
Imagine yourself as a leader of the Akademiya.
The Irminsul is critically polluted, and Sumeru teeters on the brink of collapse, with even the Archon powerless to help.
The paramount duty of every generation of sages is to cure the Irminsul and save Sumeru.
Meanwhile, desert dwellers continually cry out that the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata killed King Deshret and refuse to acknowledge the Akademiya's authority.
And what of the desert itself? A vast expanse of sand stretches endlessly, with nothing of value to offer. Even the mighty Greater Lord could do no more than erect sandwalls to keep the encroaching sands at bay.
If the previous Archon with her immense power could not improve the desert's conditions, what hope does the Akademiya have of doing so?
Even if they had the means, restoring the desert would require massive reforestation projects spanning several generations or even ten generations, demanding immense resources and manpower.
But Sumeru's top priority is clear: curing the Irminsul.
If the Irminsul cannot be healed, Sumeru is doomed.
Would you divert resources toward the desert, an act that brings no tangible benefit, and aid a people who despise you?
From Sumeru's standpoint, helping the desert is a thankless task, devoid of strategic value.
Abandoning the desert to focus all resources on the Irminsul's recovery seems logical under these circumstances.
However, the desert's inhabitants cannot comprehend such a perspective. To them, the desert is as much a part of Sumeru as the rainforest, yet the Akademiya neglects it, refusing to address the encroaching sands.
On one hand, they resent the Greater Lord and the rainforest; on the other, they demand assistance from the Akademiya, insisting that the desert deserves aid as part of Sumeru.
Yet the desert contributes no revenue due to its barren lands and inhospitable climate.
And when offered relocation to the rainforest, the desert people refuse, claiming the desert is their ancestral homeland.
If they won't relocate, then aiding them requires transporting resources into the desert, a process that itself consumes significant supplies for those managing the logistics.
It's a futile endeavor.
If you were a leader of the Akademiya, how would you view the desert?
The Akademiya's policies toward the desert appear to be the result of critical decision-making under duress, as well as frustration with the desert dwellers' demands.
From a broader perspective, this is fundamentally a conflict of two cultures and two incompatible faiths—an irreconcilable divide.
Separating the desert from Sumeru might be the optimal solution, but the matter of national pride prevents such an action. Allowing the desert to split would set a precedent: if the desert can secede, why not Port Ormos?
For the Akademiya, the desert is a cumbersome burden, akin to an adhesive that sticks but cannot be discarded, bringing nothing but irritation.
Curing the Irminsul and saving Sumeru remains the Akademiya's utmost priority and mission.
Art, power, and even territorial integrity—none of these matter when the survival of the nation is at stake.
As for the gods?
Just as they couldn't rely on Lesser Lord Kusanali's help during the Cataclysm, they can only depend on their own methods now.
In the main story, the sages of the Akademiya sought to create an artificial god by negotiating with the Fatui's Doctor.
Their plan involved using refined divine knowledge capsules to implant godly knowledge into the Scaramouche. This process would erase Scaramouche's consciousness but grant the Akademiya a god entirely under their control.
This artificial god could connect to the Irminsul and attempt to save it.
Considering the post-storyline revelation that traces of "divine power" lingered within Scaramouche, enabling him to access the Irminsul to some extent, it implies that had their experiment succeeded, the artificial god would indeed possess powers akin to those of the Dendro Archon.
By harnessing human ingenuity to create a god, the sages might truly have produced a being capable of connecting to and healing the Irminsul.
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