The greatest trait of something like a world will was its blunt simplicity.
It could hardly be helped. A normal macro-level will that governed the operation of a world did not understand twists, feints, and layered meanings. So if Flynn wanted to communicate with it, the wording had to be as direct and easy to grasp as possible, plain and straight to the point.
I'm here to ask for investment.
And once you invest in me, you can't very well keep rejecting me, can you?
As for whether it would work, he was not too worried. The reason this plan sat at the top of his list was not just because the benefits were enormous, but because in theory, the success rate was quite high as well.
To put it in simple terms, he was like a newly born immortal sapling in some world, one who had landed right inside the territory of a supreme holy land and was now being hunted by the power of its mountain-protecting grand formation.
It looked dangerous, but so long as he could draw the attention of the holy land's upper ranks and get them to take one look, they would immediately realize:
Aha, an Ancient Sacred Body, and not one with its path severed. Boundless potential.
At that point, so long as he showed the proper attitude, who would refuse to invest in him?
And his "Sacred Body" was even more special than that. As soon as he survived the newborn stage, he would be able to condense a Gate of Transmigration. At that point, this universe would profit enormously even if it gained no material or energy at all. Simply receiving some foreign laws and information would already make it worthwhile.
A loss?
That was not even a possibility.
But...
Where was the reply?
Something's wrong.
After waiting quietly for a while with no response, Flynn realized there was a problem.
Whatever the difference in scale between them, at least in terms of rank, he and this universe stood on equal footing. It was like the basic courtesy between human beings. Even if the other party had no wish to engage, there would still have to be some kind of response, even if it was only a blunt "Get lost."
Yet no answer came.
...Don't tell me something really has gone wrong.
He found it hard to believe.
He knew this world was chaotic. Anyone who paid enough attention to the in-game text could piece together some of the larger cosmic background.
There was the ultimate law that all life must eventually perish, and there were hints of a dark fate and a blazing light swallowing the universe whole.
Judging from certain implications, the universe had likely passed its prime not long ago and was now plunging into decline.
But Flynn had never taken that too seriously.
With a world of the same order in his possession, even if it had only been a seed, he had a fairly clear understanding of how deep the health bar of something on this level ought to be. No matter how sharp the decline, when placed on the scale of a mature greater universe, it still had to be measured across an enormous span of time.
In other words, those calamities should still have needed more time to grow before they could truly damage the foundation of the universe itself. By then, he would have already developed, repaid his karmic debts, and fled. Why would it matter to him?
But now the will of the universe was not replying at all.
Which left only three possibilities.
Either those calamities were far stronger than he had imagined, and the universe's will was too busy dealing with them to respond.
Or Teyvat just happened to be in a "fallen zone," and the universe's will could not receive the signal.
The last possibility was even worse: this universe was already terminally ill, its macro will blurred and sunken into sleep.
No matter which one it was, none of them were good.
That's troublesome.
Still unwilling to give up, Flynn sent several more messages. They vanished just like the first, sinking without a trace. At that point, there was nothing for it.
Then I'll have to settle for the next best option.
Using the same analogy, if the "upper ranks of the holy land" had collectively run into trouble and could not be contacted, then how was a "newborn Sacred Body" supposed to deal with the hostility of the "mountain-protecting grand formation" and secure the resources needed to survive infancy?
Simple.
If the upper ranks could not be reached, then surely the disciples of the holy land still could.
And right beneath him, there happened to be one.
The planet on which the continent of Teyvat was located.
I may as well call it Teyvat too.
As was often the case in transcendent worlds, a living planetary world possessed a planetary will of its own, similar in nature to a universe's will, only of a lower rank.
Having made up his mind, Flynn withdrew the gaze he had cast into the starry sky and turned it downward instead, observing Teyvat from the perspective of a world.
The moment he did, if he had still been in a human body, he would probably have sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth.
Teyvat's planetary will was in an appalling state.
If compared to a human body, then its skin was covered in wounds, its organs were failing, its internal circulation and immune systems were nearly destroyed, its limbs were crippled, and on top of all that, it was poisoned and unconscious.
But when he thought about everything it had gone through over the past several thousand years, it no longer seemed strange.
The dragon race it had nurtured with its own hands had been driven nearly to extinction. The elemental authority entrusted to the Dragon Sovereigns had been taken away by half, then turned around and used as the foundation of a new order to suppress the order Teyvat itself had once established.
And that had not even been the end of it.
Nibelung had returned from the cosmos carrying the Abyss, then fought the Heavenly Principles until one side died and the other was left crippled. The planet itself had suffered terribly in the process.
After that, the foreign human race completely replaced the dragons as the native inhabitants. The gods born from fragments of the Heavenly Principles began stirring chaos across the land, and every one of them that died left behind massive, near-permanent pollution. The Abyss, meanwhile, was actively trying to move in as a permanent resident...
Tsk. What a miserable state.
A thousand thoughts narrowed down into a single reaction. Flynn made the decision immediately and sliced off a piece of himself.
More precisely, as a world, he split off a portion of his origin.
The will of the universe was vastly greater than he was. No matter what state it was in, he was powerless to help. But Teyvat's planetary will was a different matter.
Grievously wounded? On the verge of death? Deep in slumber?
It did not matter.
For all that his current scale was just as tiny in front of Teyvat, his origin was effectively a miracle cure to lower-ranked beings of the same kind.
Here you go.
Ignoring the instant sense of weakness that came from cutting away part of himself, Flynn drove that severed fragment of origin straight into Teyvat's planetary will.