Five days had passed since the opening assault of the zombie siege.
Across those five days, life within the block world had undergone a profound transformation.
Virtually all standard resource exploitation and architectural construction had ground to a halt.
Every morning, the soldiers opened their eyes only to reinforce municipal barriers, excavate defensive trenches, and man the parapets.
The garrison moved like tightly wound clockwork.
Although the opening night of the siege had proven relatively manageable, the looming threat of weekly mutations forced everyone to stay on high alert.
Fortifications were upgraded again and again.
Along the outer walls, engineering squads carved numerous four-by-four drop apertures, converting the perimeter into a network of lethal pit traps.
Through this meat grinder, the proficiency of their SlashBlades surged at an astonishing rate, turning out batch after batch of newly tempered blades from the anvils.
While equipping tens of thousands was still out of reach, outfitting seven to eight thousand frontline combatants was easily achieved.
The opening wave of the cataclysm had already yielded its first major windfall, allowing their specialized blade corps to expand rapidly.
Once the full forty-nine days concluded, distributing top-tier SlashBlades to every soldier would be entirely feasible.
Meanwhile, the mountains of dropped rotten flesh were repurposed to tame and breed over ten thousand wolves. The pack roamed the streets of Redstone Tech City alongside the Iron Golems, forming an inner defense network against any mutant breach.
In between defensive watches, Ryen led reconnaissance parties to the New Continent, locating ancient obelisks and conducting transactions with wandering wizards.
Through these trades, Diluc and the strike leaders secured complete wizardry robes and accessories.
Master-tier casting staves remained scarce for the moment. Comprehensive development of the Wizardry mod would have to wait until the cataclysm had been put down.
With routine work in the block world suspended, the aftershocks rippled straight across the portal into Teyvat.
Snezhnaya was the least disrupted, as their direct transit lines were still under construction.
For Liyue and Mondstadt, nations whose domestic economies had intertwined deeply with the resources across the gate, the impact was immediate.
Sumeru temporarily halted its desert greening initiative, while Inazuma paused its public works programs.
Liyue felt the strain most acutely.
Holding the lion's share of foreign resources, virtually every tier of Liyue's domestic market relied on goods flowing through Mt. Tianheng.
With shipments abruptly cut off to feed the war effort, local markets grew tight.
Dairy crates, alchemical draughts, harvested crops, and enchanted steel were pulled from merchant stalls, rationed only in small, emergency distributions.
Yet the citizens of Liyue understood that strategic reserves belonged to the front line.
Had the war accepted monetary donations, the merchant guilds would have emptied their coffers on the spot.
Recognizing that Liyue's overseas garrison was stretched thin, Ningguang instructed the Ministry of Civil Affairs to accelerate domestic recruitment, issuing orders to enlist fifteen thousand fresh recruits at once.
The bureaus were overwhelmed with work.
Protracted warfare had begun taking a psychological toll on the garrison.
Facing nightly assaults by nearly one hundred thousand undead, the mental pressure weighed heavily on every soldier, even if the walls held firm.
Nerves were stretched taut.
Fortunately, Kamisato Ayato returned from Inazuma, bringing Gorou with him.
Gifted in soothing frontline morale, Gorou witnessed the terrifying scale of the siege and the hollow exhaustion etched into the soldiers' faces.
Without hesitation, he volunteered to reprise his role as Ms. Hina.
Accepting Kitsune Saiguu's illusion magic, he temporarily assumed the graceful form of the fox-eared maiden, acting as an attentive, comforting older sister to the troops.
His gentle counseling relieved immense stress across the ranks.
Before long, the legend of Ms. Hina spread throughout the allied garrison.
Even within the Khaenri'ahn battalions commanded by Aether, an ardent following of fans emerged.
Led by Endis, well over a thousand soldiers formed an official fan club, loudly declaring that their battlefield valor would prove the unmatched pride of Khaenri'ah to Ms. Hina.
Seeing that their combat cohesion remained flawless and their discipline unmatched, Aether simply turned a blind eye to the display.
One could only wonder whether their martial resolve would shatter if they ever discovered that their beloved maiden was an authentic young man.
Then again, it might only stoke their enthusiasm.
In this world, men understood men best.
As Ms. Hina, Gorou understood the burdens of the common soldier intimately, bantering comfortably with them while easing their deepest anxieties.
Crucially, the maidenly disguise was undeniably stunning.
To the troops, she was the quintessential dream companion.
To protect Gorou's peace of mind, knowledge of Ms. Hina's true identity was confined to a tiny inner circle.
Even Hu Tao was kept in the dark.
She had spent days wondering why Ryen showed zero romantic interest in such a gorgeous, mature beast-eared beauty, rarely even glancing her way, leading Hu Tao to wonder if his tastes had suddenly shifted.
Through five days of relentless siege and Gorou's tireless counsel, the allied troops steadily grew accustomed to the wartime footing.
The initial panic was replaced by quiet, professional discipline.
Back in Teyvat, the populaces of Liyue and Mondstadt remained on edge. Though civilians did their utmost to preserve domestic order, worry lingered in every tea house.
To ease their fears, Ningguang and the leaders arranged for off-duty soldiers to return home in staggered shifts during quiet daylight hours, or at least send letters across the gate.
The policy worked wonders.
While laying down one's life for the nation brought eternal glory, having one's kin return whole was always the sweetest outcome.
When Dashi returned to the harbor on brief leave today, his family had celebrated with overflowing joy, welcoming him like a returning monarch with endless delicacies.
Through these rotating veterans, the citizens learned broad details of the war.
Over one hundred thousand monsters attacking each night.
The sheer number was enough to chill the blood of any listener.
Moreover, the siege would last for forty-nine consecutive days.
This was under strict censorship, as Ningguang had forbidden any mention of the upcoming biological mutations, which would have sparked outright panic.
The soldiers maintained a unified narrative: directed by Lord Morax, Lady Makoto, and the allied Archons, the garrison had suffered zero casualties thus far.
That assurance settled the hearts of the public.
Five sovereign Archons standing together, supported by ancient adepti, divine spirits, and the premier warriors of the seven nations, fighting from behind fortified walls.
The defensive advantage was clear.
They merely needed to endure for forty-nine days.
Previously, the block world had served as Teyvat's bountiful horn of plenty; now, Teyvat had become the logistical lifeline sustaining the block world.
Redstone Tech City was primarily an urban settlement, lacking the space for sprawling, industrial assembly lines.
The allied courts took up the logistical burden.
Liyue manufactured firearms and brass cartridges, Mondstadt brewed alchemical draughts, and Sumeru supplied miscellaneous tactical reagents.
Though Inazuma was too far for heavy shipping, they contributed where they could, ensuring every nation shared the burden of the pact.
Granting the populace a role in war production kept restless minds occupied.
Yet this created an enormous headache for the Ministry of Civil Affairs.
Originally, constructing massive production lines and hiring civilian labor to manufacture munitions was meant to disperse state funds, easily meeting Ningguang's mandatory spending quotas for the month.
It was supposed to stabilize the currency.
Instead, upon learning of the war, Liyue's citizens organized volunteer shifts, flatly refusing every single Mora offered to them.
As the guild masters argued, the harbor had enjoyed record-shattering profits the previous year, leaving every household flush with wealth.
Now that their nation faced an existential trial abroad and their soldiers were bleeding on the ramparts, contributing modest labor from the safety of the rear was a civic duty.
Accepting wages under such circumstances felt like an insult to their honor.
Failing to donate direct funds was already a source of private shame; accepting government coin for packing ammunition was unthinkable.
No matter how the clerks pleaded, not a soul would accept a paycheck.
The Ministry of Civil Affairs was completely paralyzed.
With mountains of Mora trapped within the vaults of the Golden House, currency failed to circulate, threatening to drive commodity prices skyward and destabilize the market.
If the economy fractured, Ningguang would return from the front only to fire the entire economic bureau on the spot.
For days, the finance directors had lost sleep, racking their brains to invent new avenues for spending coin.
These were not modest sums of millions; these were hundreds of billions of uncirculated Mora.
With the war stoking civilian hoarding, inflation was already rearing its head.
Desperate, the economic clerks roamed the halls of the Ministry, pouncing on other departments to ask if anyone had pending budget requests.
None?
Then replace the furnishings with imported cedar! Disregard practicality; buy whatever carries the most outrageous price tag!
A research proposal requesting a ten-billion-Mora grant?
Ten billion was insultingly low!
Make it a hundred billion!
Whether the project proved profitable was irrelevant; pumping capital into the market to stabilize the economy was the sole priority!
A single paving stone cracked along the harbor thoroughfare?
Pave the entire district anew!
Their singular mission was to spend, spend, and spend!
Left unaddressed, consumer prices would spiral out of control within the month, fracturing the nation's financial architecture within a year.
Excessive wealth was just as dangerous as poverty; macroeconomics was a ruthless beast.
Yet for the moment, all eyes remained fixed on the battlements of Redstone Tech City.
As the afternoon waned, twilight settled over the plains.
Tonight marked the seventh night of the cataclysm: the arrival of the first Blood Moon.
To confront this milestone, the allied command mobilized every resource.
The long-silent redstone artillery batteries were primed and armed.
Though Ryen had noted that the first Blood Moon might not immediately spawn block-mining variants, that remained a probability rather than a guarantee.
With weeks of warfare ahead, taking unnecessary risks with the fortress walls was out of the question.
Standing atop the battlements, the council watched the golden sun sink behind the mountains.
The atmosphere grew suffocatingly tense.
Suddenly, Pervases hurried over from the portal station, offering a quick salute to Zhongli before addressing the Cryo Archon.
"Your Majesty, Lady Arlecchino has arrived."
The Tsaritsa's brow furrowed slightly, her cadence cool and measured.
"I gave an order for five days. Did she still manage to arrive late?"
Pervases offered a wry, sympathetic smile.
"Lady Arlecchino and Lady Candace appear quite battered. It seems they cut through fierce resistance along the trail to reach us in time."
Hearing this, the Cryo Archon's dissatisfaction melted away.
Had Arlecchino followed the established diplomatic roads, her march would have been slower, but safe from harm.
Under her sovereign's urgent summons, Arlecchino had undoubtedly taken a direct line through wilderness terrain.
A direct overland path meant traversing the rugged chasms of the border, contending with wild monster swarms and aggressive apex terrors like the Primo Geovishap.
The Tsaritsa turned her gaze toward Rosalyne.
"Rosalyne, escort them inside."
Rosalyne bowed respectfully, her voice low and composed.
"At once, Your Majesty."