The discussion concerning an Archon of Necromancy was dropped on the spot. None among the assembly dared entertain the thought any longer, refusing even to let their minds drift toward the concept.
Within the uncivilized wilderness of the block world, eccentric mechanics carried little moral consequence, as the realm was fundamentally raw and devoid of established civilization.
Across the threshold in the mature, deeply rooted society of Teyvat, however, certain lines could never be crossed.
Necromancy was an absolute taboo.
It was not that the school of necromancy was inherently evil, demanding immediate eradication. Ryen had consistently maintained that power possessed no intrinsic moral alignment; power was simply power, and magic carried no sin.
Yet the aesthetic reality of necromancy was something no civilized culture could stomach.
Just as elemental power did not manifest from a void, requiring resonance with the natural leylines of the cosmos, developing the authority of a Necromancy Gnosis would inevitably involve the mechanics of the soul.
Reincarnation, the departed, spiritual consciousness, and mortal remains.
It was an absolute minefield of desecration.
Picture a sovereign duel where the Archon of Necromancy summoned the deceased ancestors of their adversary to fight as rotting corpses.
The entire continent of Teyvat would erupt in pure, unbridled outrage.
Should that occur, even if Scaramouche fought with genuine devotion for the welfare of the people and stood firmly on the frontline against Celestia, the alliance would still be forced to put him down without hesitation.
Power was neutral, yet no sensible court would ever gamble on whether the mortal wielding that power would remain uncorrupted.
The topic was sealed by silent consensus. Moving forward, necromantic magic was strictly confined to the borders of the block world; under the skies of Teyvat, it was best forgotten entirely.
Ningguang looked down from the battlements, observing the kill zones below.
Though the leaders had been conversing, none had neglected their duties, casually hurling offensive spells over the stone lip to purge clusters of undead.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime window for weapon progression, and everyone carried wands hungry for experience.
Failing to farm the swarm now meant risking an empty inventory when the creatures mutated into late-stage terrors, where leisurely leveling would become an impossible luxury.
Below the ramparts, wave after wave of undead was obliterated by concentrated spellcraft.
Yet the Blood Moon hung high, its scarlet radiance fueling continuous spawns that surged forward to replace the fallen.
The ground would churn with grotesque density one moment, only to be blasted into smoking craters the next, maintaining a rhythmic, manageable cadence.
Ningguang held little personal desire for the three synthesized Gnoses.
Regarding the three server administrator seats slated for Redstone Tech City, the reality was obvious to all.
This metropolis was, above all, the sovereign creation of Liyue.
Guizhong, as the primary architect and creator of its redstone networks, had already secured a seat.
Zhongli, serving as the supreme military commander of the siege, was entitled to another.
The final seat would naturally be selected from Ryen's intimate circle.
Ryen had never bothered concealing his bias toward his partners.
Moreover, as the mortal ruler of human-governed Liyue overseeing the entire logistical framework of the campaign, Ningguang was the undisputed candidate for that final post.
A synthetic Gnosis, magnificent as it was, remained a casual trinket Ryen could forge on a whim.
A server administrator, however, inherited a permanent quarter-share of Ryen's absolute physical constitution.
Though only a quarter, when anchored into the physical laws of Teyvat, that kinetic force alone was enough to slap the Heavenly Principles off her celestial throne.
Ryen's strength knew no upper ceiling, continuing to expand exponentially with every newly installed module.
That was an authentic, rule-breaking power system.
Compared to such boundless resilience, a Gnosis was merely a minor diversion.
After a brief pause, Ningguang spoke in a low, measured cadence.
"With the mutations brought by the Blood Moon, the drops accumulating below have increased substantially, and their quality far surpasses the yields of earlier nights."
The surrounding commanders nodded in firm agreement.
Rotten flesh was trivial.
The true prize lay in the vast heaps of armor, tools, and weapons scattered across the dirt.
A massive portion of that gear gleamed with purple enchantments.
Recovering those armaments, whether to smelt them down for raw metals in Teyvat or distribute them directly to the ranks, would conserve a staggering volume of strategic materials.
Enchanted gear was especially valuable, as mass enchanting was far from simple.
"Raw materials are secondary, as our automated iron farms already satisfy our metallurgical demands," Keqing added crisply.
"The true windfall is the enchanted equipment. While our stockpiles hold abundant enchanted books, the supply is a drop in the ocean compared to the size of our standing forces."
"Recovering these enchanted tools will save our forges thousands of books, and whatever surplus our army cannot absorb can be released into foreign commercial markets."
Ningguang's lips twitched slightly, letting out a soft, exasperated sigh.
"Let us table foreign commerce for the present. The Ministry of Civil Affairs is already drowning in an unbearable surplus of Mora, racking their brains day and night to spend it."
"We shall consider commercial expansion only after our domestic economic balance has stabilized."
It was a rather absurd dilemma.
Ningguang had spent centuries striving to amass limitless wealth.
Yet now that boundless riches rested in her vaults, she found herself regretting her childhood ambitions.
The wealth had arrived, but macroeconomic stability was hanging by a thread.
A shortage of currency suppressed consumer spending and drove prices down, while a hyper-abundance of currency sent consumer prices spiraling out of control.
While rampant consumer spending seemed healthy on the surface, macroeconomics was a cyclical engine.
If citizens fell into reckless, massive consumption habits while commodity prices skyrocketed, the purchasing power of the Mora would collapse, shattering public faith in the national currency.
Money would become worthless paper, yet living costs would continue climbing into the clouds.
When the crash arrived, the common folk would bear the brunt of the devastation, a shockwave that would ripple across the Seven Nations.
How much could the Ministry of Civil Affairs do to insulate the common laborer from an economic collapse?
Handing out a hundred million Mora to every citizen on the street would merely accelerate the death spiral.
If the leadership focused entirely on developing the block world, the Ministry of Civil Affairs was consumed entirely by the art of spending state coin.
The expenditure had to be legitimate, productive, and rapid.
Such brutal constraints had driven the economic bureau to the brink of madness.
Had the other allied nations not assisted by absorbing liquidity through grand joint projects, Liyue's currency system would already be showing severe cracks.
Most alarming of all was the Golden House.
The national mint had literally become a house of solid gold, warehousing over a million tons of unrefined bullion.
Because of that staggering cache, the security detachment surrounding the Golden House was the heaviest in the harbor.
Every soldier returning from the threshold was bound by magical oaths never to breathe a syllable regarding the gold reserves.
If Teyvat learned of that colossal hoard, the gold-backed standard anchoring the Mora would dissolve overnight.
The thought of those golden vaults brought an ache to Ningguang's temples, though the present battlefield offered little time to dwell on domestic finance.
"Our greatest harvest tonight is neither iron nor enchanted armor," she noted, turning her gaze back to the staff in her hands.
"Our supreme bounty is the ascension of our casting staves."
Holding up her Advanced Earth Wand, her amber eyes shone with deep, radiant satisfaction.
"I have capped the progression bars on both my Earth and Ice wands."
"The moment we secure the required Arcane Tomes, they will ascend directly into Master Staves."
The topic instantly reignited the enthusiasm of the council.
"I capped two of mine as well, and my third is halfway through its progression," Eula chimed in, lifting her hand before adding with mild regret, "It is a pity the spawning density has begun to thin out toward the dawn. The third wand will have to wait until tomorrow night."
Murmurs of agreement rippled down the line.
Tonight's siege had been a miraculous boon for their arcane arsenal.
The only remaining bottleneck was the scarce supply of Arcane Tomes.
Ei considered the tactical timeline, turning to Ryen with a thoughtful glance.
"Ryen, the cataclysm will stretch across many weeks, meaning our window for grinding weapon experience remains open."
"Should we acquire a surplus of blank wands?"
"Though we currently hold a respectable armory, seven or eight nights of siege will easily see all our Advanced Wands capped at maximum proficiency."
"Allowing the subsequent waves of undead to perish without absorbing their experience would be a terrible waste."
Hearing this, Aether and Baizhu straightened their postures, their eyes gleaming with interest.
Unlike Ningguang and the senior circle who had arrived early and accumulated massive personal armories, their collections were modest.
Even Shenhe, who had entered the block world much later, possessed backing that reached the heavens.
As Cloud Retainer's beloved disciple and adoptive daughter, Ganyu's junior martial sister, and the cherished niece of Madam Ping, Guizhong, and the mountain guardians, she was practically the spoiled princess of the adeptal realm.
When Shenhe had first crossed the threshold, completely bewildered by the mechanics of the world, Cloud Retainer had stuffed an advanced wand into her hands, Madam Ping had slipped her another, and Guizhong had handed her a third.
Then came Mountain Shaper, Moon Carver, and Zhongli.
One gifted staves, another presented high-tier SlashBlades, and another provided tamed dragon mounts.
From alchemical draughts to Totems of Undying, she was overwhelmed with gifts.
On her very first afternoon in the realm, Shenhe had reached end-game gear without lifting a finger, leaving Baizhu and the newcomers green with envy.
Such was the privilege of an unshakeable family lineage.
Even Changsheng, though remaining in her serpentine form, had received several casting staves due to her ancient friendship with the adepti of Chenyu Vale.
Since the serpent had little fondness for martial violence, she had passed those wands to Baizhu to level on her behalf.
Though Baizhu appeared to carry multiple wands upon his belt, only a single staff belonged to him personally.
He burned with intense enthusiasm for the arcane arts. If fortune permitted, he desperately wished to contend for the newly minted Gnosis of Healing.
Who would ever turn down extra wands?
In earlier weeks, leveling was agonizingly slow due to a shortage of hostile entities. Now that an ocean of experience was knocking at their gates, passing up the feast was unthinkable.
Hearing Ei's suggestion, Ryen smiled warmly, tossing her a playful look.
"Since my lovely wife has issued the directive, I must naturally see it through."
A faint blush touched Ei's cheeks, giving his forearm a subtle, affectionate pinch.
"Speak properly; my sister is standing right beside us."
"Pay me no mind; I find your happiness delightful," Makoto replied with a gentle, blooming smile, watching her twin with deep, maternal warmth.
What could bring greater peace than seeing family reunited, watching her beloved sister find a cherished sanctuary?
Ryen laughed softly, taking Ei's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Ei speaks with sound tactical reasoning."
"Leveling wands is normally a grinding chore, making this cataclysm an invaluable asset."
"The evolutionary pace of the horde is gradual. Conservatively speaking, we enjoy a safe window of roughly twenty days."
"Across these next three weeks, we can comfortably sit upon our ramparts and farm progression without peril. Squeezing every ounce of utility from these rotting corpses is the proper course."
"Stockpiling a large reserve of maxed-out Advanced Wands will serve our armies well."
"After all, once your proficiencies hit their caps, leaving them stalled at the advanced tier indefinitely is an inefficient compromise."
The commanders nodded in complete agreement.
Ryen pondered the crafting requirements, tapping his chin thoughtfully.
"Securing Arcane Tomes presents a minor obstacle. Burning intact spellbooks to craft foundational tomes is a rather extravagant expenditure."
"Yet it remains achievable."
"Mass manufacturing wands normally requires an Imbuement Altar, but that produces only baseline apprentice tools."
"To harvest Advanced Wands in bulk without grinding from scratch, our only paths are bartering with wandering wizards in their towers or mounting expeditions into the Twilight Forest."
"Yet for safety reasons, deploying personnel into the Twilight Forest during an active siege is strictly prohibited."