Liyue
Monsters surged endlessly from the depths of The Chasm, as if carried upward along the very leylines themselves.
The Abyss poured out like a flood; the Millelith escorted civilians to safety while the Liyue Qixing issued immediate orders to contain and suppress the threat.
Though Rex Lapis was absent, the adepti stood guard.
With their protection, the Millelith barely managed to keep the abominations from reaching the people.
Before marching out, the Millelith and the Yaksha who fought beside them raised a toast with the Oathsworn Golden Chalice.
Their generals donned helmets of command, adorned with Feathered Plumes of Martial Glory.
The moment they stepped into the lightless abyss, ready to face the twisted creations of the Abyss, their lives no longer belonged to themselves.
Deep within the bottomless black of the Chasm, countless brave warriors left their bones behind.
Those tainted by karmic burden—or struck down in the chaos of slaughter—quietly recorded their final battles upon the Gilt Bronze Sundial, so that the light of the sun and moon could guide them, even in a land where daylight never shone.
Even now, with Liyue threatened by overwhelming darkness, this sundial allowed them to remember warmth—to remember daylight.
With disciplined rhythm, one battalion would withdraw, and another would step forward to take its place.
So it continued, wave after wave, deeper and deeper.
For the Millelith, dying for the people was an honor—
Even if no one remembered their names.
Their noble sacrifice would one day bloom into the Flower of Commemoration, inherited proudly by the descendants who lived because of their courage.
Five hundred years in the future, when Liyue's people would one day uncover the golden chalice and plumes from the Abyss, they would discover that even after centuries buried in corruption, these relics were untouched—unbroken, unstained, unsullied.
Mondstadt
Not only Liyue—Mondstadt, too, acted swiftly.
Grand Master Arundolyn, the Lion of Light, rallied the Knights of Favonius.
Rustan, the Young Wolf, led a division outward to meet the threat head-on.
Among all seven nations, Mondstadt responded with the greatest speed.
Centuries without their Anemo Archon had taught them self-reliance; even facing catastrophe, they held fast.
That was—until a terrifying black dragon descended upon Mondstadt.
It brought plague.
It brought poison.
It brought despair.
At last, the East Wind Dragon, Dvalin, could not bear the suffering of the people under his protection. He requested permission to take the skies—and the battle between two great dragons began.
Curiously, the invading dragon—Durin—rarely attempted to fight back.
Most of the time, it simply fled, roaring desperately as if begging Dvalin to understand that it meant no harm.
But Durin could not speak.
Without a way to communicate, the battle ended only when Dvalin tore open its throat.
With a sorrowful cry, Durin fell upon the snow-covered mountain that would one day be known as Dragonspine.
His mother had told him that the world was beautiful—
That people were kind—
That he would play joyfully among them.
Yet as his vision dimmed and his blood soaked into the ice, Durin felt only confusion.
Why…
Why was the world nothing like what Mother promised?
No one would ever answer him.
And his final regret…
was simply that he never had the chance to befriend the beautiful azure dragon soaring victoriously above him.
As snow slowly buried Durin's corpse, his blood seeped into the earth beneath.
Beside him, a long-dead ancient tree stirred faintly—
A new, fragile breath of life awakening within it.
Barely detectable.
But real.
Khaenri'ah
Meanwhile, the fallen kingdom drowned beneath an endless tide of monsters.
Days and nights blurred together in ceaseless battle.
Only Luo Li fought with effortless composure; the Seven Archons each showed signs of strain.
"Luo Li… Let's regroup with the others."
Raiden Makoto's voice carried quiet worry.
She did not know his limits, and though they were stable for now, no one could predict what would come next.
Working together with the remaining gods would ease the overwhelming assault.
Luo Li considered briefly, then nodded.
"Alright. Morax and Barbatos are closest—we'll find them first."
They were old friends of thousands of years.
He would not allow harm to befall them if he could help it.
(Though, Luo Li mused idly, if Morax had stayed in his female form as the beautiful "Princess of the Earth," he might have attempted an entirely different kind of "collaboration"… but imagining that same person turning into Zhongli killed the mood instantly.)
With an arm around Makoto's waist, he raised two fingers like a blade.
In the next moment, a thunderous streak of light carved open a corridor across the battlefield—
Ten kilometers of terrain erased beneath a sea of lightning.
High-temperature plasma burned monsters into drifting charcoal.
Seeing this excessive display, Morax and Barbatos immediately moved toward him.
Anyone could tell: if each of them had to handle the same number of enemies alone, why not regroup and split the burden?
Within minutes, the three joined forces.
Luo Li then released the compressed mass of the simulated black hole, allowing its infinite density to unravel.
The resulting explosion was beyond catastrophic.
In an instant—
The earth evaporated.
The ground for over a hundred meters down was reduced to vapor.
Mountains trembled; clouds shattered; the shockwaves tore through the sky.
A crater of unimaginable scale scarred the land—
As if a star had fallen upon Teyvat.
Over a hundred kilometers felt the quake.
The dust rose like a new horizon.
Hundreds of thousands of monsters were obliterated in one strike.
It was like splashing pure white paint across a pitch-black canvas—
Erasing everything.
Even far-off nations felt the faint tremors of the land.
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