Watching Ei look up at her with eyes full of quiet, unspoken admiration, Makoto found it impossible to voice a refusal.
After a long pause, she let out a gentle sigh and turned her gaze toward the Divine Priestess. "Kokomi, go ahead and allocate one billion Mora for Ei's training budget."
Kokomi smiled, nodding softly in assent.
One billion Mora was a staggering sum that the old Inazuma might have struggled to produce, but the nation's economy had been robust and stable for a long time now. Such a figure wouldn't even require a draw from the Shogunate's main treasury; her own Watatsumi Island coffers could absorb the cost without a ripple.
Furthermore, everyone knew Ei had touched the absolute pinnacle of martial intent long ago. As Zhongli had noted, she was now separated from a true understanding of the fundamental "Dao" by a mere thread. What she lacked was an epiphany, a single catalyst born from combat. If she could clear the fog in her own mind, her strength would soar, giving Inazuma a fighting chance against Liyue in the upcoming grand finals.
At the very least, they wouldn't end up like Mondstadt, swarming an opponent with numbers only to watch a single man nearly dismantle their entire vanguard alone.
In truth, it wasn't even a "nearly." Had Zhongli not chosen to show off and experiment with unorthodox mechanical plays during the exhibition, he could have leveled Mondstadt's defenses single-handedly. Against a master of the absolute martial path, standard numbers lost their meaning.
The delegates from the other nations watched the exchange with shifting expressions. Inazuma was a unique case; they possessed both Ei and the Shogun, two forces who could collectively stall Zhongli's momentum, even if they couldn't guarantee a victory. But the remaining nations lacked any such anchor. If the grand tournament proceeded under these conditions, the matches would turn into a slaughter.
This was a looming headache for commanders like Jean, but Venti clearly didn't share the anxiety.
The bard gave a light huff, tossing his head back with an air of theatrical defiance. "This was merely a friendly warm-up, an exhibition to test the waters. I have a vast treasury of legendary strategies that I simply chose to withhold today. Just wait for the official matches; I'll give you a show you won't forget."
Zhongli took a slow sip of his tea, his expression unruffled. He did not dispute the claim directly, choosing instead to offer a mild observation. "If that is the case, old friend, why did you feel compelled to borrow Liyue's fishing-rod techniques?"
Venti bristled instantly, his braids trembling. "Who said we copied you? There is no law stating Liyue holds a monopoly on standard twine! Besides, using a fishing rod to pull a teammate out of the void was a trick Ryen demonstrated first! If we're talking about lineage, we learned it from him. He was the one who fished Xiao out of thin air!"
Xiao's expression turned stiff. While it was a matter of historical record, having the incident dragged into the light before the entire international assembly was an exercise in pure social mortification.
"Oh?" Zhongli looked at Venti, a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "My memory must be failing me. I don't recall you being present on the day Xiao was extracted."
Venti caught his breath, his words catching in his throat. He hemmed and hawed for a second before folding his arms. "I heard it from a story! A bard knows these things! Is there a rule against learning from prose?"
Realizing the grandfather of Liyue wasn't buying the defense, he quickly pivoted away from the argument. "Regardless, when the true finals begin, I will demonstrate what a flawless execution looks like."
"By universally accepted principles, I too have left several advanced methods unused," Zhongli countered smoothly, casting a calm glance across the table. "When the time comes, I shall ensure your horizons are properly broadened."
Venti clicked his tongue and looked away, dropping the matter entirely.
A few paces over, Barbara watched her deity with a deeply conflicted expression. Before arriving in this world, Jean and the others had warned her that the Anemo Archon was an eccentric figure who bore zero resemblance to the solemn, majestic entity described in the holy texts of the Church of Favonius. But Barbara had never anticipated a god could be this casual, this utterly devoid of divine gravity.
The pristine, golden image in her heart had shattered into dust. She found herself staring down a sudden theological crisis, wondering how she was supposed to lead the cathedral's prayers with a straight face from now on.
In all honesty, praying to the wind felt like a waste of breath when her own sister was standing right there.
She looked at Jean, who was currently frowning over her notebook, meticulously logging every tactical error and spatial metric from the match. Then she looked back at Venti, who was loudly exaggerating his mid-air grapple while bickering with Liyue's ancient master. Barbara decided right then and there that Jean was far better suited for the title of Anemo Archon.
Meanwhile, Childe looked positively radiant now that his paid duel with Zhongli had been formalized.
"Once I swap pointers with Zhongli, my martial comprehension will break through its current plateau," Childe boasted, casting a smug look toward his fellow Harbingers. He rolled his shoulders, his tone dripping with meaning. "It's a pity, really. No matter how perfectly I master the mechanics of Bedwars, there will always be anchors pulling the team down from behind."
"If certain individuals could have held the line for her Majesty just a fraction longer, or if a certain someone hadn't been clumsily dragged into the void by a dying defender... well, things would be different. The moment I brought those Sumeru resources back, we could have saturated the board with TNT. We wouldn't have won, sure, but we damn well wouldn't have been the second team erased."
The barb was so precise it didn't even need names attached. Scaramouche and Rosalyne's faces turned ashen.
Scaramouche stepped forward, his eyes boring into Childe. "Say that again. I dare you."
"I could say it eight hundred times and my point would still stand," Childe shot back, chin high, his posture shifting into a classic taunt. "A failure is a failure. We were pulled into the same mass of bodies, yet I had the spatial awareness to execute a wool clutch on the way down while you simply let gravity take you. Not only did I survive the drop, but I tunneled through the foundations and secured the Sumeru hoard right under the noses of three armies."
Scaramouche opened his mouth to snap back, but the words died on his tongue. The irritation burned in his chest, but he lacked the leverage to dispute the results.
Childe's performance had outclassed his own. They had been caught in the same desperate dogpile, Childe facing even greater numbers, yet the vanguard leader had saved himself, adapted to the terrain, and executed a flawless infiltration while the rest of the world was blind. It was a mechanical disparity Scaramouche had to accept, even if he attributed it entirely to Childe having spent more hours logging data in this world. Given the same entry timeline, he was certain he could replicate the feat.
"Enough. Drop the matter," the Tsaritsa commanded, her voice cutting through the tension like a frost wind. She looked at her subordinates. "Childe's recovery and subsequent infiltration were exceptional displays of mechanical adaptation. Rosalyne, Scaramouche, you will study his logs. For the upcoming cycle, Childe will assume the role of Chief Tactics Instructor for the Snezhnayan ranks, overseeing the training of our core units."
Childe's grin widened as he bowed. "With pleasure, Your Majesty."
Over with the Sumeru delegation, Alhaitham remained perfectly composed. Their early elimination was a logical outcome given their late integration into the system. However, he was already drawing up plans to have Tighnari and Dehya assist him in compiling a comprehensive theoretical treatise on spatial combat. When the true finals arrived, Sumeru would not be the first name crossed off the board.
Seeing that the post-game chatter was beginning to spin in circles, Ryen clapped his hands twice, drawing the room's focus.
"Let's formalize the review," he said, his voice dropping into his standard commentary tone. "The opening strategies today were remarkable. Even for an exhibition match, we witnessed several high-level mechanical sequences that every nation should study and build upon. This match proved that Bedwars is fundamentally a game of macro-strategy, and the meta is wide open."
"Moving forward, your immediate priority will be your domestic ranked leaderboards. Each nation will oversee its own internal qualifiers to select their top one hundred soldiers for the grand finals. You may organize the timelines and regional venues as you see fit."
The moment the brief ended, Eula raised her hand, her expression tight with dissatisfaction. "I have a point of order regarding competitive integrity."
The room turned to her. Eula adjusted her gauntlet, her tone measured. "The base attributes shared through the system are identical, yes. But the disparity introduced by raw martial comprehension is too massive to balance. To put it plainly: Zhongli can breach a frontline by himself. If Liyue deploys their old guard, the rest of the nations are playing for second place. How does the system intend to account for this?"
A murmur of agreement ran through the Mondstadt and Inazuma lines. Rosalyne stepped forward to reinforce the point. "There is also the matter of numerical disparity among the elite tiers. Liyue does not simply possess Rex Lapis; they have the Yaksha, Madame Ping, Azhdaha, and the entire Adeptal assembly. Their roster of martial elites outnumbers the rest of the world combined. Snezhnaya can only field a handful of individuals capable of operating at that level. The numbers render the competition void before the first block is placed."
Hu Tao rolled her eyes, leaning back against her staff. "Hah? Since when is having a deep roster a crime? Are we supposed to apologize for having reliable elders?"
"It is not a crime," Rosalyne replied, her gaze freezing over as she looked at the director. "But it destroys the balance of an international tournament. If the outcome is predetermined by raw historical weight, the exercise loses its utility."
Ryen raised a hand, lowering the temperature in the room with a faint smile. "Rosalyne makes a valid point. Let's adjust the parameters for the main event."
"The grand finals cannot follow the restricted format of this exhibition. We need a larger presence on the board to make it a true spectacle, which means more elite units will be allowed to field. However, to preserve competitive balance, we need to address the Archon tier. Zhongli's individual output is indeed an anomaly within this mechanical framework."
"Furthermore, we must consider unique traits. Zhongli can manifest the Jade Shield to alter overall defensive values, while Venti can command the currents to manipulate agility parameters. Ei and the Tsaritsa undoubtedly possess their own localized army buffs."
Ryen tapped the table. "The solution is simple."
"The Sovereigns and Archons will be barred from active deployment on the field. Instead, you will function as stationary team Beacons within your respective home territories, providing structural and attribute modifiers to your forces from the base."
Venti's jaw dropped, his eyes widening in pure betrayal. "You're turning us into glorified status totems?!"
"That is the technical definition, yes," Ryen said with a shrug.
"Tragic!" Venti slumped into his chair, looking thoroughly defeated. "I actually wanted to play this time!"
"You are playing," Ryen countered. "Your presence dictates your army's mobility metrics."
Venti threw his hands up. "That's not what I mean! I wanted to actually change the terrain, "
Ryen extended his palms, his tone shifting to a blunt, deadpan flat. "The rule is absolute. If you insist on setting foot on the field, the restriction lifts for everyone. If you march, Zhongli and Ei march alongside you. The choice is yours."
Venti froze. The protest died in his throat.
An active deployment meant Zhongli and Ei would be unleashed without constraints. After analyzing today's data, he knew for a fact that the moment the rules allowed it, those two would personally spearhead a total sweep of the board. Venti had zero desire to test his hand-to-hand combat metrics against the Lord of Geo or the Shadow of Inazuma within a closed arena.
After a long, moody silence, the bard sighed. "Fine. I'll stay at the base."
Ryen snapped his fingers. "The restriction stands. Any further objections?"
Ei and the Tsaritsa exchanged a quiet look before nodding their assent. It was a compromise that favored the overall stability of the tournament. In truth, even Ei preferred a scenario where Zhongli was legally bound to his platform. Even if her recent insights had brought her closer to a true breakthrough, matching a warrior who had spent millennia refining his path within the crucible of the Archon War was a calculation that didn't favor Inazuma.
"With the Archons restricted, we still have the issue of Liyue's elite volume," Ryen continued, tapping his chin as he surveyed the room. The sheer number of Adepti was undeniable; their roster alone could match the combined elite forces of the other four nations. But a grand tournament without its legendary figures would lack flavor.
After a brief calculation, Ryen's lips curled into a sharp, knowing smile. "To solve the roster deficit for the other nations, the system will officially introduce the Outsider Liaison clause."
"A liaison?"
In the corner of the gallery, Aether's posture straightened, his interest piqued. If the rules permitted external recruitment, he wouldn't have to wait for the next annual cycle. He could assemble a detachment and enter the field before the current season closed.