Ryen's words cast a heavy shadow over the courtyard.
Ningguang and the others straightened their postures, exchanging tight, anxious glances with Guizhong and Ei. The two women offered slow, reluctant nods, confirming the grim truth of his report.
The quiet garden grew stifling.
Ningguang firmly pulled her hand from Ryen's grasp, her amber eyes hardening.
"Business first. The teasing can wait."
Ryen clicked his tongue, pressing his lips together.
"Putting it plainly... our powder and brass consumption tonight exceeded our calculated threshold by forty percent."
"Forty percent?!"
Ningguang's voice spiked, her usual composure fracturing for a fraction of a second.
The others might not fully grasp the terrifying weight of that number, but as the primary overseer of the alliance's supplies, the figure struck her like a physical blow.
The munitions reserves were a meticulously tallied sum of every bullet and explosive shell currently held within the block world. To guarantee the line held, every single round had been strictly rationed across the seven days of the siege.
Even though the foundries were operating constantly, their output could not match the blistering rate of fire.
Burning an excess of forty percent on the very first night meant eating directly into tomorrow's lifeblood.
In brutal terms, the powder would run dry before the week ended.
A single night's overrun was manageable. But if the deficit repeated tomorrow, and the day after... no hidden cache could sustain that rhythm.
The mutants no longer burned beneath the morning sun; burying them required cold steel and hot lead.
If the guns fell silent, the infantry would be forced into melee combat against an endless sea of rotting flesh. The casualty count would skyrocket.
Ningguang's brow furrowed deep. After a heavy silence, she kept her voice low.
"Ryen, what happened? Why did the line burn through so much powder?"
"The battlefield shifted." Ryen shook his head.
"Simply put, the Blood Moon birthed a unique variant. That single creature is entirely responsible for the drain on our magazines."
"It possessed sapience. A commanding variant capable of directing the horde."
"It transformed a mindless mob of corpses into a disciplined, marching army."
"Rest easy, however. The creature has been eradicated."
Ryen cast a glance toward Guizhong, who smoothly picked up the thread, detailing the night's horrors to the assembly.
In truth, the black variant had soaked up the vast majority of their firepower. Recognizing the apocalyptic threat of an intelligent commander, the high command had mutually agreed it could not be allowed to survive the night.
Consequently, the redstone cannons and heavy machine guns had poured an ocean of lead entirely in its direction.
Yet the creature had proven cunning. It summoned thousands of lesser mutants, using their rotting bodies as a living, shifting wall to absorb the barrage. While the resulting slaughter was immense, nearly thirty percent of the night's total ammunition was spent purely attempting to punch through its meat shield.
Even then, the variant nearly slipped into the tree line. It required Ryen unsheathing the Heaven Fallen Longbow to finally vaporize it.
Despite the steep cost in powder, executing the commander made the trade worthwhile. Allowing such a creature to escape into the darkness to amass a larger, more organized host would have invited absolute ruin.
An organized ambush later in the week would have shattered the obsidian walls.
Killing it had proven agonizingly difficult. Sniper fire was intercepted by leaping drones. When TNT shells rained down, the variant ordered its subordinates to rapidly stack blocks and form a bunker of flesh and stone to absorb the blast.
It was only the homing, cluster-splitting light of the cosmic arrows that finally caught it off guard. Otherwise, Zhongli would have been forced to send a strike team beyond the gates.
As Guizhong finished her recount, the gravity of the siege settled over the women.
A leaderless horde was merely a hazard; given enough time, the garrison could chew through them at their leisure. But a horde marching to the beat of a singular will...
That transformed the rotting tide into an authentic, conquering army.
"No wonder the magazines ran so low..."
Ningguang murmured, her fingers massaging her temples.
"Looking at the whole board, spending an extra forty percent to ensure its death was a stroke of fortune."
"The true terror of this final Blood Moon is not their immunity to the sun, but their capacity for leadership..."
"The fortress is facing a storm far darker than we anticipated."
"The crucial question remains. Was this black variant a unique anomaly born of tonight's moon, or will the coming days..."
"Will we face a new commander every single night?"
Ryen gave a grim nod.
"That exact concern is currently haunting the high command. If a black variant steps onto the field every dusk..."
"Setting aside the genuine risk of a perimeter breach, our powder reserves simply cannot sustain the necessary suppression fire."
"Its tactical formations were crude, relying heavily on swarming the walls."
"Yet it perfectly exploited the physical rules of the block world."
"It ordered a detachment to plunge into the molten trenches and tunnel upward to bypass our frontline."
"It used living shields to absorb our artillery."
"Its intellect was undeniable..."
Ryen paused, choosing to swallow the darkest of his theories.
The true nightmare was not merely the daily emergence of a commander. It was the possibility that each subsequent variant would possess greater intellect and flawless tactical control over the swarm.
"Let me think..."
Ningguang breathed out a long sigh. Her amber eyes lost their usual sharp focus as she rubbed her thumb over her knuckles in rare, visible agitation.
Her hand drifted instinctively toward her side, seeking the familiar weight of her old smoking pipe.
Ryen had always expressed a distaste for the habit, even though her pipe was packed with medicinal, mind-clearing herbs rather than true tobacco. Out of affection, she had dutifully set it aside.
In the prosperous months that followed, with Liyue flourishing and the block world providing endless bounty, she had found no reason to rely on the crutch.
Now, faced with a crisis that threatened to burn everything they had built, the old craving flared.
Yet, feeling Ryen's quiet, watchful gaze upon her, she forced her hand back to her lap, suppressing the urge through sheer willpower.
After a tense moment, Ningguang shook her head.
"I have not laid eyes upon this creature. I cannot formulate a counter-strategy blind. Ryen, how does the vanguard intend to proceed?"
Ryen smiled softly, reaching out to gently smooth her hair.
"The obstacle is steep, but hardly insurmountable. Put the powder reserves out of your mind."
"We will tighten our fire discipline and preserve the heavy munitions for the dense swarms."
"As for the black variant... Zhongli has authorized a decapitation strike."
"Xiao will lead a vanguard of our swiftest, most lethal polearm masters. The moment a commander reveals itself, Xiao's detachment will dive into the fray and sever its head."
"Once the general falls, the horde reverts to a mindless rabble. Our troops are more than capable of grinding them to dust."
Lisa pressed her lips into a thin line, her elegant features clouded with dismay.
"A decapitation strike... To pierce through a sea of undead solely to reach the center... the difficulty borders on the impossible."
"It is an outright suicide charge."
"Even if Xiao lands the killing blow, he will be instantly swallowed by tens of thousands of rotting corpses. There is no route of retreat."
"They are not fighting on the plains of Teyvat, where an adeptus can sweep away an army with a flick of his wrist."
"In that realm, the laws of physics are ruthlessly equal."
Ryen remained silent, offering a single, heavy nod.
Lisa gasped, staring at him in profound disbelief.
"Zhongli... has he truly commanded Xiao to throw his life away against that creature?"
Ryen sighed heavily.
"It is a bitter necessity. In our native world, a sovereign warrior could isolate and obliterate such a commander with ease."
"But beneath the Blood Moon, martial supremacy has strict limits."
"Diving into a swarm of over a hundred thousand... Xiao and his team have a ninety percent probability of perishing on the field."
"Yet leaving the variant alive guarantees a catastrophic breach of Redstone Tech City."
"Mutual destruction... is the optimal play."
"The decision weighed heavily upon Zhongli's soul. If a superior path existed, do you truly believe he would order his most loyal yaksha to march to his death?"
"Our magazines simply cannot endure another night of suppression fire like the one we just delivered."
"Weighing the survival of the entire city against the lives of a few, it yields the highest probability of success for the lowest cost."
In raw, unvarnished terms, Xiao was assembling a death squad.
Once their boots hit the dirt, survival was entirely secondary. Their sole purpose was carving a path to the general.
Returning was a tactical impossibility. The black variant would be shielded by layers of dense muscle and bone; piercing that guard would be a miracle in itself, let alone fighting back out through a million clawing hands.
Amidst the deafening roar of artillery, the aerial dragon cavalry could not risk descending to extract them without being shot out of the sky by friendly fire.
As for relying on the Master Staves to preserve their lives... the protective spells possessed rigid durations. Against an endless, crushing tide, a barrier would shatter in moments.
Losing a priceless Master Staff in the mud would be an unacceptable catastrophic failure.
Ryen understood Zhongli's grim blueprint perfectly.
Xiao's team would strip away all excess gear. They would deploy armed only with hand grenades, polearms, and blocks of TNT.
They wouldn't even carry a surplus of Totems of Undying.
The dragon cavalry would drop them into the fray while the redstone cannons blasted a momentary clearing.
Upon landing, half the squad would hold the collapsing perimeter, while Xiao charged the general, planting the TNT and detonating it point-blank.
Bluntly speaking... they were acting as living bombs.
It was a brutal, desperate maneuver, purchasing the survival of the fortress with their blood.
For the grand preservation of the alliance, it was a worthy trade.
Yet the order would undoubtedly carve a deep, festering wound into Zhongli's conscience. Xiao was, after all, his most fiercely loyal, cherished yaksha.
"Ah..." Ningguang let out a soft, mournful breath.
"Issuing that command must have torn at Zhongli's heart..."
"Given the density of the swarm, a Totem of Undying is meaningless. Reviving on the exact spot where they fell only guarantees they will be ripped apart a second time."
"However... the Totems of Rebirth anchored within the city still hold ample charges. They will awaken safely behind the walls."
"It truly is the most sound tactical sacrifice."
Ryen gave a slow nod.
"It places an agonizing burden upon him. Even knowing death is not absolute in that realm, ordering a warrior he views as his own son to march into a meat grinder..."
"Watching Xiao blow himself to pieces will haunt Zhongli for days."
"But let us not surrender to despair just yet. The board remains clouded. We have no concrete proof that the black variant will return."
"If tonight was merely a fleeting anomaly, the bloody work is already done."
Unwilling to let the grim shadow of the siege suffocate the courtyard any longer, Ryen forced a warm, easy smile to his lips.
"Enough of this darkness. What were you all discussing before I arrived? I believe I caught the word 'migration'?"