Genshin x Minecraft: Building the Temple of Virtue

The Lantern Rite banquet had been underway for less than thirty minutes.

The guests were treated to a spectacle of absolute absurdity. Venti and Kaeya had consumed alcohol with zero restraint, their faces flushing a deep, splotchy crimson in the blink of an eye.

What followed defied all logic. Venti clung desperately to Diluc’s leg, slurring his intention to bow and acknowledge Diluc as his adoptive father. Meanwhile, Kaeya gripped Diluc’s arm, weeping and demanding that Diluc bow to him to become his adoptive son.

Within half an hour, Diluc had somehow acquired both a father and a son.

The courtyard fell into a stunned silence, broken only by the rapid, rhythmic clicking of Kamera shutters. Once Venti and Kaeya sobered up and saw these photographs, they might actually vow never to touch another drop of alcohol for the rest of their lives.

Diluc drew in a sharp, shuddering breath, his knuckles turning white. He grabbed the Anemo Archon and the Cavalry Captain by the backs of their collars, dragged them to the periphery of the plaza, and dropped them onto the stone tiles. He bound them securely with lead ropes. To guarantee they could not break free and inflict further humiliation upon him, he rapidly constructed a thick perimeter of Obsidian blocks around them.

Observing this catastrophic loss of dignity, the remaining guests carefully lowered their glasses. Even Beidou and Dehya ceased their aggressive toasting and picked up their chopsticks to eat.

Ryen rarely partook in heavy drinking. He disliked the taste, and with his wives present, numbing his senses felt like a waste of a beautiful evening. Furthermore, with Klee and the other children watching, he needed to maintain a proper posture.

Zhongli took a slow sip of his tea. His amber eyes did not track the brilliant fireworks exploding overhead. Instead, his gaze lingered quietly on the ancient friends gathered around him.

A short distance away, Skybracer was animatedly boasting to Moon Carver about the magnificent curvature of his antlers. Mountain Shaper and Sea Gazer stood shoulder-to-shoulder, discussing a future stroll through the mortal streets of Liyue Harbor.

Cloud Retainer and Madame Ping were locked in a heated debate over who held the title of superior master. Cloud Retainer pointed a sharp finger, claiming she had not only raised Ganyu but also molded Shenhe into a formidable warrior. Madame Ping merely scoffed, countering that Cloud Retainer had overfed Ganyu in her youth and caused Shenhe to become chronically antisocial. By contrast, she had raised Xiangling and Yaoyao to be bright, culinary prodigies. The title of Liyue’s premier teacher clearly belonged to her.

The Yakshas were equally unruly. Bosacius, heavily flushed from the liquor, kept bringing his massive, fan-like hand down onto Xiao’s back in booming slaps. Each strike caused Xiao to violently cough up the wine he had just swallowed. Menogias scolded Bosacius sharply, but the multi-armed Yaksha ignored him entirely, leaning in to drunkenly lecture Xiao about how real men must bear the heavy burdens of life.

The Jade Adeptus sat with Changsheng draped across her shoulders. The white snake had regained both her memories and her life force. While the reunion had initially brought her peace, the Jade Adeptus’s relentless, erratic teasing was clearly beginning to test the serpent’s patience.

Bonanus and Indarias huddled close, whispering and giggling behind their hands. Dieyun and Pervases loudly played a drinking game. Qingjiu and Zhongjue shared a quiet, romantic exchange.

The plaza was packed with Adepti. It mirrored the rare, stolen moments of respite they shared in Jueyun Karst during the Archon War. Yet, the atmosphere was fundamentally different. The scent of blood was gone. The constant, crushing dread of impending death had vanished.

Zhongli’s gaze drifted downward. On the streets below, Guoba was waddling frantically after Xiangling, trying to catch a better view of the fireworks.

He looked toward Ryen. Guizhong sat beside him, engaged in a conversation with Ningguang, her cheeks dusting with a soft, peach-colored blush.

”They have all returned.”

The perpetually stoic, unchanging lines of Zhongli’s face softened entirely. A profound warmth swelled in his amber eyes as he looked up at the moon. The moon was perfectly round tonight, yet its completeness paled in comparison to the restored ranks of the Adepti. It was outshone by the brilliant Beacons piercing the sky from the Jade Chamber.

Liyue burned brighter than the heavens.

”I wish to buy osmanthus wine...” Zhongli murmured softly. ”Yet my friends are here, and the nation knows peace. There is nothing left to sigh over.”

His chest rose, pulling in a massive breath. ”Good! Drink!”

A booming, unrestrained laugh tore from Zhongli’s throat, echoing across the plaza. The Adepti froze, their conversations dying instantly. In thousands of years, they had never heard the Geo Archon laugh with such raw, unbridled relief.

They did not know what prompted it, but smiles quickly spread across their faces as they hoisted their cups.

”My old friends,” Zhongli’s voice rang out, clear and powerful. ”Drain your cups! To Liyue, and to our reunion!”

He tilted his head back and emptied his glass in a single motion. The Adepti followed suit, the clinking of glasses creating a rhythmic melody.

No one understood the weight of this reclaimed joy better than Zhongli. To ensure Liyue’s survival across millennia, he had watched piece after piece of his heart wither and fade. Now, everything he treasured most had been placed back into his hands.

During the Lantern Rite, amidst an era of absolute prosperity, they had returned. They could witness the magnificent civilization their sacrifices had built. Was there anything in this world more worthy of celebration?

This reality surpassed the wildest, most desperate dreams Zhongli had ever allowed himself to harbor.

The steady, immovable God of Contracts reached down and sharply pinched his own leg, ensuring this was not a fleeting illusion. The sting confirmed it. The light in his eyes burned even brighter.

”A perfect moon, a thriving nation.”

Zhongli turned toward Ryen, his gaze locking onto him. He raised his cup slowly. ”My friend, to you!”

”Thank you for returning what I lost. Thank you for showing me a prosperous Liyue, one that no longer requires my absolute protection.”

Ryen chuckled, picking up his own glass. ”In my hometown, we have a saying for moments like this. ’It is all in the wine.’”

Zhongli paused, then a broad smile broke across his face again. ”Indeed. It is all in the wine.”

They raised their glasses to one another and drank.

This grand toast acted as a catalyst.

A sharp, rhythmic clinking echoed from the Obsidian tomb Diluc had constructed nearby. The crowd stared. A second later, the impenetrable black stone cracked and shattered.

Venti stumbled out of the rubble, his eyes half-closed. He clutched a Diamond Pickaxe in his left hand. With his right, he pulled a fresh bottle from his inventory, popped the cork with his teeth, and swayed toward Ryen.

”Drink!” the Anemo Archon slurred. He tilted his head back, pouring the liquid down his throat.

The guests broke into a cold sweat. Venti had clearly lost all higher brain function, yet his physical form continued to aggressively consume alcohol. Seconds later, with the bottle still clamped between his teeth, a loud snore ripped from his nose. His knees buckled, and he collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Diluc took a deep, shuddering breath. A visible vein throbbed on his temple. He turned to Ryen, his voice deathly flat. ”May I borrow some Bedrock?”

Ryen burst out laughing, waving his hand as he took another sip of water.

Diluc ultimately refrained from permanently sealing the bard in an unbreakable tomb. He simply dragged Venti back to his spot, bound him tighter, and reinforced the Obsidian walls with three extra layers.

The chaotic display brought a lighthearted ease back to the tables.

Makoto leaned over, picking up several choice cuts of meat with her chopsticks and placing them into Ei’s and the Shogun’s bowls. ”Do not drink on an empty stomach. It is bad for your health.”

Ei paused, her chopsticks hovering over her bowl. She kept her chin tucked. ”I am a god, Sister.”

”God or not, you must take care of yourself,” Makoto chided gently, a soft smile on her lips.

Ei did not reply. The shadow of her bangs fell over her eyes, completely concealing the rapid blinking and the moisture pooling on her lower lashes. She had dreamed of this simple, mundane family dinner for five hundred agonizing years. Her most precious treasure was sitting right beside her.

”I must offer a toast to you as well, Ryen.”

The Tsaritsa set her cutlery down. She raised her crystalline glass, her icy blue eyes locking onto his. ”Because of you, my grand campaign against the Heavenly Principles has hope. You provided a path for Snezhnaya to survive what was originally a guaranteed suicide mission. Thank you, Ryen.”

Ryen smirked, swirling the liquid in his cup. ”Is the plan to line up and try to drink me under the table?”

The Tsaritsa’s lips curved upward. ”You are welcome to interpret it that way.”

Ryen shrugged and downed his glass. For the Archons and Vision bearers, purging alcohol required channeling elemental energy. Ryen possessed no such energy, nor would he waste Imaginary Energy on a hangover. However, his base physical constitution was built to endure the weight of an entire world. A few bottles of wine barely registered in his system. Put simply, he had never experienced intoxication.

”In that case, allow me to offer my toast as well.”

Diluc stood up abruptly, his posture rigid and formal. ”Thank you for elevating Mondstadt to its current strength. Thank you for granting me the power to personally execute The Doctor. For both my nation and my personal vengeance, I owe you this drink.”

Jean blinked, a flash of guilt crossing her face. As Acting Grand Master, she should have initiated the toast on behalf of Mondstadt. She placed her hands on the table, preparing to stand, but Lisa placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

”Jean can express her gratitude to Ryen using a different method,” Lisa murmured, her eyes glinting with mischief.

”A different method?” Jean asked blankly. Then, catching the predatory nuance in Lisa’s gaze, Jean’s face flushed violently. She lowered her head, remaining firmly in her seat.

Diluc, meanwhile, was clearly in high spirits. The typically reserved aristocrat not only initiated a toast but proceeded to down an entire bottle in one go. Predictably, his face flushed a deep red instantly. He sat back down heavily, staring blankly at the table.

”I suppose it is our turn,” Kamisato Ayato said smoothly, rising with his cup. ”Thank you for orchestrating the Almighty Shogun’s return and stabilizing Inazuma. Our people live in peace. That is the greatest gift our nation could ask for.”

Ei looked up, meeting Ryen’s gaze silently. To Ryen, utilizing Totems of Undying was a trivial matter of inventory management. To Ei, it was the restoration of her soul. She had a complete family again. She had her gentle sister back.

Ryen chuckled, shaking his head. ”It seems none of you plan to stop until I fall over.”

From the adjacent table, Aether stood up. His expression was devoid of his usual sharp pragmatism. ”Given your constitution, I doubt you can be intoxicated. Regardless, please accept the gratitude of Khaenri’ah.”

The entire Khaenri’ahn delegation rose in perfect unison, their posture ramrod straight.

”For the other five nations, you provided military supremacy and the restoration of lost loved ones,” Aether said, his voice carrying clearly over the night breeze. ”But for Khaenri’ah, your world brought the continuation of our very existence.”

”Since the Heavenly Principles eradicated our homeland, every Khaenri’ahn has dreamed of restoration. Yet, deep down, we lacked certainty. We knew we were no longer human. We were cursed monsters. How could a legion of beasts rebuild the proud, human nation of Khaenri’ah?”

Aether gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles whitening. ”Perhaps, from your perspective as the Lord of the World, you merely saw a realm in need of civilization, and we fit the criteria. But to my people, this is the grace of rebirth.”

”You stripped away the curse. We walk as humans once more. We have fertile land to reclaim our sovereignty and ignite the fires of our civilization. We have a future.”

Aether raised his glass high. ”For Khaenri’ah, this is a debt beyond measure. Every son and daughter of Khaenri’ah will carve your name into their souls for eternity.”

Aether tilted his head back, and the entire delegation downed their drinks in absolute synchrony.

His words carried the heavy, unvarnished truth of a desperate people. For Teyvat’s current powers, the Minecraft world was a strategic asset. For Khaenri’ah, it was salvation. A shattered, cursed empire had been handed a blank canvas to paint their future.

Land, humanity, a nation. Everything that was stolen had been returned.

They no longer chased the phantom dream of reclaiming a ruined abyss. They were building a real home. The Minecraft world was the bedrock of Khaenri’ah’s new dawn.