The Tiger of Kai, Takeda Shingen, led his Red Armor Legion like a searing tide of iron, crushing all resistance that stood in their path across Mondstadt’s plains. The Knights of Favonius were routed in the initial, bloodiest field battles. Acting Grand Master Jean Gunnhildr retreated with her remaining troops and civilians into Mondstadt City, clinging to desperate defense behind the high walls of the City of Freedom, sustained by the city’s ramparts and the (perhaps) blessing of the Anemo Archon. Save for a handful of stubborn strongholds, the vast lands of Mondstadt had already fallen into enemy hands.

 

Shingen made no haste to launch an immediate all-out assault on Mondstadt City. A strategist well-versed in the precepts of Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain, he knew full well the importance of consolidating his foothold. The lands surrounding Mondstadt—especially the vast stretches linking Liyue’s trade routes and overlooking Dawn Winery—were wide and undeveloped. To Shingen, this was no barren wasteland, but a perfect canvas upon which to paint his grand military ambitions.

 

It was at this moment that one of his most brilliant generals emerged: Toyotomi Hideyoshi, a man as radiant as the rising sun, yet crafty and possessed of astounding drive and resolve. He put forth a plan bold enough to border on absurdity.

 

“My Lord Shingen,” Hideyoshi’s ever-smiling face blazed with excitement, “Mondstadt’s plains stretch endless and empty—ideal ground to raise fortresses and secure our base. Grant me but one night. Only one night, and I shall raise a new castle of the Takeda clan standing tall upon this land!”

 

Shingen stroked his goatee, his sharp gaze weighing Hideyoshi’s words. He knew this man’s gift for turning the impossible into reality. “One night? Kinoshita… no, Toyotomi. You know this is no trivial jest. Succeed, and our rear shall be secure. Fail, and our morale will shatter.”

 

“I shall not fail you, my Lord!” Hideyoshi bowed deeply.

 

And so, an unprecedented miracle of construction unfolded across Teyvat under the cover of night. Toyotomi Hideyoshi unleashed his unmatched talent for organization and mobilization. He commanded a massive corps of engineers, enlisted countless surrendered and conscripted Mondstadt laborers, and even bent to his will Teyvat’s native elemental lifeforms: Hilichurl Rock Shamans capable of hauling boulders, and Ruin Guards controlled by special talismans. Tirelessly they swung their colossal arms, serving as living cranes.

 

Flames lit up the night sky as bright as day. Chants, the thud of rammed earth, and the scrape of cutting timber wove together into a grand, peculiar symphony. Figures swarmed like weaving threads, carts and horses flowed like dragons, elemental radiance blending with mortal sweat. Standing atop a makeshift command platform, Shingen gazed upon the bustling worksite, a look of satisfaction in his eyes. He saw order, efficiency, and above all, Hideyoshi’s almost magical gift for turning chaos into creation.

 

When the first pale glow of dawn streaked the eastern sky, Mondstadt’s plains had been transformed beyond recognition.

 

Where once lay empty wilderness, castles rose like bamboo shoots after rain—architecturally alien to Mondstadt, steeped in the distinct charm of Eastern Sengoku-era design. Imperfect and hastily built in places, their towering watchtowers, rugged stone ramparts, and winding moats left no doubt of their pure military purpose.

 

Escorted by his generals, Shingen rode forth to inspect the fruits of that single night.

 

Closest to Mondstadt City loomed Creed Citadel, the grandest of them all. Its lofty keep overlooked all lands below, a symbol of unassailable Takeda authority. At its flank stood Red Horse Castle, its walls painted ochre red and garrisoned by mounted cavalry, ready to surge forth like roaring flame. Takeda Maru, stouter in design yet unyieldingly fortified, stood as the clan’s maritime stronghold—though Mondstadt had no sea, it rose beside the lake, fitted with a harbor all the same. Further out lay Takami Castle guarding the highlands, Iwata Plain Castle controlling the crossroads of the plains, and Hiramachi Castle, a gentle lowland hub for regional supplies. More than ten new fortresses dotted the land, each supporting the other in formation, forging an enormous chain encircling and sealing off Mondstadt City.

 

“Magnificent! Splendid! Exemplary!” Shingen boomed three praises, his voice echoing across the morning air. “Toyotomi, you have not disappointed me! To raise such fortresses in a single night is nothing short of divine miracle!”

 

Hideyoshi bowed humbly, yet pride glinted in his eyes. “All honor belongs to Lord Shingen’s mighty prestige, and the valor of our warriors.”

 

“Issue my command!” Shingen waved his hand. “Dispatch troops to garrison each castle at once! Assign command to Baba Nobuharu, Takasaka Masanobu, Naitō Masatoyo and the rest! Let Mondstadt City become an isolated isle in the heart of the storm!”

 

Orders rang out unyielding. Red Armor cavalry and ashigaru foot soldiers marched swiftly to their new posts, banners fluttering, armor glinting.

 

To celebrate this unprecedented triumph and the miracle of overnight construction, Shingen decreed a grand feast within the inner keep of newly built Creed Citadel. Nestled deep within the compound was an open-air hot spring, its waters steaming and mist curling into the air. Discovered by Hideyoshi during the castle’s construction, this geothermal spring had been immediately integrated into the keep—a perfect retreat for Shingen to feast and reward his generals.

 

Night fell once more, yet the air within the citadel no longer hummed with frantic labor, but brimmed with the joy of victory and the rich aroma of wine and feast.

 

Clad only in loose yukata, Shingen stepped first into the warm spring. One by one, his most trusted generals—Yamagata Masakage, Baba Nobuharu, Takasaka Masanobu, Naitō Masatoyo, and the meritorious Toyotomi Hideyoshi—doffed their armor and joined him. The weariness of long campaigns and the previous night’s endless toil melted away in the steaming waters.

 

Along the spring’s edge, attendants had set up low tables laden with a lavish banquet. Gone were Mondstadt’s usual roasted meats and dandelion wine; in their place stood an authentic spread of Japanese cuisine. Exquisite lacquerware boxes held sashimi crafted from locally caught Teyvat fish—carefully vetted by army chefs as edible—sliced paper-thin to reveal tender pink and white flesh, paired with freshly grated wasabi and rich soy sauce. At the sushi counter, vinegared rice made from grain seized from Mondstadt’s farmlands was topped with fresh seafood and preserved delicacies. Large casks of sake were cracked open, their mellow rice fragrance mingling with the spring’s sulfur mist to craft a strange, soothing ambiance.

 

Shingen raised a heavy earthen sake cup, gazing around at the loyal men who had fought beside him through life and death. “Gentlemen! We crossed the sea to this foreign realm, endured bitter battles, and now claim our domain! Most of Mondstadt’s fertile lands are ours to hold! Thanks to Toyotomi’s overnight castle miracle, the Takeda clan stands firmly rooted here! This is heaven’s blessing, and the fruit of your unyielding valor! Now—drink deep!”

 

“To Lord Shingen!” The generals roared in unison, their voices shaking the rafters, draining their cups in one gulp.

 

Warmed by the spring’s heat and the sake’s glow, the stern warriors relaxed at last. Baba Nobuharu bit into a fatty tuna sushi, sighing in delight. “The fish of this foreign land is rich and succulent—no less fine than our homeland’s!”

 

Yamagata Masakage, commander of the Red Armor Legion, favored strong liquor. Downing cup after cup, his cheeks flushed, he declared boldly: “Once we breach Mondstadt City and capture the Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius, I shall pour sake for Lord Shingen from her very sword!”

 

Calm and composed, Takasaka Masanobu savored the delicate sweetness of sea bream sashimi, smiling softly. “With such fine food and wine, and this hot spring to soothe our bones, it feels as though we have returned to the spring days of Kai.”

 

Toyotomi Hideyoshi was the liveliest of all. He ate and drank heartily, refilling cups for Shingen and every senior lord, his witty tales sparking laughter across the gathering. He regaled them with anecdotes and close calls from the night’s construction: coaxing the lumbering Ruin Guards to obey, calming terrified Mondstadt laborers, and countless other tales that filled the air with mirth.

 

Leaning against the spring’s warm stone edge, Shingen let attendants refill his cup. He listened to his generals’ jovial chatter, staring up at the alien stars hanging in Teyvat’s sky, his heart swelling with boundless ambition. This continent of Teyvat, ruled by seven Archons and blessed with wondrous elemental power, was no different from the chaotic Sengoku era he knew—might makes right, and strategy wins wars. The Anemo Archon Barbatos? Word had it he slumbered long ago. Even should he wake, could his Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain army not stand against a god?

 

“Gentlemen,” Shingen spoke again, and the feast fell instantly silent, all eyes turning to him in reverence. “Mondstadt City is trapped like a turtle in a jar, yet we must not grow overconfident. We shall rest three days to replenish grain and supplies. Three days hence, I will stand atop the keep of Creed Citadel—and see the Takeda banner of Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain fly over every corner of Mondstadt City!”

 

“Hai!” The generals responded in thunderous unison, eyes blazing with the fire of conquest.

 

Steam continued to curl from the spring, sake fragrance lingering thick in the air, feasting and song lasting long into the night. Creed Citadel, the giant fortress risen in a single night, lay coiled like an iron behemoth upon Mondstadt’s soil. Its shadow already stretched far across the plains, falling over the distant city that once worshipped freedom. Takeda Shingen’s ambition burned as hot as the spring’s waters, ready to surge forth and engulf all of Teyvat. For Mondstadt, this night marked the longest, coldest darkness before the fall of freedom.

Author's Note: This chapter is based on real historical facts. After the September 18th Incident in 1931, the Japanese army invaded and occupied China's three northeastern provinces. They built a large number of Japanese-style buildings across Northeast China. Meanwhile, they forced Chinese children in the region to learn Japanese, attempting to assimilate the Chinese people through cultural infiltration and cultural aggression, and attempting to seize Northeast China and turn it into Japan's inherent territory.