Undercover in Snezhnaya, My Teyvat Spy Life [69]

In the days that followed, no new turmoil erupted in Mondstadt City.

All the bad news came from outside the walls.

For example, Stormterror launched another assault on Ginsborough Port, destroying every merchant vessel and dealing a devastating blow to Dawn Winery.

And there was a new face leading the city’s response—a change from Grand Master Varka. The job now fell to the fifteen-year-old Dandelion Knight, Jean Gunnhildr.

The eldest daughter and heir of the Gunnhildr clan, Jean had just lost her father. But instead of letting grief swallow her, she turned it into fuel. As soon as she took over as Acting Grand Master, she threw herself into the work, clocking maybe two or three hours of sleep per day.

Such a workload was possible not just because of the ongoing dragon disaster, but thanks in no small part to the “help” of the Fatui.

Ever since Varka left Mondstadt to pursue the Harbinger, the Fatui had been more and more active. But this time, they weren’t looting or sowing chaos as usual.

They were, in fact, actively involved in disaster relief.

They’d even stopped all recruitment propaganda, the conscription posters coming down overnight.

Instead, they provided aid not only to Mondstadt’s citizens within the city, but to villages and towns across the region—dispatching people, supplies, and money wherever it was needed.

The Fatui called it:
As the greatest nation on the continent, Snezhnaya has an obligation to help its allies through disaster.

At the same time, they urged Mondstadt to set aside old grievances and focus on its people first—warning against stubborn pride that might delay relief for the refugees.

This carefully crafted propaganda, claiming the moral high ground, quickly reshaped public opinion. The people of Mondstadt now looked at the Fatui very differently.

And it showed in the numbers: even though the Fatui had stopped advertising conscription, Mondstadt’s citizens grew more and more eager to sign up each day.

What galled Jean the most was the Fatui’s public announcement that their Harbinger had gone to hunt down Stormterror—vowing to eliminate the threat once and for all and make sure Mondstadt never faced another storm disaster.

But who did the people call Stormterror?
The masses might have forgotten.
But Jean, as the Gunnhildr heiress, knew better than anyone.

Dvalin, the Dragon of the East—one of the Four Winds, the Anemo Archon Barbatos’s closest friend and kin! A being of immense status—and the very dragon who’d once helped Mondstadt banish Durin.

Now, the Fatui were brazenly announcing their intention to kill Dvalin.

To the average citizen, this sounded like the Fatui were ridding them of a menace.

But to Jean, it was pure provocation.
A message that said, We’re going to kill your Dragon of the East in broad daylight. What are you going to do about it?

If anything happened to Dvalin—
How would the Archon see Mondstadt, or the Knights who had failed to protect his friend, upon his return?

The thought sent a chill down Jean’s spine.

So she had no choice but to call a public meeting, gathering the citizens to explain the truth:

Stormterror was in fact Dvalin, the Dragon of the East. His mind was troubled, but Varka was working to heal him.
Jean promised, confidently, that the Grand Master would handle the crisis perfectly, urging everyone to trust the Knights and not fall for outsiders’ lies.

But the crowd was having none of it.

Just as Artem had predicted, most of Mondstadt’s citizens didn’t buy Jean’s story.
Even as she spoke, people interrupted with shouts and complaints:

Stormterror is still out there causing destruction—more and more refugees are flooding the city every day!

How are we supposed to live if this drags on?

You say the Grand Master is helping Stormterror? Then why has no one seen him among the refugees?

Is the Knights of Favonius just making excuses for its own incompetence?

With a bit of nudging from troublemakers, public dissatisfaction grew rapidly.

Battered by the flood of accusations, Jean—appearing for the first time as Acting Grand Master—was forced to retreat, humiliated.

She knew exactly who these hecklers were.

But there was nothing she could do.

The Fatui had been stabbing the Knights with their velvet knives for days—and already, the Knights’ reputation was in tatters.

It left Jean flustered and overwhelmed.

What about that Fatui double agent?
The thought struck Jean suddenly: Artem, who had revealed his identity in the Grand Master’s office, had been listed as Mondstadt’s greatest secret.

Now, he was right there in the Fatui’s base at the Goth Grand Hotel.

Why hadn’t he done anything?
Surely, with his connections, he knew exactly how dire things were.

Why the silence?

Jean hurried to the Church to find Rosaria.

She knew Rosaria was Artem’s local contact in Mondstadt—also Seamus Pegg’s most trusted agent.

But to Jean’s surprise, when she explained the situation, Rosaria barely looked at her.
A single “I can’t help you,” and she walked away without another word.

Rosaria’s response only left Jean more puzzled.

She hadn’t even asked anything unreasonable—just for Rosaria to find a way to contact Artem, maybe ask him for a way to counter the Fatui’s moves.

Why had it come to this?

A creeping sense of dread welled up in Jean’s heart.

After some thought, she headed for the Church’s underground archives—where Mondstadt’s classified files were kept.

Since Cardinal Calvin, the expected successor to Seamus Pegg, had not yet taken office, the Knights of Favonius were still managing intelligence and operations.

With Varka away, Jean, as Acting Grand Master, had the right to access Mondstadt’s highest-level secrets.

Anxiously, she opened the archives.

Before long, she found a thick dossier marked “Albert.”

She opened it.

The first thing that caught her eye:
[Albert has defected.]

She had tried to steel herself—but seeing those six words, Jean went numb. Her mind went blank.

The double agent who held the city’s deepest secrets—gone, at the worst possible moment.

No wonder the Grand Master had been grim-faced and silent for days.

No wonder he’d banned all [Vision]-holding knights from leaving the city, sending only ordinary knights to help the refugees.

No wonder the Fatui had been able to strike at the Knights from all sides, with not a single bit of warning.

Something big is about to happen!

Staring at the word “defected,” Jean could only think those words, over and over.

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T/N: poor Jean

This is a fan translation of 提瓦特之我在至冬做臥底 by 曉風殘月聽荷 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!