Undercover in Snezhnaya, My Teyvat Spy Life [56]

“Your father? That letter was from your father?”

After reading the letter together, Eula asked in surprise.

“My adoptive father,” Artem replied calmly, folding the letter with care.

“You—you’re from Mondstadt?”

Eula was even more taken aback.

So Artem really was from Mondstadt? Then how did he become a high-ranking Fatui Inspector?

“Sort of.”

His face showed no particular emotion.

He folded the letter neatly and tucked it into an inner pocket with great care. Only after that did he speak again.

“It’s a bit complicated, really. I hadn’t planned to tell you all this…”

“But now…” Artem gave a wry smile and shook his head. “Want to hear about my childhood?”

Eula’s eyes brightened. “I do!”

Artem nodded once, then began his story.

“About eighteen years ago, there was a Mondstadt priest named Coulson. He was passing through Dragonspine when he found an abandoned infant.”

“According to him, the kid didn’t even have clothes on, but even lying naked in the freezing snow, he didn’t cry or fuss—just lay there quietly.”

“Coulson felt a connection, so he brought the child back to Mondstadt City.”

“And gave him a name: Albert.”

“Albert?” Eula repeated, blinking.

Artem pointed at himself with a smile. “Yeah, that’s me. That’s my Mondstadt name.”

“My old man adopted a lot of kids—at one point, I had seventeen siblings. But I was the only one who called him ‘Dad.’ The rest called him ‘Teacher.’”

“I remember how he’d brag to anyone who’d listen—finally, he had a son.”

“Coulson wasn’t just any priest, either. He was Grand Priest of the Church of Favonius, and head instructor for Mondstadt’s covert division.”

Eula’s brows shot up at the familiar title. “The covert division? The one from all those stories—the branch that clears away all threats to Mondstadt?”

“That’s the one.” Artem nodded. “My dad was in charge. I grew up with him, so naturally I picked up a lot of covert skills.”

“I had talent. Most kids took months to learn swordplay; I could mimic it perfectly after one try.”

“Same with picking locks and other, let’s say, ‘gray-area’ tricks. Others might take forever to get it right, but I could do it at a glance.”

“My dad thought I was a prodigy.”

“So he gave me systematic, professional training.”

“Before long, I stood out from all his other foster kids.”

“When I turned eight, he respected my wishes and took me to apply as a Knight of Favonius trainee.”

“With my abilities, I figured I’d be accepted for sure.”

“But I was turned down.”

“Varka said I was the son of the covert division’s instructor—so of course I should stay in the division and inherit my dad’s role. Why join the Knights?”

“So I was personally assigned by him to the covert division, using my youth and skills to help clear threats from Mondstadt.”

“But that’s also when the Church set their sights on me.”

“The Church?” Eula was more and more confused. “From your story, you should have been part of the Church already. What do you mean they set their sights on you?”

“Ever heard of the ‘Dawn Plan’?”

“No.” Eula answered honestly.

“Seamus Pegg’s brainchild—take in large numbers of orphans, train them in special skills, then send them to Snezhnaya as intelligence assets for Mondstadt.”

“Or to put it plainly—call them spies, or even sacrificial pawns.”

As Artem finished, Eula’s heart turned over. She stammered, “You—you were—a spy? Mondstadt’s spy in Snezhnaya?”

“Used to be. Not anymore.” Artem shook his head.

“When Seamus Pegg set his sights on me, my dad did everything he could to keep me out of the Dawn Plan.”

“He thought someone with my talent shouldn’t be shipped off to a foreign land—I should shine in Mondstadt.”

“Even if I couldn’t be a Knight, at least I could be a Nightstalker of the covert division.”

“After Dad made a huge scene, Seamus eventually gave up trying to recruit me.”

“So I kept working for the covert division and made quite a name for myself.”

“But when I turned ten, everything changed.”

“Diluc Ragnvindr.”

“That prodigy my own age—he got a [Vision].”

“And I… didn’t.”

At this, Eula sighed softly.

She already knew where this was going.

Mondstadt having two prodigies should have been a good thing.

But once one received a [Vision] and the other didn’t, their rivalry could only become twisted.

Artem took a sip of water and went on. “After Diluc got his [Vision], Seamus Pegg came for me again.”

“My dad fought with him all over again—but this time, he couldn’t protect me.”

“I was forced into the Dawn Plan.”

“The only concession Dad won for me was this: if I still hadn’t gotten a [Vision] by age fourteen, then I’d be sent to Snezhnaya.”

“So I stayed in the Church, learning more spycraft—and every day, I went through at least two hours of high-intensity brainwashing. The only thoughts they wanted me to have were: loyalty to Barbatos and the eternal protection of Mondstadt.”

“I still worked for the covert division, too—Seamus called it ‘practical assassination training.’”

Seeing the shadows in Artem’s expression, Eula gently took his hand, her gaze full of unspoken warmth.

She didn’t try to offer empty comfort; the gesture was enough.

“Whew—”

After a pause, Artem let out a long breath, shaking off the gloom.

“But I wasn’t willing to accept it.”

“So what if I didn’t have a [Vision]? Did that make me weak?”

“Grand Master Arundolyn led for five hundred years without a [Vision]!”

“So why did Diluc get to stand in the sunlight as a celebrated genius, while I was forced to kill in the dark, always at risk of being sent off to die in Snezhnaya?”

“So, I secretly challenged Diluc to a few duels.”

“I wanted to prove that even without a [Vision], I was still strong!”

“With that in mind, I didn’t hold back—and I beat Diluc, badly, more than once.”

“When I confirmed that I truly outmatched him, I excitedly told Bishop Seamus. I told him I didn’t want to be a spy—I had what it took to become a Knight like Diluc.”

“And Seamus’s response was to throw me in solitary confinement for a month.”

“He also warned me not to get any funny ideas—just do my job.”

“Bishop—no, that man—how could he be so biased?” Eula muttered, her tone lacking its usual respect.

“Pfft.” Artem gave a cold snort. “Because I was a foundling.”

“And Diluc was a Ragnvindr—a descendant of the Dawn Knight, a lineage stretching back a thousand years.”

“Always comes down to that, huh?” Hearing that, Eula’s face darkened.

She’d suffered all her life for the name Lawrence.

And because of names—Diluc, blessed with a [Vision], was hailed as a prodigy; Artem, who bested him without one, was punished and sidelined, while Diluc soared up to become Cavalry Captain.

What a joke.

Artem continued,

“Seamus’s attitude crushed my hopes of ever joining the Knights.”

“So I never brought it up again.”

“For the next four years, the people around me kept changing.”

“Dad never said it, but I knew—they were all sent off to Snezhnaya.”

“When I turned fourteen, Diluc became the youngest Cavalry Captain in the Knights’ history, and I still didn’t have a [Vision]. As agreed, it was time for me to be sent to Snezhnaya.”

“That’s when my dad tried to go back on the deal.”

“He believed, [Vision] or not, I could become the next Arundolyn—the ideal Nightstalker to protect Mondstadt from the shadows.”

“He threw everything into fighting Seamus, hoping someday he could pull me out of that hell.”

“They fought over me for a whole year.”

Here, Artem paused, his expression turning even darker.

“On my fifteenth birthday, Dad was sent to Inazuma on a mission by Varka.”

“And with him gone, Seamus wasted no time. The very next day, he shipped me off to Snezhnaya, straight into the hellhole known as ‘The House of the Hearth.’”

“…”

Eula’s mood was heavy.

Was Artem a genius? Absolutely.

No [Vision], yet he could easily defeat Diluc—who had one.

Now, he could even go toe-to-toe with someone like Varka. Even if he’d lost, very few his age could ever stand against him.

And yet, because he was an orphan, because he didn’t have a [Vision], because he wasn’t a Ragnvindr—he’d been sent to a foreign land, dancing with death as a spy.

“Alright, enough of these sad stories,” Artem said, forcing a light smile. “Tomorrow, let’s go pay respects at my old man’s grave.”

“Heh, he never changed. Could never say anything just once—it always had to be three times.”

“Alright.” Eula nodded sweetly.

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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!