Undercover in Snezhnaya, My Teyvat Spy Life [12]

“Damn—!”

Landing hard in Wolvendom, Artem Vetrovski spat out a mouthful of blood.

He quickly summoned a swirl of Hydro to heal himself, cursing under his breath the whole time. “Hey pretty boy, I told you to take it easy—is this is your idea of easy?”

“Are you trying to kill me or what?!”

“Don’t tell me Eroch isn’t the actual mole—are YOU the damn Snezhnayan spy?”

“Heh.”

A quiet laugh came from behind a large tree.

Varka, tall and broad-shouldered, strode out with a deeply satisfied expression. “After all the Mora you’ve squeezed out of me, you deserve a beating or two.”

“Pfft!”

“Why don’t you go take the hits next time?”

“I can handle Diluc and Eula just fine, even with Jean thrown in. But what were you thinking, bringing Albedo into this?”

“You know how strong that guy is, right?” Artem grumbled irritably.

That duel with Eula earlier? All for Varka’s benefit. He’d wanted to show off his current strength—a warning to stop sending him weaklings. If he accidentally killed someone important, things would get messy.

Instead, the old man had gathered every heavy hitter he could, out in the open and in the shadows.

Seeing how Artem’s bones were half-broken, Varka gave a sheepish chuckle. “Yeah, maybe that was a bit much.”

“A bit?!”

Artem, exasperated, shouted, “Why don’t you try fighting Albedo next time?! If I hadn’t reacted fast enough, I’d be a corpse by now!”

“No worries, I was right here. There’s no way I’d let Albedo kill you.” Varka slapped his chest and laughed boisterously, oblivious to Artem’s increasingly dark glare.

“So basically, you just stood there and watched me get beat up?”

Artem’s tone was all mockery. “What a saint you are.”

“Heh heh, thanks for the compliment,” Varka replied, giving him a smug thumbs-up.

With the Grand Master’s skin thicker than the city walls, Artem found himself speechless.

Once his injuries were mostly healed, he got up and stretched, wincing a bit from the aches—time to head back to Mondstadt and collapse into bed.

Two battles back-to-back tonight. Burned through too much elemental energy.

Even if I’m not afraid of the [Delusion’s] backlash, overusing elemental power still leaves the body and mind exhausted.

Especially after taking two direct hits from Albedo—probably cracked a few ribs.

Noticing Varka still loitering around, Artem shot him a look. “Grand Master, aren’t you heading back to Mondstadt to watch the show?”

“Hand it over.”

Varka ignored the hint, holding out his hand expectantly.

“Let’s be clear—I keep any loot I confiscate. If you want it, you’ll have to take this.”

Artem took out the glove he’d snatched from Crepus, pried the [Delusion] off, and tossed the glove to Varka.

“Tch, fine. This’ll do. You get yourself back, don’t get caught up in anything.” Varka nodded, then vanished in a blur before Artem could even blink.

---

The news that Crepus Ragnvindr, master of the Dawn Winery, had been ambushed and badly injured, was already spreading like wildfire through Mondstadt—even in the dead of night.

But this wasn’t some scandal about a Lawrence clan criminal dueling a Snezhnayan envoy; this was the kind of chilling, spine-tingling news that sent the whole city reeling.

The Dawn Winery was a pillar of Mondstadt’s economy.

Year after year, it supplied untold quantities of wine across the continent and paid more tax than almost anyone else. Over 11.4% of the Knights of Favonius’ annual budget came straight from Dawn Winery taxes.

If something happened to Crepus, Mondstadt’s entire economy would spiral into chaos—at least for a while.

Worried citizens crowded outside the Church of Favonius, anxiously awaiting any word.

---

At the same time, Inspector Eroch of the Knights of Favonius, upon hearing the news, immediately gathered his men and surrounded the Goth Grand Hotel, three layers deep, demanding that the Fatui submit to an inspection.

Naturally, Leonid, standing guard at the door, wasn’t about to let that happen.

Under his command, a full sixty-man squad assembled, squaring off against Eroch’s knights in a tense standoff.

“Open the door. Submit to inspection!”

Eroch’s voice was icy as he shouted at the doors of the Goth Grand Hotel.

“The commander is resting. No one is to be disturbed!”

Having already received Artem’s orders, Leonid donned his vanguard armor, leading his fully armed squad in a solid line before the door—unyielding.

Eroch narrowed his eyes, signaling his knights to ready their weapons—gone was any pretense of politeness toward the Snezhnayan diplomats.

His reasoning was simple:

“Crepus Ragnvindr was attacked, and you’re the prime suspects. Open this door for inspection—don’t make me ask again.”

Leonid ignored him, standing firm no matter how Eroch cursed and shouted.

The commotion quickly caught the attention of Mondstadters nearby.

One person told another, and soon a crowd was gathering, chattering among themselves.

“Does this mean the Fatui are the ones who attacked Master Crepus?”

“Told you, those Snezhnayans are nothing but trouble—it had to be them.”

“Go, Inspector! Master Crepus can’t be attacked for nothing! Catch those criminals!”

“Beat those Fatui bastards! Inspector, fight them! Smash them!”

The rising voices made Eroch even bolder—he ordered the knights to prepare for a forced entry.

As for whether this would provoke the Fatui to retaliate?

Heh.

That was the whole point—this was the arrangement he’d made with the Snezhnayan envoys. Give the Fatui a pretext to escalate, put pressure on the Knights, and take his cut from the fallout.

As soon as the hotel doors opened, he’d have all the evidence he needed of the Lawrence clan plotting against Crepus.

Sacrifice a despised Mondstadt family, and trade it for wealth and glory.

Just thinking about it made Eroch tremble with excitement. He shouted, “You’re afraid to open the door—so the killer must be inside, right?!”

“Now, immediately—open up! Open this door right now!”

“This is your last warning. Or we’ll do it by force!”

Leonid’s eyes went cold.

He was just about to give the order when suddenly a window above them opened, and a lazy voice drifted down:

“What’s with all the noise? Some of us are trying to sleep here.”

“Hah, Mondstadters really don’t know how to mind their own business. Even in the middle of the night, you come looking for trouble at my place.”

Eroch snorted, glaring up at the figure leaning out the window—Artem Vetrovski. “Open this door, now! Don’t make me say it again!”

He signaled; the knights snapped into combat stance, ready to start a fight at a moment’s notice.

Leonid’s sixty-man squad wasn’t in the mood to back down either. Seeing the knights posture like that, they charged their weapons with crackling elemental energy. They might’ve been outnumbered, but their aura was just as fierce.

“Tch. Leonid, let them in. We have nothing to hide. Let them see for themselves.”

“But let’s get one thing straight: if you don’t find anything, don’t blame me for what comes next.”

At Artem’s command, Leonid finally lowered his weapon and—grudgingly—opened the doors to the Goth Grand Hotel.

The lights inside blazed bright. Eroch couldn’t help the satisfied curl of his lips.

He could already see power and Mora beckoning him from the other side.

---

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!