In the frozen wasteland of Snezhnaya, where the environment was as harsh as it was breathtaking, only the hardiest of life could endure.
The grand city of Zapolyarny loomed like a slumbering beast amidst the relentless snowstorms. Factories churned tirelessly, their steaming exhaust offering fleeting warmth against the biting cold.
House of the Hearth.
Arlecchino, the Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers, known as "The Knave," sat inside, listening to the children's progress reports.
As a Harbinger, she naturally had access to greater resources. The fireplace crackled, its flames casting a comforting glow, allowing the children to shed their heavy coats indoors. The atmosphere was peaceful, serene—
Until it wasn't.
"Father! An urgent letter from Lyney!"
"Lyney?"
Arlecchino took the letter. If Lyney had sent word, it could only mean trouble—something he couldn't handle alone.
Had something gone wrong in Fontaine?
Her sharp eyes scanned the contents, her expression growing increasingly severe.
The children of the House of the Hearth fell silent, sensing the shift in their guardian's demeanor.
After a long moment, Arlecchino stood.
"Children, forgive me. I must seek an audience with Her Majesty."
The children exchanged glances as two girls swiftly brought her coat, draping it over her shoulders.
Clad in her Harbinger's cloak, Arlecchino stepped into the blizzard, the letter clutched tightly in her hand.
Before long, she stood before the imposing Zapolyarny Palace, its steel frame encased in pristine, glass-like ice—a monument of solemn authority.
She entered.
Ten minutes later, a summons was issued, calling the Harbingers to assemble.
Within half an hour, all available Harbingers had gathered in the throne room.
They stood in two rows before the Tsaritsa's court.
High above, the "Gentle" Tsaritsa sat shrouded in shadow, her features obscured, her presence radiating an unfathomable chill.
Pierro, the Jester, Chief among the Harbingers, stood at the forefront, his voice grave.
"The world… has encountered an unforeseen variable."
Arlecchino raised Lyney's letter. "A power beyond this world has manifested in Fontaine."
"What do you mean?" Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger, frowned in confusion.
"See for yourselves."
Arlecchino passed the letter to the Harbinger beside her.
One by one, the Harbingers read Lyney's report.
No one spoke.
But their expressions darkened with each passing line.
Finally, the letter reached Tartaglia.
From the others' reactions, he already knew the situation was dire.
He read every word carefully.
And instantly grasped the terrifying implications of the "card shop" Lyney described.
A power beyond this world—indeed.
But it all felt too surreal, too impossible, shattering the boundaries of his understanding.
His worldview, at the tender age of nineteen, was under siege.
Common sense had been upended.
Yet there was no time to mourn the death of his old beliefs.
Tartaglia's eyes gleamed as he looked up at the Tsaritsa.
"Your Majesty! Please, send me to Fontaine to investigate!" His voice was firm, resolute.
Not a single Harbinger—not even Pierro—seemed surprised.
Their youngest colleague had joined the Fatui for one purpose: to seek greater battles.
In other words, he lived to grow stronger.
And now, he saw an opportunity.
"Tartaglia, your mission was to depart for Liyue," Pierro reminded him.
"Your Majesty?"
Tartaglia ignored him, his gaze fixed solely on the Tsaritsa. His loyalty had always been to her alone. Pierro's opinion? Irrelevant.
The Tsaritsa remained silent.
Tartaglia grew impatient. "Your Majesty, my fellow Harbingers—do you honestly believe I stand a chance against Morax?"
Pulcinella, the diminutive elf-like Fifth Harbinger, adjusted his glasses silently.
The answer was obvious.
A mere Harbinger could never hope to challenge the oldest of the Archons.
"But if I go to Fontaine and acquire that power, I'll be strong enough to face him!" Tartaglia declared with absolute confidence.
"How much time… remains?"
The Tsaritsa's voice was as cold as the howling winds.
Pierro bowed slightly. "Three months."
"The plan proceeds. But there is time. Let him go."
With those words, her presence vanished.
Tartaglia grinned.
Originally, he was set to leave for Liyue in three months, and he had been training relentlessly in Snezhnaya.
But now? Three months was more than enough to experience Fontaine's otherworldly power firsthand.
He immediately turned to Pantalone, the Ninth Harbinger.
"Brother!" Tartaglia beamed.
Pantalone: "..."
As the master of the Northland Bank, the man who controlled Snezhnaya's wealth, he had endless mora at his disposal.
A place where power could be bought? He was the most eager of them all.
But alas…
This guy still gets special treatment… Is it because he's a native Snezhnayan?
Pantalone adjusted his glasses, smiling faintly. "What do you need?"
"You know exactly what."
Tartaglia nudged him playfully, winking.
"Fine."
Pantalone sighed.
The Tsaritsa had already approved Tartaglia's request—her intent was clear.
For the sake of their grand scheme, he had no choice but to comply.
"But don't leave a mess behind," Pantalone warned.
"No problem!"
Tartaglia nodded vigorously.
With that settled, Pierro spoke again.
"This meeting is adjourned. Let us hope our youngest Harbinger returns with the strength to fulfill his mission."
The Harbingers dispersed.
Arlecchino noticed something unusual—today, her colleagues were unusually amicable.
Unable to go themselves, they likely intended to… acquire their desired cards through her?
"Arlecchino!"
Tartaglia called out to her just outside the palace.
"Hm?"
She turned.
"When do you plan to leave?" He was practically vibrating with excitement.
Arlecchino didn't dislike him—he was, in her eyes, refreshingly straightforward.
"I have arrangements to finalize."
"How long?"
"Half a day."
"Perfect!"
Tartaglia grinned. "I'll go say goodbye to my family. Then we head to Fontaine together?"
"Agreed."
----------
T/N:
Access 30 chapters in advance on my Patreon: p@treon.com/furinaimpact