Genshin Impact: Villain Impact

"What?" La Signora was slightly startled. "What do you mean by weekly follow-ups? Isn't my condition already cured?"

"I've already told you, it's not an illness. It's a special physiological reaction due to your unique constitution," Lucas spread his hands. "Your internal fire will continue to accumulate over time. This condition can only be alleviated, not cured."

"So... so what you're saying is..." La Signora instinctively clenched her fingers and murmured, "You and I will have to… keep doing this?"

"To be precise, yes, again and again..." Lucas had a matter-of-fact expression on his face. "But I should be thanking you. After all, we're 'helping each other.' With you around, I won't need to look for other women."

"Other women..." La Signora suddenly recalled something, her expression shifting slightly. "Did you just call out someone else's name? Was it... Rosalyne?"

Because her memory had been sealed, La Signora didn't know that this was her own name. Yet, for some reason, hearing it gave her a strange sense of familiarity.

"That's right," Lucas nodded without hesitation. "Rosalyne… was the woman I loved the most."

"Hmph..." La Signora sneered coldly. "You claim to have loved another woman, yet here you are, doing this with me. You really are scum."

"I don't think she would mind," Lucas said, staring at La Signora's face with a bitter smile. "After all, she's already passed away."

Indeed, the moment "La Signora" was born, Rosalyne had died.

From then on, the world only knew the Eighth Fatui Harbinger, and the girl who used to sing in Mondstadt's square no longer existed.

"What's the matter?" A fleeting melancholy crossed Lucas's eyes before he quickly returned to his usual smile. "Jealous because I called out another woman's name?"

"Jealous? Ridiculous!" La Signora immediately retorted. "You mean nothing to me. You can call out whatever name you want, and I couldn't care less!"

"Don't worry," Lucas shook his head. "Next time, I won't... call her name again."

"Hmph, as if there's going to be a next time..." La Signora half-spoke, then suddenly stomped her foot in frustration. "Who said there'd be a next time with you?"

She quickly put on her clothes, preparing to leave. But before exiting, she made sure to warn him, "This matter stays between us. If you dare let anyone else know… you'll end up as ice shards!"

As Lucas watched her leave, he let out a long sigh.

Every time he entered the "immersive mode," he felt like his words, actions, and even personality started to blend with the simulated version of himself.

If this kept happening, he worried that one day he might end up with split personalities.

Strangely, after finishing La Signora's "treatment," Lucas hadn't immediately exited the immersive mode.

But he didn't mind. He simply dressed and walked out.

Outside, he was met with a city both foreign and familiar—Snezhnaya.

Unlike the peaceful freedom of Mondstadt or the bustling prosperity of Liyue, Snezhnaya felt like a colossal iron beast. Towering, orderly buildings, factory chimneys belching thick black smoke in the distance, and a sky so dark it felt like the bottom of a cauldron—all of it created a palpable sense of oppression.

It was already late at night, and Snezhnaya enforced a strict curfew. The streets were patrolled only by soldiers, with the occasional "Debt Collector" slipping through alleys, executing tasks that could only be done under the cover of darkness.

Of course, as the Third Harbinger, "The Doctor," Lucas received respectful bows from every soldier he passed.

The lab wasn't far from the Doctor's residence, and as soon as Lucas entered the house, he spotted a girl in a nightgown, sitting in a chair by the door and yawning softly.

When she noticed him, she immediately perked up and used a quick-step movement to appear right in front of him, narrowing her eyes. "Why are you back so late today?"

This girl was none other than Scaramouche.

Though, as a doll, Scaramouche technically shouldn't feel tired, her design was intricate enough to allow her to "sleep" as a way to automatically recharge her energy.

Seeing the suspicion on Scaramouche's face, Lucas awkwardly replied, "Well... of course, I was working late. You know, the Fatui are preparing a special ops team composed of undead, so there's a lot of extra work."

"Really?" Scaramouche squinted her eyes, moving even closer until her small face was pressed against Lucas, lightly sniffing his clothes.

Her expression changed immediately. "Why do you smell like perfume?"

Crap!

Lucas's heart skipped a beat.

As a doll, Scaramouche had not only exceptional combat skills but also enhanced sensory functions—including heightened smell.

Even the faintest unusual scent wouldn't escape her nose.

"This scent... it's a rare and expensive perfume—'Queen's Kiss,'" Scaramouche remarked with a strange look. "As far as I know, only Her Majesty the Tsaritsa and that annoying woman use it. So… did you meet with her today?"

The "annoying woman" referred to La Signora. Perhaps due to her dislike of the Doctor or the longstanding tension between Scaramouche and La Signora, the two Fatui Harbingers couldn't stand each other.

That meant if the Doctor had come into contact with "Queen's Kiss," and it wasn't the Tsaritsa, the only option left was La Signora.

Seeing no way to deny it further, Lucas reluctantly nodded. "Yes, La Signora… did come to see me at the lab."

"Tch, so it was her after all," Scaramouche seemed relieved, waving her hand dismissively. "That's fine then."

"What do you mean, 'that's fine?'" Lucas asked, a bit puzzled. "La Signora and I met late at night. Don't you think something might've happened between us?"

"You and La Signora?" Scaramouche smirked. "Not a chance! You've seen the way she looks at you—like you're trash. Honestly, you claiming to have met with the Tsaritsa secretly would be more believable."

Thankfully, no spies were present in the Doctor's residence, or Scaramouche's last comment might've earned her a death sentence for disrespecting the Tsaritsa.

"I'm guessing she came to see you for work-related reasons," Scaramouche crossed her arms, confident. "Even though that woman is annoying, she's quite skilled. No way you'd be able to overpower her."

In truth, Lucas's strength had long surpassed that of both La Signora and Scaramouche. But since he kept his abilities hidden, even Scaramouche, who was close to him, had no idea of his true power.

"Well… you're not wrong," Lucas smiled, deciding to play along. "We were just... discussing some work-related matters. No choice—there are things that only I can handle, even if she dislikes me."

Of course, Scaramouche had no idea that what Lucas meant by "things" was entirely different from what she was thinking.

"So… you haven't been with any other women recently?" Scaramouche asked shyly, "Don't you… feel uncomfortable?"

In this dimension, Lucas had lived for over 500 years, becoming a master at reading people's intentions. Although most of his time had been spent in dark, isolated basements, his ability to observe and understand others was well-developed.

Naturally, he could tell what Scaramouche was hinting at.

In fact, this wasn't the first time Scaramouche had dropped these kinds of "hints" toward him.

Despite Lucas making it clear on numerous occasions—especially to her—that she was off-limits, Scaramouche seemed unwilling to give up, constantly giving him subtle signs.

It wasn't because she lacked charm. On the contrary, Lucas was quite fond of the "tomboy" type. However, he still believed it was best to maintain their current relationship.

After all, if they crossed that line, there would be no turning back.

"I haven't done anything," Lucas said with a stretch, smiling faintly. "Work's been too busy lately. I haven't had time for anything else. When things calm down a bit, maybe I'll have some time to relax. But for now, I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

Watching Lucas walk away to his room, Scaramouche bit her lip in frustration. The edge of her loose nightgown revealed a sliver of black lace hidden underneath.

"Ugh..." she muttered under her breath. "I even went through the trouble of putting on new clothes for this..."

[Exiting Immersive Mode]

[Entering Text Mode]

[Age 535: Throughout the next year, you maintained your special 'doctor-patient relationship' with La Signora. Sometimes it was two or three times a week; other times, just once every couple of weeks.]

[Of course, you knew well that clearing the internal fire within her body only required a monthly session. However, you weren't about to point this out. Your relationship was simple: the laboratory was your 'treatment room,' and each session lasted one to two hours.]

[As for the exact timing, you and La Signora had a unique signal: whenever she didn't wear perfume, that was the night for treatment. After all, too much contact with her perfume might arouse Scaramouche's suspicions.]

[The amusing part was that no matter how passionate La Signora seemed during the process, the moment it was over, she would revert to her usual cold self, pull up her skirt, and leave without so much as a word of affection. At those moments, you almost wondered if you were the one being used.]

[You understood, though, that this was for the best. La Signora's face was identical to Rosalyne's. If she ever showed even a sliver of warmth, you feared you wouldn't be able to control your emotions.]

[One of the key rules for a Fatui Harbinger is that they cannot marry or have children. Harbingers cannot afford to have weaknesses, especially romantic ones with fellow Harbingers. This was likely the primary reason the Tsaritsa demanded that Rosalyne become a Harbinger—to sever any chance of rekindling your relationship.]

[So, the "secret" between you and La Signora had to remain just that. The enmity between you was so pronounced that no one would ever suspect what was truly going on beneath the surface.]

[Age 536: The Fatui welcomed the Ninth Harbinger, "Puppet."]

[Age 537: Thanks to your undead army, Snezhnaya's military strength continued to grow. However, this caused internal tensions as resources were stretched to support the ever-growing army. To divert attention and relieve pressure, Snezhnaya pointed its sights at the land of fire, Natlan.]

[Natlan was the weakest of the seven nations, known for its fierce, warlike people, yet lagging behind in terms of economic and technological development. It lacked strong ties with other nations, making it the perfect target for invasion.]

[This mission was assigned to you by the Tsaritsa. As a Harbinger, you had no choice but to comply. You had already prepared for this, though. You unveiled your latest research—Ursa the Drake.]

[A thousand years ago, Ursa the Drake wreaked havoc across Teyvat, but after battling the South Wind Lion of the Four Winds, Vennessa, the dragon fled, eventually dying from its injuries.]

[Through an unexpected discovery, you obtained the dragon's remains. Using your resurrection techniques, you created a replica of Ursa the Drake. Although not as powerful as the original, the replica still possessed considerable strength. Alongside Ursa, you also created an army of undead creatures.]

[You commanded Ursa the Drake and the undead to launch a surprise attack on Natlan, throwing the nation into chaos. Of course, even with the dragon, it would be difficult to conquer an entire nation, so you used this opportunity to march in with your army under the pretense of 'rescue,' ending this war you had orchestrated from the shadows.]

[The war decimated Natlan, forcing them into an unequal treaty with Snezhnaya. Though everyone knew this conflict was likely a chess move by Snezhnaya, Natlan had no choice but to submit to the overwhelming force.]

[This war left hundreds of thousands of innocent Natlan citizens displaced or dead. Yet, as you watched their faces filled with hatred, your heart remained untouched.]

[Demon, executioner, schemer, Tsaritsa's hound... countless titles were bestowed upon you. Your "infamy" spread not only through Natlan but also to other nations.]

[Killing one person is a crime. But killing 10,000, or even 100,000? You shattered any notion of "goodness" five hundred years ago when you razed Mondstadt. To you, "life" was no different from walking corpses.]

[Achievement Unlocked: Butcher]

[Talent Reward: Executioner]

[Effect: When killing a target, you can receive a reward proportional to the target's strength.]

Whoa, whoa!

Don't give me such terrifying abilities…

Lucas couldn't help but sweat as he read through this chapter.

In Keqing's simulator, he was just a school bully. In Shenhe's simulator, he was, at worst, a bit of a lecher. But now, he had become a mass murderer.

This jump in characterization was far too extreme!

Lucas couldn't shake the feeling that, with each passing moment, his simulated self was becoming more and more like the actual "Doctor."

[With your schemes and Snezhnaya's oppressive policies, Natlan quickly became a vassal state of Snezhnaya. This bold move caused displeasure in nations like Sumeru and Fontaine, but due to the power gap, their 'displeasure' amounted to little more than criticism in the newspapers.]

[Fontaine even tried to cut off trade with Snezhnaya as a form of protest, but that charade ended quickly. After all, without the grain imports from Snezhnaya, the so-called "romantic" nation couldn't possibly survive on love alone.]

[For Snezhnaya, a nation that values might, you returned as a war hero after conquering Natlan. While you were seen as a blood-soaked demon in other countries, to the people of Snezhnaya, you were a hero without equal.]

[However, you had no interest in fame or glory. For you, the only useful thing about this war was the fresh corpses it provided for your experiments. Ursa the Drake had performed admirably, but it still had many flaws. You needed to perfect it.]

[Upon returning home, your residence was filled with gifts and rewards. The Jester gave you a golden mask, the General gifted you a precious sword from Inazuma… but what intrigued you the most was La Signora's 'gift'—a simple white silk handkerchief laced with the scent of 'Queen's Kiss.']

[Scaramouche scoffed at La Signora's gift, but only you understood its meaning—tonight, La Signora would be waiting for you in the lab.]

[However, Scaramouche, as the Sixth Harbinger, also prepared a 'gift' for you. She personally cooked an entire feast for you.]

[Looking at the cuts on her fingers, you couldn't help but feel touched. For Scaramouche, cooking was likely a thousand times harder than killing. Unsurprisingly, the food tasted terrible. You imagined whoever created her must not have had much talent for cooking either.]

[Still, you finished everything on your plate, showing your appreciation. After all, during your time in the underground cellar, you could eat bread as hard as stone. Scaramouche's cooking was nothing in comparison.]

[Afterward, Scaramouche told you, with a sly smile, that the meal was only the gift from 'Scaramouche.' She had another gift prepared just for you, from 'Kunikuzushi,' and you had to come to her room tonight to 'collect' it.]

[You could guess what kind of 'gift' Scaramouche had in mind. Seeing the confident look in her eyes, you knew that if you entered her room tonight, you wouldn't be coming out. But on the other hand, La Signora was also waiting for you in the lab. Faced with this dilemma, you decide to…]

[1. Go to Scaramouche]

[2. Go to La Signora]

-----

"Why am I being forced to make this kind of choice?"

For Lucas, this dilemma was perhaps more difficult than all the previous choices combined.

Before, the options were mostly about choosing between being a good person or a villain. This time, the choice was clearly between being a jerk—or, well, a different kind of jerk.

Yet, after a brief internal conflict, Lucas made his decision.

"La Signora."

It felt a bit cruel to Scaramouche, but Lucas had never seen her in that way. If this incident could make her give up on those feelings, it might be for the best.

[You finally rejected Scaramouche, making the excuse that you needed to complete some work in the lab before hastily leaving the house. As you left, you caught a glimpse of the deep disappointment in her eyes, but you steeled yourself and walked away.]

[To celebrate the victory, Snezhnaya lifted the curfew for three days, allowing the citizens to revel all night. To avoid being recognized, you disguised yourself before heading to the lab. Originally, only two keys existed for the lab—yours and Scaramouche's—but now, a third key had been given to another person: La Signora. You unlocked the door with your key…]

"Enter immersive mode."

This time, Lucas entered the simulation without hesitation.

Truthfully, he could have chosen another place for these secret meetings with La Signora, but to avoid complications, he stuck with the lab. Besides, La Signora didn't seem to mind—she'd even mentioned liking the cold, hard surface of the lab table.

"You're here?"

Sure enough, a familiar figure had been waiting for some time inside the lab.

With the war in Natlan occupying most of his attention, it had been a while since Lucas last helped La Signora "treat" her condition.

"Yes, Scaramouche kept me for a bit," Lucas nodded, then paused. "Wait, have you been drinking?"

Sure enough, a wine glass sat beside La Signora, with half of its contents remaining.

"Consider it a toast to your success," La Signora said, offering a rare smile. "Though, only as the Eighth Harbinger."

"And as yourself?" Lucas stepped closer, lifting her chin with his fingers. "What gift do you have for me in that capacity?"

A blush crept across her face as she reached behind her, pulling out a small bottle filled with slime condensate.

Slime condensate was a material derived from the body of a Slime, often used for its elastic and moldable properties in industrial applications. It could even be eaten, though it had little nutritional value and a rather bland taste, akin to jelly in the real world.

Of course, like jelly, it had other uses beyond being eaten.

A man of Lucas's experience quickly understood its implication. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "But… haven't you always refused to do something like this?"

It was true—while he and La Signora had maintained an intimate relationship, it had always been rather conservative. Certain acts, especially those requiring her to kneel before him, had been out of the question, given her pride.

"Just this once," La Signora huffed, her voice cold. "Don't expect it to happen again."

Slime condensate was a peculiar substance.

Though it came from the body of a magical creature, it lacked any signs of life itself. As food, it provided no real nourishment and tasted rather bland, aside from its unusual texture.

However, for "other purposes," its effects were extraordinary.

Even with La Signora's somewhat clumsy attempts, the slime condensate helped magnify the experience, making it far more than the sum of its parts.

Yet, more than the physical sensation, watching the usually proud La Signora lower herself before him filled Lucas with a sense of conquest that was far more satisfying than anything physical.

"Aren't you… done yet?" La Signora shot him a weary glance. Despite her immense strength, even she couldn't help but feel a bit of fatigue.

"Almost," Lucas replied, keeping his rhythm steady. "It won't be long now."

"Almost there."

"Just a bit more."

These were, without a doubt, the lies Lucas had told the most in his life. He had deceived Shenhe with them many times before, and now La Signora too.

Finally, after another half hour, Lucas "hit the jackpot."

"Cough, cough…"

La Signora coughed awkwardly. During the process, she had accidentally swallowed some of the slime condensate, along with something else of a similar texture.

She wasn't sure why she had agreed to do something like this. Perhaps she simply wanted to celebrate Lucas's return, or maybe she wanted to show her gratitude in her own way.

Of course, she kept telling herself that this didn't change how much she hated him.

"This treatment was an interesting experiment," Lucas remarked as he dressed. "Perhaps we should explore more 'medical solutions' in the future."

"I refuse," La Signora retorted, her cold demeanor back in place. "I told you, this was a one-time thing."

"Nothing is ever absolute," Lucas teased, raising an eyebrow. "Besides… it didn't seem like you hated it all that much, did you? To be honest, out of all the gifts I received upon my return, yours might be tied for first place."

"Tied?" La Signora sneered. "Let me guess, the other gift… it's from that little brat, isn't it?"

The "little brat" was, of course, Scaramouche. Though the nickname was a bit of a stretch, it made sense coming from the tall and statuesque La Signora.

"Yes, she—like you," Lucas said with a knowing smile, "is struggling to do something she's not very good at."

"My apologies for being clumsy and untalented," La Signora scoffed. "I suppose, in your eyes, that brat is more important."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

Why… did I say something like that? It almost sounds… like I'm jealous.

"Scaramouche is important to me," Lucas said seriously. "But there's no comparing the two of you."

There truly was no comparison.

Lucas's relationship with Scaramouche was more akin to that of Leon and Mathilda in *Léon: The Professional*, or Silco and Jinx in *Arcane*. To him, Scaramouche represented a deeper emotional bond—something closer to family, even more intimate than actual blood relations.

"So… in the end, I really can't compare to her, can I?"

A soft, pained voice suddenly echoed from behind, catching Lucas completely off guard. He turned swiftly to see a familiar figure standing at the door, staring at the two of them with a complicated expression.

It was Scaramouche!

Lucas hadn't expected her to show up here, and given the current situation between him and La Signora, even a fool could guess what had happened.

"Scaramouche…" Lucas forced himself to remain calm. "When… when did you get here?"

With his strength, it was unlikely that anyone could approach without him noticing, but he had let his guard down during the "treatment," and Scaramouche's stealth abilities were extraordinary.

"Since you two… started doing that," Scaramouche muttered through gritted teeth. "No wonder you never accepted me… It's all because of her, isn't it?"

"It's not like that!" Lucas shook his head. "The two things aren't related at all. She's just—"

"You don't need to explain," Scaramouche interrupted, her lips curling into a bitter smile. "Of course, you prefer this kind of woman. To you, I'm not even a real woman… no, I'm just a puppet. You never saw me as human at all!"

It was no surprise that Scaramouche was furious. The man she loved had chosen to be with her most hated rival. If not for her immense self-control, she might have already lashed out.

"This isn't what you think," Lucas sighed. "Let's go home, and I'll explain everything."

But there was no way to explain things in this situation.

"No need..." Scaramouche's expression was heartbroken. "I guess I was just… an extra all along. I wish you both… the worst."

With that, the girl turned and ran out the door without looking back.

"Wait!" Lucas tried to follow, but he was still half-dressed. Shaking his head, he muttered, "That girl…"

"Aren't you going after her?" La Signora finally spoke up.

"Chasing her now would only cause a bigger scene," Lucas sighed. "She'll go home eventually. Once she's calmed down, I'll explain everything to her."

"But aren't you afraid…" La Signora's voice carried a hint of tension, "that she might reveal our secret?"

"Don't worry. I know her," Lucas said confidently. "Besides, even if she did, what would happen? Do you think the Tsaritsa would punish me for something like this after I just brought back such a victory?"

"Never underestimate a woman…" La Signora warned softly. "Especially when it comes to matters of the heart. They're capable of anything."

"Is that so..." Lucas looked at La Signora with a teasing expression. "So, you do have emotions after all?"

"People aren't made of stone; of course, they have feelings..." La Signora's gaze softened momentarily before snapping back to its usual sharpness. She cast a sidelong glance at Lucas and added, "But my feelings will never have anything to do with someone like you."

"That's fine," Lucas responded nonchalantly. "I'm not interested in your emotions. Your body is all I need."

After spending time with her, Lucas had come to terms with things.

La Signora and Rosaline were two different entities, more like a connection between past and present lives than the same person. The comfort he found in La Signora had nothing to do with the memories of Rosaline.

Surprisingly, La Signora didn't get angry at his remark. She only sighed wearily. "Get out of here, go back to your little brat."

Without saying more, Lucas donned his coat, put on his mask, and disappeared into the darkness outside the door.

"You're lucky..." La Signora muttered to herself. "At least you have someone to hold onto. But I... have nothing."

[Exit Immersive Mode]

[Enter Text Mode]

[You thought that, as usual, Scaramouche would eventually forgive you after you sweet-talked her enough. But this time, things were different. Scaramouche seemed genuinely angry, and for a whole month, she refused to speak to you.]

[When she finally did, her first words were simply a formal greeting during an official meeting of the Harbingers. "Hello," she said.]

[You tried several times to have a proper conversation with her, but she never gave you the chance, refusing to speak beyond necessity. She even began requesting more external missions to avoid you.]

[The only small comfort was that she didn't move out of your house. As long as you both lived under the same roof, you still considered yourselves family. You figured that it was only a matter of time until things eased between you—but time was something you had in abundance.]

[So, a strange dynamic developed. On the surface, you and Scaramouche seemed close, but in reality, you were estranged. Meanwhile, you and La Signora appeared to be at odds, yet behind closed doors, your relationship was... intimate.]

…

[Age 538: A young man named Ajax was promoted by the Fifth Harbinger, Pulcinella, to become the newest and last of the Fatui Harbingers, code-named "Tartaglia." Unlike the others, he hadn't been directly chosen; he had risen through the ranks from a lowly Fatui soldier. Although he held the lowest position, his potential and combat instincts even made you take notice.]

[Despite his position, Tartaglia was anything but humble. He didn't bow to any of his "seniors." But when it came to you, he showed great respect, telling you that it was his admiration for you that led him to join the Fatui.]

[Unbeknownst to you, you had become a figure of admiration for many in Snezhnaya. The Fatui's growth was partly driven by people joining in hopes of following your example.]

[Age 539: Just as raw jade must be polished, so must young warriors hone their skills. You created a large number of undead soldiers for Tartaglia to train against, using the opportunity to gather more data and improve the combat capabilities of your creations.]

[In time, you and Tartaglia became something close to friends. His enthusiasm and carefree nature were a refreshing contrast to the usual atmosphere within the Fatui. Occasionally, his demeanor reminded you of a certain someone—Rostam, your once-dear friend.]

[Age 540: Snezhnaya's power continued to grow, and the annexation of Natlan caused the nation to expand further. However, this strength also worried the Tsaritsa. She knew all too well that the tallest tree in the forest is the first to be felled. The last nation to rise to such prominence met a tragic end—the destruction of Khaenri'ah, a conflict she had personally witnessed.]

[Under Pierro's advice and long-term planning, the Tsaritsa finally announced the "Gnosis Collection Plan"—a mission to collect the Hearts of all the Archons, regardless of the cost.]

[The Heart of the Pyro Archon had already been secured as part of the unequal treaty with Natlan.]

[Naturally, the Fatui Harbingers were tasked with leading these missions. Tartaglia was sent to Liyue, La Signora to Mondstadt, and Scaramouche volunteered to go to Inazuma.]

[After the fallout from your last incident, your relationship with Scaramouche had hit rock bottom. Even so, you sought her out, urging her to reconsider the mission. Deep inside, you had a terrible premonition that something disastrous would happen if Scaramouche went to Inazuma.]

[But Scaramouche refused outright, even hinting that her reasons for going extended beyond just retrieving the Gnosis. She promised that when she returned, she would surprise you.]

[You didn't know what her other objective was, but you understood that once she set her mind on something, there was no changing it. However, to ensure her safety, you ordered the Dragon Ursa to wait near Inazuma and assist her if she encountered any danger.]

[Age 541: La Signora's mission went smoothly. In Mondstadt, she successfully retrieved the Anemo Archon Barbatos's Gnosis. Though Mondstadt's morale had taken a heavy blow, there were rumors that Barbatos's powers had already waned.]

[Even so, a god's power should never be underestimated. Whether Barbatos's weakened state was genuine or part of a deeper ploy remained a mystery.]

[Age 542: While on his mission, Tartaglia encountered setbacks, leading him to unleash The Overlord of the Vortex Osial, causing catastrophic damage to Liyue. Although the people of Liyue managed to seal Osial once again, Tartaglia's actions made both the Fatui and Snezhnaya targets of widespread condemnation.]

[That "disaster" turned out to be part of the Geo Archon Morax's plan. As a result, his Gnosis was handed over to La Signora as payment. Now, Snezhnaya held four of the seven Gnosis.]

[To celebrate, the Tsaritsa hosted a grand ceremony. Just as everyone began to think that the Gnosis Collection Plan would continue smoothly, a deafening roar echoed from outside the palace. Your heart sank, for you recognized that roar—it belonged to the Dragon Ursa.]

[You rushed out of the palace, your usually calm demeanor replaced by rare panic. The scene that greeted you was shocking.]

[Dragon Ursa was sprawled across the palace square, its tough scales covered in wounds. The most noticeable injury was a long gash, exposing the rotting muscle beneath.]

[You knew that Dragon Ursa possessed the power of a demigod, with extraordinary defense. To inflict such damage, the attacker had to be either a more powerful god or a being of equal strength.]

[Then, you saw a figure tumble off Dragon Ursa's back. Rushing forward, you caught her in your arms—Scaramouche, badly injured and on the verge of collapse. Her body was covered in wounds, but when she saw your face, she managed a weak smile and whispered in your ear: "I did it… I really… did it…"]

[She then passed out. Before the Tsaritsa could give an order, you took her straight to your lab. As the best doctor in the world, only you could save her.]

------

[Even though you knew that Scaramouche was just a puppet and no matter how severe her injuries, you could repair her, this time, a strange sense of anxiety weighed on your heart.]

[You expertly picked up the scalpel, intending to slice through Scaramouche's skin as you had many times before. But just as the blade touched her body, your hand suddenly froze.]

[You've dissected tens of thousands of bodies. Even the slightest sensation through the blade tip is enough for you to understand the condition of the skin beneath it. And now, you felt something unmistakable—the skin you were about to cut wasn't the material of a puppet. It was real human skin—alive, warm, fragile.]

[Soon, you discovered something shocking: Scaramouche's body, once purely mechanical, had transformed into that of a real human. The intricate components inside her had become human organs, and the tiny power core that once sustained her was now a beating heart—weak and on the verge of failure.]

[You didn't know why Scaramouche's body had undergone this transformation. You only knew one thing: healing a human was far more difficult than repairing a puppet.]

[Scaramouche, severely injured, coughed up blood. You held her face in your hands, murmuring, "You won't die... I swear, I won't let you die!"]

[You had treated countless patients before, but you'd never felt nervous. To you, every human body was just a machine, a system to be fixed using a precise method. But now, with someone so important lying on your operating table, for the first time, your hand holding the scalpel began to tremble uncontrollably.]

[Scaramouche's injuries were severe, but it seemed that a strange power was slowly healing her. That power felt familiar—as if you had encountered something similar when you held the Pyro Archon's Gnosis years ago.]

[You had no time to think about the connection. Your entire focus was on this operation. You'd never failed before, and this time, you absolutely couldn't afford to fail.]

[At last, after an intense operation, you managed to stabilize Scaramouche's condition. Though still unconscious, she was no longer in immediate danger. Just as you were about to exhale in relief, La Signora suddenly entered the room, her expression complex as she informed you that the Tsaritsa was calling a Harbinger meeting, and you were required to attend.]

[You noticed the unusual look in La Signora's eyes but decided to accompany her. When you arrived, an informant embedded in Inazuma was reporting the details of what had transpired.]

[Everything had gone according to plan. Scaramouche had stationed herself at the Delusion factory on Yashiori Island, assisting in the manufacture and distribution of Delusions. Through a mysterious "transaction," Scaramouche had successfully obtained the Gnosis from Yae Miko, the head priestess of the Grand Narukami Shrine.]

[However, after acquiring the Gnosis, Scaramouche suddenly betrayed Yae Miko, launching a surprise attack and severely injuring her. This, in turn, alerted the Raiden Shogun, who quickly arrived and engaged Scaramouche in battle.]

[Despite the immense power of a god, Scaramouche was at a disadvantage. But for some reason, the Raiden Shogun never delivered a killing blow. In the heat of the battle, Dragon Ursa appeared, rescuing the heavily injured Scaramouche. Although the Raiden Shogun attacked Ursa, the dragon managed to escape.]

Seeing these events unfold, Lucas was left utterly shocked.

This isn't right!

This isn't how things were supposed to go at all!

He distinctly remembered that in the original storyline, after obtaining the Gnosis, Scaramouche was supposed to disappear temporarily. But here, in the simulation, why did she attack Yae Miko?

[As the report concluded, everyone knew what had happened. Dragon Ursa had brought the heavily wounded Scaramouche back to Snezhnaya. Tsaritsa did not ask about Scaramouche's injuries but instead questioned you about the whereabouts of the Electro Gnosis. You truthfully told her that you hadn't found the Gnosis yet and that the full truth could only be learned after Scaramouche regained consciousness.]

[Tsaritsa didn't say much, but she did inform you that Tartaglia's actions in Liyue had already put Snezhnaya under heavy scrutiny. Scaramouche's behavior had further pushed the country to the brink of crisis. You were advised to prepare for the severe consequences Scaramouche would soon face.]

[Sure enough, a few days later, Inazuma sent a diplomatic envoy—General Kujou Sara—delivering an ultimatum.]

[It was revealed that after obtaining the Gnosis, Scaramouche had absorbed its power into her body. Overwhelmed by the immense strength, she had lost control, which led to her grievously wounding Yae Miko and drawing the attention of the Raiden Shogun.]

[Kujou Sara stated that the severity of this incident could not be overstated. She demanded that Snezhnaya hand over both Scaramouche and the Gnosis, as well as pay a hefty reparation. Otherwise, Inazuma would use this as a pretext to form an alliance with other nations and declare war on Snezhnaya.]

[For years, Snezhnaya's actions had angered the other nations. They had tolerated it only due to Snezhnaya's immense military strength. Now, with Scaramouche's "crime," they had the perfect reason to band together and weaken Snezhnaya.]

[For any ruler, this was an easy decision. While Snezhnaya was strong, it wasn't yet powerful enough to stand against the combined forces of every other nation.]

[Moreover, Scaramouche's decision to absorb the Gnosis without permission was a clear act of betrayal. Whether handed over or not, she was bound to face severe punishment.]

[Thus, Tsaritsa made an immediate decision: Snezhnaya would hand over Scaramouche.]

[You, of course, protested right away. Tsaritsa, as if expecting this, calmly told you that she was already aware of your relationship with La Signora. If you were willing to give up Scaramouche, not only would she spare you both from any punishment, but she would also arrange for you to marry La Signora. Furthermore, La Signora had already agreed to this.]

[Faced with the Tsaritsa's "offer," your choices were...]

[1. Agree and give up Scaramouche.]

[2. Refuse and insist on protecting Scaramouche.]

[3. Temporarily agree, but plan a rescue later.]

Scaramouche must not be abandoned.

Lucas knew this all too well.

But outright refusing the Tsaritsa's suggestion would mean outright defiance, committing a grave crime of insubordination. Not only would it make protecting Scaramouche impossible, but it would also endanger himself.

"I choose... the third option."

[You agreed to the Tsaritsa's conditions for now, but you immediately began planning a way to rescue Scaramouche.]

[Not long after, Scaramouche regained consciousness and confessed everything. Tsaritsa ordered her to be imprisoned.]

[With the Gnosis now inside Scaramouche, surrendering her would mean giving up the Gnosis as well. Handing it over after all that effort wasn't something Tsaritsa wanted either.]

[At this point, you offered a solution: you could extract the Gnosis from Scaramouche's body and replace it with a fake. That way, when Snezhnaya handed her over, Inazuma would receive a powerless puppet, severing any further ties to Snezhnaya.]

[Tsaritsa was suspicious, but she agreed. After all, no one else in Teyvat had the skills necessary for such a procedure.]

[As you prepared to enter the prison, you encountered a familiar figure.]

[Entering Immersive Mode!]

The figure approaching was none other than La Signora.

She seemed to have been waiting for Lucas, anticipating his arrival.

"You've come after all," she said, her tone unusually calm compared to her usual disdain. "Do you really think you can extract the Gnosis from Scaramouche's body?"

"We won't know until we try," Lucas replied with a smile. "It's all for the greater plan."

"You should know by now," La Signora added, her voice cool, "Tsaritsa has already approved our marriage. Once this is over, we'll be wed."

"I didn't expect you to agree to such a thing," Lucas's smile turned teasing. "I thought you hated me."

"I do hate you. Even now," La Signora shook her head. "But this is Tsaritsa's order. I have no choice."

"Well then, I suppose I should thank both of you," Lucas said, spreading his arms. "But why did you come here? Just to tell me how lucky I am?"

"No," La Signora leaned in, whispering in his ear. "I came to warn you not to do anything foolish. Tsaritsa has taken precautions. If you think you'll be able to rescue Scaramouche during this, you won't even make it out of the prison."

"Thanks for the warning, but don't worry," Lucas smiled. "I'm quite fond of living."

As Lucas walked into the prison, La Signora murmured, "For your sake, I hope that's true... for both of us."

Scaramouche was imprisoned in the most heavily guarded cell, reserved for only the worst criminals.

Finally, after opening the thick iron doors, Lucas saw her familiar face.

"You've come... You finally came."

To his surprise, Scaramouche seemed in good spirits. Far from her cold demeanor before, she smiled at him. "I knew you would come for me."

Scaramouche had been transferred here right after regaining consciousness, leaving Lucas without a chance to speak with her.

Now, all the questions swirling in his mind condensed into just one bitter sentence: "Why did you do it?"

"Because... I wanted to be human."

Scaramouche looked down at her hands, her eyes soft. "I wanted to hold you, for you to feel my warmth. I wanted to be like other women and do with you... the things you do with them."

"And for that reason alone?" Lucas asked sternly. "Do you know the chaos you've caused?"

"I know exactly what I did," Scaramouche replied, her voice steady. "I also know this is probably the last time I'll ever see you. La Signora came to see me earlier. She said she would take good care of you. Do you know why I always hated her? Because I was so jealous. Jealous that she had a human body and could always catch your eye."

"So, before I die, fulfill my final wish," Scaramouche stepped forward and embraced Lucas tightly, her voice full of contentment. "Even if it's only once, I want to become one with you... as a human."

Whether it was stealing the Gnosis or betraying the Tsaritsa, even knowing it would cost her life... 

All of it was for this reason?

Regret gnawed at Lucas. If only, just once, he had accepted Scaramouche's "request," maybe things wouldn't have reached this point.

This foolish girl had believed that the reason he kept rejecting her was simply because she wasn't human.

"Smack!"

Lucas's fist came down hard on Scaramouche's head. Her newly human body, still not used to pain, couldn't withstand the blow, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"W-What was that for?" Scaramouche whimpered, rubbing her head. "I was just getting into the mood!"

"Sorry about that," Lucas chuckled, clapping the dust off his hands. "But as for what you just said... I'll have to refuse."

"W-What..."

A deep sense of disappointment spread across Scaramouche's face as she murmured, "Everything I did... was for this moment, and even now, you're still going to reject me?"

"You're wrong. What I'm rejecting isn't this," Lucas replied calmly. "What I'm rejecting is the idea of letting you die."

"That's impossible," Scaramouche shook her head. "This prison is the most heavily guarded place in all of Snezhnaya."

"I know that better than anyone," Lucas shrugged. "After all, I helped plan the construction of this prison. I memorized every part of its design."

Lucas, who could remember even the most complex medical textbooks, had no trouble committing the entire blueprint of the prison to memory.

"Even so, what difference does it make?" Scaramouche glanced at her ankle, where a sturdy iron shackle was fastened. "With this thing still on me, there's no way I can leave, even if you wanted to."

It wasn't an ordinary shackle but one crafted from special steel and cold iron by Snezhnaya's finest artisans under the Tsaritsa's orders. Unless someone had the key, only the Tsaritsa herself could remove it.

It was like the iron chain around Xiao Zhao's ankle in *The Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber*—nothing could break it except the Heaven-Relying Sword.

Lucas thought of making a joke about whether Scaramouche had changed her underwear in the past few days, but it felt inappropriate for the moment, so he kept quiet.

"This chain?" Lucas squatted down in front of Scaramouche, gripping the iron links with both hands. "Let me give it a try."

"Don't bother," Scaramouche shook her head. "After absorbing the Gnosis, my strength increased significantly, but even with that, I couldn't break it. How could you…"

*Snap!

With a crisp sound, the unyielding cold-iron chain shattered into pieces, falling to the ground.

Scaramouche blinked in disbelief, muttering, "How... how did you do that?"

"Well…" Lucas dusted off his hands nonchalantly. "Maybe I'm just a little stronger than you thought."

Lucas had never displayed his full strength to anyone. Even to Scaramouche, who was closest to him, he seemed like nothing more than a "decently fit, slightly hunched older man."

The only one who had a vague understanding of his true strength was La Signora—after all, an ordinary human couldn't withstand her physical prowess or possess such enduring stamina.

"Stop kidding around. You must have used some sort of trick," Scaramouche still refused to believe that Lucas had broken the chain purely through strength. Suspiciously, she asked, "Did you develop some kind of acid that corrodes metal?"

To Scaramouche—and indeed, to most people in Snezhnaya—the Harbinger known as "The Doctor" was regarded as a brilliant mastermind. Within the Fatui, he was more akin to a strategist or advisor than a fighter.

Most believed that the Doctor's position among the powerful Harbingers was due to his intelligence, not physical prowess.

No one knew the true nature of the body that housed his brilliant mind.

"Oh, yes, yes! You caught me," Lucas replied playfully, not bothering to deny it. "You're a sharp one, aren't you?"

"Now's not the time for jokes," Scaramouche said, her expression complicated. "You must realize how slim the chances are of successfully escaping. Even if you did, you'd be hunted by Snezhnaya for the rest of your life, never finding peace…"

"Enough with the chatter. Just tell me this—do you want to leave?" Lucas extended a hand to Scaramouche. "Come with me, and we'll get out of here together."

"Do you even have to ask?" Without hesitation, Scaramouche grasped his hand firmly. "If we're caught, we'll die together."

"Good," Lucas nodded. "Now, we can move on to the next step. Of the guards watching over you, which one do you dislike the most?"

"Number 4524," Scaramouche frowned. "Every time he's on shift, he looks at me with this disgusting gaze."

Even in her puppet form, Scaramouche had always been strikingly beautiful, though her clothing and demeanor often led people to mistake her for a cute boy. Now, as a human, her appearance had become even more alluring. If it weren't for the strict supervision in the prison, there might have been some unscrupulous guards who would have tried something indecent.

"Then it's him," Lucas said as he pulled out a communicator. "Guard 4524, come here."

"Y-Yes, sir!"

The voice on the other end sounded nervous. Moments later, a gaunt guard in his forties entered the cell, bowing respectfully. "What are your orders, Doctor?"

"Oh, nothing much," Lucas smiled. "I just need to borrow something from you."

"W-What is it?" the guard asked, his voice trembling.

"Your life."

Before the guard could react, he collapsed to the floor, lifeless. Even Scaramouche, with her sharp skills, could barely follow Lucas's movements—it seemed he had simply tapped the man's temple lightly with his finger.

Could it be that... Doctor was actually as powerful as he claimed?

---

Author's Note: Join my discord at discord.gg/NiaxD

Ten minutes later, with the cell door open, Lucas and the guard who had entered earlier left the prison together.

"Doctor, have you finished your task?" another guard asked.

"Not yet. I need to retrieve something and this guy will help me," Lucas patted the guard on the shoulder. "I've already administered a sedative to Scaramouche. Until I return, do not open the cell door under any circumstances."

"Understood!"

The guard seemed deeply honored. After all, who would question the orders of a national hero like Lucas? "Shall I send a few men to assist you? Guard 4524 isn't exactly known for his strength. I could find some stronger lads to help."

"No need. This guy will suffice." Lucas shook his head and then coldly barked at Guard 4524, "Why are you standing there like an idiot? Get moving!"

Guard 4524 said nothing, only nodding silently as he hurriedly followed Lucas.

Once they had walked about 30 meters, ensuring no one else was around, Guard 4524 suddenly spoke in a clear, feminine voice, "I can't believe we actually got away with it."

Indeed, Lucas's plan was surprisingly simple. Using his masterful disguise techniques, he had transformed Scaramouche into the likeness of a guard, allowing them to slip away unnoticed.

With the influence the "Doctor" wielded in Snezhnaya, no one dared to suspect him. Most importantly, the other guards wouldn't believe that a lowly, unassuming guard had been switched right under their noses.

"This was just the easiest part," Lucas replied, showing no signs of relief. "The hard part comes next."

Lucas knew full well that a simple plan like this might fool the guards, but it wouldn't deceive Tsaritsa or the other Harbingers.

Especially Tsaritsa. She had likely been aware of Lucas's intentions for some time. There was a good chance that soldiers were already stationed outside the prison, waiting to ambush him and Scaramouche the moment they stepped out.

This prison break was a gamble from the start.

Even with just a one-in-a-million chance, Lucas had to take the risk.

"What's your plan?" Scaramouche asked, her voice tinged with nervousness.

"I've already instructed Ursa to be on standby," Lucas replied. "As long as we make it out of Snezhnaya, we'll be fine."

"Leave Snezhnaya…" Scaramouche murmured. "And after that, where will we go?"

"Did you know? I bought a piece of land in Sumeru. It's not large, but I've opened a small winery there. I hired some fruit farmers, a winemaker, and even a bard," Lucas gently patted her head with a smile. "We could live in seclusion there—make wine, listen to music. If you'd like, we could even adopt a few kids…"

No one would believe that such words would come from someone who, in the eyes of the world, was no less than a devil.

As Lucas spoke, a soft look of longing appeared in Scaramouche's eyes. 

In the past, she would have scoffed at such sentiments, ridiculing him for dreaming up such nonsense. 

But now, she could picture it in her mind—a peaceful and beautiful future.

"Maybe…" Scaramouche whispered, "we don't need to adopt."

After all, she was no longer a mere puppet. Her body now had the capability to create life.

Lucas immediately understood what Scaramouche was implying, but he could only offer a wry smile in response.

In this world, thanks to the curse he bore from researching immortality, Lucas had long lost the ability to have children.

---

And so, as they walked down that not-so-long prison corridor, Lucas and Scaramouche hastily planned out a future worth dreaming about.

However, deep down, both of them knew that this dream was as fragile as a soap bubble.

Contrary to Lucas's expectations, when they exited the prison gates, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were no ambushes—just a few guards smoking and chatting casually.

Given his understanding of the Tsaritsa, Lucas found it impossible to believe she would be so careless. If Scaramouche wasn't handed over, it could bring a massive crisis to Snezhnaya.

But he had no time to dwell on it. Lucas whistled sharply, and a black shadow loomed overhead. From the sky, a massive, jet-black dragon descended, flames of malevolent energy rippling across its body. The dragon landed right in front of Lucas.

This was one of Lucas's greatest creations—the dragon Ursa the Drake.

Creating such a powerful being without divine intervention was a feat only a few people could match, like the alchemist Gold from the fallen nation of Khaenri'ah or Lucas himself.

The few guards nearby jumped in fright at the sight of the massive dragon. Even Scaramouche couldn't help but pale a little.

"What are you waiting for? Get on!" Lucas patted Scaramouche on the shoulder. "Don't worry. It doesn't bite."

Scaramouche huffed softly but leaped onto Ursa's back. Surprisingly, the terrifying dragon let out a low, almost pitiful whimper, seemingly uncomfortable with someone other than Lucas riding it.

"Quit acting like that," Lucas tapped Ursa's head lightly. "From now on, this woman is your master too. Make sure you protect her."

At that moment, Scaramouche's eyes widened in surprise. "W-What did you just say?"

"I said make sure Ursa protects you," Lucas answered, puzzled. "Wait… you don't have your recording device anymore, do you?"

In the past, as a puppet, Scaramouche had several useful mechanical components built into her body.

"Not that!" Scaramouche shook her head. "What you said before that!"

"What I said before…?" Lucas thought for a moment before replying casually, "This… woman?"

"Yes!" Scaramouche's face lit up with joy. "You finally… acknowledged that I'm a woman!"

"Is now the time to talk about that? Fine, fine! You're a woman—adorable, beautiful, soft, and warm!" Lucas sighed and then muttered under his breath, "And also… mine."

As he prepared to jump onto Ursa's back, a sudden sense of danger made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Over the past five centuries, it wasn't just his physical strength that had been enhanced—his senses had become incredibly sharp as well.

Just as he was about to pull Scaramouche off the dragon, a massive arrow of ice shot from the distance, heading straight for Ursa.

Though shaped like an arrow, its size dwarfed even the bolts fired by siege crossbows. This was no ordinary attack—it was divine power, prepared and unleashed at just the right moment.

Even with all his strength, Lucas couldn't stop the incoming projectile. With a loud crack, the giant ice arrow pierced Ursa's chest, and in an instant, both the dragon and Scaramouche were encased in ice.

"Doctor…" an icy, commanding voice echoed from above. "You've disappointed me."

Hovering in the sky was none other than the Tsaritsa, surrounded by swirling snow and ice. Her gaze was cold and imperious, and her presence made the temperature around them plummet dramatically.

The sky darkened, heavy snow began to fall, and thick clouds rolled in, casting everything in a gray, oppressive light.

It had been 500 years since the Tsaritsa had revealed her true power, not since the end of the Khaenri'ah war.

Now, before Lucas's eyes, her youthful appearance was changing rapidly. She transformed into a tall, mature woman with a curvaceous figure, her elegant robes expanding along with her form.

"I gave you chance after chance," the Tsaritsa sighed, though her breath turned into a swirling blizzard. "Doctor, I've always acknowledged the contributions you've made to this nation, but don't think for a moment that I won't punish you."

"I have no intention of opposing you, Your Majesty," Lucas responded with rare humility. "I'm willing to give up everything, even my own life, if it means sparing Scaramouche."

"You don't have the right to negotiate with me," the Tsaritsa said, her tone brooking no argument. "But I will offer you one last chance—give up Scaramouche. The previous deal I offered you still stands. Even if I spare her, Inazuma won't. Protecting her means opposing Snezhnaya… and the world."

Lucas's expression twisted into a bitter smile. "Why is it that despite all I've done for this world, it still insists on pushing me to the brink? Mondstadt, Snezhnaya… I've sacrificed everything for you, and yet, you leave me no choice but to stand against you."

"You've grown arrogant, Doctor. It's almost laughable," the Tsaritsa sneered. "But that ends now. I will ensure your treachery remains hidden, and when you die, I will have you buried as a hero in the Saintess' Cemetery."

The Saintess' Cemetery was the highest honor in Snezhnaya—a burial ground reserved for the nation's most revered figures.

In her own way, the Tsaritsa was being "merciful."

"Sorry, but I've always hated cemeteries," Lucas said, his tone darkening. "All those bodies, rotting away in the dirt… Such a waste of useful material."

"How dare you threaten me?" the Tsaritsa's voice turned icy. "Very well, you'll soon see the consequences of defying me."

With a wave of her hand, the block of ice containing Scaramouche broke free from Usar and floated toward the Tsaritsa.

"If we want to extract the Gnosis, we'll need to destroy this 'vessel,'" the Tsaritsa said coolly. "Inazuma will have no objection to receiving her corpse."

"Give Scaramouche back!" Lucas leaped toward her, but just then, a lightning-clad spear came hurtling toward him from a distance.

Lucas instinctively unsheathed a katana from his waist and sliced the spear in half in mid-air.

The sword was a gift from the "General," a fellow Harbinger, after Lucas's triumphant return from the war with Natlan—a weapon fittingly called Oni-Cutter.

As if on cue, a familiar, confident voice echoed nearby, accompanied by light laughter. "I knew it."

From the shadows emerged a man with striking orange hair and a mask on his face—none other than Childe.

"Doctor, you've been hiding your true power all this time," Childe said with a grin. "That strike was incredible."

"Childe…" Lucas narrowed his eyes. "Are you here to stop me?"

Indeed, the one who had attacked Lucas moments ago was the Eleventh Harbinger, Childe.

"Honestly, I'd love to test my strength against yours, Doctor," Childe said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "But the Tsaritsa has ordered five of us to… take you down."

True enough, four other Harbingers appeared alongside Childe: Z (the Rooster), Columbina (the Damselette), Sandrone (the Marionette), and Capitano (the Captain).

Oddly enough, despite the overwhelming odds, Lucas felt a brief sense of relief.

At least La Signora wasn't among them.

To deploy almost half of the Fatui's elite Harbingers just to deal with Lucas proved that the Tsaritsa acknowledged his formidable power.

Though the Harbingers varied in strength, even the weakest among them had power rivaling that of gods, with the top-ranking Pierro (the Jester) possibly being as strong as a deity himself.

"No need for hesitation," the Tsaritsa commanded coldly. "Eliminate him immediately."

For the Tsaritsa, extracting the Gnosis from Scaramouche was the top priority, leaving the task of defeating Lucas to the other Harbingers.

"Doctor, just surrender already," Capitano, the Tenth Harbinger, stepped forward with a sneer. "Sure, you're high-ranked, but that's only because you've been around longer than most of us. While we were risking our lives on the frontlines, you were cozy in your lab, enjoying your wine and women. Why should someone like you be above us?"

Lucas didn't know much about Capitano, only that he had always resented his lower rank. This was likely his chance to settle the score by belittling the Doctor.

"Why?" Lucas raised his katana, Oni-Cutter, and casually swung it at Capitano.

"For this."

Lucas's swing seemed weak and aimless, as if a completely untrained person had casually waved a sword. He stood at least ten meters away from Capitano, so it was clear that the strike couldn't possibly reach him—it appeared to be little more than an empty gesture.

"Is that all you've got?" Capitano sneered, a mocking smile crossing his face. "I actually expected something from your power, but... *smack*!"

A soft sound, as though something had dropped to the ground, echoed in the air.

At first, Capitano didn't feel anything, but as he instinctively reached for his weapon, he noticed something shocking—his right arm had been severed without him realizing it, now lying at his feet.

"W-what…what is this? My arm!" Capitano screamed, disbelief overtaking him. "How...how could this happen?"

"This sword is called Oni-Cutter. It's not just any weapon—it's my 'scalpel.' People cut by this sword don't feel any pain, which means I can skip the step of administering anesthesia," Lucas explained calmly. "In other words, I can make you watch as I slice your body into pieces, bit by bit."

In truth, Capitano's strength was formidable—as one of the Fatui Harbingers, he wasn't to be underestimated. The only reason he had been caught off guard was his arrogance.

"Damn you! You think you can underestimate me?" Capitano growled. Although a sense of fear had surfaced in his heart, there was no way he could back down in this situation. After all, there were still four other Harbingers beside him. No matter how strong the Doctor was, it was impossible for him to face all five at once.

But just as Capitano was about to retreat a couple of steps, an unexpected development occurred—he felt a sharp pain in his chest. A spear tip, gleaming with purple energy, had pierced through his back and emerged from his chest.

The familiar weapon, glowing with a violet hue, belonged to none other than Childe.

"Huh?" Capitano gasped, turning around in disbelief. Standing behind him, Childe flashed a wicked grin. "Sorry, but unlike the Doctor's fancy weapon, this spear probably...hurts quite a bit."

"Childe! What are you doing?" The Fourth Harbinger, Columbina, eyed him darkly. "Are you betraying the Tsaritsa as well?"

"My loyalty to the Tsaritsa is unmatched," Childe responded casually as he walked over to stand beside Lucas, his tone nonchalant. "But I just did a little thinking. Fighting such a strong enemy as the Doctor would be loads of fun, but if I'm teaming up with you four, that takes away four-fifths of the excitement. And that would be such a waste. So, I'm going to kill you all first. Then I can have a one-on-one fight with the Doctor."

If anyone else had said this, they would have been dismissed as a lunatic.

But coming from Childe, it somehow made perfect sense. After all, he was a battle maniac—or perhaps, more accurately—a true madman.

Though his betrayal was unexpected, it wasn't entirely surprising.

The fight had barely begun, and one of the five Harbingers had already been critically wounded. What had started as a one-against-five situation had suddenly shifted to a two-on-three battle.

Moreover, Lucas had just demonstrated his incredible prowess. The sudden shift in circumstances only heightened the tension.

"Everyone, don't panic," Columbina, evidently the leader of this "elimination squad," quickly took control of the situation, maintaining her composure even after the unexpected twist. "It's still three against two. We hold the advantage."

Besides, the one who had switched sides was Childe, the lowest-ranked Harbinger. There should be no reason for this fight to be in doubt.

And indeed, it seemed so.

"Why are you doing this?" Lucas asked, eyeing the grin on Childe's face with a frown. "This is a foolish decision."

Lucas knew the words Childe had spoken were just an excuse. The real reason was much simpler—Childe just wanted to help him.

------

"I believe I made a smart decision," Childe stretched lazily and smiled. "After all, I don't want to end up dead by your hand."

Lucas, eager to save Scaramouche, had no intention of wasting time. Combining Inazuma's famed blade with the essence of the Favonius Swordmanship he had learned from his old friend "Rostam," what should have been a difficult battle against overwhelming odds turned into a one-sided slaughter by Lucas.

At that moment, the five Fatui Harbingers finally realized the terrifying truth—this silver-haired man, often holed up in his lab like a mad scientist, possessed perhaps the purest and most powerful strength among all eleven Harbingers.

Of the four Harbingers who fought, three were dead, and one was critically injured. Though Childe had betrayed, he barely had a chance to participate in the fight. Even the strongest among them, Columbina, couldn't withstand Lucas's onslaught.

The most ironic part was that Lucas wasn't even using the power of the Vision or the Delusion—he had defeated them all with nothing but swordsmanship.

The only one left alive was Capitano, who had been severely injured at the start.

After pulling his blade from Columbina's chest, Lucas glanced at Childe and asked, "So, are you going to fight me now?"

"Honestly, I'm tempted," Childe grinned. "But right now, saving Scaramouche is more important for you, isn't it? Let's save our fight for another time."

Lucas gave Childe a complicated look and, after a brief "Thank you," disappeared into the distance, racing toward the Tsaritsa's palace.

As soon as Lucas left, Childe's smile faded, and beads of cold sweat rolled down his forehead. He could barely keep himself standing—Lucas's killing intent had almost caused his legs to give out.

"Turns out, I'm the biggest coward after all. I'm sorry, Tsaritsa…" Childe muttered, trembling as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "I still have family… my younger siblings. I can't… die here."

"Coward…" Capitano, lying on the ground with his blood already frozen by the ice and snow, glared viciously at Childe. "Tsaritsa… she will never forgive you."

"If she finds out about this, she certainly won't," Childe sneered. "But how will she ever know?"

Capitano seemed to catch on to Childe's implication, and with a look of shock, he asked, "What… what are you planning?"

"Don't worry. I'll report to the Tsaritsa that Capitano, the Tenth Harbinger of the Fatui, fought bravely against the Doctor but ultimately succumbed to his injuries," Childe said calmly as he approached Capitano, standing over him. "Four dead and one injured—we were no match for the Doctor. But the one who's injured… isn't going to be you."

"You—"

Before Capitano could finish his sentence, Childe's spear had already pierced through his skull.

"I wonder… will my rank move up after you die?" Childe mused aloud, stabbing Capitano's corpse a few more times for good measure. After ensuring that all the other Harbingers were dead, he picked up a short knife and stabbed himself multiple times in the body.

Childe was infamous for his brutal and ruthless combat style—he was just as harsh on himself as he was on his enemies. As blood poured from his wounds, he finally collapsed, lying motionless on the ground. Staring at the distant ice palace shrouded in crimson clouds, he let out a bitter laugh. "Please… don't die, Tsaritsa."

Yes, at that moment, his concern was not whether Lucas would survive, but for the Tsaritsa's safety.

Indeed, as one of the Seven Archons, the Tsaritsa's power was overwhelmingly strong.

But the Doctor… was like an unfathomable abyss, and no one knew how many trump cards he still had hidden.

...

Inside the Palace of Snezhnaya

This grand palace, akin to Inazuma's Tenshukaku or Mondstadt's Favonius Cathedral, was the most prestigious building in the nation.

To the people of Snezhnaya, simply stepping inside was considered the highest honor.

For Lucas, the Third Harbinger of the Fatui, this palace was a familiar place. He was one of the few allowed to enter while bearing weapons.

But now, this former hero of Snezhnaya entered as a traitor.

Two rows of heavily armed Fatui soldiers stood at attention along the palace hall, but none made a move to stop him as he walked deeper into the palace.

At the center of the hall stood a large glass container filled with an unknown green liquid. Floating inside, unconscious, was Scaramouche.

The Tsaritsa stood before the glass, her back to Lucas, and spoke calmly, "So you've finally arrived. As expected, they couldn't delay you for long. It seems we'll need to recruit new Harbingers once this is over."

"You knew they weren't my match…" Lucas said, his face expressionless. "But you still sent them to stop me."

"You see, Pierro is the soul of the Fatui, Pulcinella is the body, and you… you are the brain. As long as the three of you remain, the Fatui will function. The others are merely replaceable parts," the Tsaritsa said without emotion. "I must admit, you've been a useful piece on my chessboard. But I don't need pieces that refuse to follow orders."

"I've been a piece my whole life, but from today onward, I'll be the one moving the pieces," Lucas said, stepping forward. "The Gnosis has fused with Scaramouche. You won't be able to extract it."

"The Gnosis cannot be destroyed. This acid will completely dissolve her body," the Tsaritsa said, placing her hand on the glass as if gently caressing Scaramouche's face. "You're all my beloved pieces, but in chess, victory requires sacrifices. Even I can be sacrificed."

"It seems negotiations won't work," Lucas muttered, trying to remain calm, but he couldn't help feeling anxious as he watched Scaramouche submerged in acid. "Let's make another deal."

Lucas knew Scaramouche's newly acquired body was resilient—she could last about three more minutes in the acid.

"A deal?" the Tsaritsa sneered. "What could you offer me? Don't tell me it's that undead army. Don't worry, I've already frozen them all. Mondstadt's tragedy won't repeat itself in Snezhnaya."

The Tsaritsa had always been wary of Lucas, and after the disaster in Mondstadt, she had ensured strict control over the undead army. There was no chance Lucas had prepared any hidden forces within the city.

"My bargaining chip…" Lucas said slowly, "is the lives of three-fifths of Snezhnaya's population."

"Are you joking?" The Tsaritsa narrowed her eyes. "Even if you had the power, do you think I'd let you slaughter my people?"

"I didn't want to resort to this," Lucas sighed, a hint of regret in his voice. He snapped his fingers.

With a crisp "snap," over half of the Fatui soldiers in the palace suddenly began convulsing in agony. Their bodies twisted in unnatural ways, and their left eyes filled with blood.

A moment later, with a sickening *pop*, their eyeballs burst in their sockets, and from the empty eye sockets, a grotesque red flower bloomed, its petals shimmering like blood.

Under some unknown command, the infected soldiers began attacking the others. The once silent palace was soon filled with the sounds of screaming and agony.

Even the usually composed Tsaritsa was taken aback. "What… what did you do?"

"All these years, I've been visiting the ruins of Khaenri'ah, not to find old machines but to search for the body of the previous Dendro Archon who died during the war," Lucas said coldly. "I found part of her—the tip of a finger. Of course, even I couldn't use that fragment to revive a god. But I could let her… be reborn inside me."

"You're mad!" the Tsaritsa whispered in shock. "You're desecrating the gods!"

"Does it matter?" Lucas's face twisted as vines began to grow from his skin, bursting out like veins. 

"I've already desecrated enough things."

500 years ago, during the Khaenri'ah War, all seven of the Archons participated, and both the Dendro Archon and Electro Archon perished.

The body of Raiden Baal was taken back by her sister, Raiden Ei (Beelzebul), while the body of the Dendro Archon was too damaged, and only a portion was recovered.

After a long and arduous search, Lucas finally obtained a part of the Dendro Archon's remains.

At first, Lucas's experiments showed no progress. His research focused on "death," while the power of the Dendro Archon symbolized "life." These two elements seemed entirely incompatible and could not be fused.

After many failures, Lucas decided to take a risky approach—he implanted the remaining Dendro Archon's genes into his own body.

This process was extremely dangerous. Such immense power was beyond human control and could cause severe damage to his body. However, Lucas had an exceptionally strong regenerative factor that could offset some of the damage. After much deliberation, he decided to embed the Dendro Archon's genes into his body.

As expected, this caused him excruciating pain, and parts of his body even turned into plants. However, his powerful regeneration allowed him to survive and gain partial control over the Dendro Archon's powers.

It was widely known that a Vision served as an external organ that allowed a person to manipulate elemental power. Only those with Visions could use elemental abilities. However, gods were not bound by these limitations. What Lucas obtained was the purest, most original Dendro power.

"I used the Dendro Archon's power, combined with my own techniques, to develop a type of 'spore,'" Lucas said as he opened his hand, revealing a few tiny green specks floating in his palm. "These spores can silently enter the human body and remain dormant. Once I give the command, they will immediately absorb the host's nutrients, bloom into corpse flowers, and parasitize the host… just like what's happening to those soldiers."

The parasitized soldiers were feasting on the corpses of their comrades, while the corpse flowers, nourished by the flesh and blood, glowed with an eerie crimson light.

The Tsaritsa frowned slightly. "How many people have you infected with these spores?"

"Everyone. All the citizens of Snezhnaya," Lucas replied calmly. "Though about 40% of people have a natural immunity to the spores, so unfortunately, only about 60% will be parasitized."

If anyone else had said this, the Tsaritsa might have dismissed it as the ravings of a madman. But coming from the Doctor, it was highly likely that all of it was true.

"Both Pulcinella and Pierro are currently not in Snezhnaya. If this 'plague' were to break out…" Lucas's expression remained cold. "Your Majesty, you should know what that would mean."

"You've gone this far already?" For the first time, a rare expression of surprise crossed the Tsaritsa's face. She murmured, "Still, my mind is made up. The Snezhnayans who must be sacrificed for this will surely understand—it is all for the sake of the final victory."

Without hesitation, the Tsaritsa pressed the button on the dissolving machine. The acidic liquid in the glass container began to bubble, and inside, Scaramouche's face twisted in pain.

Had he miscalculated?

Lucas hadn't expected the Tsaritsa to be so determined, willing to sacrifice more than half of her people just to obtain the Gnosis.

In fact, he had indeed scattered spores throughout Snezhnaya. However, there was a limitation—the farther the spores were from him, the slower they activated.

At this moment, he had already triggered the hidden spores, but it would take at least ten minutes for them to fully spread.

"Since negotiations have broken down…" Lucas sighed. "It seems I have no choice but to… challenge a god with a mortal body."

"Hmph, even the previous Dendro Archon at their peak wouldn't be my match," the Tsaritsa scoffed. "You, who have only stolen a fraction of their power, what can you do?"

The Tsaritsa understood that the Doctor possessed strength far beyond his appearance. But so what? Mortal power had limits, and between mortals and gods, there existed an insurmountable gulf.

Raising her hands, the Tsaritsa summoned a brilliant transparent ice bow. The arrow that had earlier frozen the Dragon Ursa had been shot from this very bow.

This time, however, the arrow was much smaller. Lucas suspected that this attack needed to be charged to reach its full power.

Naturally, he wouldn't give the Tsaritsa that chance. Even though he could easily defeat three or four Harbingers, he knew that fighting a god was not something to be taken lightly.

With the sword Oni-Cutter in hand, Lucas dashed toward the Tsaritsa, his movements so swift they were almost ghost-like.

The Tsaritsa sneered and instantly fired dozens of ice arrows. It seemed this technique could freely switch between power and speed.

Slice! Slash! Stab!

Lucas swung his blade, cutting down each arrow that came his way. However, every arrow he destroyed exploded into icy mist that clung to his body. By the time he reached the Tsaritsa, his entire body was coated in frost.

In the blink of an eye, Lucas was already right in front of the Tsaritsa. But just as he was about to strike, his blade froze in mid-air, as if suspended. His entire body had been encased in ice, transformed into a lifelike ice sculpture.

"Foolish," Tsaritsa declared, her expression stern as she gazed at the frozen figure before her. "Soft, fragile saplings cannot hope to overcome the eternal, unyielding ice."

As the Archon of Ice, Tsaritsa had mastered the power of the ice element to its absolute peak. She could freeze nearly anything—except time itself.

Crack!

But then, a crack appeared in the ice. From that crack emerged a deep green sprout.

More and more cracks spread across the ice, until it shattered and fell away in pieces. Watching this unfold, the Tsaritsa instinctively took a step back, her voice trembling with disbelief. "What… what are you?"

Half of Lucas's body had been completely overtaken by plants, and in some places, blood-red flowers—like the ones blooming from the parasitized soldiers—had sprouted.

His left arm had twisted into a grotesque mass, becoming a host for these blood flowers, both terrifying and strangely beautiful.

"'What' am I?" Lucas raised his monstrous arm and swung it toward the Tsaritsa's face. "I'm your father!"

Anyone who has played a game knows what happens when a mage is attacked at close range.

Though the Seven Archons represent the pinnacle of power in Teyvat, their strength and skills vary. For example, the Geo Archon, Morax, is a well-rounded fighter, capable of both devastating ranged and close combat.

The Tsaritsa, while unmatched in her mastery of the ice element, had little combat experience. Stunned by Lucas's transformation, she momentarily forgot to defend herself. Before she could react, she felt a sharp pain in her face as her body was sent flying.

This wasn't just a slap. The vines that had grown from Lucas's arm acted like a whip, leaving deep gashes across the Tsaritsa's flawless face.

Of course, it wasn't because the Tsaritsa lacked power—under the influence of Lucas's talent, [Old But Vigorous], he had nearly 500 years of accumulated strength. The physical force behind his blow was beyond comprehension.

Any lesser being would have had their skull shattered.

"You… you dare strike me!" Even the normally composed Tsaritsa lost her cool. "To commit such an act of defiance, I will never forgive you!"

"Blah, blah, blah! You always talk a lot of shit," Lucas shouted, his patience long gone. "I've tolerated you long enough!"

"You… you…" The Tsaritsa, unaccustomed to being insulted in such a way, found herself speechless. Her pale face flushed red with humiliation.

"'You' what? Shut up!" Without giving her a chance to recover, Lucas raised his twisted arm, now growing and swelling even larger. "Just shut up already!"

With that, the monstrous vines pinned the Tsaritsa against a stone pillar, quickly wrapping around and binding her body.

At this point, Lucas's arm was no longer recognizable as a limb. It resembled something out of Akira, a grotesque, swollen mass of plants and vines.

This was the power of the Dendro Archon's genes, manifesting through Lucas's immense physical strength, even overwhelming the Tsaritsa.

"Let… let me go…" The Tsaritsa struggled against the vines, but she couldn't break free. "Release me… mmmph!"

A vine, snake-like, slithered around her face and sealed her mouth, cutting off her protests mid-sentence.

"Mmmph… mmph…" The Tsaritsa's body writhed as drool escaped the corners of her mouth. Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes.

Despite this bizarre scene, Lucas couldn't help but feel something strange. After all, his monstrous arm was still a part of his body, and he could clearly feel everything it touched.

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