Chapter 263: Chapter 262: Extra Story—A Winter Nights Lazzo

Chapter 262: Extra Story—A Winter Nights Lazzo

Disclaimer: This Chapter was written after seeing the Teyvat Chapter Interlude Teaser: A Winter Night’s Lazzo PV. It doesn’t match the current novel’s timeline. Just take it as a fun little side story.

. . .

In a world of pure, unbroken frost, a girl parted her crimson lips and hummed a song—a requiem of death.

Her voice echoed through the vast palace halls. Even the banner of Snezhnaya, symbol of eternal winter, grew heavy beneath a new layer of ice.

The seats of the Twelve Fatui Harbingers—those who stood at the peak of the organization—were missing two figures. Only ten were present tonight.

And of those absent, one was the very reason for this gathering.

“We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade.”

“In honor of her sacrifice, all work should halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing.”

The Rooster, Pulcinella, spoke with a tone steeped in sorrow. His round glasses, perched on his nose, caught the cold gleam of moonlight—a reflection so sharp that it was impossible to tell whether his grief was real or just another mask.

“Funny, isn’t it? The fact that the man who killed Rosalyne himself, Anatoly, actually showed up.”

The Regrator, Pantalone, wore his usual smile. His gaze flicked toward the silent figure in the corner—Bai Luo.

His tone was playful, but his words cut sharp.

And he wasn’t wrong.

The Fatui’s coffers were always in chaos, though the source of their financial drain wasn’t everyone’s spending—it was mostly his.

On any other day, Bai Luo would’ve banter back without hesitation, turning the exchange into another verbal duel.

But this time, he said nothing.

He merely pulled a Sunsettia from his coat and tossed it lightly between his fingers, the soft orange glow catching the frostlight.

“Let’s not stir trouble at a time like this… And you, Anatoly—put the fruit away.”

The Knave, Arlecchino, stepped forward, her voice calm yet firm. Her strange X-shaped pupils glimmered as they swept across the two men.

“Come to think of it,” drawled the Childe, Tartaglia, lounging on the opposite side of the hall, “doesn’t Bai Luo seem… off? Usually, he’s the one causing the most trouble during these gatherings. Why’s he so quiet today?”

He sounded like he was joking, but anyone who knew him could tell he was genuinely curious.

After all, no one dealt with Bai Luo’s antics more than he did.

And the man being insulted without fighting back? That wasn’t the Bai Luo he knew.

“He’s been silenced by Her Majesty herself,” came the teasing voice of the Marionette, Sandrone, from atop her enormous mechanical puppet. “Too noisy, she said. So now his mouth’s sealed shut for three days. If anyone’s holding a grudge, now’s the time to said it.”

Bai Luo: “…”

Sandrone’s words made several pairs of eyes turn toward Bai Luo—some amused, others predatory. Even Columbina, the Damselette, stopped humming her mournful tune to glance over.

Bai Luo’s lips twitched. After a moment’s pause, he raised his right hand—a silent gesture that looked almost threatening—then, with a spring-like snap, flicked his middle finger toward the group.

“Her Majesty will judge Anatoly’s actions herself,” came the deep, calm voice of the Captain, Capitano. “What I wish to know… is where Scaramouche and Inazuma’s Gnosis have gone.”

Among them all, only Capitano and Bai Luo wore masks that fully hid their faces.

And he was right, if the Tsaritsa had allowed Anatoly to return despite killing a fellow Harbinger, then there had to be reasons beyond their understanding.

Moreover, if Anatoly truly harbored betrayal in his heart, the one who moves the chess pieces from the shadows would never have allowed him to stand here tonight.

At Capitano’s question, Bai Luo turned his gaze toward the Doctor, Dottore.

He pointed helplessly at his own sealed lips—and sighed.

It was then that the Doctor, who had been standing quietly by Bai Luo’s side, decided to step in and break the tension.

“Conventional wisdom,” he began in his smooth, clinical tone, “holds that Divine Knowledge cannot be rationally comprehended.”

“After conquering the Divine Gaze, he will make his next move.”

Compared to the last time Bai Luo had seen him, the Doctor’s appearance had changed once again.

Then again, this wasn’t the first time such a thing had happened.

As the discussion among the Harbingers grew increasingly heated and Columbina’s mourning song reached its peak, the Jester, Pierro, who had been quietly moving his chess pieces, finally rose from his seat.

But before he could speak, a faint scent of plum blossoms drifted across the hall.

Instinctively, everyone turned toward the source.

There—in Bai Luo’s hand—was a paper umbrella. No one had seen him take it out.

He listened to the girl’s song, eyes half-closed, the aurora refracted through the frost-glass bathing him in ghostly light.

The oil-paper umbrella began to twist and shimmer, its shape shifting into that of a strange, elegant instrument, aged yet timeless.

Unable to speak, Bai Luo decided to follow Columbina example—to express his defiance through music.

—Shua!

The moment that instrument took form, every Harbinger except Pierro, Dottore, and Sandrone instinctively stepped back.

Even Columbina, the Damselette, stopped singing mid-note.

Capitano managed to halt himself before retreating fully, but compared to the calm composure of the other three, his reaction still felt a touch too human.

—BOOM!

A massive ice coffin crashed down from above, sealing Bai Luo inside before he could even play a note.

Seated beside him all along, Childe reacted in an instant—his leg lashed out, kicking the coffin high into the air.

Sandrone, removing the specialized earplugs she’d been wearing, commanded her giant puppet to catch the coffin—and slam it down right beside the other ice coffin already enshrined in the center of the hall.

Capitano stepped forward, fist glowing with restrained power, and struck downward—embedding the new coffin firmly into the frozen floor, impossible to move or pry loose.

Only Pulcinella stood still, watching the scene unfold in silence, before letting out a long, weary sigh.

The world… fell quiet once more.

Then, the Damselette began to sing again.

. . . . .

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