Chapter Text
"You will... regret this..."
The lifeless body of a treasure hoarder falls on the ground.
The young man responsible for his death lets out a sigh, glancing at the group of bodies around him.
'Damn, I overdid it. I should've scared them a little, but they ended up dying from a few cuts.'
Deep inside he kows it's not entirely true. He did attack the group more brutally than necessary, mercilessly slicing up his opponents.
He dissipates his hydro blades then fixes his red mask on the side of his head, messing up the auburn locks even more.
Maybe he should continue work a bit later. After all, he needed to collect debts, not to get more customers for Wangsheng funeral parlour.
'At least Zhongli would have more work. He must be bored now that he's retired.' He grins then his expression gets distorted. 'Damn that old man...!' He punches a tree within an arm's reach, his knuckles leaving a bloody mark. 'Everytime we were dining together... I could've ripped that freaking Gnosis out of his chest...!' One more punch. 'If only I had known...' Another punch. 'Fuck, of course something is off with a simple consultant not looking more than thirty but speaking like a walking monument with the knowledge of thousands of books...!' His fist meets the tree trunk again.
He is sure he just fractured some phalangeal bones, but it's still not enough to calm him down. He wants to fight, wants to kill. As much as sparring with the source of his anger would probably help, simply recalling that familiar face makes his heart ache so much he wouldn't be able to stand it.
He has been avoiding Zhongli since the incident at Northland Bank, when he found out he had been used as a pawn in the Geo Archon's masterplan, and then almost drowned the god's beloved city out of rage.
How did he even think anyone would want to see him regularly without an ulterior motive?
He's a weapon, meant to be used. But this way... it's called betrayal. Betrayed by a fellow Harbinger and the person he once considered a good friend.
The eleventh Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia, codename Childe, is still frustrated, after more than a week. Or rather, being locked up by himself in his office until now, the anger has just built up.
Unable to think of any better, he starts hunting for monsters to take his rage out on.
First, a couple of slimes, hilichurls and whopperflowers get in his way, then he finds some ruin guards at the border of Lumberpick valley, and makes his way up North to take the Primo Geovishap down.
Starting to feel the exhaustion, he heads back towards Liyue Harbour, unable to resist the temptation of digging his blades into more random creatures.
When he sees the lights of the harbour, the pain kicks in. He has overexerted his body, freshly earned cuts and bruises just getting noticed. Surprised by his ability to walk, he unconsciously heads forward, but soon stops as he realises where his legs have taken him.
'What am I doing here...? He's the last person I want to see right now.'
He hisses in pain, barely registering that the owner of the house is already outside, and loses his balance along with his consciousness.
Childe lies on the bed, having his injuries treated by gloved hands radiating geo energy then the remaining wounds bandaged. His bloody shirt and jacket are soaking in water to be washed and sewn later.
The man responsible for all of this puts his palm on the young man's forehead, checking his temperature.
It's hot, almost burning even through the leather layer. He still decides to remove his gloves just this once, revealing a radiating golden colour.
He slides his hand down to the equally hot cheek, to which Childe lightly pushes his face to his palm, causing Zhongli a little surprise.
He knows Childe probably doesn't wish for his presence at all, but he doubts it's a coincidence that the young man walked here of all places in an injured state. Could it be unconscious trust?
He begins caressing the pale, slightly bruised face, each cool touch appreciated with a quiet whine.
It feels so strange to get into contact with another person's skin with his bare hands, but he finds it calming, especially when seeing the other's reaction, leaning into the touch.
'He's so young... but already has grey strands in his hair.' Zhongli gently brushes the younger man's hair from his eyes. 'I wish he didn't use that delusion...'
But he knows it's not possible. Childe, Tartaglia has pledged his loyalty to the Cryo Archon, and will do anything to prove he's worthy of his Harbinger title. Even if it costs his life.
Childe opens his eyes just to get blinded by the rays of the morning Sun.
Trying to recall the events from last night and looking around, he realises he is right at the place he doesn't wish to be at all.
He hears the familiar voice that used to brighten up his days, but now he only associates it with bitterness:
"Good morning, Lord Childe."
"Why am I here?" He sits up, but falls back straight away, groaning in pain.
"I assume no more explanation is needed," replies Zhongli, taking a few steps closer to the bed.
Hearing the calm words, Childe feels his blood boil.
"Why did you save me? I'm still mad at you...!" He clenches his fists, feeling the sharp pain as a reminder of his rage.
"Which does not mean I have to abandon you, especially in that critical state you were in," explains the man with an indifferent face. "Should I have left you in front of my house to die?"
"..."
Childe keeps quiet for a few seconds, then pushes himself up to sitting position and stands up, ignoring his body protesting against it. He gets hold of his neatly folded clothes on the nightstand next to the bed, and starts putting on his shirt.
"Please wait, I suggest you to rest for today. I was able to perform some minor healing to close your wounds, but if you-"
"Thanks for your concern." He interrupts the older man, and when he finally dresses up, he heads towards the door. "I'm leaving."
And he quickly does so, shutting the door behind himself.
Zhongli stands in the room, not moving. He could've kept Childe from going, but given the past events, he knows that would've had the opposite effect.
Sitting in his office at Northland Bank, looking at his cleaned and reparied uniform, Childe can't help but wonder.
He has played his role, the retired god has no use of him anymore. Then why is he still concerned about him? Maybe he feels guilty.
'Serves him right,' he thinks.
However, he feels much less frustrated about Zhongli now.
He suddenly hears a knock on the door. His loyal subordinate, Ekaterina comes in.
"Master Childe, a group of treasure hoarders at Lingju Pass demand your presence. They state some of their men were violently killed yesterday, and they refuse to pay back their debt unless you talk to them."
Childe has a feeling he does have something to do with the case but keeps quiet.
"I believe they're from the same group you left to settle just a day ago."
Oh. He got found out.
"Ah. They were..." He starts thinking about an excuse.
"Sir, if you kill all of them, who will pay us back?" A respectable but straightforward way to tell him he messed up.
"I'll get it all back today, not a single mora less."
He gets up from his chair, seemingly with some difficulty due to the pain and his strained muscles.
He feels the woman's look on him.
"Master Childe, are you injured?"
"Haha, just my back and legs got stiff from sitting here all day." He grins, hoping not to be interrogated any further. "So the same place at Lingju Pass, right?"
Ekaterina nods and watches her boss leave, an obviously worried look on her half-masked face.
It doesn't take him long to spot the suspicious people with their obvious outfits, just by their camp. There are only three of them, at least in sight.
"Is this some kind of joke?!" Shouts the oldest looking man among them. "The Fatui is mocking us for sending a brat here! We said we wanted the boss!"
Childe grins, slightly annoyed, but he's used to it.
"And you have him now so spit out what you want."
He finds the puzzled look on the men's faces amusing. They probably don't know whether to believe it or not.
"Whatever, let's kill him!" The man shouts and more people jump out of bush and from behind rocks. "Then they will finally take us seriously!"
As Childe expected this, he summons two hydro daggers without hesitation, in order to deal with the three men surrounding him. As the others arrive, he switches to a hydro polearm and takes a 180 degree shift to slice down the fastest ones. He then realises it was a bad move when he feels a wound on his side split open and his grip loosen because of his damaged knuckles.
A fractured rib pierces through his pleura, and he can only hope his lung won't collapse.
Despite all his efforts to hide it, his injured state doesn't get unnoticed. The increasing bloodstain on his side and the obvious difficulty to stand on both legs betray him.
"Look at what we're dealing with! Now you know where to aim!"
The remaining dozen men jump on Childe, a few others targeting him from afar.
He can still parry most of the attacks, cutting them down one by one.
Another swing of a blade which he plans to dodge, but his leg refuses to extend, resulting in a stabbed shoulder. The sharp blade cuts through his deltoid muscle, penetrating into his shoulder joint, leaving his right arm hanging by his side, almost half-detached.
He groans in pain as that arm gets completely immobilised.
"Go get him now!" Their leader orders, swinging his dagger.
Childe summons a polearm in his left, countering the attack. The others launch towards him as well, managing to land quite a few hits on him, however, he is still in control of his body, being able to move at least as much as to avoid fatal ones. As his right arm can't be helped, he utilises his knees and left elbow as well.
He starts feeling dizzy but sees another group dash towards him.
'Damn, I'm losing too much blood. Let's speed it up before I faint.'
He reaches for his red mask and puts it on. He unleashes his delusion, feeling Abyssal energy flowing in his body, his movements become faster and his hydro polearm gets infused with electro. Even though he doesn't go as far as transforming into his Foul Legacy form, he knows it's still making his condition worse - but he doesn't plan to wait for it to happen, intending to settle this fight in a minute or two.
Electro runs through his body, temporarily numbing his senses so that he is able to move more freely.
After a few strikes, all treasure hoarders end up on the ground.
"He's a monster..." whispers one of them looking at the young Harbinger whose body is covered with blood and cuts, one arm barely hanging by his side, but despite the fatal-looking state, still standing on his feet.
"Now, are you willing to pay what you owe to the Northland Bank?" He asks without the slightest tremble in his voice. "We'll find you wherever you may relocate your camp."
"Y-yes...! I'll go and tell the boss... you'll get all of the money...!" The man gets up as quickly as his beaten body allows it, trying to help his few still alive partners get up, and hurries away, supporting one of them.
"Good." He grins.
As the men disappear in the mountains, he can feel electro leaving his body while his mask falls off his face, his blade dissipates, and his vision goes dark.