Using the mist as cover, Anastasia's figure once again turned into an icy shadow, teleporting to Tartaglia's left side. An ice spike condensed at her fingertips, thrusting toward his wrist.
The target was precise, exactly where his blood flowed.
Tartaglia was already on guard. As he dodged to the side, his left hand condensed an Electro Blade, which he swung back toward the icy shadow.
The Electro Blade crackled with electricity, but it only struck a dissipating ice crystal.
He turned his head sharply to see Anastasia already standing on the wreckage of the office desk, her pale blue eyes full of amusement. "Finally taking this seriously? Too bad, it's too late."
Before her voice even faded, she raised her hand and waved it. Several icy chains erupted from the ground, coiling around Tartaglia's limbs like venomous snakes.
The icy chains glowed with a faint blue light, exerting a powerful suppression.
Tartaglia leaped into the air, flipping to evade them, while simultaneously swinging his hand to throw out several Hydro Blades, attempting to sever the chains.
But the moment the Hydro Blades touched the chains, they were instantly frozen and shattered into ice shards.
"Your attack patterns are too simplistic," Anastasia's voice came from above.
Tartaglia's heart skipped a beat as he looked up. He saw her hovering in mid-air, a massive ice spike condensing in her palm. Fine ice patterns coiled around the spike, radiating an aura of world-destroying power.
The ice spike plunged downward, bringing with it a bone-chilling wind.
Tartaglia's pupils constricted. He crossed his arms in front of him, Electro and Hydro elements condensing into a thick shield in his palms.
Boom! The ice spike slammed into the shield, the massive impact driving Tartaglia's feet into the ground, his knees bending slightly, and a numbing pain shooting through his arms.
Just as he was fighting to hold back the ice spike, Anastasia's figure suddenly appeared behind him, her right hand lightly pressing against his upper back.
An extreme cold surged into his body, piercing him like ice needles.
Tartaglia stiffened all over, the Electro and Hydro elements instantly halting, and the shield shattered with a crash.
"Pff!" He suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.
His body stumbled forward two steps uncontrollably, dropping to one knee. He pressed his palm against the ground, his knuckles turning white from the force.
Before he could stand, Anastasia had already moved in front of him. The tip of her foot pressed lightly onto his wrist, the force slight yet carrying an irresistible pressure.
"Still want to fight?" She looked down at him, her pale blue eyes showing not a ripple of emotion, as if the battle just now had been nothing more than a game to her. "So weak. How can you protect the ones you want to protect?"
Tartaglia lifted his head, his eyes filled with resentment and rage, yet also a trace of helplessness.
His wrist was pinned under her foot, and the Elemental Power within his body was suppressed, making even the slightest movement exceptionally difficult.
"What exactly are you trying to do?" He gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse. "Is this all just to toy with me?"
Anastasia let out a contemptuous laugh, her lips curling into a mocking arc, her silvery-white hair shimmering with a cold light in the dim illumination. "Although I am Dottore's 'daughter,' I do not belong to the Fatui."
She leaned forward, her icy aura almost brushing against Tartaglia's cheek.
"Where I go, it seems I don't need permission from you Harbingers, let alone report it to you, right?"
Before her words had even faded, her figure flashed again.
Tartaglia couldn't even see her movement before he felt a cool sensation slowly sliding down his spine.
Anastasia sat on top of him, her legs crossed, her fingers gently tracing his spine through his uniform.
The chill seeped through the fabric, making the hair on his body stand on end.
"You possess the power of a Delusion, yet you can't even defeat a single 'god'." Her voice carried a hint of regret, but her eyes were filled with mockery. "You've truly disappointed 'us'."
Anastasia's other hand suddenly rose, her palm holding a Delusion.
It was the very one Tartaglia had always carried!
Tartaglia's face paled in shock, and he instinctively reached for himself.
This Delusion was the key to his Foul Legacy, yet she had stolen it without him ever noticing!
He snapped his head up, his gaze on Anastasia now much more serious. Her strength had improved by more than a level since their last spar at the Snezhnaya training grounds.
"So what exactly are you trying to do?" Tartaglia asked coldly.
"What am I trying to do? Deliver a notice!" Anastasia's expression suddenly darkened, her voice as cold as a frozen lake. "The Tsaritsa has issued an order. The Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, the last seat, 'Childe', go find the meaning of life."
Tartaglia froze, his brow furrowed, unable to grasp the deeper meaning of her words.
Anastasia rolled her eyes, her tone turning impatient. "What are you staring at? It means you're fired! You're out of a job!"
She stood up, her slender, delicate fingers curling slightly.
Tartaglia's body seemed to receive a signal, snapping straight as if he were a puppet controlled by strings.
"What?" Tartaglia was completely bewildered, his pupils constricting slightly.
For a moment, anger, confusion, and resentment surged through him, leaving him not knowing how to react.
Anastasia sighed helplessly, as if looking at a hopeless fool. "So stupid, letting a woman mess with your head until it's completely fried."
"Alright, I'm leaving now." She reached out, gently patting Tartaglia's shoulder, the chill of her fingertips making him shiver.
"Oh, right!" After taking half a step, she stopped and turned back as if suddenly remembering something. "If you still want her to 'live', then go to Inazuma."
"They say the Abyss's next target is there."
"What did you say?" Tartaglia snapped his head up, a flash of disbelief crossing his eyes as his breath caught for a moment.
He stared intently at Anastasia, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "She still has a chance to live?"
Anastasia shrugged helplessly, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes, yet she didn't answer directly. "Don't look at me. Dottore told me this; I don't know if it's true either."
With that, she turned to leave.
But as she reached the window, she paused again and added, "I'm off. Good luck, Former Harbinger."
As her voice faded, her figure suddenly transformed into an ice sculpture.
Tiny snowflakes still clung to the surface of the ice sculpture before it shattered with a loud crash.
Ice crystals scattered across the floor, quickly melting into the air, leaving only a room full of cold air.
Tartaglia stood frozen in place, his grip tightening on the whale stone carving and the Gnosis, his fingertips turning white from the force.
Complex emotions surged in his eyes: shock, doubt, and a sliver of hope that had been forcibly suppressed yet couldn't help but resurface.
Inazuma...
He repeated the name under his breath, his fingertips trembling slightly.
Whether this news was one of Dottore's schemes or just something Anastasia had said in passing, he had to go.
For Yunqin, even if there was only a one in ten thousand chance, he would not give up.
Outside the window, the first rays of sunlight in Liyue Harbor finally filtered through the gaps in the curtains, falling on the back of his hand with a faint warmth.
Tartaglia tightened his grip on the stone carving and turned to walk toward the office door.
He would go to Inazuma, find traces of the Abyss, and more importantly, find the possibility of Yunqin being "alive."