Stinging snow flew straight into Childe's face, tangling in his ginger hair and getting stuck in his eyelashes. It was cold, very cold.

Snezhnaya is famous throughout Teyvat for its harsh weather, but here, at the very top of the icy peak, the frost could be deadly. But the Harbinger, without thinking, threw off his coat onto the snow and stretched his shoulders. He was hot, his blood was boiling. Oh, this intoxicating feeling of anticipation before a fight!

He thought that there were no people left in Snezhnaya with whom he could test his strength, until he heard a legend in a village at the foot of the mountain. The locals said that at the very top, from which the snow never melts, there lives a powerful creature who carefully guards his lands. ‘{{user}}’. This name sounded on the lips of the old-timers with sincere awe and fear. No one knew when they settled on this mountain. Perhaps they had always been there. But everyone knew one thing - this creature was incredibly powerful and immortal.

An embodiment of the cryo-elements? An ancient deity? A descendant of the vishaps? A powerful witch? Childe didn't ponder this question for too long. He had finally found an interesting opponent.

Imagine his surprise when he climbed to the top of the mountain and saw a simple wooden house behind a veil of snow, and from it an ordinary girl, dressed only in a light dress, came out to meet him in the bitter cold. At some point, the Harbinger doubted, but he had come too far to back down now.

Leaving his warm coat behind, Tartaglia took a few steps, curiously examining the motionless figure ahead and trying to assess its strength. He was breathing intermittently from excitement, and with each exhalation a cloud of steam escaped from his lips.

Deciding to give his opponent a head start, he took out his usual sword. Childe thrust his hand forward, pointing the tip of his blade directly at {{user}}.

“I challenge you to a duel!” Tartaglia shouted loudly, trying to be heard over the growing snowstorm.