“This place f#@king sucks.” a merchant groans. “Ya can't do anything without breaking those dumb rules. Oh~ Lord Night Cry will deliver his punishment neh neh neh. F#$king bullsh*t!”

 

The group of merchants are led to a cluster of little houses. According to their owners, those houses are Deadwater's inn. A hefty sum was paid by the merchants because they have a large group, but it's nothing compared to the profits they made today. 

 

“Especially that woman, whining to her husband about his purchases and sh#t. I wanna smash her!” 

 

“Oh yeah, I know that one. I too, wanna smash~ her~.” another merchant replies.

 

“Keep it to yourself you freak.”

 

The door to their room opens, and the merchants see their leaders return empty handed. 

 

“The little monster is out?” the first merchant asks. 

 

“So when will we have this town?” the freaky one adds. 

 

“Hmm hmm, soon.” the leader smirks. 

 

He takes off his boots and enters the room, sitting alongside his fellow merchants. 

 

“What's our inventory?” the leader asks. 

 

“24 left. We sold like 12 today.” another merchant answers. 

 

“Any idea on who that Crow is?” 

 

Many merchants shake their heads. 

 

“It sounds like a bluff.”

 

“For real. I mean, it makes no sense. For there to be one who's this highly praised, why hide himself? Just come out, control the village, and enjoy the riches.”

 

“What are the chances he's made up?”

 

“I'd say yes. Everyone says that he isn't an Archon. What else can a non-deity be?”

 

“He could also be a Genshin.” the leader suddenly speaks, cutting off the heated discussion amongst the other merchants. 

 

A moment of silence befalls the room, before it once again erupts into cheerful talks. 

 

“Brilliant boss!” a merchant praises. 

 

“It's so obvious now! An allogene who brainwashed a town with his demigod-like elemental power, establishing himself as the Lord of this ground.” 

 

A series of cheers is heard from the inn. 

 

“What a silly bastard.” 

 

“Yeah, I bet the reason why he hides himself is because he only managed to fool those non-genshins. That Night Crow is hiding from competition. He is trying to avoid other people with Visions, like our boss here.” 

 

The leading merchant takes a sip of water and questions: “How many villagers here have Vision?” 

 

In the world of Teyvat, there exist gods. Sometimes, certain gods would gaze upon mortals and grant them an item called the Vision. People with vision can control elemental power. They are also potential candidates who may ascend to Celestia, the realm of gods on Teyvat, and assume godhood. Therefore, people with Vision are also called “Allogene” or “Genshin”, meaning “Candidate God”

 

The merchants look right and left at each other, but it's obvious that no one has seen another Genshin besides their leader in Deadwater. 

 

“It'd only make sense that this Night Crow bears a Vision. However, despite our journey through this village today, no one seems to have one. We do know that there are people who understand what a Vision is; that's why those guards at the front gate were so intimidated by my Pyro Vision.” The leader explains.

 

He blows a puff of flame, drying his mustache off of any water left from his sip. 

 

“Sounds like you have a suspect?” a merchant asks the mustached guy. 

 

“I do, but I can't be too sure yet. Know that doctor? I left the little one with him.” the leader explains. 

 

“Albright?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You think he is the Night Crow?”

 

“I'm not sure. I checked him out head to toe today. He does not have a Vision. But there's something odd about him.”

 

“Odd?”

 

“Yes. He didn't even flinch a bit when I used my fire power in front of him, quite atypical. And what's more, check this out.”

 

The merchant takes from his purse, a couple of shining white Mora coins. At first, the other merchants thought that they were silver, until a surprised one quietly whispers to those around him: “Those are platinum!”

 

“That's correct. I “sold” our little monster to that doctor. He offered quite a substantial price.”

 

The inn now steams with conversation, everyone wondering just who this Dr is. After all, he single handedly doubled the entire group's net worth. 

 

“Is he that young man with short hair and dark eyes? The one who looks like he's still but a lad? I think I saw him near a field of grass today.” One merchant remembers. 

 

“Was our little girl with him?” the leader asks. 

 

“Yeah, and she was sleeping. I nearly thought she was dead, had it not been the pulsing veins and rotating eyeballs on her skin.”

 

“Sleeping?” The leader frowns. He has never seen the little girl sleep. 

 

Once, a merchant was waiting for the little one to fall asleep, yet that merchant came to find that throughout the night, the only shuteye she got were from blinking. The girl literally never fell asleep, yet she somehow never appears dozy. 

 

During their travels, the merchandise may fall to exhaustion to the point that whips could no longer force them to move. That's usually when the merchants would stop their travels momentarily, until the minimal amount of rest is granted to the poor girls. But Cynthia? That little monster? Her stamina seems infinite. 

 

“How could that thing fall asleep?”

 

“That Dr. Must have drugged her somehow.”

 

“But why? Why would he do that?”

 

“What were they doing on that grass field?” the leader asks. 

 

“Nothing.” the merchant replies. “I saw the little one sleeping on the grass, and that doctor just stood there, watching her.”

 

“How long were they doing that?”

 

“Not sure, but probably quite a long time. I keep hearing the villagers saying how the clinic is closed today.”

 

The leader twists the tip of his mustache and frowns a bit. Suddenly, he stands up. His gargantuan stature puts his head nearly to the roof of the building. 

 

“I’m gonna check on that little one.” he says, boots back on, and signals his fellow merchants to wait. “Tomorrow, proceed as usual, but stir up some troubles. I want to see just who that Night Crow is.”

 

“Sure thing boss! I'll go and store away our profits back at our previous base.” one merchant offers. “I’ll head out tonight.”

 

The leader approves, then lowers his head to exit the door.

 

-------

 

*Back to the time of transaction:

 

The moment that merchant leaves the clinic, Cynthia does what she’s been trained to do since the day those merchants found her: despite the immense pain from the fire mere moments ago, she forces herself to stare directly into the Dr.’s eyes. 

 

No one seems to understand what has happened for her to become the being that she is today; not even those cultists who had forced her into those grotesque altars. The confined space inside the crimson and demon altars, the rotten teeth and slimy tissue structures, the eyeballs leaking viscous mucus upon touch, each were tearing Cynthia’s flesh apart after she was stuffed into them by the robed figures. When she emerged with those teeth and eyes and tissue firmly rooted in her own body; the cultists then locked her away in disapproval. 

 

Since her adoption by the merchants, Cynthia has discovered that people who looked into her eyes would act differently; they'd seem half asleep, more complacent, even obedient. The merchants had found use for that. 

 

None of that mattered to her though. All Cynthia knew was that her little eye trick doesn’t work on the merchants’ leader, and that if she does what the merchants told her to do, then those cuffs and chains won’t erupt in flames, probably.

 

Therefore, as soon as the merchant left, she looked at the Dr. right into his eyes. However, seeing the Dr. approaching with that needle full of glowing green liquid struck a different kind of fear in her, one that froze her up more than even the burning cuffs. 

 

The moment before she lost consciousness, she saw within the Dr.’s eyes: her own demise. It was not the look of disgust by so many of her previous witnesses who recoiled from her monstrous appearance. It was not the look of fear from the peasants who were frightened by her appearance or by the unknown danger she may bring. It was not the uncaring greed that seeped out of the eyes of those cultists who had captured her for their rituals. It was not even the creepiness that those demon and crimson altars automatically implant into those who lay eyes on them. 

 

No, what Cynthia saw within the Dr.’s eyes was duty: the mission to eliminate her. 

 

Albright looked, to Cynthia, as if he was born to eradicate her; as if her destruction was the very purpose of his existence. 

 

And that frightens her in a completely different way, enough for her to be frozen until the syringe is emptied. 

 

When Cynthia wakes up, she finds herself laying on a patch of grass, not too far from the clinic. 

 

Albright Corvus is standing a few meters away from her; his arms are crossed, and his eyes firmly locked on her.

 

She flinches upon seeing the Dr. But ends up discovering two things: one, that look from Corvus’ eyes, the one of her own demise, is no longer present; two, she appears untouched, except that she is currently holding something heavy.

 

Cynthia looks down to see that her arms are placed on a block of stone, just light enough that it'd not harm her when placed over her torso. The stone is clean and looks well-preserved. 

 

She has not the time to understand everything before Corvus calls her to follow him back to the clinic. 

 

At first, Cynthia is hesitant, but after seeing that those cuffs are still firmly locked over her wrists, she lifts herself up like an anchor and follows the doctor.

 

Corvus slowly approaches her and takes back that little block of stone. He carefully inspects each of its six sides and all of its 12 edges. Cynthia can see in real time that the more this Dr. inspected that stone, the kinder his gaze became.

 

She continues to attempt looking into the Dr.’s eyes, but the Dr. is unaffected. The girl is on the verge of biting her fang-like nails. 

 

“Cynthia, was it?” Corvus suddenly says. 

 

She flinches again, and momentarily becomes tongue tight. Eventually, she nods. 

 

“Hmm, so you can understand me it seems. My name is Corvus Albright.” he says, pocketing the stone block. “I…want to apologize for what I've done.”

 

Cynthia is confused. 

 

“That needle, I meant.” Corvus continues to explain. “I am sorry that I had to knock you out like that. I don't expect you to forgive me, but in case you are wondering why I did that, please just know that it was a test. A necessary one, in fact.”

 

The little girl remains silent. She takes her eyes off the Dr.’s.

 

“Let’s go home.” Corvus says, turning towards his clinic. 

 

Cynthia quickly follows. Once they're back, Corvus sat the girl down and asks: “Cynthia, where did you come from?”

 

She tilts her head to one side. 

 

“I mean your original home. Where are you from? I doubt those merchants were your actual family members.”

 

Cynthia looks down, and moments later her lips begin to quiver. 

 

“Alright then, do you want to stay here? I can provide food and shelter, a place for you to rest.” Corvus asks, changing the subject. 

 

Comes to think of it, it has been quite a long time since Corvus last saw a patient this young, even though he sees patients almost daily. Deadwater isn't a particularly fertile village. 

 

“I won't force you to do anything, certainly no more syringes. If you wish to live alone, or even return to those merchants, you may. And if you want to stay here, it's also fine. The choice is yours.” Corvus isn't familiar with talking to little children. All he can do is what he does with every other patient of his: to respect their autonomy.

 

Where he grew up, talking was practically forbidden for the younglings. He was not permitted to talk, outside of chanting.

 

Cynthia's eyes widened. What? Is the Dr. Asking her to leave?

 

She frantically shakes her head. The eyeballs under her robe wiggle with the movement. 

 

“That's a no? But to what exactly?” Corvus asks. 

 

“Um…” she finally speaks. Cynthia opens her little mouth, but lets out a ghoul-like growl instead of the voice of a child. 

 

She quickly shuts her lips, but a moment of reluctance later, she speaks again. 

 

“He…re…”

 

“You wish to stay here?” Corvus confirms, changing his question to yes or no format. 

 

Cynthia quickly nods. 

 

“I see. Very well then. Cynthia, you may, from now on, call this clinic your home. Stay indoors for the remainder of today. We need to make sure that you know the rules of Deadwater before we let you roam around.” Corvus says, standing up to leave once again. 

 

Cynthia tries to retain the Dr. The merchant would for sure arrive by tonight to inspect her work. She can't have the Dr. leave.

 

Why? Why has her state suddenly lost its effect? The Dr. Doesn't have one of those shining pendants like the leader of those merchants. So far, the only people who appear to be able to resist her gaze are that single merchant, this Dr., and…

 

A single moment of unpleasant memory shocks the little girl. She stands in the middle of the clinic, stiff like a frightened little lamb. 

 

Corvus observes everything. Right before he takes his leave, he says to Cynthia: “I can't yet tell you for sure, but I promise to do everything I can to find the cure to your condition. I…have a rough idea what might have happened to you, but I'll wait for you to tell me when I want to. For now, please just stay inside. I hate to scare you, but it isn't safe outside for you. Not yet. I'll be away the entire night, but I'll be back for lunch tomorrow.”

 

And with that, Corvus shuts the door of his clinic. 

 

He later returned with some food for Cynthia, but left shortly after. 

 

“Just rest on any one of those beds in the clinic. They're for patients, but there won't be any until I return.”

 

-------

 

Dirtwater’s nights are more peaceful than elsewhere, which means usually not many guards are needed at night. But tonight is different. 

 

The merchant leader scans around and sees soldiers patrolling the village. A sudden shout occurs, and a group of soldiers rushes to the site. The merchant strokes his mustache, thinking that it must be a wandering demon eye who has flown over the village’s walls.

 

He takes in the sight of the soldiers’ armaments. Sharp flint strapped onto the end of long poles. Those are primitive, he thinks, but effective for what they got. 

 

His fingers gently stroke over his pyro vision. 

 

“Hmph, peasants.”

 

He walks near the clinic that he visited and takes out a piece of blue magnet. The merchant hides around the clinic and waves the magnet. Soon after, a little figure wanders close to him. 

 

The merchant is satisfied. Their little monster is still around, and still inbound. 

 

“Is it done?” The merchant demands. 

 

“...”

 

She doesn’t speak. Cynthia keeps her head low, but her gaze never wanders off from that shining fiery Vision by the Merchant’s belt. The merchant shakes his head a bit, but doesn’t do much after that. 

 

Cynthia isn’t surprised. Usually after she is “sold”, this big mustache man would be less violent towards her for a pittance of time. It’s almost as if she was delicate for only that one short moment as a product freshly sold. Of course, when she was handed over, the merchants always expected and obtained enormous rewards in the form of territory conquered. 

 

“Hmm, looks like that Dr. gave you quite a good nap. Worry not. We have all the time in the world.” The merchant says. 

 

He glances over into the clinic and sees the flickering candle light in a single room on the side. Judging by the shadows casted on it moments ago, that room belongs to Cynthia. 

 

“Is he asleep?” The leader asks.

 

Cynthia shakes her head. 

 

“No? Then he’s outside?” 

 

This time, it’s a nod. 

 

“Where is he?” The merchant demands.

 

She shakes her head again. 

 

The merchant sends her back in, instructing beforehand: “tomorrow there’ll be a certain individual that we’d need to observe. Remember that person by heart and shatter their mind.” 

 

Cynthia, for the first time in her life, did not immediately head back into the house as the merchant had expected from all the previous times he had commanded her. She stands there in the dark, alone, motionless.

 

The merchant raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t dwell much on this occurrence. His eyes glow a faint fiery-red as he warns the little girl: “Just remember who you belong to.” 

 

Cynthia recoils a bit. Her hand habitually falls on the wrist of her other arm. Clanking of chains rings, cutting into the dark night, momentarily shadowing over the shouts of soldiers in the distance. 

 

“Why are there so many of them tonight!?” a soldier asks. They swing and strike with their spears against the swarm of wandering eyeballs. 

 

Their tendrils swirl as they fly. Occasionally they'd strike at the soldiers, shattering the wooden plates before their chests. 

 

“What if, what if Lord Night Crow won't appear tonight?” one soldier worryingly questions as he abandons his broken spear and takes out his dagger. 

 

Despite the battle cries around the village walls, a moment of silence seems to befall amongst the fighting men. 

 

“Even so, we are tasked with protecting our village! Soldiers! Stab those bastards! We can't let them get through us!”

 

In the distant shadows, the merchant ponders. He knows for certain the reason for the sudden rise in the number of the monster. He was the one who brought her to Deadwater after all. 

 

At first, the merchant was eagerly awaiting to witness the so-called “Crow” in action. However, as the soldiers fiercely defend the village, nothing else out of the ordinary occured. 

 

“What a led down.” he exclaims, running his hand through his mustache. “Had that Crow been baited out by this, a whole lot of trouble could be averted. Looks like the trouble we make after sunrise must be bigger than even this.”

 

He leaves, slightly disappointed, but not empty-minded. Though he hasn't obtained all the information he had wanted, it's sufficient for now. 

 

The merchant quickly plans as he makes his way back to the inns; even Genshin needs sleep. 

 

First, Deadwater is a small, god-less village, unlike most other human gatherings the group has encountered. The vast number of farmers here indicates that the village is still in its very early stages of development. 

 

There's also a shortage of people in general here, so much so it created a market for their “merchandise”. 

 

Most of the god-less villages like this will die out within just a few years. Their downfall can have many reasons: from the monster, the disasters, running out of new blood to work, droughts, floods, or in the very unlucky cases: a couple Archons take their fight near the vicinity of the village, and the whole area is wiped. 

 

However, it appears that this Deadwater is different from those mentioned above, because:

 

Second, Deadwater has a guardian. A “Lord Night Crow” is supposedly the protector of this village. His existence seems to be the pillar which supports this entire village. With him, people feel safe, can focus on work, and even establish some kind of civil rules to obey to maintain order. 

 

Third, this Night Crow is most likely Dr. Corvus, and the Dr. is mostly an allogene in disguise; a Genshin who's hiding his vision. The reason is simple: if that little monster has failed to alter the Dr.’s mind, that means the Dr. has some kind of means to resist the effect. So far, a Vision is the  only means of protection from Cynthia that the merchant knows of. 

 

Another indication is that the Dr. is apparently away from the village tonight, and the Night Crow is similarly absent, despite Cynthia attracting more monsters than usual to the village that he is supposed to protect. 

 

The merchant enters the inn, not intending to help the village fight unless the monsters reach their resting place. 

 

Last thoughts before the merchant shuts his eyes: considering that the Dr. is a healer, his vision is likely either dendro or hydro. To be honest better former than the latter; his own pyro vision will be better able to counter grass than water. Dr.’s vision is also probably how he managed to put the little monster to sleep. 

 

To take over this village would mean increased resources for the group to fall back upon, lest their travels encounter obstacles. With how established Deadwater is, they can even let go of their previous village entirely. 

 

Speaking of which, the Dr. Asked for the location where we first found Cynthia. Perhaps he… no, he can't. That place is days away from Deadwater. But knowing that, where could that doctor have gone in the middle of the night? 

 

-------

 

A figure darts across the dark night sky, tearing open a sharp wound among the gloomy clouds to reveal a crevasse where the moonlight can seep through. The wings of the figure swirl strongly. Paired with his beak mask, one can easily mistake him for a crow, except this bird is as big as a man. 

 

Corvus isn't certain if the village can handle his absence at night, especially with those merchants resting there. However, there's a more pressing matter for him to attend to. 

 

After memorizing the mark on the map left by the merchant with a single gaze, Corvus arrives at a village. Traveling there by foot from Deadwater would no doubt take days, assuming no monsters or Archon delay the trip. Corvus flew there in less than a meal time. 

 

Instead of explaining his purpose of visage to the town, Corvus instead stealthily navigates through the buildings. He can now sense it: the eerie aura emitted by the pestilence. 

 

He can see them in the air, hear their agonizing echoes, even taste their foulness. 

 

The villagers here aren't in the best shape, appearing malnurtured and exhausted. Just as he approaches a building where underneath its base seems to be the source of the pestilence, Corvus suddenly notices the presence of two others of his kind: more precisely, two other lunatic cultists. 

 

If he can sense them, then they have definitely sensed him. For now, Corvus isn't too worried about the other cultists; they have no idea that it is him who is at this location. Until his work is completed, Corvus only needs to avoid their direct eye sight. 

 

Entering the basement of the building, Corvus discovers a dungeon. A single cell is present, blocked by a rusty cage. Inside, cuffs, dried blood, and familiar demonic sigils are seen on the walls and floor of the cell. 

 

Based on the size of the cuffs, the prisoner is small, child sized, in fact. 

 

“This must be where the cult kept her.” Corvus thinks to himself. 

 

He inspects around, sensing the undeniable presence of the pestilence: both the crimson and corruption have rooted in the cell. 

 

“This makes no sense.” the Dr. thinks to himself, remembering how he spent this whole day observing Cynthia. “The experiment today showed that she does not transmit the pestilence; neither the grass nor the stone were contaminated, despite hours of exposure. But if she isn't the source of the spread, then, what is? Perhaps it's only a coincidence that this cell has been infected?”

 

It was certainly a surprising result for Corvus, to find that someone who has both evils embedded within her that deeply does not actually spread any. 

 

Which was fortunate for Corvus, for had the opposite been true, Corvus honestly wouldn’t have any idea what he could do at that point.

 

Various hypotheses manifest in Corvus' head, but he doesn't have the time to explore any. Right now, only one objective occupies him. He carefully senses how far has the crimson and corruption spread within this vicinity, holds his amulet in his hand wrapped to his wrist by the chain, and fires the ancient lights. 

 

Corvus doesn't chant. 

 

Ever since his childhood when the cult began educating him on the art of lunatic powers, he and all the other children were strictly taught to always chant. 

 

At first, they said that it's the chant that grants the users their lunatic power. Then, the cult stated that it was disrespectful to the moon god if one were to borrow their power without properly reciting the chant. 

 

Corvus had always been curious about the chants as a kid, for every cultist would chant, but their chants weren't all identical. Despite that, their attacks did not seem to differ. 

 

One day, he took liberty to practice his power without saying a word when he was alone, and managed to summon lunatic powers regardless. 

 

That marked the beginning point of him questioning the teachings of his cult. 

 

Many years later, here he is, aiming his ancient light attack to destroy crimson and corruption that his cult deems sacred for being the work of their god. 

 

Corvus stares into the molten rock and nearly sees agonizing pain from the crimson-infested land that melts into molten hot rock. 

 

Even though Corvus can sense how much crimson there is, he incinerates more lands into lava than what he senses, just to be safe that not a single grain of crimson remains. 

 

The lights and heats, as well as the collapsed cell and building on top attracted just about every single pair of eyes on the town. 

 

Corvus quickly takes his leave, sensing that the other two cultists are rapidly approaching. This was not the first time he eliminated crimson or corruption, and the cult knows it. 

 

“Oh the great Lord of the Moon, Grant me sight beyond vision!” a couple of voices pierce the sizzling of the fire and the flows of molten lava.

 

“And there's the infamous traitor of our cult.” directed right at the nightly figure that is the doctor of Deadwater. “Such betraial is punishable by DEATH!”