Honkai Star Rail: I Played the Villain, Now the Heroines Want Revenge — Chapter 173

Chapter 173: The Eclipse Moon Pack

The journey through the void had been a blur of terror and cramped darkness. Orion held Jiang Li’s hand in the stinking, overcrowded cargo bay of the Borisin beast-ship, a place that reeked of unwashed fur, stale blood, and the lingering, sanity-eroding scent of Wolfbane.

Jiang Li hadn’t spoken a word since they were captured. She just trembled, her small, cold hand gripping his as if it were her only anchor in the universe.

A violent lurch and the grinding of metal on stone signaled their arrival. The ship’s massive bay doors groaned open, flooding the oppressive darkness with a sickly, dark red light.

This was their new home. A fallen world, a conquered territory. This was the den of the Eclipse Moon Hunter Pack.

“Move, filth!” A Borisin guard shoved Orion from behind, sending him stumbling down the rough-hewn gangplank.

He immediately pulled Jiang Li up with him, instinctively placing his small, 8-year-old body between her and the guards.

The air was a physical assault. It was thin, hot, and stank of a slaughterhouse—a nauseating mix of decay, rust, and old blood. The very ground, a crimson iron-rich dust, seemed permanently stained.

The sky was a bruised, dark red, choked with black-brown clouds. There was no sun, only this oppressive, hellish glow.

But it was the structures on the horizon that dominated the view. Massive, jagged towers pierced the sky. They were made of… bones. The skeletons of colossal, unknown beasts had been stacked and bound together. Skulls the size of star-skiffs formed the gates.

[Inorin’s Note: The ‘Towers of Glory’ are Borisin structures, built from the bones of conquered species as a brutalist monument to their victories on the Path of The Hunt.]

Orion’s Efficient Learning talent processed the scene, connecting it to the hushed, terrified whispers he’d overheard on his parents’ skiff. This was a trophy world. A war slave processing camp.

Crack!

A neuro-whip lashed out, striking a Foxian man near them. He screamed and collapsed, his body convulsing. The whip wasn’t designed to just inflict pain; it attacked the nervous system.

“Hurry up! What are you dawdling for!” the guard roared.

Jiang Li let out a small, choked whimper and buried her face in Orion’s arm, her whole body shaking violently. “Brother… it’s so scary… I want Mom… I want Dad…” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Orion’s heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. He held her hand tighter. “Don’t be afraid. Your brother is here,” he whispered back, his own voice steady, but his golden eyes were cold and hard as steel. He shielded her with his body as they were herded forward.

Along the way, you saw the “residents”—a large number of Foxian slaves. Their vibrant fur was matted with filth, their ears torn or drooping. Their eyes were vacant, hollowed out by despair as they performed back-breaking labor under the red sky.

Some had crude iron chains around their necks, led by Borisin children like prized pets.

Even more chilling were the Foxian overseers. They weren’t Borisin. They were Foxians, wearing scraps of Borisin-style armor and carrying the same neuro-whips. They struck their own kind with a ferocity that seemed even greater than their masters’.

They were the “good dogs” who had survived. The collaborators. Orion watched one Foxian overseer viciously beat an elder who had collapsed. He felt no anger, only a cold, terrifying understanding. This is what survival costs here.

Soon, you were herded into a large, open-air slave market, a square paved with bones. Many Borisin gathered, laughing and trading, scrutinizing the new “stock” of captives like livestock.

A burly Borisin leader, his gray fur adorned with grim trophies—skulls, braided tails of other species—walked over. He radiated an aura of power and casual cruelty. “This is all? A pitiful haul.”

He said gruffly, “I need a new battle slave. The last one was torn to shreds by a Thryll gladiator. It was… disappointing.”

His gaze swept over the adult captives, dismissing them. “Too old. Too broken.” His eyes, cold and yellow, quickly landed on the group of captured children.

His gaze passed over Orion, then stopped, locking onto Jiang Li, who was trembling and hiding behind him. She was small, pure-white, and fragile. A perfect “pet.”

“This little fox-cub… she looks quite clever. Unbroken. She’ll do.” The Borisin leader stretched out his massive, scarred claw to grab her.

Jiang Li whimpered, pressing herself so hard against Orion’s back she was practically trying to merge with him.

At that very instant—Orion moved. He didn’t attack. He stepped directly in front of his sister, shielding her completely.

He lifted his head, staring intently at the Borisin leader.

In Orion’s vision, the black ‘death lines’ from his Mystic Eyes of Death Perception reappeared, crawling over the leader’s body like a spider’s web. He saw a clear, thick line running straight up the Borisin’s arm, across his chest, and to his neck.

He knew he could kill him. He had his mother’s dagger hidden in his rags. He could do it.

But he also knew this was their stronghold. Killing the leader here meant he and Jiang Li would be torn to shreds in the next second. It was a failed move.

So, he did the only other thing he could. He stared. He showed no fear, no submission. Only an 8-year-old’s suicidal defiance, telling the leader with his cold, golden eyes—if you want to touch my sister, you will have to kill me first.

“Oh?” The leader was stunned. He’d seen fear, terror, and broken submission. He’d never seen this. An 8-year-old, looking at him like he was the one who should be afraid.

A surprised, then amused, expression appeared on the Borisin’s face. “Interesting… a little fox-cub who dares to glare at me. Quite bold, little brat.”

He revealed a fierce, cruel smile. “I’ve changed my mind. I like spirit. Broken toys are no fun. I’ll take you.”

“No!” Jiang Li, hearing this, forgot her fear and tried to rush out from behind him. “Don’t take my brother away! Please! Take me!”

Orion was faster. He grabbed her, his hand covering her mouth again, pulling her back into a tight, desperate hug. “Shh…” he whispered, his voice shaking for the first time. “Be good. Be quiet.”

Jiang Li shook her head desperately, tears streaming down her face, her muffled cries heartbreaking.

Orion’s mind was made up. Rather than let her, a true child, be taken as a “battle slave”—a fate he couldn’t even imagine—he would go himself. He had Abundance’s Blessing. He could heal. He could endure.

“Very good! I like your stubbornness! That fire in your eyes!” the leader burst into laughter. “Let’s see how long it lasts in the fighting pits!”

“Bring the reins!”

A Foxian slave, his own ears torn, tremblingly handed over a set of reins. They weren’t leather. They were made from creature sinews, and Orion could see tiny, sharp barbs embedded on the inside, designed to sting and bite at the nerves.

The leader personally, and roughly, put the collar around Orion’s neck, snapping it shut. The barbs pricked his skin instantly.

A burning, profound, and absolute sense of humiliating restraint welled up in his heart. He was no longer a person. He was property. He was a “battle slave.”

“Remember, little brat,” the leader leaned close, his breath hot and rank. “From now on, these reins are your life. I hope you live a little longer than the last one.”

“Take him away! Put the female cub with the other slave-stock!”

“No! Brother! BROTHER!” Jiang Li shrieked as a guard grabbed her, separating them.

Orion was yanked forward by the reins, the barbs digging in. He looked back at his sister, who was crying and struggling.

“Brother… I’m sorry… it’s all my fault… I’m sorry!” she cried.

“Silly girl,” he forced his voice to be calm, though the reins were choking him. “It’s not your fault. Stay strong. We… we’ll be fine.”

He was lying. He had no idea if they would be fine. But he had to be her brother. He couldn’t let her see his own despair.

Soon, you were pushed into a small, dark, and impossibly foul-smelling cell in the prison area. The heavy iron door slammed shut, plunging you into darkness.

As your eyes adjusted to the gloom, a wary, fierce voice snapped from the corner.

“Who are you?”

Through the faint light, you saw two other figures huddled in the corner, both children. They were two Foxian girls, about your age.

The one in front, the one who spoke, had striking, messy silver hair and fierce, luminescent green eyes. She was holding a sharpened piece of scrap metal like a shiv, aiming it at you.

Behind her, a small-framed girl with jet-black hair was hiding timidly, her large, dark eyes wide with fear.

“Stop, don’t come closer!” the silver-haired girl growled, her voice trembling but full of threat.

You stood alone, your hand instinctively moving to the hidden dagger, your body tensing. Jiang Li was gone, separated. These two were not allies. They were potential threats.

The Foxians here, born under the shadow of the Borisin, would do anything to survive. You were the newcomer, the interloper in their space.

For a moment, a tense, deadly atmosphere filled the small, dark cell. Three children, all survivors, all ready to kill.