Honkai Star Rail: My Death Feeds Their Madness — Chapter 101

Chapter 101: Not Changed One Bit

Time flowed like water. For a long-life species, a few decades was merely a fleeting shadow. Yet when those years were violently thrown into the meat grinder of a galactic battlefield, every single second stretched into an agonizing eternity.

The flames of war across the Atedlan Ring Belt burned without end for another twenty-two years. This was no light entry destined for a history book. It was a slaughterhouse built upon the shattered flesh and broken weapons of countless Cloud Knights.

In the beginning, the Abominations of Abundance swarmed like a plague of locusts. The moment one wave was reduced to ash, another would surge from the dark void to take its place. Across a star system spanning thousands of light-years, not a single patch of pure land remained untouched by the stench of blood.

The faces of the soldiers under his command changed with sickening frequency. Fresh recruits would barely learn the names of their squadmates before they were swallowed by the tide, joining the veterans who had already vanished into the abyss.

But whether it was Kagashi or Mo Tingquan, they grew accustomed to the loss. It was a terrifying, hollow habit.

The destiny of the first detachment was to be permanently nailed to the absolute front of the battle line. Combat losses were never a probability; they were a guarantee.

For decades, wherever the Abominations clustered thickest in the dead zones of space, a solitary, blood-drenched figure would appear.

He required no vanguard. He asked for no tactical support.

Wherever Kagashi walked, whether he faced the Borisin with their monstrous regenerative flesh or the Wingweavers who darkened the skies, all were reduced to withered bone and drifting ash.

Though none dared to speak the words aloud, the awe the Cloud Knights felt upon witnessing his butchery was heavily eclipsed by a suffocating dread.

That blood-red shadow was entirely too cold.

It was not the biting chill of ice, but an absolute, hollow indifference that viewed living beings as nothing more than weeds waiting to be cut down. Even knowing Kagashi was exterminating the mortal enemies of the Xianzhou, the soldiers could not shake the heavy weight settling in their chests.

Over the long, grueling years, Kagashi rarely removed his armor. Beneath the cover of endless slaughter, he quietly seized everything he could from the corpses of his enemies. Vast, chaotic torrents of Abundance energy were violently ripped from the fallen, forcibly purified and compressed through the higher-level blessing of The Self-Actualization Aspect.

Drop by drop, the stolen vitality was refined. It became a power he could command as easily as his own breathing, flowing silently into his elixir organ.

When the final nest of Abominations collapsed into burning ruin, a long-awaited, deafening cheer erupted across the communication frequencies of the Atedlan Ring Belt.

The war, which had dragged on for thirty-two grueling years, was finally over.

Mo Tingquan stood on the bridge of the battered command ship. He let out a long, trembling breath and turned his gaze toward the corner of the deck.

Kagashi sat in the shadows. Mianxue and Qinghan stood quietly at his sides.

His eyes were closed. The suffocating scent of dried blood clung to his armor, and a terrifying, tyrannical aura seemed to be violently suppressing itself back beneath his skin.

“It really wasn’t easy, Lord Kagashi.”

Mo Tingquan walked over, offering a heavy metal flask of wine.

Kagashi slowly opened his eyes. A violent flash of dark crimson flickered deep within his pupils before melting back into calm clarity.

He accepted the flask with a casual motion but did not raise it to his lips. Instead, he looked down through the viewport at the devastated, burning world below.

“Yes, it’s enough…”

Enough. Mo Tingquan assumed he meant enough Abominations had been slaughtered to pay the blood debt.

Only Mianxue and Qinghan, standing silently behind him, understood the true weight of those words.

On the day of the triumphant return, the Yaoqing Xianzhou erupted in celebration. Gongs and drums echoed through the artificial skies.

As the undisputed hero of the campaign, the name Kagashi struck like thunder in the ears of countless Yaoqing citizens. This had been the largest expedition in their modern history. With the General personally leading the charge, battle reports had flooded back every month.

But those reports also carried the endless lists of the fallen.

Some citizens wailed openly in the streets. Others choked back their grief, their chests swelling with bitter pride as they sang ancient hymns for the Cloud Knight martyrs.

In the grand square of the Cloud Knight barracks, General Sha Feng and the Valiant Guards stood in solemn silence, personally awarding posthumous honors to the dead.

“Salute!”

Thousands of Cloud Knights moved as one, the sharp clatter of their armor ringing out as they delivered the highest military salute to their fallen brothers and sisters.

Finally, the ceremony shifted to honor the living.

Standing at the very front was the man who had hunted more Abominations than anyone else in the fleet.

Sha Feng looked at Kagashi. The young man’s aura had grown entirely unfathomable. A trace of complex doubt flickered in the General’s eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Fighting on the vanguard for over thirty years… you have endured much.”

Sha Feng stepped forward, pinning a heavy purple-gold medal to Kagashi’s chest. His voice carried a heavy, emotional weight.

“By Cloud Knight regulations, you are granted a five-year extended leave. During this time, you will not be mobilized unless a major crisis threatens the ship. Rest well.”

“Thank you, General.”

There was no trace of joy on Kagashi’s face. There was only the quiet relief of a man who had finally reached the end of a long, exhausting road.

Once the military formalities concluded, Kagashi did not return to his estate. He walked straight into the Alchemy Commission, handling the sterile halls until he pushed open the door to a highly restricted intensive care ward.

The room was exactly as he had left it. Time seemed to have frozen within these four walls.

Jingliu lay quietly on the pristine white bed.

Decades had passed. The relentless march of time had carved faint traces of exhaustion onto her beautiful features, marks that should never belong to a long-life species. Bound to the bed for so long, her physical energy constantly drained, she looked fragile and terribly pale.

Kagashi walked to the edge of the bed. He reached out, gently pressing his fingers against her slender wrist.

Her pulse was frighteningly weak, far slower than it had been thirty-two years ago. The Sky-Quelling Danzu buried within her was still insatiably devouring everything it could touch, slowly eating away her life force.

If the Alchemy Commission had not poured an ocean of precious, rare medicinal ingredients into her body to sustain her, she would have faded away long ago.

“Master is back.”

Kagashi spoke the words in a soft whisper. His voice carried a heavy, indescribable sorrow.

His fingers brushed lightly against his disciple’s cold cheek. The absolute freezing indifference he wore on the battlefield melted away, replaced by a deep, quiet tenderness he allowed no one else to see.

The next morning.

“Lord Kagashi, given Miss Jingliu’s current physical deterioration, if she leaves the intensive care of the Alchemy Commission, I fear she will not last ten days… Please, you must reconsider.”

Healer Jiao Ling stood in the doorway, cold sweat beading on her forehead as she watched the man move around the room.

Kagashi’s expression remained perfectly calm. He methodically detached the complex monitoring equipment from Jingliu’s body, ignoring the frantic beeping of the machines. With practiced care, he gathered her fragile form into his arms.

“If the medical arts of the Yaoqing were truly effective, why has she remained trapped in this slumber until today?”

He adjusted his grip, ensuring her head rested comfortably against his chest.

“If I leave her here, she will not survive another three years. I have found a renowned doctor from beyond this world. This is her final chance.”

“But…”

“I am her Master. I will bear the full weight of any consequences. The Alchemy Commission holds no blame. Thank you for your dedicated care over these long years, Healer Jiao Ling.”

Leaving those final words hanging in the sterile air, Kagashi strode out of the ward, holding Jingliu close to his heart.

Jiao Ling slumped against the doorframe, powerless to stop him. She could only sigh heavily as the master and disciple vanished down the long corridor.

A long-distance star skiff was already idling at the private docks, its engines humming quietly.

Kagashi stepped aboard. He carefully settled Jingliu into the passenger seat, carefully adjusting the complex safety harnesses across her chest to ensure she would not be jostled during the flight.

“Let’s head out.”

Mianxue and Qinghan, seated in the pilot and co-pilot chairs, nodded in unison. The jade helm spun smoothly under their hands.

The star skiff surged forward, transforming into a brilliant streak of light that pierced the artificial sky of the Yaoqing, vanishing entirely as it crossed through the spatial gate.

No one in the military knew where he was going. No one in the Alchemy Commission knew the name of this mysterious doctor from beyond their world.

Three years later.

Yaoqing Xianzhou, an elegant, isolated grotto-haven far from the bustling city centers.

It was late autumn. A thick blanket of golden ginkgo leaves covered the quiet, winding streets.

A sleek black star skiff cut through the crisp air, gliding effortlessly through the restricted airspace before touching down silently in the private docking courtyard.

The heavy hatch hissed open.

Kagashi was the first to step out into the autumn breeze.

He wore a simple, unadorned green robe. His long dark hair was tied back loosely at the nape of his neck. He looked entirely like a gentle, wandering scholar returning from a long journey.

After three years of complete silence, the suffocating aura of blood and death that had clung to his bones had vanished without a trace.

A moment later, a second figure emerged from the shadows of the cabin.

A moon-white dress trailed elegantly across the metal ramp. Long, ice-colored hair cascaded down her back like a frozen waterfall, reaching her slender waist. Her skin was as pale as fresh snow, and her features possessed a cold, otherworldly beauty.

Jingliu stepped onto the stone path. She raised her head slightly, her crimson eyes taking in the quiet courtyard of the home she had been away from for so long. Her expression was distant, as if she had just woken up in another universe.

It had not changed one bit.

But she had been asleep for decades.