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ArabicHonkai Star Rail: My Death Feeds Their Madness — Chapter 15
Chapter 15: Worsening
“It is a pity I was too dull-witted to even grasp twenty percent of the knowledge my teacher imparted to me, despite trying my absolute hardest.”
“Even so, she never showed a sliver of displeasure at my lack of talent. She accommodated me in almost every way, nurturing me as I grew.”
Kagashi’s voice was soft, yet every word carried a deep, quiet clarity.
“There is an old saying that a teacher for a day is a parent for a lifetime. To me, she was far more than just a second parent.”
“…I think I can understand Mr. Kagashi’s answer to fate now.”
“You are just a little girl, yet you like to dwell on such heavy topics. When I was your age…”
His voice simply stopped. The silence stretched out in the sterile air of the medical room.
“What is wrong?” Clarice asked.
“…It is nothing. At eighteen, I was just a reckless boy, not much different from any ordinary middle schooler.”
“But, Mr. Kagashi…”
Deep concern etched itself across Clarice’s features. Her voice carried a slight, nervous tremor.
“Why are you… crying?”
Kagashi raised a hand to his cheek. His fingertips brushed against a cold dampness. He lowered his hand, staring blankly at the glistening trace of moisture on his skin.
“Strange…”
He murmured the word to the empty air, pressing his palm flat against his chest to feel the rhythm of his own heart.
A sudden, violent spike of agony pierced through his ribs.
Before he could even process the thought, his throat constricted sharply. He tasted the heavy, metallic tang of iron rising up the back of his throat. He forced his jaw shut, swallowing down the surge of crimson blood that threatened to spill past his lips.
“Sorry, please excuse me for a moment.”
Kagashi turned and walked swiftly out of the medical room. He crossed the corridor, entered his own quarters, and shut the door firmly behind him. He immediately retrieved a small glass bottle from his supplies.
He dry-swallowed four pills of his specialized medication. As the chemical compounds dissolved into his bloodstream, his expression did not ease. Instead, the lines on his face grew heavier.
He had severely underestimated the sheer difficulty of fighting his own accelerated aging.
The efficacy of the medicine had plummeted. Not only was the duration of relief shrinking, but his recent dosage increases had forced his failing body to develop a rapid drug resistance.
He could not push the maximum dosage any higher. The resulting side effects would tear his organs apart, leaving him dead in less than two days.
He needed to synthesize a new, far more potent formula within the week.
If he failed, long before his lifespan officially ran out, he would be reduced to a bedridden, helpless old man waiting for the end.
Kagashi harbored no fear of his impending death. He merely wished to leave this world without leaving behind a trail of regrets.
He still had promises to keep and tasks to finish. He refused to just lie down and surrender, and he absolutely could not let Yu Qingtu discover his condition.
He knew very little about Yu Qingtu’s true nature, but he knew enough to understand that her extreme methods perfectly mirrored those of his teacher, Ruan Mei.
There was a reason the two of them had forged such a close bond despite the vast gap in their ages.
“Mr. Kagashi, are you alright?!”
Clarice’s anxious voice filtered through the heavy wood of the closed door.
“I am fine…”
Kagashi steadied his breathing, forcing his tone into a mask of perfect calm. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, watching his stark white hair and his slowly stabilizing complexion. He let out a silent, weary breath.
“I suddenly remembered an important matter I forgot to relay to my teacher. It will take me about half an hour to handle.”
“That is good then.”
Clarice still sounded slightly uncertain, but the tension left her voice as she stepped away from his door.
Back in the medical room, the monitor hummed quietly. The treatment progress bar ticked from eighty-one percent to eighty-two percent.
Clarice let her racing heart settle and cast her gaze around the quiet room.
The space was empty. The lingering phantom she had witnessed earlier was completely gone, as if the entire phenomenon had been nothing more than a trick of the light.
But she knew it was no hallucination.
She walked slowly toward the exact spot where Kagashi’s phantom had stood. Her expression was complicated, her mind drifting through a sea of distant thoughts.
After a long stretch of silence, she suddenly spun around, her eyes locking onto an empty corner of the room.
There was no one there. Yet, a strange, creeping sensation crawled up her spine. It was the distinct, heavy illusion of being watched.
Clarice furrowed her brows. She closed her eyes and carefully extended her senses, picking up on the subtle atmospheric shifts that ordinary people would never notice.
Having endured years of ostracization and isolation from her peers, she had developed a hyper-awareness of the emotions hidden within a person’s gaze.
Was it the gaze of Mr. Kagashi’s phantom?
No. Mr. Kagashi’s eyes were always gentle. Even if he stared at her for hours, it would feel like a warm spring breeze brushing against her face, utterly devoid of discomfort.
This unseen gaze did not carry any overt malice, but it was far from benevolent.
It felt cold. Calculating. It felt like… scrutiny.
It reminded her of the strict academy instructors sweeping their eyes over a classroom to select committee members, evaluating their worth.
Clarice focused her mind entirely on that empty corner, trying to pierce through the veil of whatever entity had taken residence there.
She found nothing. The eerie sensation lingered until Kagashi finally returned to the room.
“Mr. Kagashi, do you think… there are ghosts in this world?”
“Why the sudden question?”
“…I am just curious.”
“That depends entirely on your definition of a ghost. If you mean the restless spirits from horror movies and supernatural folklore, then strictly speaking, they do not exist.”
“So you mean, in a non-strict sense, ghosts actually do exist?” Clarice asked, a sudden chill running down her back.
“You could say that.”
Kagashi walked over to the medical console. He checked the treatment progress bar, reviewed the program’s runtime library, and only continued speaking once he confirmed the system was perfectly stable.
“I have heard my teacher mention that there are unique energy lifeforms drifting through the universe.”
“In their natural state, they do not possess a fixed physical form. They might be visible but untouchable, or they might exist in a state where they can neither be seen nor touched by ordinary senses.”
“They remain hidden unless they actively desire to be perceived, or unless an observer uses special abilities to pierce their veil.”
“Have you ever heard of Pathstriders?”
‘Pathstriders?’ Clarice repeated the word in her mind, her voice carrying a note of uncertainty when she spoke.
“There is a chemistry professor at our academy who is completely invulnerable to physical weapons. Whenever a project goes wrong and an explosion occurs, he simply walks into the fire and resolves it without a scratch.”
“The Pathstriders you mentioned… they are humans who possess these kinds of special abilities, right?”
Kagashi nodded slowly. “Humans with special abilities are not necessarily Pathstriders, but those who have walked far enough along a universal Path will undoubtedly manifest extraordinary powers.”
“From what I have gathered, striders belonging to certain Path factions possess the inherent ability to shift into a ghost-like state.”
“Which specific factions are those?” Clarice asked.
“One that is absolutely certain is Remembrance. Another is Enigmata… I am not entirely sure about the rest,” Kagashi said, his tone thoughtful.
The Enigmata faction was a detail Yu Qingtu had shared with him during their talks. Ruan Mei had only ever spoken of Remembrance.
“Why did you ask about this?”
“Um… Mr. Kagashi, what I am about to say… please do not be scared…”
“Go ahead.”
“There seems to be a ghost in this room… Not long ago, it felt like something was hiding in the shadows, quietly watching me.”
“Is that so?”
Kagashi paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He considered her words for a brief moment before the tension bled out of his brow.
“There is no need to worry. If it truly is a Pathstrider observing us, they likely harbor no malice toward you. And even if they did, they would not dare to act on it here.”
He thought back to the specific advice he had documented regarding the Path of Remembrance. This unseen observer was almost certainly a Memokeeper from the Garden of Recollection.
The lingering traces of Genius Society Member Number 55 saturated this place. Absolutely no one in the universe would dare to casually offend a true genius.
Yu Qingtu had told him that fact personally.
She had also casually mentioned the time a Cremator from the Remembrance faction had foolishly offended her. She had ended up boiling them down and turning them into a specialized potion.
“Then I can rest easy,” Clarice said, offering a small, relieved nod.
The long night finally began to recede. Outside the window, the sky slowly brightened with the pale, fragile light of dawn.
The moment the progress bar on the medical screen hit one hundred percent, Durand’s eyelashes fluttered. She slowly opened her eyes.
When Clarice leaned over the bed and met her mother’s gaze, she saw the deep, familiar warmth of maternal love shining back at her. The young girl’s eyes instantly welled up with heavy tears.
Kagashi stepped forward to perform a thorough post-operative check. Finding the vitals perfect, he let out a long, slow breath of relief and offered them a heartfelt, gentle smile.
“Ms. Durand, congratulations. From this moment onward, the nightmare of your amnesia has left you forever.”