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ArabicHonkai Star Rail: My Death Feeds Their Madness — Chapter 50
Chapter 50: I Choose to Challenge Guard Kagashi
Kagashi withdrew his gaze, his voice carrying a quiet, unwavering calm as he announced the commencement of the challenge trials.
The young girl whose name had just been called drew a ragged breath. She stepped onto the elevated platform. The morning sun had not yet reached its blinding zenith, but the sheer weight of the dense crowd pressing in from all sides made her heart hammer against her ribs. From the packed spectator stands, thousands of eyes fixed upon her solitary figure. Sweat beaded along her palms, soaking into the hilt of her wooden training sword.
“Good luck.”
A gloved hand rested lightly against her shoulder.
Kagashi did not speak loudly, yet his tone possessed a strange, grounding magic. The girl inhaled deeply, nodding with sudden vigor. That brief touch carried a steadying weight, instantly washing away the paralyzing edge of her nerves.
“I… I wish to challenge Valiant Guard Mo Tingquan!”
The moment the words left her lips, a man clad in gleaming silver armor vaulted from the viewing gallery. He stepped lightly off the chassis of a passing surveillance cycrane in mid-air, using the mechanical bird as a springboard to execute a flawless flip. He landed without a sound exactly three meters in front of the challenger. Sunlight caught the edges of his shoulder guards, casting a brilliant, fleeting glare across the arena.
Mo Tingquan offered a polite smile and a nod. With a casual flick of his wrist, a wooden training sword settled into his grip.
“Please guide me…!”
The girl cupped her fists in a formal salute. As her fingers tightened around her hilt, her gaze sharpened, shedding its youthful hesitation for a raw, unpolished edge.
Deafening cheers rolled down from the stands. She knew the reality of this trial; the moment a true Cloud Knight Vanguard struck with intent, she would not last a single breath. But she needed them to see the blood and sweat she had poured into these past few days.
She held her breath, dropping her center of gravity before lunging forward. Her wooden blade carved a diagonal arc upward. It was a fundamental strike, yet carried impressive speed.
Mo Tingquan merely shifted his weight, sidestepping the arc without raising his own weapon. The girl twisted her waist, converting her momentum into a horizontal slash. He took a half-step back, letting the wooden edge glide harmlessly past his breastplate.
A collective gasp rippled through the audience.
Undeterred by the miss, the girl pressed the assault, chaining together a relentless flurry of strikes. She used every stance drilled into her during practical training. Though rigid and strictly by the book, her transitions flowed like water. Sweat trailed down her temples, stinging her eyes.
By the fifth exchange, as her blade swept toward his helmet, Mo Tingquan finally reacted.
He raised his left hand, casually tapping the flat of her blade with the back of his gauntlet. A sharp crack rang out. The sheer kinetic shock derailed her sword path instantly. The force behind his parry was not heavy, yet it shattered her balance, forcing her to stumble back two steps. By the time she righted herself, her chest heaved with ragged breaths.
‘Just a little bit more.’
Gritting her teeth, she charged again. This time, she altered her rhythm, feinting a high strike before dropping low for a sweeping strike at his legs.
Mo Tingquan leaped over the sweep. The instant his boots touched the stone, the girl rode her upward momentum, thrusting the tip of her sword directly toward his face. It was her most practiced, desperate maneuver.
He merely tilted his head. The wooden tip whistled past his ear.
Before she could retract her arm, the cold, blunt edge of Mo Tingquan’s sword rested gently against her throat.
The girl froze, her lungs burning as the reality of her defeat settled in. The rules dictated that landing a single strike on a Cloud Knight’s helmet within three minutes secured a victory, but nothing prevented the knights from striking back.
“Thank you for the guidance, Valiant Guard Mo Tingquan.”
She did not linger on the loss, respectfully cupping her fists. Her best technique had fallen short; dragging out the bout was meaningless. The Vanguard had clearly seen her limits and chosen to end it cleanly.
A brief silence hung over the arena before shattering into thunderous applause.
“You did well, child. If you join the military after your coming of age, you will undoubtedly achieve great things,” Mo Tingquan offered, his tone warm.
“Yes! I will!”
She bowed her head and marched off the stage. Though defeated, her spine remained perfectly straight. She had nothing to be ashamed of.
Kagashi gave a faint nod of approval and called the next name.
The tempo of the trials accelerated. The second challenger, a tall boy, lasted a mere ten exchanges before his weapon was sent spinning into the dirt. The third match featured a short-haired girl who delivered a brilliant tactical display. She had carefully studied her chosen Vanguard’s habits, predicting his footwork three consecutive times and coming within a hair’s breadth of striking his helmet.
Yet, that final distance remained an impossible chasm as the three-minute timer expired.
It was a harsh reminder of the vast gulf between a student and a true Cloud Knight Vanguard.
As the afternoon wore on, the scorching sun began its descent toward the west. Heavy clouds gathered on the horizon, bleeding the warmth from the air and replacing it with a biting chill.
Challengers came and went. Those who survived the full three minutes earned roaring ovations, while others surrendered after their best strikes met empty air. So far, every student had tasted defeat.
It was the natural order of things. The Cloud Knight Vanguards were veterans forged in the crucible of war, while the challengers were fledglings fresh from their basic drills. The gap in strength could not be bridged by courage alone. Yet, the crowd noticed the Vanguards pulling their strikes, guiding the youths through the clashes and offering quiet words of instruction.
Imperceptibly, half the sky darkened into a bruised, overcast gray.
Wind whipped across the training grounds, kicking up swirling dust, accompanied by the low, distant rumble of thunder.
Another bout concluded. A flicker of genuine interest surfaced in Kagashi’s dark eyes.
“The next challenger. Jingliu.”
Jingliu rose from the waiting area, her steps measured as she ascended the high platform. She possessed a slender, unassuming build, her long blue-and-white hair bound in a high ponytail that danced wildly in the rising wind.
Reaching the center of the arena, she ignored the viewing gallery where the Vanguards sat. She ignored the thousands of spectators.
Her piercing gaze locked entirely onto Kagashi. When she spoke, her voice carried a faint tremor, yet beneath it lay an unbreakable core of determination.
“I choose to challenge Guard Kagashi.”
An uproar tore through the stands.
Every student knew the reality of their hierarchy. While the chief instructor held the rank of a Cloud Knight Vanguard, martial prowess dictated authority. To hold the title of chief instructor meant he was unequivocally the strongest warrior present.
It was an act of staggering, almost foolish courage.
Kagashi’s expression did not shift. He stepped forward, leaping casually into the open air.
With a mere thought, a wooden sword tore itself from the weapon rack. It shot across the arena, hovering perfectly beneath his descending boots, carrying him in a smooth, gliding arc toward the center of the platform.
To the uninitiated students, this display of sword-kinesis was a vision of absolute elegance, igniting a fierce yearning in their chests.
But in the viewing gallery, the seasoned Cloud Knight Vanguards exchanged looks of deep shock.
That was a standard wooden training sword. It was not a legendary artifact forged by the Artisanship Commission, laced with jade abacus circuitry to respond to divine sense. Many elite knights could manipulate flying swords, but to command a dead piece of wood with such flawless precision?
No one could do that.
Blissfully unaware of the martial miracle they had just witnessed, the students continued to cheer.
Staring into the calm, shadowed depths of Kagashi’s eyes beneath his helmet, Jingliu drew a slow, steadying breath. She gripped her hilt and cupped her fists.
“Please guide me, Guard Kagashi!”
The instant Kagashi offered a microscopic nod, Jingliu vanished.
Her blade arrived in the blink of an eye, devoid of any wasted movement or flashy flourishes. Kagashi merely shifted his weight. The wooden edge hissed past his shoulder guard. Using her forward momentum, Jingliu violently twisted her wrist, snapping the blade into a horizontal slash aimed directly at his throat.
Kagashi leaned back, letting the wood glide a fraction of an inch from his face.
Missing her mark, Jingliu immediately retreated three paces, resetting her stance with wary, calculating eyes.
Kagashi did not press the advantage. He had not even moved his feet from their original position.
No one in the crowd found this arrogant. The Vanguards who had faced the more resilient students had all adopted similar defensive postures to test their limits.
As he effortlessly tracked Jingliu’s fierce offensive, a ripple of genuine surprise touched Kagashi’s heart.
He had not expected this. For a wealthy young lady, born into the lap of luxury, to display such lethal proficiency after only a few days of practical training was astonishing. It was clear she had spent every waking hour of her private rest time bleeding over her sword forms in secret.