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ArabicHonkai Star Rail: My Death Feeds Their Madness — Chapter 60
Chapter 60: Don’t Blame Master for Being Cruel
“Grip it tight. If you wish to become a Cloud Knight, you must never let your weapon leave your hand, nor let your form falter.”
“Yes, Master!”
“Stand firm. Your legs must not shake. An unstable lower body is easily breached by the enemy.”
Kagashi swung the wooden training sword in his hand, bringing it down against the back of Jingliu’s leg with a sharp, unforgiving crack.
“Maintain the standard posture and swing your sword three thousand times consecutively. If even one swing is non-standard, the count restarts.” His voice was devoid of any warmth, cutting through the heavy air. “If you cannot complete the quota, keep practicing until you collapse from exhaustion.”
Hearing such harsh demands, the teenage Jingliu felt a sudden chill grip her small frame despite the sweltering heat.
“Yes, Master…”
“Begin.”
Kagashi stepped back a few paces, his expression unreadable, and stood to the side to watch her every move with hawkish intensity.
Time dragged on. Sweat washed over Jingliu’s flushed cheeks like a burst dam, gathering at her chin and dripping onto the scorched earth below.
Her vision grew blurry at the edges, her pale hands gripping the hilt of the longsword with white-knuckled desperation.
“One thousand six hundred and twenty-one. One thousand six hundred and twenty-two…”
With every upward heave and downward slash, the muscles in both of her arms screamed in agony. It felt as though they were being seared by red-hot branding irons, the flesh burning with a relentless, tearing pain.
The steel longsword, which originally weighed only a few pounds, now felt as heavy as a boulder. Every whistle of the blade cutting through the stagnant air was accompanied by the young girl’s heavy, ragged panting.
It was high noon. The blazing sun hung overhead like a merciless torch.
The ground of the expansive martial arts field was scalding hot, the radiating heat baking the wind until it felt like the breath of a furnace.
Kagashi stood beneath the scorching sun with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were like a pool of stagnant water, completely unmoved by the trembling figure struggling in front of him.
If Jingliu’s sword path deviated by even a single inch, or if her breathing missed half a beat, his cold gaze would catch it instantly.
“Your posture is wrong. Restart the three thousand swings.”
With a subtle flick of his wrist, Kagashi’s wooden sword darted forward, striking Jingliu’s wrist with pinpoint accuracy.
Jingliu gasped in sudden pain. Her hand shook violently from the sharp spasm, and the heavy longsword nearly slipped from her slick, sweaty grasp.
She bit down on her lower lip until tiny beads of crimson blood welled up, forcing her numb, trembling fingers to lock back onto the hilt.
“One of the advantages we Long-Life Species hold over the Short-Life Species is the presence of an extra organ within our bodies, the elixir organ.”
Kagashi’s voice remained flat, offering instruction without a shred of sympathy.
“Do not use brute force to fight your fatigue. Control your breathing rhythm. Feel the energy released by the elixir organ during high-intensity exertion, and mobilize every inch of your muscles to absorb it.”
“…Yes! Mas…ter…”
Jingliu’s voice wavered, breaking under the strain as she swung her sword again, desperately trying to follow Kagashi’s guidance and tap into that hidden well of energy.
Unknowingly, the hours bled away, and the setting sun stretched their silhouettes long across the dusty courtyard.
Six hours had passed, and she still had not completed the impossible task Kagashi had set for her.
“Restart.”
Jingliu’s vision began to darken at the corners, a dizzying wave of vertigo washing over her mind.
Her limbs had lost almost all sensation, operating purely on stubborn muscle memory as she continued to raise and lower the blade.
“One. Two. Three…”
Taking advantage of the brief gap when Jingliu opened her mouth to drag in a desperate breath of air, Kagashi flicked his fingers, silently tossing a tiny, unassuming pill into her mouth.
It was a specialized supplementary medicine designed for ascetic practice, effectively preventing the body from suffering severe dehydration or organ failure.
If not for that hidden mercy, Jingliu would have collapsed into the dirt long ago.
Night gradually fell, painting the sky in deep shades of indigo.
“One thousand eight hundred and ninety-nine… one thousand nine hundred…”
Before the final downward swing could be completed, Jingliu’s trembling legs finally gave way. Her strength was entirely spent, and she collapsed forward into the void.
But the expected mouthful of coarse dust never came.
A steady, powerful hand grabbed the back collar of her training tunic, pulling upward with just enough force to let her barely stabilize her footing.
“Thank you, Mas…ter…”
Jingliu wanted to cry, but after sweating endlessly beneath the sun, there was no excess moisture left in her body for tears. Three thousand was a hopeless number. She simply could not complete it.
Just as she tried to force her leaden legs to stand upright and begin again, her vision went completely black. She fell toward the ground once more, finally landing against Kagashi’s chest.
Even in unconsciousness, her blistered hands remained locked in a death grip around the longsword.
Kagashi knelt down and gently pried her stiff fingers open one by one. His gaze swept over her small palms. The skin had been rubbed completely raw, and smeared blood stained the leather wrap of the sword hilt. Seeing this, the cold hardness that had masked his eyes all day gradually melted away into a quiet, deep sorrow.
He scooped Jingliu’s small, fragile body into his arms, holding her close to his chest as he walked across the empty martial arts field toward the inner residence.
A bitter yet refreshing scent of medicinal herbs permeated the warm air of the bathing room.
Placing the unconscious Jingliu on a soft couch behind a painted folding screen, Kagashi retrieved a specialized healing spray and carefully applied a cool mist over her ruined palms.
The Xianzhou natives were blessed by the Power of Abundance, allowing their wounds to heal at a vastly accelerated rate compared to Short-Life Species. With the aid of external medicine, the raw, bleeding flesh of her palms quickly soothed and began to scab over.
Once the injuries were fully healed, not a single scar would remain.
Generally speaking, this miraculous regenerative ability was a tremendous advantage for the Xianzhou people. However, in certain tragic circumstances, it became a terrible curse, particularly for those afflicted with the Heaven-Deficient conditions, born with innate disabilities.
If a Heaven-Deficient individual was blind, even if their eyes were temporarily cured through surgery, the Power of Abundance would eventually force their body to revert, rendering them blind once more.
If they suffered from dwarfism, even if they grew taller through special methods, their bones would inevitably shrink back to their original state.
There were also some extremely subtle Heaven-Deficient conditions that could lie dormant within a person’s bloodline for decades, or even centuries, before suddenly manifesting.
Fortunately, Jingliu currently showed no symptoms of being Heaven-Deficient. She was merely physically delicate, having grown up sheltered with a silver spoon in her mouth before tragedy struck.
Setting the healing spray aside, Kagashi withdrew a small white jade bottle from his robes. He walked behind the screen, poured a shimmering green powder into a large wooden tub, and added boiling water.
The medicinal powder dissolved instantly upon contact with the water, bubbling and frothing with strange, vibrant colors as it emitted a thick, restorative aura.
After tossing a handful of expensive, freshly prepared herbs into the steaming water, he rolled up his long sleeves and walked back toward the couch.
Jingliu’s training clothes had long been soaked through with sweat, the fabric clinging tightly to her thin back, mixed with grit and soil from the courtyard.
Kagashi’s slender fingers rested on the top button of her collar, gently and respectfully undoing the clasps.
As the ruined garments were peeled away, her skin, flushed a feverish red from the extreme heat and exhaustion, was exposed to the cool indoor air.
Her delicate shoulders and elbows were covered in shocking, dark patches of bruising, the ugly result of severe muscle tearing from the excessive sword swings.
Kagashi brought over a basin of warm water and submerged a soft cotton towel, wringing it out before carefully wiping away the sweat, dirt, and grime from her battered body.
Whenever the warm cloth brushed against her bruised flesh, the sleeping Jingliu would subconsciously furrow her brow and let out a faint, pained whimper.
Hearing that sound, Kagashi’s movements became even gentler, his touch as light as a falling feather.
Once the careful cleaning was finished, he picked Jingliu up and slowly lowered her into the wooden tub, ensuring the medicinal liquid was at the perfect temperature to soothe rather than scald.
“Mmm…”
The moment the hot, herbal water enveloped her, Jingliu’s small body trembled violently.
The potent medicinal power surged through her open pores, forcefully washing over her overextended muscles and repairing the torn cells from the inside out.
A few minutes passed in quiet stillness, and Jingliu’s ragged, shallow breathing gradually deepened and stabilized.
Her small face, previously pale and drawn from utter exhaustion, slowly took on a healthy, faint pink hue under the nourishing influence of the medicinal steam.
The horrific surface injuries that had been too painful to look at reduced in swelling, recovering at a visible, miraculous rate.
More than an hour later.
The vibrant green liquid in the wooden tub had gradually turned transparent, a clear sign that the medicinal power had been fully absorbed into the girl’s body.
Kagashi lifted the soaking girl out of the water, wrapping her securely in a thick, fluffy bath towel. He dried her damp skin and hair with practiced care, finally dressing her in a set of loose, clean pajamas before carrying her gently back to her bedroom.
Laying her down on the mattress, he pulled the blankets up to her chin. Jingliu’s brow was completely relaxed now, her breathing even and deep in the safety of sleep.
A sliver of pale moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating the quiet room.
Kagashi picked up a silver moon jade pendant resting on the bedside table. He examined the complex carving for a long, silent moment, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he leaned down and tied it securely around Jingliu’s neck.
In truth, even if Jingliu had chosen to spend the rest of her long life hiding in a daze, paralyzed by her past, he would have willingly taken care of her forever.
After all, it was her mother’s dying wish.
But fear and despair were not easily washed away by the passage of time. To live a life cowering in the shadows would be a torment far worse than death. Perhaps it was better for her to face that paralyzing fear by forging it into a weapon of hatred.
‘Jingliu, do not blame your Master for being cruel,’ Kagashi thought, his gaze lingering on her peaceful face.
Since she had chosen this bloody path, he absolutely would not allow her to die easily on the battlefield.
To survive the horrors of war, one had to gain absolute power, and the price for that power was a level of hardship and sacrifice utterly unimaginable to ordinary people.