Honkai Star Rail: My Death Feeds Their Madness — Chapter 74

Chapter 74: Already Inseparable From Master

More than twenty days slipped away like sand through an hourglass, and the Xianzhou Yaoqing sailed silently into the desolate starfield where the Abominations known as the Siluo were suspected to be lurking.

Following a rigorous analysis by the Alchemy Commission’s Abominations Research Department, the Artisanship Commission had successfully engineered a device capable of disrupting the creatures’ unique abilities. Confirming that the Siluo possessed remarkably low intelligence, the Alliance entrusted this extermination campaign to the vanguard of the Cloud Knights.

Jingliu, having just been promoted from the reserve ranks this term, was slated to deploy with the main forces. This would be her very first time stepping onto a true battlefield, where blood and steel replaced wooden practice swords. On the eve of the fleet’s departure, she was granted the customary half-day leave to bid farewell to her family.

But Jingliu no longer had any blood relatives to visit.

She only had her Master.

Before taking her leave, she reached into the folds of her robes and withdrew a small, carefully wrapped object. “Master, this is for you.”

Kagashi accepted the item from her outstretched hands, his gaze dropping to examine it. It was a jade pendant. The center of the ring had been hollowed out and painstakingly carved into the shape of a crescent moon, its pale body half-hidden by delicate wisps of flowing clouds. Beneath the jade hung a silken tassel, its color transitioning naturally from a deep crimson to a light, ethereal scarlet.

Its style and dimensions were strikingly similar to the silver moon pendant he had once gifted his mother—the very same pendant Jingliu now wore around her neck. The only difference lay in the orientation; the patterns of the moon and clouds were completely mirrored. When the two pieces of jade were brought together, they formed a perfect pair, like twin moons reflecting one another across a quiet lake.

“This is… something your disciple prepared in her spare time while Master was away on the expedition…” Jingliu’s voice unconsciously softened, trailing off into a rare, vulnerable murmur.

Kagashi ran his thumb over the slightly rough, unpolished texture of the jade. In his mind’s eye, a vivid image surfaced: Jingliu sitting alone beneath the moonlight, clutching a carving knife, her movements clumsy yet agonizingly careful as she shaped the stone. He knew the traditions of the military all too well. Before marching into their first war, most new recruits would leave a token behind for the person they cherished most. If they fell in battle, it would serve as their final memento.

Kagashi silently tied the jade pendant to his sleeve, the crimson tassel swaying against his wrist. He gave a slight nod.

“Remember, never get separated from your comrades.”

“Your disciple will bear it in mind.”

Suppressing the turbulent, possessive emotions churning violently in her chest, Jingliu turned on her heel. She boarded a waiting star skiff, the vessel cutting through the sky toward the military camp’s explore.

Kagashi stood by the doorway, his quiet gaze lingering on the horizon long after the skiff had vanished into the clouds. Mianxue stepped out from the shadows of the courtyard. Seeing him still staring into the distance, she spoke in a soft, respectful tone.

“Does this subordinate need to apply for a temporary transfer to the vanguard, Lord Kagashi?”

Kagashi remained silent for a long moment. The memory of the incident just before his return flashed through his mind. He had initially intended to refuse the offer, but in the end, he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Mianxue understood immediately. She exchanged a knowing glance with Qinghan, and both women bowed deeply before withdrawing.

They both remembered their own first deployments. When they had marched off to war, their parents’ eyes had held the exact same look that Kagashi’s did right now. It was a heavy, suffocating worry, yet one that was entirely inconvenient to express aloud. After all, from the very moment one swore the oath of the Cloud Knights, this day was an inevitability. The elders had walked this blood-soaked path themselves, and thus, they understood the absolute cruelty of the battlefield better than anyone.

While it was uncommon for Cloud Knights to perish in their maiden battle, it was certainly not unheard of.

“Jingliu is incredibly diligent, and her assessment scores are flawless. With enough practical combat experience, I believe she can undergo a complete transformation,” Qinghan offered gently, trying to ease the heavy atmosphere.

Suddenly, Kagashi felt a familiar, sickening anomaly writhing beneath his skin. His expression remained placid, but he withdrew his gaze from the sky and turned toward the hidden entrance of his secret laboratory.

“I hope so.”

The Yaoqing’s military command had dubbed this eradication operation the Named Abomination Campaign. While the immediate danger level was not considered critical, the Alliance highly valued the potential future risks these creatures posed. Therefore, every last Abomination of the Named species had to be purged. At the very least, they needed to be culled until they were as harmless as the Shirou, posing no significant threat to the Xianzhou’s borders.

Yet, no one could have anticipated just how abnormally smooth the campaign would be.

Across multiple worlds within the targeted star system, the Cloud Knights encountered massive swarms of Siluo, but none of them managed to mount an effective defense. In less than ten days, the entire vanguard returned victorious. There were zero casualties. Only about a hundred inexperienced recruits sustained minor injuries, largely due to their initial unfamiliarity with the Siluo’s attack patterns.

In her official battle report, Mianxue noted that the Siluo had behaved erratically, swarming blindly like headless flies. However, given their extremely low intelligence and their biological inability to connect to a Synesthesia Beacon like the Zhezong, the specific reasons for their disorganized state remained a mystery.

Upon returning to her residence from the military camp, Jingliu felt a sudden, heavy unease grip her heart the moment she laid eyes on Kagashi.

Though they had only been separated for a mere ten days, the crucible of war had opened her eyes. She finally understood why her Master had so strictly emphasized coordinated combat. She also understood the true purpose behind the cruel, hellish training regimen he had forced her to endure.

On the eighth day of their patrol, the new recruits had been tasked with eliminating a low-threat cluster of Siluo without the direct guidance of veteran soldiers. The enemy numbers weren’t overwhelming—only a little over thirty thousand. It was meant to be their final skirmish before returning to the Yaoqing.

Facing the surging, grotesque tide of Abominations, many recruits who usually boasted excellent assessment scores found themselves paralyzed by the sheer terror of the charge. Some even froze in place, their weapons trembling. Fortunately, the Cloud Knights’ reserve training placed a heavy emphasis on mental fortitude. Most of the soldiers quickly snapped out of their stupor, gripping their polearms and executing their assigned duties.

The vanguard held the front line, forming a wall of steel to prevent the Abominations from breaking the formation. Emergency support units darted through the ranks, swiftly filling any gaps left by the injured. Ranged specialists provided precision cover fire, sniping priority targets from afar. The division of labor was clear, but the glaring flaws of inexperienced recruits still bled through.

The most fatal error was overexertion; many didn’t know how to pace their physical stamina and quickly showed signs of severe fatigue., coordination between unfamiliar comrades was often clunky and disjointed.

Yet, Jingliu discovered something incredible during the slaughter. No matter which of her four squadmates fell out of sync, she could instantly detect the shift in rhythm and pivot to cover their blind spots. As a frontline vanguard, she was one of the very few soldiers who never rotated out for rest during the entire engagement. Even as her squadmates were frequently swapped out, she adapted to their unique attack rhythms with terrifying speed.

During the post-battle review, Jingliu clearly saw the massive chasm separating her from her peers. The intensity of their standard military drills was nothing compared to the agonizing, life-threatening special training she had survived under Kagashi. These critical differences were impossible to expose in the camp’s simulated environments, simply because holograms lacked the true, suffocating threat of death. The battlefield was a different beast entirely; a single heartbeat of distraction meant having your throat torn out.

Jingliu recalled the exact words Kagashi had spoken to her.

The weak cannot be compatible with the strong, nor can they adapt to the strong’s domain. But the strong can maximize their compatibility and adaptability to the weak’s domain.

A deep, overwhelming sense of gratitude washed over her. She was so thankful that, after being harshly reprimanded in that crowded hospital room, she had mustered the desperate courage to seize her own future. Without her Master, she would be nothing.

She was still young. She had plenty of time to grow stronger, to sharpen her fangs. As long as she poured every ounce of her soul into her training, she would close the distance. Even if she couldn’t immediately catch up to his pace and enter his domain, she wanted—no, she needed—to be able to glimpse his back. She would become the sharpest blade in his hand, flawlessly cutting down every Abomination that dared to enter his sight.

“Master, I’m back.”

Thousands of chaotic, obsessive words swirled in her throat, but only that simple sentence made it past her lips.

“Hmm. Your first battle was merely adequate. Do not become arrogant, nor slacken your training because of a temporary success,” Kagashi replied, his expression as calm and unreadable as still water.

“Your disciple will obey,” Jingliu agreed, her voice dripping with absolute devotion.

Because… she was already inseparable from her Master. Not now. Not ever.