Honkai Star Rail: My Death Feeds Their Madness — Chapter 95

Chapter 95: Heading to the Luofu

The biting winds of the Xianzhou Xuling howled across a mountain peak that pierced the sea of clouds.

“Greetings, Marshal.”

“What is your request?”

Marshal Fu Hua stood at the very edge of the precipice, her back turned to Kagashi. Her hands were clasped loosely behind her back as she gazed out at the endless expanse of the sky, dispensing with any pleasantries the moment she spoke.

Her blunt reaction did not fall outside of Kagashi’s expectations. He saw no reason to beat around the bush either.

“I want to see the Originator of Longevity.”

Fu Hua’s posture stiffened, her expression flickering slightly in the howling wind. Though she did not turn around, her eyes instinctively darted to the side.

He had said ‘want’, not ‘would like’. It was a demand born of absolute necessity, not a polite request.

“Tell me first, what does she mean to you?” Fu Hua asked, her voice carrying over the rushing wind, seemingly shifting the topic entirely.

Kagashi did not answer immediately.

His thoughts drifted through the heavy fog of past years, skimming across the tragic waters of his previous life and this current one. He possessed ready-made answers, hollow words he could easily offer, but he wanted to reach into the deepest recesses of his heart to find the most authentic truth.

Having lived two lives, the agonizing overlaps in his experiences were impossible to ignore. Comparing them by their respective stages, both existences had begun by enduring deep loss from a young age.

In his previous life as a Short-Life Species, he had deliberately stayed away from the clamor of the universe, quietly finishing his days without allowing the mortal world to stain him. In a narrow sense, from the very moment his hometown was reduced to ashes, he had lost everything and was left to wander the cosmos entirely alone. But in a broader sense, he had found brief warmth… a senior from the Genius Society who served as both a guiding mentor and a cherished friend.

There was also the young girl who had accompanied him through the final, fading journey of his life, offering him her entire heart. He could only sigh at the cruel joke of time; he was born long before she was, and by the time she finally entered the world, he was already old, his body failing.

And in his current life as a Long-Life Species, from the moment he was forced to shoulder the crushing weight of responsibility, he had lost two close relatives in the span of just a few decades.

Kagashi slowly looked up at Fu Hua’s back, his voice calm as he recounted the unvarnished truth from the depths of his soul.

Ever since the second Abundance Plague War, he had become the sole anchor for his mother’s continued existence in this world. He had treated her as the primary seal holding back the raging fire of hatred within his own heart, and the two of them had supported each other through hundreds of agonizing years.

That was until the year 6300 of the Star Calendar, when that fragile seal completely shattered.

He should have been left with absolutely nothing once again. However, at the very last moment, his mother had used a single, desperate thread to sew that shattered seal back together. Although the mending was far from thorough, let alone airtight, it was enough. At the very least… it was enough to form a new anchor.

Kagashi, born on the Xianzhou Cangcheng, should have died in a spiritual sense in the year 6300. Yet, because of that thread, he had managed to live for another dozen or so years.

Jingliu was that thread.

His initial thought had likely been nothing more than a fleeting obligation to take care of her until she reached adulthood. Nothing more, nothing less. But gradually… the quiet reality of their days together changed him.

He watched Jingliu pour out countless amounts of sweat and blood, pushing herself to the brink of collapse because she was entirely unwilling to fail the martial arts he taught her. He saw her instinctively shrink back when facing impossible difficulties, only to grit her teeth, grip her sword, and choose to meet the danger head-on. He watched her grow from a thin, weak, and broken girl who had lost everything into the proud Cloud Knight she was today, fully capable of standing on her own two feet.

It was only because of his deliberately harsh demands and punishing challenges that she remained completely unaware of his internal shift. In reality, she had done very well… exceptionally well. To a Long-Life Species, a dozen or so years were but a brief, fleeting moment. Yet Jingliu, moving with the steadiest of steps, had transformed from a sheltered, wealthy young lady with zero martial foundation into a brilliant standout among the Cloud Knights, easily surpassing countless seasoned veterans.

Given just a little more time, she would undoubtedly take the top spot in the Cloud Knight martial examinations and earn her promotion to Valiant Guard.

On many quiet nights, looking down at his disciple’s face as she fell asleep utterly exhausted from training, his long-dead heart had actually begun to feel a faint, aching warmth. The increasingly uncontrollable madness clawing at his mind had also gradually softened in her presence.

Unknowingly, she had become his greatest concern, as well as the most vital anchor for maintaining his slipping humanity.

Once, his young disciple had looked up at him with burning eyes, declaring that she wanted to kill all the Abominations of Abundance. She had begged him to teach her the absolute methods of slaughter.

He had agreed.

But now, his proud disciple lay motionless on a cold sickbed, unable to wake up. Her physical condition was deteriorating by the day, and the most brilliant healers could not even find the cause of the illness.

It shouldn’t be like this.

“The day I gave Jingliu my word, I secretly made a promise to myself,” Kagashi said, his voice carrying a quiet, unbreakable resolve. “Therefore, I will not, and absolutely cannot, fail her.”

Hearing this, Fu Hua’s eyes flickered, a rare hint of emotion breaking through her stoic facade. She turned her head slightly, studying Kagashi’s calm, bottomless eyes, but she could read no other emotion within them.

Without any warning, Fu Hua suddenly stepped forward, her hand shooting out to grab Kagashi’s wrist. Her fingers pressed firmly against his pulse points, lingering for ten long seconds before she finally let go.

A deep, heavy complexity surfaced in her eyes. She felt the chaotic, ruinous state of his internal energies. She had a thousand things she wanted to ask, a thousand warnings she wanted to give, but as the words reached her lips, she found she did not know how to speak them.

The Xianzhou Cangcheng had fallen to ruin, and as the Marshal of the Cloud Knights, she had been entirely unable to stop it. What right did she have to lecture him now? Just because she held a high title?

Fu Hua only felt the bitter sense of powerlessness in her heart grow deeper. The higher the position one held, the more one realized how many things were entirely beyond their control. She had no standing, no moral high ground from which to criticize a man as candid and broken as Kagashi.

Some things did not need to be spoken aloud to be completely understood.

“Is it worth it?”

In the end, Fu Hua felt those four words were the only thing she could offer.

“Such is fate; I have no other choice, Marshal.” Kagashi remained entirely composed, his voice devoid of hesitation.

Fate… Hearing that word, Fu Hua instinctively held her breath, slowly closing her eyes against the biting wind.

The Kagashi Family owed no one. They did not owe the Xianzhou Alliance, and they certainly did not owe her. Everything had started because of the Xianzhou; the cruel gears of fate were inextricably linked to their collective history. The cause was planted during the bloody days of the second Abundance Plague War, and the bitter effect was reaped when the Cangcheng fell.

From that moment on, Kagashi could never turn back. He was never supposed to have walked such a dark, agonizing path of fate. In truth, many descendants of the Kagashi Family wouldn’t have; they were simply too coerced by the heavy shackles of the past, left with absolutely no choice but to march toward their own destruction.

Instead… she was the one who owed him.

A glowing Jade Abacus flew through the air, arcing directly toward Kagashi.

“Go to the Luofu, then,” Fu Hua said, turning her gaze back to the misty, endless horizon.

“Thank you for your help, Marshal. This subordinate takes his leave.” Kagashi caught the Jade Abacus smoothly, stowed it away, and turned to depart down the mountain path.

“I hope that one day in the future, you will be able to pass away in peace,” Fu Hua called out softly, her voice barely carrying over the wind.

“I will leave a sharp blade for that day.”

Kagashi understood the heavy implication behind the Marshal’s words, yet he did not slow his pace for even a fraction of a second. From the very moment he had told Shafeng he wanted an audience with Fu Hua, he had been fully prepared to confess everything.

The journey across the starfield was silent and solitary. Kagashi’s star skiff cut through the dark void, leaving the howling peaks of the Xuling behind as he charted a direct course for the Xianzhou Luofu.

Hours later, deep beneath the bustling surface of the Luofu, the air grew thick, cold, and suffocating.

General Tengxiao never imagined that reuniting with Kagashi would involve personally escorting the man into the absolute deepest, darkest level of the Shackling Prison. Even less did he imagine that the person he was taking Kagashi to see was considered an absolute, unspoken taboo across the entire Xianzhou Alliance.

The Originator of Longevity. The very first person recorded in Xianzhou history to obtain the curse of endless life.

His crimes were only vaguely recorded in the most restricted archives, briefly noting his abhorrent refinement of the Elixir of Immortality. The cell used to imprison this entity had to be entirely cast from pure Celestial Gold, with the thickness of the four walls measuring no less than seven inches. Highly concentrated Sedative Gas had to be continuously pumped into the chamber without a single second of interruption.

Under normal circumstances, absolutely no one was allowed to wake him, let alone enter the cell to hold a conversation. Even if the slightest signs of awakening appeared on the monitors, the Marshal had to be notified immediately.

But now, right in the middle of the Luofu’s Vidyadhara High Elder undergoing Hatching Rebirth, Kagashi had suddenly arrived on the Luofu armed with the Marshal’s direct instructions to see this very prisoner.

It was truly intriguing.

“Kagashi, what exactly is going on here? Is there any scrap of info you can reveal to me?” Tengxiao couldn’t help but ask, his heavy boots echoing against the metallic floor of the prison corridor.

Kagashi was not a talkative man by nature, nor did he have any intention of informing the General about Jingliu’s deteriorating condition.

“You know full well that anything involving the Originator of Longevity is strictly confidential.”

“I’m not surprised by the secrecy,” Tengxiao countered, crossing his arms as they waited for a heavy blast door to cycle open. “What surprises me is why the Marshal sent you, a man stationed on the Yaoqing, instead of dispatching a General directly from the Xuling.”

“…” Kagashi chose silence, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead.

“In recent years, I’ve only heard scattered reports of your achievements in slaying Abominations on the front lines, but I don’t actually know how you’ve been doing,” Tengxiao continued, refusing to let the silence settle. “And what about that little disciple you took in? After that accidental battle, I’d imagine she’s returned to the front—”

“You are as talkative as ever, Tengxiao,” Kagashi interrupted smoothly, his tone flat.

“Am I? You’re not even willing to call me General now.”

“Just lead the way, General.”

Tengxiao sighed, shaking his head as the massive Celestial Gold doors finally began to part with a heavy, mechanical groan. “…It seems I’d prefer you just call me Tengxiao. At least it sounds a bit more human.”