Honkai Star Rail: Summoning the Chrysos Heirs — Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Making the Deliverer Smile Again

‘After all that, can Phainon really return to the carefree youth he once was?’

Inside the bedroom, heavy blackout curtains completely severed the moonlight from the room. Cyrene sank into the plush depths of her down pillow, her gaze fixed on the pitch-black ceiling. Her mind, which by all rights should have been exhausted from the day’s events, buzzed with a relentless, abnormal energy.

Her slender finger unconsciously twirled a loose lock of pink hair as her thoughts drifted back to the exact moment of the summoning.

When the brilliant golden light had finally dissipated and that tall, imposing figure stepped forward, her chest had tightened with a chaotic mixture of pleasant surprise and an indescribable, lingering apprehension.

Was the man she summoned the innocent youth, the Xiao Bai who had yet to shoulder the crushing weight of the world and could still laugh heartily while playing childish games with Mydei? Or was he Phainon Kaslana, the man whose divinity and ironclad sense of duty were the only things left after being ground down by ten million cycles of brutal reincarnation?

At first, she had clung to a fragile sliver of hope.

Then she heard the System confirm that he had once faced ultimate destruction head-on.

At that exact second, her heart felt as if an invisible, giant hand had ruthlessly squeezed it. It was the latter. It was the Deliverer. The man who, in that hellish crucible named Amphoreus, had watched his closest companions die time and time again, who had restarted the flow of time time and time again, and who had ultimately been forced to freeze his own heart just to survive the agony.

‘With such heavy memories weighing on him… does he even remember how to smile from his heart?’

Cyrene turned over, curling up on her side beneath the covers. Even just glimpsing a tiny, fragmented tip of the iceberg of that long journey through the System’s screen had left her with a suffocating sense of oppression and bitter sorrow. Phainon was the one who had personally trudged through those countless cycles, wading through a quagmire of absolute despair.

She did not want to see him living solely for the sake of others anymore. She wanted to smooth over those deep, invisible wounds. She wanted to see his face light up once again with a genuine, cloudless smile.

This was difficult. It felt as difficult as reaching up and plucking the stars from the heavens.

‘But since I am here, I have to try, do I not?’

Cyrene took a slow, deep breath, pulling the thick quilt up to cover half her face, and silently clenched her fist beneath the sheets. Setting aside the grand, overarching goal of saving the world for now, her primary, immediate task was clear. She needed to order this stubborn Deliverer to learn how to sleep like a normal human being.

A soft yawn escaped her lips. Physiological tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. Cyrene rubbed her slightly dry eyelids and called out softly within her consciousness.

‘System, is Phainon asleep yet?'[Negative. Phainon is currently in the living room reviewing materials regarding modern social structures and history. He has not entered a sleep state.]’I knew it…’Cyrene buried her face deeper into the pillow and let out a muffled grumble. The man was practically a perpetual motion machine that refused to power down.’Forget it, there is plenty of time. I will train him slowly.’

Her consciousness gradually blurred, the edges of her thoughts fraying into darkness. Amidst that helpless, fond sigh, she finally slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, nine o’clock.

Bright sunlight filtered through the sheer inner curtains of the French windows, casting warm, mottled shadows across the wooden floorboards.

“Good morning.”

Cyrene pushed open her bedroom door and padded into the living room, stretching her arms high above her head.

She had no idea when Phainon had returned to the sofa. He sat there in perfect, rigid posture, holding a thick copy of the Xinhai City Gazette. Upon hearing the soft rustle of her clothes, his gaze shifted from the dense columns of text to Cyrene.

The cold, hard lines of his face visibly softened the very second his golden eyes landed on the girl. He closed the newspaper, the corners of his mouth turning up in a faint, almost imperceptible curve.

“Good morning, Cyrene.”

Cyrene’s gaze lingered for a second on the skin beneath his eyes. Not a single dark circle had formed.

‘What a ridiculous constitution,’ she marveled silently before turning on her heel toward the kitchen. “Wait a moment, breakfast will be ready soon.”

The heavy thud of the refrigerator door opening and closing was followed by the sharp, rhythmic click of the gas stove igniting. Before long, the rich, savory aroma of sizzling scallion oil wafted out from the kitchen, filling the apartment. Cyrene emerged carrying a wooden tray. Two large bowls of steaming noodles were placed carefully on the dining table, garnished with bright green scallions and vibrant red shreds of ham. It looked incredibly appetizing.

“Eat something first. You only have the strength to work once you are full.” Cyrene pulled out a wooden chair and sat down, offering him a pair of chopsticks.

Phainon looked down at the steaming bowl of noodles placed in front of him, a momentary daze flickering across his stoic expression. He subconsciously moved to decline. “I am not hungry. With my physical fitness, I do not need—”

“Oh dear, I accidentally cooked way too much.”

Cyrene rested her chin on the palm of her hand and lightly tapped the ceramic rim of her bowl with her chopsticks. A mischievous light danced in her diamond-shaped pupils, and her tone carried a sweet, airy lilt that brooked absolutely no refusal. “Look, there are two whole bowls. How could a delicate girl like me finish them all by myself? It would be such a terrible waste to throw them away. That would be a complete sacrilege against food.”

Phainon opened his mouth, but the rest of his logical refusal died in his throat, completely blocked by her crooked logic.

Seeing Cyrene’s exaggerated expression that clearly read ‘it is a mortal sin if you do not eat this,’ he let out a quiet, helpless sigh and reached out to take the chopsticks from her hand.

“Alright. Thank you.”

The ensuing breakfast was peaceful. The quiet morning was punctuated only by the occasional sound of slurping noodles and the crisp clink of wooden chopsticks striking porcelain. Morning light spilled across the dining table, illuminating the steam rising from their bowls. This fleeting moment of mundane tranquility actually gave Phainon a long-lost, grounding sense of reality. A feeling simply known as life.

Breakfast over, Phainon skillfully gathered the empty dishes and walked toward the kitchen sink.

Cyrene did not attempt to stop this behavior. She knew he was seeking a sense of existence and purpose through simple labor. Instead, she walked over to the entryway, slipping on her shoes while calling out over her shoulder.

“Phainon, just leave the dishes there to soak. I plan to go to the Hongda Chemical Plant in the East District today. You stay home and continue familiarizing yourself with the information about this world. The computer password is six eights.”

As she spoke, she grabbed her light coat from the wooden rack and reached for the door handle.

The sound of running water from the kitchen stopped abruptly.

Phainon did not even bother to dry the water droplets clinging to his hands before he strode out of the kitchen. His tall, broad frame completely blocked the entryway. His brow was drawn into a tight furrow, and his tone dropped into a serious, commanding register.

“You are going to that chemical plant? According to the intelligence you gathered last night, there is a high probability that Abominations are entrenched within that sector. You currently possess no ability to protect yourself. What will you do if you encounter danger?”

Cyrene’s hands paused on her shoelaces. She looked up, blinking her large eyes, and tried to use a lighthearted, breezy tone to gloss over the tension.

“Um… it shouldn’t be that serious, right? Hasn’t the Special Anomaly Bureau already had the entire perimeter cordoned off for half a month? Even if there were monsters inside, they have probably been mostly cleared out by the official teams. I am just going to walk around the outer edge and scan it with my radar. I won’t go deep inside.” She offered a bright, reassuring smile. “Besides, my luck has always been pretty good. I shouldn’t be that unlucky, right?”

Phainon’s answer was categorical, leaving absolutely zero room for discussion. His piercing golden eyes stared intently down at Cyrene, looking at her as if she were a reckless child trying to poke a sleeping tiger.

“The danger of such creatures is entirely unpredictable. If you must go, fine. But I must accompany you.”

“But…” Cyrene stood up, scratching her pink hair in mild frustration. “Phainon, you have to realize that in this world, you are currently an undocumented person. Agents from the Special Anomaly Bureau are definitely still patrolling the nearby streets. If you are discovered, how are we going to explain your identity? What if they take you away to be sliced up for research?”

“Do not worry.” Phainon took a deliberate step forward, his voice carrying the calm, unshakable confidence of a man who had slaughtered gods. “As long as I do not wish to be seen, no one in this world can discover my tracks. Whether it is electronic surveillance or human sight.”

Seeing his absolute certainty, an expression that clearly stated this was not a problem in the slightest, Cyrene opened her mouth to argue, but ultimately could only sigh in defeat.

“Alright, since you have put it that way…”

She knew Phainon’s personality intimately. When it came to matters involving her personal safety, this man was as stubborn as a boulder. And thinking carefully about it, with her current, fragile physical condition, if she really did encounter some sudden, lethal emergency, she would indeed be entirely helpless on her own.

“Then I will be in your care, Lord Phainon.” Cyrene tilted her head, flashing him a brilliant, winning smile. “But it is a deal, okay? If we run into people from the Bureau, you must hide well. Do not do anything impulsive.”

“I understand.” Phainon nodded, the hard lines of his expression softening just a fraction.

With their itinerary confirmed, Cyrene took advantage of the brief gap while Phainon went to change his clothes to summon the System interface once more. Looking at the glowing blue values displayed across the holographic panel, she could not help but sigh heavily in her mind.

[Ability Remembrance: 200 Memory Traces per attempt]

Ever since the last time she had successfully fished Phainon out of the gacha pool, these prices had absolutely skyrocketed.

‘Is this the so-called inflation? System, you are way too greedy.’

Cyrene stared sorrowfully at the glaring zero sitting next to her current Memory Traces balance. There were still so many of her companions waiting in the dark for her to awaken them, and so many crucial abilities waiting to be unlocked. The amount of Memory Traces required to achieve all of that was simply an astronomical figure.

If she did not take some calculated risks at that abandoned chemical plant and just relied on passively farming traces by posting urban legends online, when on earth would she ever save up enough resources for her next pull?

‘When will I finally have enough power to protect myself, so I do not have to let Phainon stand in front of me every single time?’She shook her head sharply, tossing those anxious, heavy thoughts out of her mind.’Forget it, do not overthink it. We will cross that bridge when we come to it.’

Cyrene took a deep breath, her eyes regaining their usual playful spark, and pushed open the front door.

“Let’s go!”