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ArabicHonkai Star Rail: Summoning the Chrysos Heirs — Chapter 41
Chapter 41: Replicas
The air warped violently under the oppressive heat, tearing apart with a sharp, explosive hiss.
A crimson scar of a blade, burning like the final streaks of dusk across a dying horizon, cleaved through the suffocating gloom of the forest.
In the next breath, the towering dark green monstrosity froze. Its massive, hulking frame slid sickeningly along a perfectly smooth waistline, crashing heavy and dead into the blanket of rotting leaves below.
No blood spilled from the ruin.
Along the mirror-smooth incision, dark red sparks crackled and hissed. The sheer, overwhelming temperature had instantly carbonized the flesh, leaving nothing behind but the pungent, choking stench of burnt ash clinging to the night air.
The crimson glow slowly receded, illuminating Phainon’s solitary figure.
He held the greatsword Morning Invader loosely in one hand. Liquid flames danced along its heavy edge, casting a warm, flickering light against his impossibly calm features.
Lowering his eyes, Phainon swept his gaze over the lifeless husk at his boots without a single ripple of emotion, as though he had merely brushed a speck of dust from his coat.
“Not this one.”
He murmured the words into the dark. The soles of his boots crushed dry branches into powder as his silhouette blurred into a fleeting afterimage, plunging deeper into the suffocating density of the woods.
The wind screamed past his ears.
Barely a handful of seconds slipped by before the thick canopy to his left violently ruptured.
A foul, rotting gale slammed into his face. From the splintering timber, a second beast roared into the open, identical in every grotesque detail to the last. Its jagged claws, coated in a thick layer of hardened bone, shredded the air as it dove directly for Phainon’s throat with crushing momentum.
Faced with the sudden ambush, Phainon did not so much as blink.
He tapped the toe of his boot lightly against the soil, his body drifting backward like a fallen leaf caught in a sudden updraft. He evaded the fatal strike by a hair’s breadth.
In the fraction of a second they crossed paths, Phainon rotated his wrist.
The massive weight of Morning Invader moved as effortlessly as a willow branch in his grip.
A horizontal sweep.
A brilliant arc of golden-red fire sheared straight through the creature’s abdomen.
A dull, sickening thud echoed through the trees as the beast was bisected mid-pounce. Carried by sheer inertia, the two severed halves smashed through a pair of thick pine trunks before finally crashing to a halt in the dirt.
Phainon paused his advance. He stared down at the twitching remains, the faintest hint of a raised brow breaking his stoic facade.
“Such a pathetic level of obstruction…”
He shifted his gaze thoughtfully toward the pitch-black depths of the forest, where a far more intense, erratic pulse of energy was bleeding into the atmosphere.
“It seems the core entity is growing desperate. It cannot be far now.”
Retracting his focus, Phainon did not immediately resume his hunt. Instead, he slowly turned his head, letting his eyes drift toward an entirely unremarkable patch of brush to his rear right.
The night breeze swept through the leaves, swaying the branches in a perfectly natural rhythm. It looked completely undisturbed.
Phainon stared at the foliage with an expression carved from marble. His voice rang out, measured and entirely devoid of anger.
“Trailing me this entire way must be exhausting. Step out and catch your breath.”
The thicket offered only silence, broken by the intermittent, rhythmic chirping of hidden insects.
“Refusing the invitation?”
Phainon offered a dry, chilling sneer. The muscles beneath his right sleeve pulled taut.
The blazing greatsword left his grip. It transformed into a blinding golden meteor, dragging a suffocating wave of rolling heat behind it as it impaled the dead center of the bushes.
A violent hiss erupted.
There was no heavy thud of steel biting into flesh, only the furious, screaming sound of water droplets striking boiling oil.
A massive plume of white steam exploded outward, instantly curling and withering the surrounding vegetation into dead husks.
A disheveled figure stumbled frantically out of the scalding vapor.
It bore the exact likeness of Shen Rui.
Yet its current state was deeply unnatural. The entire left side of its body resembled a melting wax sculpture, continuously weeping streams of clear liquid that evaporated rapidly under the residual heat of the strike.
This fluid imitation of the captain glanced down at the greatsword embedded diagonally in the earth, still radiating a terrifying thermal distortion, before lifting its head. A smooth slit opened across its featureless, watery face, but no sound emerged.
Phainon tilted his head, studying the flowing puppet without a trace of surprise in his eyes. His tone remained perfectly level.
“I am well aware you are not alone. Drop the act and summon your companions.”
Hearing the command, the liquid replica seemed to freeze in place. A startlingly human expression of helpless resignation rippled across its watery features, as though releasing a silent sigh.
Then, the entire construct collapsed, losing its structural integrity and splashing into the dirt as a mundane puddle of water, quickly seeping into the soil until nothing remained.
Rustle. Rustle. Rustle.
Barely a moment passed before the steady, synchronized crunch of combat boots echoed from the shadows of the tree line.
Four distinct figures pushed through the hanging branches, stepping into the clearing to face Phainon. Two men, two women.
The young man leading the formation kept his hands buried deep in the pockets of his tactical pants. Even standing in a woodland clearing drenched in the metallic stench of scorched blood, he maintained a deeply lazy, sleep-deprived posture.
His iconic, heavy-lidded phoenix eyes drooped as if he might doze off standing up, yet the gaze beneath those lashes was as piercing as a hawk’s, locking onto Phainon with absolute precision.
Shen Rui came to a halt. He swept his eyes over Phainon’s attire, then let his gaze linger on the burning greatsword still lodged in the earth. He spoke with a slow, deliberate drawl.
“Special Anomaly Investigation Bureau, Five Elements Hunting Squad. I am the captain, Shen Rui. Care to state your name, unregistered ability user?”
“Phainon.”
The answer was painfully concise, delivered with a gentle, unbothered cadence.
“Phainon…”
Shen Rui chewed on the syllables, his mind visibly turning as he ran the name through his mental archives, coming up entirely empty.
He tipped his chin upward, gesturing lazily toward the bisected monster rotting on the forest floor.
“So, Mr. Phainon. Skipping sleep to make this kind of racket out in the middle of nowhere. What exactly is the agenda here?”
“The answer is right in front of you.”
Phainon spread his hands, his expression an unreadable calm.
“Exterminating pests.”
As the final word left his lips, he casually waved his right hand toward the tree line.
The Morning Invader, still buried in the distant soil, violently shuddered. In a blinding flash, the heavy steel disintegrated into a storm of golden light particles.
Like a swarm of fireflies called back to their nest, the glowing motes carved gorgeous, sweeping trails through the dark, converging instantly upon Phainon’s open palm.
The light condensed, hardening back into the ancient, brutal weight of the greatsword.
Witnessing a technique that completely defied their tactical expectations, the pupils of the three squad members standing behind Shen Rui shrank in alarm.
One of the larger men instinctively dropped into a defensive combat stance, his heavy muscles coiling tight.
Before they could process the display, Phainon had already turned his back to the group, his dark robes snapping sharply in the rising wind.
“I will handle the burdens your team is unequipped to manage. Provided you do not interfere with my hunt, we have no reason to cross blades.”
His voice drifted back to them on the breeze, carrying an absolute, unquestionable authority.
“Huh? Unequipped to manage?”
Hearing the casual dismissal, the burly operative bristled with immediate offense. Shi Lei took an aggressive step forward, jabbing a thick finger toward the severed corpse.
“It’s just a bottom-tier Abomination! The captain could wipe out fragile trash like this without breaking a sweat—”
“Shi Lei. Shut your mouth.”
Shen Rui spoke without raising his voice. The lazy, quiet command hit the burly man like a physical blow. Shi Lei instantly clamped his jaw shut, looking like a duck grabbed by the throat, and sheepishly stepped back into formation.
Ignoring his subordinate’s wounded pride, Shen Rui stepped past the group and crouched beside the ruined monster.
His slender fingers, wrapped in reinforced tactical gloves, lightly traced the edge of the blackened, charred incision.
“A clean, single-strike execution. Complete carbonization of the wound. Zero blood loss…”
Shen Rui muttered, his eyes narrowing as a dangerous, razor-sharp focus pierced through his sleepy demeanor.
He stood up, casually brushing the ash from his gloves, and fixed his stare on Phainon’s retreating back.
“Mr. Phainon. My squad has already eliminated three Abominations matching this exact physical profile tonight.”
Phainon stopped his advance. He turned his head slightly, offering silent permission to continue.
Shen Rui fished a lollipop from his tactical pouch, stripped the wrapper with one hand, and popped it into his mouth. He spoke around the candy, his words slightly muffled but heavy with implication.
“Judging by the trail of destruction we followed to get here, I am guessing your body count is just as high.”
“Based on our operational history, even when pack-hunting Abominations share a species, their internal energy signatures always carry subtle variations. Just like leaves on a tree, no two are ever truly identical.”
Shen Rui paused. He pulled the lollipop from his lips and pointed the stick directly at the corpse, his lazy drawl vanishing into cold professionalism.
“But this thing breaks the rule. Their energy signatures are completely identical. Down to the last decimal.”
He tilted his head, his hawk-like gaze trying to dissect the enigmatic swordsman standing before him.
“Exactly like replicas stamped from the very same mold. Is this impossible anomaly the reason you decided we were unequipped to handle it?”