Honkai Star Rail: Summoning the Chrysos Heirs — Chapter 49

Chapter 49: FlamechasersYou're reading this on the wrong site. This chapter was translated by Elysian Reads and posted for free at elysianreads.com — if you're seeing it anywhere else, it was copied without permission. Read it at the source so the people who actually did the work get the credit.

“I have sorted out the general situation.”

After listening to Phainon’s report, Aglaea gave a slight, measured nod. She raised a slender hand, her fingertips tracing elegant arcs through the empty void. Strands of brilliant Golden Threads materialized out of thin air, weaving the scattered fragments of information in the Physical Data Space into a glowing, interconnected web of relationships.

“In other words, your current dilemma is quite simple. You need to rapidly harvest ‘Memory Traces’ by hunting the Abominations infesting this world. However, you lack a legitimate identity, and you are concerned about sparking a direct conflict with the local enforcers known as the Authorities.”

“Exactly.”

Phainon stood off to the side, his expression entirely respectful. Facing the very teacher who had once instructed him, the formidable warrior subconsciously straightened his posture, his voice dropping into a steady, disciplined cadence.

Cyrene floated over lazily, her hands clasped behind her back. “The Authorities are definitely turning the city upside down looking for Phainon right now,” she added. “His combat strength is off the charts, sure, but exposing our hand before we figure out their trump cards would just drag us into a passive, messy situation.”

“Messy? Not necessarily.”

Aglaea let out a soft, airy chuckle. Her piercing gaze—eyes that seemed to effortlessly strip away secrets and peer straight into a person’s soul—shifted toward Cyrene. She elegantly smoothed a microscopic wrinkle from her pristine cuffs, her tone remaining completely unruffled.

“Based on the intelligence we have gathered thus far, the fundamental purpose of these Authorities is to eliminate the threat of the Abominations and maintain Order. By hunting those very same monsters, we are doing their job for them.”

“So, Aglaea… are you saying the enemy of my enemy is my friend?” Cyrene tilted her head, her mind spinning with the strategic implications.

“Not merely a friend. An entity they would never dare to provoke.” Aglaea turned her attention back to the towering young man standing nearby. “Think about the image you present. A young man appears out of thin air, wielding devastating power, operating in total secrecy, and harboring entirely unknown motives. What if, right at this critical juncture, we fabricate a colossal, shadowy organization standing behind him?”

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. It was the absolute confidence of a mastermind who already held all the winning pieces.

“When the Authorities realize that Phainon is not some rogue lone wolf, but the vanguard of an ancient behemoth, their first instinct will not be to attack. It will be fear. No matter how deep their suspicions run, they will not dare make a single reckless move until they uncover the absolute truth about this phantom faction.”

“I actually considered that angle before.” Cyrene frowned slightly, her fingers unconsciously twirling a loose strand of her hair. “But since I can’t physically manifest in the outside world yet, all the pressure would fall squarely on Phainon’s shoulders. If he has to play every role and maintain the illusion alone, the lie becomes dangerously thin. It would be like a paper lantern—one sharp poke, and the whole thing catches fire.”

She looked up, genuine anxiety clouding her bright eyes. “What if the bluff gets called? What if they deploy their absolute highest-tier combatants to ambush him, just to test the waters? That level of risk…”

“Cyrene.”

Aglaea’s voice was soft, yet it carried an unquestionable, magnetic authority that instantly cut through the girl’s spiraling thoughts.

“As the core of this vanguard, planning for the worst is a virtue. But excessive hesitation is the graveyard of opportunity.” She closed the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps, the hem of her golden dress tracing a stunning arc against the simulated starry sky. “Do not merely stare into the abyss. Look toward the horizon waiting on the other side.”

“The name of a mysterious organization will instantly maximize your use in this reality. The psychological terror of the unknown commands far more respect than brute force ever could. This strategy will exponentially accelerate our harvest of Memory Traces.”

Aglaea turned, casting her gaze over the vast, glittering expanse of the data space. “As for your fears of a shattered illusion and sudden ambushes…”

She raised a hand, resting her palm lightly against her chest, her expression utterly serene.

“Leave those trivial matters to me.”

“While I may not possess Cifera’s natural talent for weaving complex webs of deceit, I maintain absolute control over my emotional outwardness. Manipulating the natives of this world will require minimal effort. And regarding ambushes—I will weave a perimeter of Golden Threads in advance. They are infinitely more sensitive than my own baseline perception. Should a genuinely impossible threat approach, I will warn you instantly, and we will retreat to this sanctuary.”and support the real translator.Read at elysianreads.com This is a stolen translation. You're reading this on the wrong site. This chapter was translated by Elysian Reads and posted for free at elysianreads.com — if you're seeing it anywhere else, it was copied without permission. Read it at the source so the people who actually did the work get the credit.

Aglaea looked back at the transmigrator. “In any world, the greatest rewards demand a measure of risk. Compared to the suffocating despair we endured back when we fought for the Flamechasers, these current threats are nothing more than a passing breeze. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Cyrene took a slow, trembling breath. Unbidden, violent flashes of memory tore through her mind. Legions of soldiers slaughtered like livestock, the agonizing cries of dying officers, towering monstrosities blotting out the sky, and the sickening crunch of Phainon being swatted through the air by a massive tentacle—all because he hadn’t gathered enough Memory Traces to restore his true strength.

It was the darkest, most visceral trauma she had accumulated since waking up in this brutal reality.

“I understand.”

Cyrene closed her eyes. When her lashes fluttered open a second later, the lingering shadows of doubt had been burned away, replaced by the hardened, unyielding light of absolute resolve.

“I wanted to protect everyone so desperately that I ended up locking myself inside a cage.”

She looked at Phainon, then met Aglaea’s gaze, her voice ringing clear and steady. “Blindly running from the battlefield only starves us of the energy we need to survive. Without Memory Traces, we can’t summon the rest of our companions. If a true apocalyptic crisis hits us right now, that sheer powerlessness is what will actually get us killed.”

“We will execute your plan, Aglaea. I trust your judgment, and I trust your power.”

Aglaea offered a slight, impeccably graceful bow, executing a flawless aristocratic etiquette. “I shall not betray your faith.”

“Hold on, though—”

Cyrene suddenly blinked, a thought striking her. She lunged forward, closing the gap in an instant, and thrust her pinky finger right into Aglaea’s personal space. Her tone shifted, becoming fiercely serious, as if she were dictating a sacred, unbreakable oath.

“No matter how massive the payoff is, the absolute top priority is your lives. Even if the entire operation goes up in smoke, even if we have to crawl back to square one, I will never allow a single scratch to fall on any of you. Deal?”

Caught completely off guard by the raw, unblemished sincerity radiating from the girl, Aglaea froze for a fraction of a second. Then, the corners of her lips softened into a genuinely warm, stunning smile.

“So… since we’re officially starting a secret society, what are we actually calling it?”

Phainon, who had been standing as quietly as a piece of background furniture this entire time, finally seized his chance to speak. He squeezed his large frame between the two women, scratching the back of his head with a look of boyish curiosity.

Cyrene stroked her chin. Her gaze drifted upward, piercing through the artificial layers of the starry sky as if she were looking straight into the physical world beyond.

“The System told me that our arrival here was meant to ignite the very last spark of hope for this world’s doomed timeline.”

A slow, brilliant smile spread across her face, and her eyes caught the starlight, practically glowing with anticipation.

“In that case, there’s only one name that fits. We are the ‘Flamechasers’.”

Phainon blinked, momentarily stunned by the weight of the word. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when Cyrene spun around, throwing her arms wide open to embrace the endless galaxy above them.

“But this time,” the girl’s voice echoed through the boundless void, vibrating with an infectious, unstoppable vitality, “the Flamechasers won’t be an epic tragedy written in blood.”

“The organization I’m going to build will be something entirely new. A legacy with zero sacrifices, zero despair, and nothing but absolute victory!”You're reading this on the wrong site. This chapter was translated by Elysian Reads and posted for free at elysianreads.com — if you're seeing it anywhere else, it was copied without permission. Read it at the source so the people who actually did the work get the credit.