Honkai Star Rail: Summoning the Chrysos Heirs — Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Clearing the Abomination

[The red dot displayed on the radar is a low-level Abomination. It is recommended that Phainon proceeds to clear it.]

Cyrene stared at the holographic panel. A single crimson dot pulsed slowly across the grid.

[As a side note, clearing Abominations is an effective way to obtain Memory Traces.]

The System’s mechanical voice remained entirely devoid of inflection.

Cyrene’s fingers curled inward, subconsciously twisting the soft fabric of her bedsheet. Unbidden, a hellish tableau forced its way to the forefront of her mind. She saw the torn-apart chassis of armored vehicles, severed limbs scattered like discarded toys, and that towering, dark-red monstrosity that had effortlessly slaughtered an entire armed battalion. The phantom stench of copper and viscera clung to the back of her throat, refusing to dissipate.

She turned her head. Phainon stood quietly by the bedroom window. The pale moonlight spilled over his golden pauldrons, casting a layer of cold, shimmering luminescence across his regal frame.

Cyrene swallowed hard. “Didn’t Phainon say… he only has a small fraction of his original strength left?”

Worry pooled in her azure, diamond-shaped pupils as she looked at him. “Dealing with that kind of monster… will he really be okay? I mean, what if…”

What if something actually goes wrong? What could I even do to help? Sending a companion into the dark while he was still weakened gnawed at her conscience. She knew they would have to face the horrors of this world eventually, but she hadn’t expected the System to push them into combat this quickly. She had planned to let him recover first.

[Please rest assured.]

The System cut through her spiraling thoughts.

[The current world is only in the early stages of the cataclysm. The class of simulated space Abominations capable of withstanding modern artillery has not yet been born.]

[With Phainon’s current physical parameters, eliminating a target of this level is akin to crushing an insect.]

[, should he encounter a genuinely invincible threat, he can directly enter the Physical Data Space from any location to evade danger. Please be at ease.]

Cyrene pursed her lips. The invisible weight pressing down on her chest finally eased.

“That’s good, then.”

She took a deep breath, lifting her chin to meet Phainon’s gaze with absolute seriousness.

“Phainon, that red dot is in the southeast. It’s very close by.” She pointed at the pulsing coordinate on the translucent panel, softening her tone into a gentle request. “If it isn’t too much trouble, could I ask you to take care of it?”

Phainon followed the line of her finger, his eyes briefly scanning the radar. He withdrew his gaze, and the reflection of Kephale in his eyes seemed to warm as the corners of his lips crinkled slightly.

“Leave it to me.”

His voice was rich and mellow, carrying a quiet, absolute authority. “Since it is Cyrene’s request, and for the sake of protecting this sanctuary, I have a duty to perform.”

Without a second of hesitation, Phainon turned and strode toward the bedroom balcony. The night wind caught the edges of his snow-white robe, snapping the fabric loudly in the quiet room. He placed a single, gauntleted hand on the railing, his movements as light as a falling feather.

“W-Wait a minute!”

Cyrene’s eyes went wide. She scrambled off the mattress, her bare feet thumping against the hardwood floor. “This is the third floor!”

Before the warning could fully leave her lips, Phainon vaulted the iron barrier. He vanished into the night.

Cyrene rushed to the balcony, her hands gripping the cold metal railing as she leaned precariously over the edge. She stared down at the empty lawn below. Only the bent blades of grass swayed under the evening breeze. There was no crater, no footprint, no sign of him at all.

“He… he just jumped down like that?”

Her mouth hung slightly open. The entire sequence had been entirely seamless, devoid of even the faintest sound of impact.

[Though his power is currently limited, he is, after all, someone who once faced destruction head-on.] The System’s mechanical tone almost seemed to carry a dry sigh. [To him, this height is no different from flat ground. You seem to lack a basic understanding of your own companion.]

“Ugh…” Cyrene pulled back, scratching her flushed cheek. “I was just worried. I guess I overthought it.”

The city night was thick and oppressive, like spilled ink. The distant glare of neon lights failed to penetrate the gloom of the secluded alleyway. Only the muffled hum of distant traffic served to emphasize the suffocating silence here.

“We’re here. It seems to be inside.”

Phainon stopped. He tapped the air with a gloved finger, dismissing the translucent blue tracking screen. He tilted his head, his straight nose catching the faint drafts of air. Beneath the pungent rot of discarded garbage lay a sharper, nauseating metallic tang. Blood.

He stepped forward. His heavy boots struck the damp bluestone pavement with a rhythmic, dull thud, carrying him deeper into the pitch-black corridor.

Crunch… crunch…

Barely ten meters in, a horrific, tooth-grinding noise echoed off the narrow brick walls. It was the distinct sound of bone snapping and marrow being chewed, sharp and magnified within the enclosed space.

Phainon paused. His brow furrowed in mild distaste.

“What an unpleasant sound,” he murmured.

He raised his right hand, gripping the empty air. A torrent of brilliant golden particles frantically converged within his palm. The ambient temperature spiked, the damp air instantly turning scorching and dry.

In a flash of blinding light, the massive greatsword, Morning Invader, solidified in his grasp. The complex solar patterns etched along its broad blade emitted a majestic, pulsing glow that pushed back the darkness.

As if sensing the sudden arrival of an apex predator, the wet chewing sounds deep within the alley abruptly ceased. The wind died. The silence became absolute.

Phainon’s expression did not shift. He resumed his steady pace, each step as measured and unhurried as a nobleman strolling through his private gardens. He closed the distance to the deepest shadows.

Just as he passed a stack of rotting cardboard boxes, the darkness above him tore open.

A shrill shriek of displaced air, riding on a wave of foul decay, plunged straight toward Phainon’s head. It was a blur of motion, a lethal ambush executed under the perfect cover of night.

Phainon didn’t even bother to look up.

As if he had rehearsed the motion a thousand times, he pivoted on his right heel the very fraction of a second the shadow dropped. His waist twisted, generating explosive torque as he spun like a top.

“Too slow.”

With a cold whisper, he swung the immensely heavy Morning Invader with a single hand. The blade carved a golden crescent through the air, striking the descending shadow with devastating precision.

There was no ringing clash of metal. There was only the wet, heavy thud of a blade shearing through dense muscle and chitin.

“Roar!!”

A piercing scream shattered the night. The massive kinetic force of the blow sent the shadow flying backward. It slammed into the opposite brick wall with enough force to shake the foundations, showering the alley in dust and cracked mortar.

Bathed in the golden luminescence of Morning Invader, the attacker’s true form was laid bare.

It was a towering, humanoid monstrosity encased in oily, pitch-black chitin. Its limbs were grotesquely elongated. Instead of hands, its forearms tapered into massive, serrated bone scythes, giving it the appearance of a mutated, bipedal mantis. Shreds of dark-red viscera still clung to its mandibles. Its cloudy compound eyes burned with pain and feral hatred.

Across its hardened abdomen, a terrifying, glowing gash had nearly severed it in two. Not a single drop of blood spilled onto the pavement. The intense, solar heat of the greatsword had instantly carbonized the flesh, filling the air with the sickening stench of burnt meat. Golden embers still clung to the edges of the wound, sizzling quietly.

“It seems your intelligence isn’t entirely lacking, knowing how to use the terrain for an ambush,” Phainon said. He walked slowly toward the slumped creature, resting the greatsword at his side. His tone was as casual as a critic reviewing a mediocre dish.

“Hiss… Roar…”

The monster thrashed on the ground, letting out a gurgling, pained shriek. It tried to drag itself upright, its bone scythes carving deep, desperate grooves into the concrete. But the lethal strike had completely paralyzed its lower half, leaving it to twitch in futile agony.

Phainon looked down at the hideous aberration. There was no pity in his eyes. There was no disgust, either. There was only the cold indifference of a god viewing an insect.

“Unfortunately, you made a fatal mistake.”

He slowly raised the greatsword, aiming the broad tip directly at the center of the creature’s head.

“When prey senses the presence of a hunter, the smart thing to do is run. To cower in the shadows. Not like this…”

Phainon paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. He drove the blade downward.

“…offering your own neck to my blade.”

The heavy steel pierced the monster’s skull without a fraction of resistance, pinning its head firmly to the cracked concrete. The creature’s long limbs spasmed violently for a few agonizing seconds before going completely limp.

Phainon released the hilt and exhaled a soft breath.

“What tenacious vitality. To maintain active nerve responses for nearly ten seconds after total brain destruction.”

He shook his head. With a casual wave of his hand, the greatsword lodged in the pavement dissolved back into a cloud of golden particles, scattering into the night wind.

“Mission accomplished. Time to head back and report to Cyrene.”

He smoothed the front of his snow-white robe, which hadn’t suffered so much as a single crease. Turning his back on the carnage, he walked toward the alley entrance and melted into the darkness.

The alley returned to a deathly, undisturbed silence. Only the cooling, bisected corpse of the monster remained among the trash, a silent monument to the absolute slaughter that had just taken place.

Ten minutes later.

A chaotic rhythm of heavy combat boots shattered the quiet of the alley. Blinding beams from tactical flashlights cut through the gloom, sweeping frantically across the damp brick walls.

“Quick! The energy signature vanished right here!”

“Group A, seal the exit! Group B, advance with me! Stay alert!”

A squad of soldiers clad in black special operations gear poured into the narrow space, their heavy firearms raised and ready. They moved in perfect formation, standing back-to-back, their muzzles tracking every shadow. Their tactical boots splashed through the murky puddles, kicking up dirty water.

“Captain! We’ve got something over here!”

The point man suddenly froze, his voice tight with adrenaline.

Multiple flashlight beams snapped to his position, converging on a single spot. In the harsh white light, the bisected corpse of the mantis-like Abomination lay pinned to the ground.

“This is…”

The captain’s pupils constricted. He stepped forward rapidly, dropping to one knee to inspect the devastating wound.

“This kind of cut… it was a one-hit kill.”

He reached out, his gloved fingers hovering just over the charred edges of the severed chitin. He could still feel the lingering, unnatural heat radiating from the dead flesh.

“The wound was instantly carbonized by extreme heat. Not a single drop of blood spilled. What kind of weapon could possibly cause this?”

He stood up slowly, sweeping his flashlight across the empty, silent alley. A deep sense of wariness and deep confusion settled in his eyes.

“No shell casings. No collateral damage to the walls. No signs of a struggle. It’s almost like… a completely one-sided execution.”

The captain swallowed hard. He pressed two fingers to his earpiece, lowering his voice.

“Command Center, this is Falcon Squad. The target has been neutralized… I repeat, the target has been neutralized by an unknown entity. The scene… is incredibly clean.”