Star Rail： Chant of the Terminal Paradise

Wangshu Star, Schoolhouse.

Sunlight filtered through newly pasted paper windows, dappling the packed-earth floor. On the playground, Karun hacked and slashed at a straw dummy, wooden sword movements mimicking those taught by Estelle. Sweat beaded on his forehead, face tight with concentration. He lunged dramatically, shouting, "Knights, charge!" The wooden sword thumped the dummy's chest, drawing laughter mixed with envy from watching children. Karun jutted his chin out proudly, his eyes alight with the dream of knighthood.

Inside the classroom, Toby stood on tiptoe, struggling to pin his hand-drawn star chart to the wall. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, betraying another sleepless night. Alongside Estelle's standard stellar rails, the chart was dense with Toby's own meticulous markings and cryptic symbols. He pointed to a spot marking the twin moons' convergence, whispering to Lena beside him, "See, Sister Luna's song line 'Twin moons set, tides wash over the shore'... it echoes the Stellar Chronology's 'When twin moons fall, starlight awakens,' but the ending's different..."

Lena nodded vaguely, her attention focused on a freshly picked *Stellaron Lily, dewdrops clinging to its petals. She examined it carefully, mimicking Doctor Kava. "Petals intact, veins clear... best potency. Sister Luna should look well today."

Luna sat under the old locust tree by the window, her simple lyre resting on her lap. She wasn't playing, her hands instead resting gently on her slightly rounded belly. Beneath her fingertips, she felt a warm, vibrant pulse – a small star slumbering within her. This warmth brought comfort, yet deepened her longing and worry. She gazed towards the village entrance, shielded by Estelle's Stellar Mirror Barrier, glowing with a soft, protective light.

Mr. Estelle... where are you now? Are you safe? Luna took a deep breath, pushing down the rising anxiety. Her fingers brushed the lyre strings, and a soothing melody flowed out, calming the children in the schoolhouse and herself.

Vale of Sighs, Starship Resplendent – Medical Bay

The cold metal walls seemed to leech the last warmth from Estelle. He slid down to sit, back against the medbay bulkhead. It wasn't the wounds from battling Kay – those physical and energy drains were far from critical for the Grandmaster of the Knights of Beauty. The true burden lay deeper, rooted in the silent battle waged on his soul.

Resisting that vast, cold, forcibly intervening "Impartial" power... that was what had nearly hollowed him out.

Forcibly manifesting the Stellar Oath Sanctuary, maintaining that isolated haven against a pressure akin to the universe's own will, even for mere moments, exacted a cost beyond ordinary combat.

It felt like trying to prop up collapsing heavens with a fragile reed. Every tremor of the sanctuary's barrier felt like a direct blow to his soul's core.

Now, the flow of Beauty's power within him was a parched riverbed, only thin, intermittent trickles remaining. A profound, bone-deep weakness emanated from his very core. His muscles ached with the subtle groan of overstretched fibers. His temples throbbed, dark spots flickering at the edge of his vision from sheer exhaustion.

He lifted a hand, fingers trembling not from fear, but from pure, overwhelming fatigue. Was this... the price of facing a Pathstrider's power? Even a mere projection of its will held enough force to shatter stars. He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. The coppery tang of the Vale seemed to linger, but stronger was the image of Kay's final, frozen amethyst form.

Since the Aeon Idrilla vanished, Estelle had keenly felt his own power diminish.

"Idrilla..."

A wave of indescribable sorrow mixed with crushing weariness pulled him into memory's vortex.

Crackling campfire light danced on young knights' eager faces. The old Grandmaster, silver beard askew, choked on cheap ale, sending everyone into roaring laughter.

Kay sat beside Estelle, his smile then bright with youthful vigor, shoulders broad enough to carry the sky itself. He secretly slid his own plate of sizzling, perfectly seared starbeast steak to a starving, training-wrecked Estelle. "Eat quick," he whispered, "The old man's eyesight's shot. He won't notice!"

Memory shifted: a makeshift camp reeking of blood and pyre smoke after a brutal fight. Estelle's arm burned where Antimatter Legion energy had grazed it. Kay knelt silently beside him, using a damp cloth to carefully clean the charred wound. Kay's hands were steady, his touch unexpectedly gentle compared to his battlefield fury, though sweat beaded his brow as if he felt the pain. "Hang tough," his voice was rough. "Don't lead the charge next time. You ain't got the hide for it.

And Argenti – the guy who'd stand ramrod straight to recite the full grace over a rock-hard ration bar. During one respite, he clutched his "sacred" bread, intoning, "Beauty's light, purifying the cosmos..."

Just as his voice hit its peak and his arm lifted in habitual offering—

Kay, standing beside and slightly behind him, moved like a shadow. He swapped Argenti's "sacred" loaf with another baked stone-round and treacherously smooth.

"...bestowed upon us..." Argenti remained oblivious, arm reaching its apex—

"Thunk!"

The round loaf slid perfectly from his grasp, smacking his polished silver boot toe and bouncing off!

Argenti froze mid-pose, his pious expression shattering into utter, blank confusion.

Kay had already ducked behind Estelle, shoulders shaking like leaves in a gale, face crimson, only his eyes visible – brimming with mischief.

That Kay was a dependable brother, a stalwart comrade-in-arms, someone who sparked laughter amidst crushing duty.

What... what twisted the resolute, broad-shouldered Kay down the path of Imaginary corruption, into the abyss of slaughtering innocents, until he became that cold, mad amethyst statue?

Estelle's gaze drifted unconsciously to the knightly insignia on his chest. Its worn edges, the familiar crossed swords and rose. He suddenly recalled the mural beneath Wangshu's altar that had shaken him to his core.

Elara, Ryan... In the long years of Kay's fall, during Estelle's own struggle to hold the Knights together, these core leaders had vanished without a trace.

Thick mist shrouded not only Kay's descent and the "new god" secret, but also the fate of Ryan and Elara. The Order's fragmentation seemed far more complex, far darker, than Estelle had known.

He drew a sharp breath. The cold air stung his lungs, bringing a sliver of clarity. Past warmth was memory; the present fog demanded piercing. Kay's shard, however cold and painful, was the key to truth.

Lykai lay on the nearby medbed. Gel covered the wound on his flank, but internal trauma and Imaginary Decay required rest. He slept fitfully, brow furrowed, locked in some unseen struggle.

Estelle refocused on the insignia. A spark of unwavering resolve kindled in his weary eyes. He raised a hand, the tip of his finger gathering the last stable thread of Beauty's power. Like a precise probe, it touched the insignia's core – the amethyst crystal shard holding Kay's madness and secrets.

A frigid torrent of fragmented images and distorted emotions instantly engulfed him...

The scene blurred, seen through thick, frosted glass.

A derelict starship interior, rust and condensation everywhere.

A figure stood with its back to Kay's perspective. Tall, clad in streamlined, angular dark grey armor, joints pulsing with cerulean energy. Most striking was the head – not a helmet, but a silver-white metal mask encasing the skull, complex data streams flickering across it.

Where eyes should be: two cold, emotionless blue light bars.

It didn't speak. It merely tilted its head slightly. The blue lights swept over Kay's direction with mechanical indifference. Kay's memory radiated wariness, a sliver of fear, and... a twisted resolve born of dangerous agreement.

The scene shifted, colors leaching away like faded paint. A bird's-eye view. Wangshu's familiar altar (but older, cruder) lay below.

Five figures stood shoulder-to-shoulder on its unfinished edge. Estelle instantly recognized Kay, Ryan, and Elara. The other two wore non-knightly, silver-grey robes adorned with strange spiral mirror sigils – the Mirror Holders from the mural.

Their faces were indistinct, veiled in flowing quicksilver. They seemed deep in heated debate.

Ryan pointed downwards beneath the altar. Elara unfurled a glowing star chart. Kay gripped his knightly sword. The two Mirror Holders formed complex hand seals, both pointing towards the same spot – deep under the altar's heart.

A heavy, potent energy thrummed from below.

The scene flickered. Darkness. An underground cavern. A massive black box, chains and sigils etched onto its surface, hovered at the center, writhing with unsettling crimson light.

Another shift. The most chaotic, bloody, and soul-shocking fragment.

Still likely beneath Wangshu, post-sealing? Or during? The scene shattered.

Kay, Ryan, Elara stood back-to-back, weapons bloodied, faces a mix of fury and shock. Ryan's right arm hung limp, movement sluggish. Elara was pale, blood trickling from her lip.

Opposing them: the two Mirror Holders! But now, their mystical robes were torn, revealing bodies lacerated by deep wounds. What flowed from them wasn't blood, but a shimmering, quicksilver liquid light!

One Mirror Holder was down, body crystallizing unnaturally. The other raged, conjuring a warped, cracked light-mirror in his hands. Chaotic beams refracted from it, lancing towards the knights!

No reason for the conflict was clear. Only the violent clash of energies and the screech of metal.

The view snapped close: The dying Mirror Holder collapsed onto damp soil. His flowing quicksilver blood mingled with the crimson lifeblood dripping from a grievous wound on Elara's arm beside him, seeping into the earth.

Then, on the very spot soaked by that mingled blood – tiny, starlit sprouts pushed through the soil. They grew, unfurled leaves at visible speed – unmistakably the primal form of the Stellaron Lily.

Nearby, the Stellaron's crimson light veins pulsed faintly, seeming to catalyze this grotesque birth. The final image: Elara's eyes wide with shock and pain, and the overwhelming surge in Kay's memory – terror mixed with a twisted, horrifying epiphany!

Estelle's eyes snapped open. Cold sweat coated his brow, his heart hammered against his ribs as if he'd just escaped suffocation. The medbay's sterile air bit his lungs, offering a sliver of clarity, but couldn't dispel the bone-deep chill from the memory shards.

Fragmented intel tangled like knots: That dangerous, non-human armored figure had contacted Kay.

Knights had collaborated with the mysterious Mirror Holders to seal Wangshu's Stellaron. But then, they'd turned on each other lethally. Mirror Holders dead. Elara gravely wounded.

And the Stellaron Lily... that sacred symbol of prophecy for the villagers... its origin was this grotesque, bloody fusion, born from Mirror Holder light-blood and Elara's lifeblood, catalyzed by the Stellaron's energy.

Kay's proclaimed "new god" Serene was inextricably linked to these secrets.

Why did the Knights and Mirror Holders turn? What role did that armored figure play? The fog was thicker than the Vale's toxic miasma.

"Find the source first..." Estelle murmured, his gaze returning to the sleeping Lykai.

Lykai needed rest; high-intensity pursuit was impossible. He needed intelligence. Sources beyond the Knights, perhaps even beyond the usual reach of Pathstrider influence.

He stood, activating the medbed's deep recovery protocol for Lykai. Then, he stepped out of the ship.

Vale of Sighs, Battlefield Periphery

Estelle didn't leave immediately. He found a surviving resistance contact. Facing these warriors, struggling in despair and freshly scarred by Kay's indiscriminate slaughter, Estelle didn't adopt the posture of a lofty knight.

He silently helped them recover their fallen comrades' bodies. With *Stellar Oath, he carved simple markers into the earth. He left behind a cache of efficient medical supplies and energy rations.

"Estelle. Knights of Beauty," he stated simply, offering no explanation for Kay's actions – only more pain and confusion. "May the departed rest. May the living endure." He raised a palm. Gentle silver-white light, like flowing moonlight, washed over several gravely wounded fighters. The Power of Beauty accelerated their healing, purging lingering traces of Imaginary Decay.

The resistance fighters watched, stunned. Initial wariness and hatred in their eyes gradually gave way to a complex mix of gratitude, confusion, and awe.

For the Antimatter Legion wreckage, Estelle was ruthless. Using the ship's scanners, he pinpointed residual energy nodes and potential data cores. With precise strikes of Stellar Oath, he obliterated them, reducing them to nothingness. No hesitation. It was purging a cosmic cancer.

Finished, he took one last look at Kay's amethyst effigy, standing sentinel at the battlefield's edge. Those empty sockets still seemed to scream madness and unresolved obsession.

Estelle's palm glowed faintly. As he touched the statue, it slowly dissolved into shimmering dust, carried away on the wind – his final farewell to his brother.

He turned and boarded the Resplendent. The engines growled, tearing through the Vale's crimson sky.

"Set course," Estelle commanded from the bridge, voice ironclad. "Destination: Space Station 'Herta'."

The ship leaped into the starry sea, leaving the Vale's sorrow and bloodshed behind, plunging into an even more intricate interstellar labyrinth. And on Estelle's chest, the insignia holding Kay's mad memories remained cold as the void.