Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking

A baby was crying.

It was a sound that would usually set one's nerves on edge, yet somehow...

Stelle couldn't bring herself to feel annoyed as she watched the mother, her face streaked with tears, gently nuzzle the child's cheek.

Silently, she withdrew her hand and averted her gaze.

Even though she didn't want to admit it, she had ultimately chosen to save them.

No matter how heavy her heart felt, she couldn't say that this choice was necessarily a good thing for the child.

Born into this wretched, cruel world as a refugee, the child was destined to face hardships and suffering.

But...

At least the child had a mother who loved her deeply.

Compared to someone like Stelle, who had no idea where she came from or where she was going, no family ties to ground her—

That child still had the right to love and to be loved.

Besides—

If Venti were here, she would have made the same choice.

Whispering this thought to herself, Stelle felt her burden lighten ever so slightly.

Himeko, who had been watching her, responded with a graceful and approving smile.

This small gesture stirred a little commotion among the nearby crowd, but no one dared to offend Himeko, who radiated an air of regal elegance. She looked every bit like a high-ranking figure from a royal court.

A few who were more observant recognized the insignia she wore—one denoting her as a key official of the Borderlands Commerce Guild.

Naturally, no one would dare provoke someone of such status. Yet many gazed at her with hopeful eyes, silently wishing these benevolent individuals might extend their kindness further.

Unfortunately for them, the one handling external matters was Dan Heng.

His aloof demeanor was intimidating, to say the least. Anyone he addressed immediately stood to attention, their backs straight as a board.

"Pardon me," Dan Heng began coldly, his voice sharp and precise. "We are adventurers traveling from Getlow, escorting this shipment of supplies to the western battlefront. Judging by your appearance, you must have fled from the frontline towns. Has the Demon Lord's army already breached the border defenses?"

His piercing voice carried a subtle, oppressive weight, making the questioned individual shrink back. Upon noticing the silver-tier adventurer's badge hanging around Dan Heng's neck, the man gulped nervously, terrified that a single misstep in his answer might cost him his head.

"H-hey, Dan Heng," March 7th interjected, waving her hands in alarm. "Don't scare him like that! You can't just throw out a long string of questions right away!"

She turned to the frightened man with a warm smile. "It's okay, don't be scared. My companion might seem a bit hard to approach, but he doesn't mean any harm!"

"Y-yes, of course..." the man stammered. After gathering his thoughts, he quickly replied, "We fled from Emerald City. I'm not sure if Sunset City has fallen, but people in town were saying it's only a matter of time before the western defenses collapse. Even the city lord abandoned the place and ran. There was no help coming, no food left, so we had no choice but to escape."

"The city lord fled?"

"Yes... The pressure on the western front was immense. Sometimes monsters would even slip into the city and kill people. Everyone was terrified. The city lord tried sending knights several times to capture the culprits, but they never succeeded. Maybe he feared being assassinated himself, so he decided to retreat to safer lands. But..."

Recalling something horrifying, the man's face turned pale, and he began trembling.

"When we passed through a mass grave earlier, someone swore they saw the dead wandering about... as undead."

"That's..."

March 7th hesitated, unsure whether to call the city lord unlucky or deserving of his fate.

"Abandoning his people is simply reaping what he sowed," Mimiya said, her tone dripping with disdain.

The man forced a strained smile but didn't refute her, his eyes betraying his agreement.

"So, should we still head to Emerald City?"

March 7th voiced her dilemma. "The delivery contract includes supplies for them. What if we arrive and find nothing but an empty shell of a city?"

Her words made the eyes of the refugees light up. Many had gone days without proper food. Even a small portion of the supplies—enough for a single meal, or even half a meal—might give them the strength to reach the next town.

"Of course, we're going," Himeko interjected, her voice calm yet firm. Both Dan Heng and March 7th turned to her, their gazes meeting hers.

"Let's not forget who we are and the responsibilities we bear," Himeko reminded them, her tone a careful balance of caution and compassion.

"Oh, right... Makes sense," March 7th said, nodding quickly. "Whether the city is still standing or not, we should at least check. If someone is still holding the city, and we fail to deliver the supplies they need, that would be way too tragic."

As someone brimming with empathy, March 7th quickly aligned herself with Himeko's suggestion. Besides, on the train, she had always been Himeko's most loyal admirer, never one to contradict her.

Dan Heng, meanwhile, glanced at the supply carts and stepped closer to Himeko, speaking in a low voice.

"Should we set aside some of the supplies for the refugees?"

"Take a small portion from the allocation meant for Emerald City and leave it for them," Himeko replied.

While this decision wasn't entirely fair to those defending the city, leaving the refugees to flood nearby towns would likely cause even greater chaos.

By reserving enough for Emerald City's needs and leaving the refugees with two meals' worth of supplies, Himeko struck a balance.

It was one of the special discretionary powers she had been granted as a member of the Commerce Guild.

Perhaps moved by the group's generosity, the refugees began lowering their guards. They even started helping each other with small tasks while the adventurers rested.

The man who had been questioned earlier soon approached again.

"Honorable adventurers, you mentioned heading to the frontlines, didn't you?"

"What do you want?" Mimiya's brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. "Let me be clear—during times like these, we don't deliver letters or run errands."

Having encountered countless opportunists in her adventures, Mimiya had little patience for those trying to exploit her kindness. Each had their own sob story, but none could pay a single coin in compensation.

While she didn't mind small losses, she refused to be taken for a fool.

"Ahaha, no, no, I wouldn't dream of troubling you with something like that," the freckled, brown-haired man said, scratching his head awkwardly.

"I just wanted to offer some advice... If possible, you should head back after visiting Emerald City. Avoid going deeper into the western battlefront."

"Why? Aren't you worried about the kingdom's defenses falling and more people dying?" Mimiya asked, her dissatisfaction evident.

"Of course, I'm afraid..."

When Mimiya pointed this out, the freckled young man lowered his head in dejection.

"But honestly, if the frontlines hadn't been breached, there wouldn't be so many monsters from the Demon Lord's army flooding into this region, would there?"

He was, of course, referring to the group of monsters that had attacked the refugee caravan earlier. The fact that they retreated upon spotting the supply carts—leaving goblins behind as rearguards—was telling.

Whether or not those monsters were skilled in tactical maneuvers, they were clearly not mindless killing machines.

Facing such enemies, given the tenuous state of the western front, it was only a matter of time before it was overrun.

Unless, of course, a legendary team of heroes emerged to save the day.

"Hah. Thanks for your concern, but retreating is not an option for us," Mimiya replied, crossing her arms with resolute certainty.

"Why not? You—and the other adults—are silver-tier adventurers. No, you're probably even higher, at least seasoned experts. No matter where you go, you'd do well enough to survive, wouldn't you?"

The freckled man glanced at her in surprise. Though his words were slightly presumptuous, he truly didn't want to see these extraordinary adventurers throw their lives away in a hopeless battle.

Unlike those so-called adventurers who were little more than hooligans, this group genuinely worked to help and save others. Preserving their strength might give them a better chance to find an opening to fight back later—at least, they could outlast most.

Mimiya simply snorted in response.

"There's no particular reason. But if I must give you one—"

She glanced over her shoulder at the others, who were discussing their next steps.

"Have you ever seen a hero turn back in the face of adversity?"

"A… a hero!?"

The freckled man's exclamation drew several curious looks.

"Shh. Keep it down. That's just my personal view of them," Mimiya said, frowning. "Although, to be fair, they do deserve to be called that—"

She cut herself off by kicking the young man lightly in the shin. He yelped in pain, hopping on one foot, but quickly clamped his mouth shut.

"So... you and the others are here to save the kingdom? To save the world?"

Chastened by his earlier outburst, the young man lowered his voice significantly. Had Mimiya not had the keen ears of a forest dweller, she might have missed his words altogether.

"You can think of it that way... But, as I said, they're not doing this to carve their names into history. Their reasons are far grander, far purer. Not that I know exactly what they are. After all—"

Mimiya trailed off mid-sentence, her expression shifting as if she had just realized something. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she gestured for him to leave.

"Why am I even telling you this? Hurry up, take your rations, and go."

Though the young man felt a twinge of disappointment and an urge to uncover the untold truth, he wisely chose to leave. Knowing too much would only shorten the lives of people like him.

As he walked away, Mimiya turned her gaze to Venti, who had just disembarked from one of the wagons. Her expression softened with a touch of concern.

"Why did you come down?"

"If I stayed asleep any longer, you'd have mistaken me for a roadside pebble and forgotten me altogether," Venti replied with a yawn. His bleary eyes seemed unfocused, yet they were fixed on the horizon.

"Besides, as much as I love rainy days for napping, having too much background noise is... distracting."

Venti spoke casually, but the meaning behind his words was clear. He was suppressing a chaotic storm of energy within himself—a vortex as tangled and irritable as a ball of yarn clawed by a cat. And the occasional malicious stares directed at him weren't helping.

Mimiya immediately picked up on his underlying meaning, her demeanor growing serious.

"Is it them?"

She cast a sharp glance toward the refugee camp. The survivors had hastily erected makeshift tents and lit small, flickering fires to keep warm.

However, some among them occasionally cast furtive glances in their direction. Not all of those looks held gratitude.

Refugees were rarely seen in a favorable light, especially when supply carts were involved. The desperate desire to survive made thoughts of robbery all too tempting. If it came to that—

Mimiya's hand instinctively tightened around her bow, a shadow of grim determination crossing her face.

"No. It's the group that fled earlier," Venti said calmly. "Though I'm not sure if they're after the supply carts or chasing some other rumors they might've caught wind of."

He patted Mimiya's shoulder lightly, as if to reassure her.

"Still, to be cautious, we can't let them leave."

Before Mimiya could decipher his intent, Venti flicked a fallen leaf off her shoulder and blew on it gently.

A soft breeze carried the leaf away, setting it to dance and twirl through the air. To the untrained eye, nothing seemed amiss.

But Mimiya could sense the migration of wind spirits, as if they were joyfully rushing toward their prey.

Deep within the forest, where visibility was poor, the leaves above began to rustle. A gnoll scout instinctively looked up, his nose twitching at the wind brushing against his face. Yet, apart from the forest breeze, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"?"

He sniffed the air again but detected no foreign scent. Satisfied, he resumed his vigil over the adventurers from afar.

But something strange was happening.

His vision seemed to split into two.

It was a bizarre sensation—his eyes, though open, felt as though an invisible hand had separated their perspectives.

The sound of flesh slicing apart was nearly inaudible. Only the intangible breeze continued to glide forward, passing over the scout's comrades.

The gnoll's body collapsed with a soft thud, blood staining the tree trunks as his lifeless corpse hit the ground. Not a single alarm was raised.

By the time the wind spirits swept through the enemy camp like a tranquil evening gale, the Headless Rider—a knight clad in armor—noticed something was amiss.

His rowdy subordinates, who had been squabbling over scraps of food, had gone eerily silent.

The camp seemed frozen in time, every movement suspended as if painted onto a canvas.

Then—

Plop.

Piece by piece, flesh slid off their bones. Limbs, organs, and finally the skeletons themselves fell to the ground in a grotesque disassembly.

The wolves didn't even manage a single howl of warning before collapsing, their bodies stripped of all muscle and tissue until only desiccated skeletons remained.

"W-what... is this!?"

Even the Headless Rider—despite having faced death countless times—felt an overwhelming sense of dread.

And then he remembered.

The whispered legends he'd heard near the border: the tales of the Fairy Queen.

The young royal who had once summoned a tornado so powerful it uprooted an entire fortress filled with lesser demons. Who had unearthed and annihilated a horde of earth-devouring worms from a hellish portal.

It couldn't be... Could it?

Why would someone so powerful, someone who could rival even the Demon General, appear in a place like this?

As realization dawned, the flickering flames of his soul felt as if they were about to extinguish.

"No! Stay back!"

He cradled his helmet close to his chest, like a frightened child shielding a candle from the night wind.

But no matter how tightly he clutched it, a tiny gap remained.

The wind found its way through.

The Headless Rider's soul flame flickered one last time before vanishing entirely.

His armor fell apart with a clatter, and his skeletal steed gave a silent cry before crumbling to dust.

Back at the camp, Venti smacked his lips and wandered over to March 7th to ask for a drink of iced water.

"I wasn't trying to flaunt my authority or anything," he said lazily. "Just an instinctive response. Breathing, really."

After all, if someone dared to act out so blatantly, they should be prepared for the wind to give them a proper "scolding."

---

Thank you for reading this chapter!

Wise-Senpai leads the way, sharing stories that inspire and connect us all. Your support is like the encouragement of a loyal companion, pushing this journey forward and lighting the path ahead.

If you'd like to support Wise-Senpai, you can visit:

[patreon.com/WiseTL].

Every contribution strengthens our resolve, paving the way for the stories yet to come!

Let's continue to explore these worlds together!

-Mash Kyrielight 💜