Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking

"So, why did everyone decide to become adventurers?"

With the halfling scout still unconscious and no actionable intelligence available, the group decided to set up camp at a safe distance from the cave.

As night fell, they gathered around a crackling campfire. Fina, perched on a stone, broke the silence with her curious question. Her bright eyes lingered on the Trailblazers, clearly eager to hear their stories.

"For me," she began, "it was because I turned fifteen and completed my coming-of-age ceremony. The church stopped covering my living expenses, so I became an adventurer to spread the Earth Mother's light and support the orphanage where I grew up."

Her earnestness set the tone, and Mimiya was the first to respond. "I was sent out by my clan. Unlike some of my kin, who leave home seeking new experiences or the thrill of adventure, I actually prefer staying in one place."

"A grown-up's errand, then?" Venti teased with a chuckle.

Mimiya sighed. "Pretty much. Staying home too long meant constant nagging—stuff like, 'You'll bankrupt us eating all the fruit.' So, I reluctantly agreed to leave. But after a while, I found that adventuring wasn't so bad. I stuck with it, and here I am."

"My reason's a bit more complicated," Zaryus said, his towering frame seeming even larger as he leaned forward.

"I came from a fertile land, rich with fish and game. It was one of the best places for lizardfolk to live. But in my youth, I was captivated by the outside world and joined a merchant caravan to see the continent."

"I returned home in middle age, only to find disaster waiting. A foreign invasive species of magical fish had devastated our swamps, consuming all the native fish. My people were starving, and traditional fishing methods couldn't keep up."

Zaryus paused, his expression darkening with regret.

"I used what I'd learned during my travels to create a solution. I built fish farms and introduced a rival species of magical fish to fight the invaders. Over time, the two species wore each other down, and my people could kill the weakened survivors easily. For this, the Dragon Matron named me a shaman of the tribe."

"Sounds like a happy ending, despite some hardship," March 7th said, resting her chin on her hand.

"It might seem that way," Zaryus admitted, his voice heavy. "But I overstepped. I was just a mortal, yet I dared to play the role of a god."

"I pitted creatures against each other for my tribe's benefit, delighting in the results. My hubris brought divine punishment upon us."

"One night, every fish in my farm died. New fish died mysteriously within days. The curse spread, and even my wife and children weren't spared."

"In a single month, I lost everything. Exiled by the tribe, stripped of my shaman's rank, and burdened by guilt, I became a drifter. Even the magic I once wielded as a shaman was revoked."

"...I'm so sorry," March 7th murmured, her earlier curiosity replaced with guilt. "I didn't mean to pry like that. I didn't think your story would be so tragic."

Zaryus shook his head. "It's all right. My sins are my burden to carry."

Stelle frowned. "Don't lizardfolk have gods? Couldn't your tribe seek divine help?"

"We had one, long ago," Zaryus explained. "Our ancestor, the Great Dragon, was slain by a catastrophe from the heavens. Its bloodline weakened over generations, and what remains of that proud lineage is… us."

"Our bodies are hunched, our once-mighty horns have withered, and even our wings have vanished. What little magic we retain is a faint echo of the Great Dragon's glory."

He gazed into the fire, his tone wistful.

"Still, there are rumors within the tribe—whispers that those who ascend to higher ranks of adventurers might gradually reclaim their draconic heritage."

"Do you believe it?" March 7th asked.

Zaryus smiled faintly. "It's a nice thought. Perhaps younger, more promising members of the tribe could chase that dream. As for me? I doubt I'll live to see such a miracle."

He picked up a branch and added it to the fire, the flames flickering in his eyes. "My only hope now is to aid my people from afar, to atone for my arrogance and lessen the curse I brought upon them."

March 7th sighed. "That's… a really heavy reason to become an adventurer."

"I didn't mean to dampen the mood," Zaryus said, lowering his head apologetically.

March 7th opened her mouth to respond but froze, unsure what to say.

Thankfully, Venti stepped in with a cheerful grin. "Well, how about we share our stories next? I'm sure the Trailblazers have some interesting reasons for being adventurers!"

"Surely, you must have far grander reasons for becoming adventurers than our humble ones," Zaryus said with a knowing smile, his sharp eyes glinting in the firelight.

Venti chuckled, waving off the compliment. "Oh, not at all! Honestly, I wasn't much different from any other wandering bard when I started out. I had nothing but a harp, a head full of mediocre poetry, and barely enough coins to pay for a drink."

As he spoke, a wistful smile crossed his face. The memory seemed distant, yet warm.

"Thankfully, a few kind souls helped me through those lean times. After that, I started performing wherever I could, hopping from one stage to another. Of course, I also had to dodge thugs demanding 'protection fees.' Those days were a mix of wit, luck, and a little mischief."

"But I was fortunate. I gained the freedom to wander, to see places I'd never imagined. That's when I realized I wanted to embrace a freedom even greater than the world itself—and that's how my journey began."

Stelle, listening quietly, could easily picture it. Venti's carefree attitude always carried an undercurrent of earnestness, and his story perfectly fit the person she had come to know.

March 7th, however, seemed more skeptical. "Wait, does that mean Sampo wasn't lying back in Belobog? He said something about a wild past like that."

She turned to Dan Heng. "What do you think?"

Dan Heng, however, didn't respond immediately. The earlier discussion about dragons had stirred something in him—a painful recollection from his past. Though the dragons of this world were different from the Vidyadhara, he couldn't ignore the parallels.

While the Vidyadhara's history was meticulously preserved, their secret techniques, especially those concerning the transformation into dragons, remained shrouded in mystery and taboo.

"Hey! Dan Heng!" March 7th poked his cheek, her puffed-up expression showing her irritation. "Don't just space out! It's your turn to share why you became an adventurer."

Dan Heng leaned away to avoid her finger, his tone steady but indifferent. "There's not much to say. My reason isn't so different from yours."

"Oh…" March 7th deflated a little. "If we're talking about being picked up and drafted into the Trailblazers, then yeah, I guess we're in the same boat."

Stelle nodded in agreement. "That's pretty much my story too. I wasn't exactly lost, but thanks to the train, I've been able to pursue things I care about."

"Fascinating," Zaryus murmured, his voice carrying an almost reverent tone. "In my tribe's tongue, your organization could be called the Carriage of the Stars. Truly remarkable."

"Indeed," Mimiya added, her voice soft with admiration. "It must be fate that brought such capable people together."

Fina, on the other hand, blinked in confusion, still processing the stories. Her trance only broke when Zaryus handed her a skewer of roasted meat. She eagerly bit into it, savoring the rich flavor while sharing her church's homemade milk wine with the group.

Mimiya contributed elven tea cakes—soft, green confections with a subtle tea fragrance. Even Venti brought out some black rye bread and ale from Belobog, sharing it freely despite its strong kick.

As the fire crackled and the group enjoyed their meal, March 7th shared some snacks of her own. Meanwhile, Dan Heng and Stelle, neither of whom were fond of sweets or snacks, quietly indulged in the shared feast.

---

Under the twin moons—one a ghostly green, the other a regal purple—the rescued halfling scout stirred awake. Dazed at first, his eyes scanned his surroundings until they landed on the group around the fire.

Spotting Mimiya's silver-ranked adventurer insignia, he quickly approached, assuming her to be the team leader.

"Miss, I have urgent intel to share!"

"Huh? Oh, I'm not the leader." Mimiya gestured toward Venti, who was cheerfully drinking with Fina. "That guy over there is."

The scout's face twitched as he noticed Venti's relaxed posture and the plain white porcelain badge hanging around his neck. His voice rose in disbelief.

"I'm being serious here! That cave contains a chaos entity beyond normal specifications. Sending white porcelain newbies into that place is tantamount to suicide!"

The scout's frustration grew as he assessed the group. With four members sporting white porcelain badges, this team's composition defied adventuring logic. A group of seven was already unusual, but four of them being ranked as absolute rookies? It bordered on absurdity.

"Listen," Mimiya said firmly, cutting through his disbelief. "Those badges are just a technicality. If it were up to me, I'd rank them gold without hesitation—even if it meant breaking every guild rule in the book."

The scout hesitated, scanning her face for any hint of mockery. But the seriousness in her gaze and the quiet confidence radiating from the team spoke volumes.

"...I see," he muttered, unsure whether to trust her words or his instincts. "In that case, Captain, may I proceed with the briefing?"

Venti, having put aside his mug, nodded with uncharacteristic focus. "Go ahead. Tell us everything you know about the cave."

The scout began his report, his tone grave.

"The cultists inside call themselves the Unprayed. Many of their members are dead, sacrificed in the summoning ritual. What's left are about ten necromancers controlling undead and laying cursed traps throughout the lair. You'll need a skilled tracker to navigate safely."

"Leave that to me," Mimiya said confidently, her chin held high.

The scout continued without reacting to her bravado. "As for the chaos entity… it's a blood-aspected beholder. Its tentacles can consume flesh, and the eyes on its tendrils can inflict severe mental corruption. Avoid direct eye contact at all costs, or you'll regret it."

The group exchanged serious looks. Chaos entities were unpredictable and deadly, their very nature warping reality.

"This thing isn't just strong—it's dangerous in ways adventurers like us can barely comprehend," the scout warned. "I'll say it again: do not meet its gaze directly, no matter what."

The meeting lasted until midnight as the group carefully formulated their strategy.

By dawn, the team was ready. Weapons drawn, spells prepared, and minds focused, they began their march toward the beholder's lair.

---

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