Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking

Merry Christmas!

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The Monstrous Beholder had recently undergone a mysterious surge in strength. Though the exact reason remained unclear, it was likely tied to the calamity that streaked across the sky not long ago.

Not only had its intelligence skyrocketed, but it had also further honed its abilities, developing new uses for its powers. This rapid evolution elevated it to a level comparable to a god-tier general—one capable of citywide destruction.

The sacrificial ritual intended to summon it shouldn't have worked given its amplified strength. However, using its unique traits, it divided and weakened itself temporarily, then reconstituted with enhanced flesh, exploiting a loophole in the summoning array to enter the material plane.

Its summoners, who sought to enslave the creature for their purposes, were instead its first feast upon arrival. The sacrifices and offerings presented to it proved worthwhile, enabling it to recover roughly fifty percent of its original power. During the feeding, it also sensed another presence—a scurrying little rat.

As a "vision-based" monster, it was especially attuned to the gazes of other living beings.

To hunt down the escaping interloper, it spread malevolent intent through mental waves, drawing nearby goblins, creatures of limited intelligence, to form a crude blockade. Once the rat was dealt with, these goblins would make for a convenient next meal. However, these pitiful creatures, worse than sewer frogs, were all wiped out—every single one of them.

Clearly, someone else had stumbled upon them and effortlessly dispatched them.

Though vastly superior in rank, the Monstrous Beholder was still in a weakened state immediately following its summoning. Confronting this unknown threat head-on might jeopardize its position, especially with its intelligence prematurely exposed.

Among the interlopers, none stood out as having extraordinary mental strength, but there were two irritating individuals who reeked of the faith of female deities. Their divine attacks, if they managed to land, could inflict significant damage.

Given these circumstances, laying traps to thin the enemy's numbers before a direct confrontation was the wisest course of action. Drawing from the knowledge it absorbed from consumed creatures, the Monstrous Beholder took control of the unfaithful stragglers nearby and, during the adventurers' rest, began laying its snares.

Eventually, its carefully crafted traps lured the prey step by step into its domain.

Suspended in the air, its single massive eye gleamed with mockery and malice.

"Now then, where should I start my feast?"

Once locked in direct eye contact with it, no creature of weak resolve could hope to resist.

The adventurers, already struggling to stand, exemplified this truth.

To eliminate any chance of things going awry, the Monstrous Beholder didn't mind waiting a little longer—or even playing with its food.

Its malicious gaze lingered on the soft, pale skin of the female adventurers present. The contrast their bodies would make when drenched in blood filled it with twisted fascination.

Soon, these girls' bodies would become breeding grounds for new tentacle offspring. Just imagining their screams and reactions filled the creature with eager delight.

Yet, oddly enough, despite the time that had passed, someone remained standing.

"...Huh?"

The Monstrous Beholder's massive eye fixed itself on Stelle. She was no longer frowning but gazing back at it with an unsettlingly calm expression.

That gaze.

It was deeply displeasing.

Even more so because, despite its "invisibility," she was still staring directly at it. Could it be that her mind had already shattered, leaving her in a daze?

No, that didn't seem right. Even if her mental fortitude was stronger than the others', resisting its psychic corruption should have required direct protection from a deity's miracle.

And yet, there was no trace of the false, cloying stench of those other two believers on her. Her aura was so clean and pure that it resembled that of a newborn child.

There was only one explanation.

"…You're not human, are you?"

The Monstrous Beholder lowered itself slightly, its enormous pupil fixated on her. Surrounding it, hundreds of smaller, split-off tendrils sprouted mini-eyes.

These mini-eyes caused only minimal mental pollution individually. If one focused on pleasant thoughts, the contamination could be entirely neutralized. However, their cumulative effect, bolstered by sheer numbers, slowly eroded rationality.

Earlier, its prey had lowered their guard, believing there were no hidden dangers, only to fall victim to the second trap of direct eye contact. Could it be that even it had been deceived?

Stelle remained silent, maintaining that distant, detached demeanor as if listening but simultaneously not listening.

"…Still pretending? Is it because you care about your human companions? Or perhaps…"

As it attempted to divide her attention with its questions, it secretly cast an Insight spell.

The source of unease finally became clear.

The adventurers who had previously appeared disoriented were now repeating subtle, mechanical movements—like characters in a poorly animated flipbook endlessly looping through minor variations.

The eerie inconsistency sent the Monstrous Beholder's instincts into overdrive.

Especially now, with its amplified psychic pollution failing to elicit any reaction, it became evident that they were somehow bypassing its contamination detection.

This is bad. That woman is just a decoy! The real threat is her companions!

Realizing this, the hidden tentacle offshoots scattered throughout the area began absorbing the blood pooled on the ground. Their bloated forms rapidly mutated into larger mini-eyes, which then merged and multiplied.

Through this grotesque process of growth and amalgamation, a massive, deformed blood-eye sphere began to form, nearly filling the cavern.

A stronger aura of chaotic corruption and mental pollution spread outward, its intensity suffocating.

Yet, a radiant barrier of light stood firm, shielding everyone. The adventurers, who had previously appeared disoriented, quickly regrouped.

"Heh, so we've been found out, huh?"

March 7th tilted her head with a touch of regret on her face, though it didn't take long for her characteristic optimism to return. She grinned.

"Looks like we weren't the only ones underestimated. Guess we also gave this big eyeball too much credit."

The shields surrounding the group were her handiwork, crafted using her mastery of the Preservation's power. Not only could these shields block attacks, but they also possessed purification capabilities. In gaming terms, they cleared negative status effects.

Whether it was elemental burns, erosion, electrocution, or even the far more insidious effects of psychic corruption, March 7th's "cure-all" shields were up to the task.

"Save the showboating for later. Priority is taking down the monster," Dan Heng said curtly. His dazed expression was gone, and his spear, Cloudpiercer, was poised to strike. At the first sign of an opening, he would act.

Meanwhile, Stelle, who had appeared lost in thought, rejoined their encrypted squad channel.

In truth, March 7th had already blessed the team with her signature "Maiden's Charm" at the onset of the ambush.

What a joke. This isn't our first expedition. They had contingency plans for sudden developments. Neither Himeko nor Uncle Yang would have let them venture out otherwise.

After silently resolving their disoriented state, Venti wove a soundproof barrier from the wind, masking their subsequent discussions.

All that apparent confusion—the "oh no, we're doomed" posturing—was a deliberate ruse, concealing their tactical intent.

While the Monstrous Beholder had been ogling the female adventurers, they had been calmly coordinating their strategy.

March 7th had even hoped for a more thrilling battle of wits, only to find herself somewhat disappointed. So that's all this oversized eyeball's got?

"I'll go first," Stelle said succinctly.

"I'll provide support," Dan Heng replied with equal brevity.

"Guess I'll cover the rear. It wouldn't look good to sit around doing nothing," Venti added with a light chuckle, plucking at the harp on his waist.

In an instant, the harp transformed into a magnificent longbow. Its vintage craftsmanship glimmered with intricate, gear-like embellishments, and its arms flared out like the wings of the sky. The bowstring retained the three cords of its harp origin, glowing faintly with an otherworldly aura.

This was a legendary artifact even Mimir herself dared not wield.

Its ethereal tones and exquisite form defied conventional understanding of what a bow should be. Yet another voice within cautioned against missing even the smallest detail of Venti's impending archery.

Meanwhile, the Monstrous Beholder launched a mental shockwave, shattering March 7th's barrier with an audible crack.

Seizing the moment, Stelle charged forward, wielding her bat with ferocious precision. Every tentacle spawn barring her path exploded on impact, their meager psychic corruption unable to phase her.

Her resistance to mental attacks, bolstered by the Stellaron within her, was formidable. Think a little mind-muck can stop me? Fat chance.

Seeing Stelle—a presumed caster—fight like a berserker left both the Monstrous Beholder and some observing Spriggan scouts momentarily stunned. Since when did mages fight like this?

Unconcerned by the speculation, Stelle's raw physicality broke through the barrier of writhing tentacles. Her bat swung straight at the monster's central eye.

The Monstrous Beholder's reflexes, however, were equally swift. A thick membrane enveloped its eye just in time, deflecting the direct hit. The force dissipated outward like ripples on water, leaving the creature unharmed.

Two massive tentacles, bristling with serrated maws, lunged at Stelle from behind.

March 7th's barrier would not withstand such a blow. Injury seemed inevitable—but in their tightly knit squad, no one fought alone.

Dan Heng's spear pierced through the tentacles mid-air, pinning them to the ground. The viscous mucus coating them failed to hinder Cloudpiercer's sharpness.

Ignoring the monster's shrill cries, Dan Heng maintained his cold composure, pressing down with both hands. The motion sheared the tentacles cleanly, the wounds cauterized by green wind energy that prevented regeneration.

The Monstrous Beholder retaliated with a flurry of tentacles, but Dan Heng deflected them all in a fluid motion. A rising knee kick followed by a perfectly timed spear thrust shattered the appendages into a writhing mess. Seizing the opportunity, he advanced, his spear impaling the beast's central body.

Greyish innards spilled from the wound, but the creature's survival instincts kicked in.

In a desperate bid to escape, it detonated its own body, releasing a grotesque explosion of blood, viscera, and tissue to obscure the adventurers' vision. The fragments became bait for its retreat, as its core body slithered away, seeking refuge to recover.

Or so it thought.

Before it could react, a rain of arrows descended.

Venti's volley was relentless, the true definition of a rapid-fire assault. The arrows struck with unerring precision, obliterating every fragment of the monster's dispersed form.

As its core writhed in desperation, the final, charged arrow was already nocked and drawn.

How did he find me?!

The arrow, infused with wind energy, shot forth, striking the creature with devastating accuracy. Its twisted body writhed against the cavern wall, but its visual systems revealed a grim truth in its final moments.

Venti hadn't found it. He hadn't needed to.

In that instant, the bard had aimed at every possible target—including the core.

Why search when you can simply eliminate everything?

This was no archer.

Real archers targeted specific marks with pinpoint accuracy. What Venti demonstrated transcended archery itself.

As the Monstrous Beholder's consciousness faded, the bard wore an expression of playful relief.

"Phew, that was close! Almost broke a sweat there!"

The monster's residual spite flared into a final curse, but before it could release, the priestess stepped in with purification magic.

It writhed in agony, its entire form feeling like it was aflame. Amidst the burning pain, it could still faintly hear the companions' praise of the bard's performance.

"Master Venti's archery is simply divine. Truly an eye-opener…"

"No kidding. That's not archery—it's practically magic. I can't even imagine mastering something like that! This is the kind of skill you'd expect from a god!"

Even the most adept elves seemed in awe.

The accursed bard, however, just shrugged and said nonchalantly, "Heh? That impressive? I mean, sure, it's an ancient divine technique passed down from the godly era. But honestly, it's just like those old forgotten poems—an artifact of a bygone age."

If it's a relic, let it stay buried in history!

Consumed by vengeful thoughts, the Monstrous Beholder's consciousness was finally extinguished.

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I, WiseTL, in my infinite grace and generosity, have bestowed upon you an extra 2 chapters as my holiday gift. 🎁 Consider it a glimpse of my benevolence—cherish it well.

May your festivities be as golden as my treasury and as plentiful as my updates. Farewell, mortals, until the next chapter. 😉

Now, bow in gratitude. 🌟