Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking

In her dream, Nahida saw a solitary tree.

It grew ceaselessly, day and night, eventually bearing a single, radiant apple that glowed with life.

Its branches spread far and wide, its canopy shrouding the sky as golden leaves shimmered like sunlight. But more unsettlingly, its limbs intertwined to form a strange and grotesque image—a thousand hands and eyes.

The aura emanating from it was unmistakably that of a power greater than the stars themselves.

Yet…

When Nahida reached out to touch the tree, all she felt was the hollow, empty sensation of a lifeless shell.

It was as if this once-mighty being had long since lost its soul, its essence dissipated.

"Why have you become like this?" she asked softly.

The only response was the rustling of leaves, a sound like gentle music carried by the breeze.

The dream ended quickly but left Nahida with fragments of crucial insight.

The forest dwellers' longevity seemed tied to something far deeper than she had initially suspected.

Though she didn't yet know why their long lives didn't result in the affliction of Eternal Shade, it was likely connected to the forest seas they had lived in for generations.

Perhaps it was due to a distortion in their perception of time, or some other guiding force. From the behavior of the elven archer and Mimia, it was clear their mental age didn't quite align with their physical age.

This suggested that the forest dwellers' reverence for their natural home—the forest sea—wasn't mere superstition. It likely served as a form of protection.

And everything pointed toward the World Tree, the origin of their race.

This is getting interesting.

The thought sparked a flicker of excitement in Nahida as she considered what secrets might await her in the Forest of Kings.

---

At dawn, the elven archer, dwarf sorcerer, Goblin Slayer, lizardman priest, and young priestess gathered near the entrance to the ancient ruins, crouched in the shadows of a thicket.

Just as their intelligence had indicated, the goblins' numbers had grown significantly, and they had even domesticated magical hounds to serve as companions.

Two goblin guards stood nearby, clutching crude stone weapons and wearing leather armor scavenged from fallen adventurers. They yawned loudly, barely keeping themselves awake.

Long ago, goblins had lived above ground, their ancestors large and powerful—a trait still evident in rare, ancestral throwbacks known as Hobgoblins.

For reasons lost to history, they had been forced underground, their bodies gradually adapting to their new environment by becoming smaller. The leading theory was that some calamity had driven them to retreat into caves, where they evolved to survive.

Because of their subterranean lifestyle, their natural rhythms became inverted—they were active at night and rested during the day.

In larger goblin settlements, a few sentries were always left to stand guard during daylight hours.

"This means we'll have to ensure we don't alert the rest when we attack," the lizardman priest whispered, his form camouflaged amidst the leaves.

"Waking them from their precious sleep will bring the whole horde down on us," the dwarf sorcerer murmured, stroking his braided beard with a grim expression.

"Tch, what a mess we've gotten ourselves into," he grumbled.

"Ha! If it were just the three of you, this would be a tough job," the elven archer teased from her hiding spot, her voice brimming with confidence. "But that's why the Princess sent me along, isn't it?"

"Oh? So, Long Ears, you're saying you've got a plan to take them out quietly?" the dwarf sorcerer asked, playing along.

"Of course! Just watch and learn," she said with a proud smirk.

Standing up, she brushed the dust off her hands and retrieved her bow. Its limbs were adorned with intricate leaf-like carvings that glowed faintly green.

The moment the bow was in her hands, her usual playful demeanor transformed into an aura of composure and precision—one befitting a master archer.

Thwip—

The sound was so soft it resembled the rustle of falling leaves, but the accompanying arrow was swift and deadly.

Elven arrows were imbued with natural enhancements—speed, silence, and piercing power.

More impressively, under the archer's meticulous control, the arrow seemed guided by an invisible hand.

Even Goblin Slayer, initially assuming she had missed, was taken aback when the arrow curved mid-flight, striking its targets with surgical precision.

In one motion, the arrow pierced the skulls of both goblin guards and the throat of a nearby magical hound that had just started to growl in alarm.

The two goblins and their hound collapsed silently, unable to raise an alarm before their deaths.

The precision and speed of the elven archer's attack left everyone in awe. Even the well-traveled lizardman priest couldn't help but praise her.

"Archer, your skills are truly a delight to witness. It's less a technique and more akin to a miracle granted by the gods."

"This is a craft honed by time, not something any magic spell can replicate," she replied with a hint of pride.

While her comment carried a trace of arrogance, it was not without merit. In a world where most could only cast three spells a day, her archery was a boundless resource, as long as arrows and stamina remained. It was a skill worthy of her pride.

Yet, the significance of her ability wasn't fully appreciated by all.

Goblin Slayer, for one, wasted no time marveling at her precision. He crouched over the fallen goblins, meticulously slicing open their bellies to examine the contents of their stomachs.

The findings were grim. Alongside partially digested remains—fingers and other unidentifiable bits—there were no signs of fat-laden organs or other distinguishing features that might reveal a victim's identity.

As sentries, these goblins would have had first pick of the food. Judging by the digestion levels, the captured males had likely already been consumed. As for the females—they were likely still alive, but only because goblins kept them for breeding and sport before eventually eating them too.

This grim realization confirmed a troubling hypothesis.

For such a large group of goblins to function and for captives to be spared temporarily, the leader of the nest had to be more than a typical goblin chief. A leader with overwhelming strength was necessary to maintain control and enforce order.

But whatever the circumstances, Goblin Slayer's purpose here was simple: to kill goblins. Everything else would proceed according to plan.

After splashing goblin blood on themselves to mask their scent, the group cautiously entered the ancient ruins.

---

The initial exploration was uneventful, with traps avoided and obstacles circumvented. Eventually, the group stumbled upon what appeared to be a goblin "dump site."

Surprisingly, goblins, despite their filth, adhered to rudimentary hygiene practices. They separated their living spaces from waste areas, and these dumps often contained remains from fallen adventurers—gear, broken weapons, and other discarded items.

These remains served another purpose: identifying the number and fate of missing individuals.

Among the debris, they discovered a forest elf barely clinging to life, her body mutilated beyond recognition. A goblin, hiding in a crevice, attempted to ambush anyone approaching her.

After neutralizing the attacker, they summoned dragon tooth warriors to carry the wounded elf back to the surface camp before pressing deeper into the ruins.

The next chamber resembled a gladiator arena. Dozens of goblins rested in the open area, while a few patrolled as sentries.

Using the dwarf sorcerer's Liquor Slumber spell and the priestess's newly learned Silence miracle, the group dispatched the goblins quietly and efficiently.

However, the stench of blood soon attracted the attention of the nest's true leaders.

A towering troll emerged, its dark green skin nearly scraping the high ceiling. Its grotesque face twisted into a sneer, radiating malevolence.

Beside it stood a hunched, emaciated dark mage, his skeletal frame covered in tattered robes. His sinister laughter echoed through the chamber.

"Well, I wondered why those noisy goblins suddenly went quiet," the troll scoffed, his expression dripping with disdain. "Turns out they couldn't even guard the door properly."

"Don't be so harsh," the dark mage replied, his voice dripping with malice. His gaze lingered lasciviously on the priestess and the elven archer. "After all, the invaders are adventurers, likely sent by that heretical kingdom to die. Still, they've brought us some entertainment in the form of these women. That alone is worth celebrating."

"Ha! You gutter-dwelling rats hiding in the shadows sure talk big!" the elven archer retorted, her sharp words cutting through the air.

The dark mage chuckled coldly, his expression twisted with mockery. "Let's hope that sharp tongue of yours remains when I'm done with you. Unlike the last elf, who fainted after only a few minutes."

The mention of their fallen kin only fueled the forest dwellers' hatred. For the forest elves, the dark elves—traitors who had summoned malevolent gods and set forests ablaze—were enemies to be exterminated on sight.

With tensions at a peak, the battle erupted.

The troll roared, summoning fire spirits as it chanted a magical incantation. A massive fireball began forming in its palm, growing to a size capable of incinerating multiple humans in one strike.

"Karlibenkris Crescent: Flame Swell!"

The intense heat rivaled that of dwarven forges, prompting the dwarf sorcerer to shout in alarm.

"Fireball incoming!"

"There's no time to dodge!"

The arena's vast, open space offered no cover. The fireball would overtake them before they could escape.

Reacting without hesitation, the priestess closed her eyes and prayed.

"Merciful Earth Mother, grant us your protection: Holy Barrier!"

A radiant barrier rose from the ground, just in time to meet the troll's fiery assault. The fireball slammed into the barrier with a deafening explosion, shaking the entire chamber.

"Yakta: Projection!" the troll bellowed, hurling the fireball with all its might.

Crash!

The holy barrier held but began to fracture like fragile glass. The flames spread, scorching the ground and leaving the adventurers with nowhere to hide.

If they were hit directly, most would lose the ability to fight.

Gritting her teeth, the priestess channeled a second Holy Barrier, reinforcing the crumbling shield. The flames recoiled, and the fire spirits surged back toward the troll, causing it to suffer minor burns.

The adventurers seized the moment to strike.

Goblin Slayer carried the exhausted priestess to safety, while the elven archer leapt onto the arena's upper stands, firing an arrow that pierced the dark mage's arm mid-incantation.

"Damn you, elf!" the mage hissed, retreating behind the troll.

Unable to deliver a decisive blow, the archer gritted her teeth and kept moving, seeking another opportunity.

Meanwhile, the lizardman priest summoned dragon tooth warriors.

"Ancestor of clawed dragons, rise on two legs and run with haste!"

The skeletal warriors engaged the troll head-on, buying precious time.

The dwarf sorcerer cast Stone Bullet, unleashing a hail of razor-sharp projectiles. The troll staggered under the barrage, bleeding from numerous wounds, while the dark mage narrowly avoided being crushed beneath his ally's weight.

"Damn pests!" the troll roared, swinging its massive club.

The adventurers struggled to maintain their offensive. Just as the tide seemed to turn in their favor, the troll's club struck Goblin Slayer and the lizardman priest, sending them hurtling into a pillar. Blood splattered from their injuries as they collapsed to the ground.

The elven archer's attempt to distract the troll ended with her being struck by a shadow bolt from the dark mage. Cursed markings spread across her body, sapping her strength.

The dark mage laughed, summoning shadowy hands to bind the adventurers.

For a moment, all seemed lost.

But none of them noticed the small plant tucked into Goblin Slayer's belt, now buried beneath debris. Its roots extended into the soil, pulsing faintly with life.

---

Above, the forest dwellers' camp erupted in fury upon hearing of their comrades' plight. The rangers began preparing a rescue mission.

Meanwhile, Nahida calmly adjusted her "focus," a serene expression on her face as though watching events unfold through an invisible lens.

"As expected… things have taken an interesting turn," she murmured softly.

---

T/N: stellaris HSR got bonked again :((, off to the hub the scribble one (will be reuploaded there this week will put in end of chapter when it has been)

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