Honkai Star Rail: Corruption System

Boom!

An invisible yet mountain-heavy, terrifying pressure, with Acheron at its center, suddenly spread out in all directions!

The facets of the magnificent crystal chandelier in the lobby seemed to distort for a moment. The air felt as if it had been sucked out, suffocating! The pressure wasn't a violent storm, but more like the silent collapse of a star, so heavy that space itself seemed to groan under the strain.

The face under Black Swan's veil instantly lost all color, her breath seemingly frozen. She instinctively moved back, almost pressing herself against Daziel, as if only by doing so could she draw a sliver of reassurance.

It's over. As a Memokeeper, the only two people in Penacony she couldn't see through were about to fight.

Daziel's eyelids lowered slightly, no emotion visible in his grey-gold eyes, as if he were merely admiring a silent painting.

At his fingertips, the Aether Coin with its intricate patterns quietly slipped into his palm. Its touch was cold, bringing him a bit of calm.

He didn't look at the Memokeeper who was practically leaning on him; his attention was entirely focused on that bluish-purple figure.

"I choose you..."

The low murmur dissipated in the deathly silent lobby. The surface of the coin suddenly lit up with complex, profound light patterns.

The light wasn't dazzling, but rather deep and restrained, like a microcosm of the universe's birth and final destruction, containing a heart-stopping power.

With a humming sound, a colossal figure materialized out of thin air, almost occupying the entire dream space.

It wasn't an ordinary physical entity, yet it exuded a pressure more suffocating than any substance.

The scorching heat of Destruction and the vibrant life of Propagation, two completely different yet perfectly fused Path auras, swept out like an invisible storm, causing even the air to distort!

It was Phantylia!

Using Skaracabaz the Star-Crushing Swarm King as a blueprint, this Emanator's body was meticulously crafted by the hands of Ruan Mei, then devoured all the fiery cores of the Heliobus within the Creation Furnace.

At this moment, Phantylia's power was even more terrifying than when she possessed her immortal body of Ambrosial Arbor.

Her stunningly beautiful yet indifferent face held a bizarre charm, a mix of brutality and desire, enough to make anyone with a weak mind instantly fall into depravity.

As soon as Phantylia appeared, her gaze fell softly on Daziel. She bowed slightly, her posture elegant and submissive.

"Benefactor... I have arrived."

Black Swan's pupils contracted violently; she almost thought she was hallucinating!

This power...

It was absolutely Emanator-level!

And an Emanator of two Paths!

What made her brain shut down even more was that such a terrifying existence actually addressed Daziel as...

"Benefactor"?! And was so... docile, like a little pet?!

If not for the formidable enemy before them, Black Swan really wanted to ask—

Daziel, you bastard, just how many more trump cards are you hiding?!

Isn't the scope of your 'souvenir' collection a bit too wide? You can even collect Emanators?

And it's even this giantess-level kind of play...

Phantylia completely ignored the Black Swan whose expression management had utterly failed, turning her calm gaze to Acheron opposite her.

The will of Destruction and the pulse of Propagation intertwined around her, forming a visible, colorful, yet extremely dangerous distorted force field.

"An Annihilator? How rare. This is the first time I've seen someone walk so far on the Path of Nihility..."

Acheron didn't answer, her hand holding the sword still as steady as ever, but the sharpness in her eyes intensified.

She didn't speak, only slightly adjusting her stance. The aura of nothingness and annihilation around her grew more condensed, as if about to devour all surrounding light.

The great battle was on the verge of breaking out!

Phantylia struck first, her slender palm gently raising her round fan.

Finger-snap, Become Locusts!

It wasn't a world-shaking energy explosion, but countless fine black light dots, as if condensed from the pure laws of Destruction, transformed into the deadliest swarm of locusts, silently biting towards Acheron.

At the same time, on the dilapidated floor, emerald green vines and eerie lotuses grew silently—

It was the power of Propagation quietly spreading, trying to entangle and restrain Acheron's movements.

Although the Abstruse Squama had lost the immortal characteristic granted by the blessing of Abundance, with the authority of Propagation, its ability to self-replicate and divide was almost endless, making it even more troublesome in terms of sheer numbers.

Comparing the two, it was hard to say which was superior for a moment.

Acheron's figure moved slightly. Her steps seemed slow, yet she always managed to exquisitely avoid those quietly growing lotuses and vines by a hair's breadth.

The longsword at her waist was not fully unsheathed, revealing only a sliver of cold, glinting light.

The scabbard flew nimbly in her hand, its trajectory simple and direct, every swing carrying a strange rhythm.

Merely by parrying and striking with the scabbard, wherever it passed, the deadly black light dots and spreading life were precisely annihilated like bubbles.

The air was filled with the hissing sound of colliding and dissipating energies, and the faint whimper of space being torn by invisible forces.

The already damaged decorations in the lobby silently turned into even finer dust from the scattered aftershocks.

Black Swan had to retreat again, desperately holding up a Memoria barrier to resist the terrifying clash, whose aftershocks alone were enough to make her heart pound.

Phantylia's brows furrowed slightly, seemingly a little impatient with this probing stalemate.

The aura around her suddenly changed again. The ferocity of Destruction instantly overpowered the gentleness of Propagation, like a supernova about to explode.

This was Phantylia's strongest blow—

Doom is Nigh!

A beam of destructive light, condensed to the extreme, pure and direct, like a spear of heavenly punishment piercing through the sky and earth, shot abruptly towards Acheron!

This time, Acheron did not use her scabbard.

Instead, she turned her head and said something completely out of the blue to Daziel.

"Curious about this blade? Daziel."

Daziel looked up, slightly puzzled. "What? What are you trying to say?"

"When it is unsheathed, the memories sealed within—memories of when I once wielded it—will surface. From 'Origin,' through 'End'... to 'Nothingness.' This is the meaning of my blade!"

Clang—!

A clear, high-pitched sword cry, like the song of a dragon and phoenix, resounded through the deathly silent lobby, shaking one's very soul!

The longsword was finally unsheathed!

Not fully drawn, only half an inch exposed, yet it already bloomed with an endless sharpness capable of freezing the soul!

The blade's light was not physical, but more like a pure trajectory of "Nothingness," a line that divided reality from the void.

It met the beam of destruction. There was no earth-shattering explosion as expected, only an absolute silence that chilled one to the bone.

The moment the beam of destruction touched the blade's light, it was as if it had fallen into a true black hole. Without even causing a ripple, it silently dissipated, returning to nothingness.

A clear look of surprise flashed in Phantylia's eyes.

She had only seen an Emanator of this level in Lord Ravager Firescourge.

Casually igniting the sun of New Bethlehem, scorching its surface with massive amounts of radiation until it vitrified; creating a giant cyclone with a snap of his fingers, tearing the ecosystem on planet Adyllis to shreds…

And the woman before her could undoubtedly do the same with ease…

Not leaving Phantylia much time to think, Acheron moved.

It wasn't purely about speed, but more like a "conceptual arrival."

One moment she was there, the next, she was within inches of Phantylia.

The longsword in her hand, only half an inch unsheathed, was slowly raised.

The blade was not pointed at Phantylia, but at…

The dim, twisted void above their heads.

It was very clear she had no intention of fighting Phantylia to the death in this false dreamscape.

It was meaningless.

Her target…

From beginning to end, there was only one—

An indescribable, deep sorrow and an aura of absolute finality spread out like a tide.

"Shattered Dreams Morphed…"

Acheron's voice was low, carrying a weariness as if from eons of reincarnation, and an undeniable resolve.

The colors of the entire world, at this moment, as if drained away, rapidly faded.

The vibrant turned into deathly black and white, light and shadow becoming distorted and eerie, like a low-quality ink wash painting.

The outlines of the lobby began to blur and dissolve, as if being violently erased from the scroll of existence by an invisible eraser.

At the end of vision, a boundless sea of nothingness appeared. Merely looking at it made one lose the will to live, feeling that all things in the world had become pale and meaningless…

A giant black hole hung over the sea level, like a cold, black sun, emitting a soul-freezing chill.

A drizzling, completely transparent rain began to fall from the void. It dripped onto the body, bringing with it an erosive power that annihilated all things.

In this collapsing world returning to nothingness, only Acheron's figure remained clear, as well as the longsword slowly falling in her hand.

"…A Paling Rave!"

The blade fell.

No sound, no light, only absolute "Nothingness," devouring all.

As far as Daziel could see, everything was irretrievably returning to nothingness.

Phantylia's figure fluctuated violently in this absolute void. The powers of Destruction and Propagation frantically intertwined and resisted, trying to maintain her existence.

However, before that one strike representing absolute finality, all struggles seemed so pale and feeble.

Her figure flickered like a candle in the wind, the light growing dimmer and dimmer, until finally…

It completely dissipated, as if it had never existed.

Acheron slowly sheathed her blade.

Her hair, at some point, had already turned a frosty white, as if covered by ten thousand years of cold snow.

Her once deep red eyes now seemed to contain the scene of the entire universe entering its final silence—cold, indifferent, without a trace of emotion.

She turned and looked at the solemn-faced Daziel.

"Willing to weep for the deceased, tears fall like rain, filling the river of passage…"

Her voice, like an echo from the deepest abyss, was bone-chillingly cold, every word striking the soul.

"Surging like the tide, to lead you home."

A tear of bright red blood, without any warning, slid from the corner of her eye. Against her frosty white hair, it looked exceptionally tragic.

Daziel felt an indescribable chill shoot up from his spine to the top of his head. It was a tremor from the deepest part of his soul, an instinctive fear when facing the absolute "End."

"Stop here, Daziel. Dying in Penacony's twelve moments will indeed get you sent to the Land of the Exiled."

"But if you were to die in this crack between dreams, you would return to reality. This is my merciless tolerance for you."

Acheron's gaze fell on Daziel. In her indifferent eyes, there seemed to be a strange, condescending pity.

"It seems I'll have to let you experience… the curtain of death once more."

"But this time, it might be more painful than the last."

"Are you ready?"

Just as Daziel felt his consciousness about to be completely devoured by that boundless nothingness, as even his thoughts began to freeze, as if he would completely dissipate in the next second.

In the deepest part of his mindscape, a small point of starlight suddenly lit up, dispelling some of the chill.

A familiar figure quickly took shape, coalescing into a cute, short-skirted girl with grey hair.

It was the incarnation of Daziel's inner world system, the consciousness he had a narcissistic relationship with, Stelle.

Stelle's face wore a hint of obvious helplessness. Her gaze pierced through the barrier of consciousness, looking at the white-haired, indifferent, and terrifyingly powerful Acheron outside.

"Hey, you over there playing with the tachi, that's enough…"

Her voice wasn't loud, yet it resounded with incredible clarity directly in Acheron's perception, carrying a strange penetrating power.

"It was one thing for you to posture and scare him a bit before."

"But this strike is no joke."

There was no hint of jest in Stelle's voice; instead, it carried an undeniable seriousness.

"Even if he wakes up from the dream, his consciousness will suffer from serious after-effects. Are all you sword-wielding types this cringe?"

"And you, every time you use this kind of power, you also get one step closer to that 'Nothingness.'"

"Stop here."

Acheron's white hair fluttered slightly, her expression unwavering, as if she hadn't heard Stelle's warning.

"Apologies, to this young lady hidden in Daziel's consciousness, who shares his origin."

Her voice was still so cold it lacked any human warmth.

"Once this blade is sent forth, there is no possibility of it returning to its sheath."

"Afterward, I will compensate him well."

A bloody glint of the blade condensed in her cold eyes, then transformed into an extremely fine red line, ignoring the distance of space, and slashed directly towards the core of Daziel's consciousness!

Extremely fast!

Extremely desperate!

Completely unavoidable!

However, just as that bloody blade light, capable of severing causality and bringing absolute finality, was about to touch Daziel's consciousness.

Stelle just gently, even somewhat casually, extended a finger and pointed at the terrifying incoming blade light from a distance.

…

Like a searing hot iron touching snow, that terrifying blade light, containing the great power of Nihility and capable of making even Emanators tremble, just like that…

Silently disintegrated, without leaving even a trace of energy fluctuation.

Acheron's pupils suddenly contracted!

Her body jolted almost imperceptibly!

The indifferent expression on her face, which had seemed unchanged for ages, as if long dead, cracked for the first time, revealing an incredible astonishment.

Acheron's frosty white hair trembled almost imperceptibly, the deep red in her eyes like congealed blood.

"I originally thought… this kind of power shouldn't exist."

Her voice tried its best to maintain its coldness, but it couldn't hide the shock and tremor within.

As someone who also walked the Path of Nihility, she knew better than anyone what that meant, how terrifying it was.

The Self-Annihilators embrace the end, seeking the annihilation of all things.

But the Doctors of Chaos were the exact opposite. They frantically pursued the meaning and value of existence.

Trying to prove the preciousness of "Being" to the ultimate "Nothingness."

"I never thought that you could... so easily achieve it..."

Stelle acted as if she hadn't heard the storm in her words, waving her hand casually.

"It's not as exaggerated as you say."

"At most, I just prevented your last strike from directly cutting to the root of his soul."

The strange light at her fingertip quietly dissipated, her tone betraying no particular emotion.

"Stop here. No more fighting."

Stelle's gaze fell on Acheron again, carrying a thoughtful scrutiny.

"The colors on you... are already very faint."

"Don't continue to waste them in such a meaningless place."

Acheron fell silent. The fingers gripping the sword hilt loosened almost imperceptibly.

The cold, hard touch of the scabbard brought her chaotic mind back a little.

"He left behind the threads of the Path, letting the people of the world walk upon them."

Her voice lowered, carrying a sense of inescapable fate.

"Together, they weave an unimaginably large shadow..."

"And that shadow, in the end, will silently envelop them."

Her eyes lost focus, drifting towards the endless darkness in the distance, empty and lonely.

"I... can't turn back anymore."

"I can only keep walking, keep walking on."

"Until I reach the true end of that nothingness."

Between her words, a deep sorrow, so thick it couldn't be diluted, spread out.

It was as if even this bizarre space of consciousness was silently weeping for her.

The transparent rain in the sky seemed to fall even harder.

Silently, yet with a chill that seeped into the bones.

Washing over every corner of this twisted dreamscape.

The atmosphere became incredibly melancholic.

Daziel stared at her, his heart feeling inexplicably heavy.

"Miss Acheron... you..."

Of course, he understood what kind of desperate fate Acheron's words pointed to.

It was the final curse that all Emanators of Nihility could not escape.

Every time she swung that blade that severed the cause and effect of the world.

Every time she brought the "Nothingness" of finality and annihilation to all things.

It meant that the traces of her own existence were also being mercilessly erased, bit by bit.

Her memories, her perceptions, all her connections to this world…

Her frequent bouts of almost natural-ditz memory loss, getting lost, and that ridiculously bad memory.

Were probably not some deliberately crafted, contrasting cute trait.

But the cruelest, heaviest price that had to be paid for walking the Path of Nihility.

Her world was gradually fading, collapsing in an irreversible way, eventually returning to nothingness.

Acheron shook her head slightly, signaling him not to say more.

"No need to worry about me."

"This is my destiny..."

Her tone was frighteningly calm, as if she had long accepted this fated everything.

Just then, Stelle suddenly popped up with a random sentence.

"Hey, you tachi-wielder."

She looked at Acheron, her eyes carrying an inscrutable inquiry.

"Do you still remember... what your favorite peaches tasted like before?"

Peaches?

Acheron was clearly taken aback. A flash of obvious confusion crossed her deep, bottomless red eyes.

She seemed to be trying very hard to remember, trying to search for any remaining fragments from her already blurred taste memories.

Her fingertips unconsciously fiddled with the corner of her clothes, a small gesture she herself might not have noticed.

After a good while, she finally spoke slowly.

Her voice was a little softer than before, carrying an indescribable sense of loss.

"I... already... can't quite remember."

"I lost my sense of taste... a long, long time ago..."

Yes, just as Daziel had vaguely guessed, Acheron's five senses were gradually disappearing.

Taste, smell, touch... even sight and hearing were inevitably, slowly declining.

This once vibrant world, in her eyes, had probably long since been reduced to monotonous shades of black, white, and grey, and that piercing blood red.

All sounds had also become more and more distant, more and more indistinct.

Daziel's heart suddenly stirred. Many details he couldn't figure out before became clear at this moment.

No wonder, in that dream fragment before, Acheron would so calmly say...

Whether to rely on direct physical contact to break the dream's balance and help him escape.

It turned out it wasn't because she was inherently licentious.

It was because she had probably long lost the ability to "feel."

She had even forgotten the most basic sense of taste.

How could she possibly experience that kind of ultimate pleasure originating from the body's instincts?

To her, that was probably just a kind of...

Meaningless, even somewhat boring, physical exercise.

Probably even if Daziel used his modifier to turn her body's sensitivity to the maximum, there would be no reaction.

She would just be like an exquisitely made, yet cold and soulless puppet.

No matter what strong stimuli were applied from the outside, it would be difficult to stir even the slightest ripple in her already numb heart.

A person who has forgotten even the taste of peaches.

How could she possibly indulge in that brief, illusory ecstasy?

She probably didn't care anymore.

This body, to her, was probably just a vessel to carry the authority of Nihility and swing the blade of finality.

And because of this.

She could propose such a shocking suggestion without batting an eye.

She could display such an absolutely indifferent posture in the previous battle.

Her heart had probably long become cold and numb on the long road of walking the Path of Nihility.

Stelle looked at Acheron's wistful appearance, but the corner of her mouth curved into a strange arc that others couldn't understand.

"In the end, it's just because you're walking on this broken path of Nihility."

"There's too much 'Nothingness' stuck to you."

"That stuff is like maggots on a bone, constantly gnawing away at your sense of existence."

"If..."

Stelle's tone suddenly took on a hint of almost imperceptible temptation.

"I could make those fading colors on you come back?"

"Let you feel the reality of this world again?"

Acheron suddenly lifted her eyes, her deep red pupils staring intently at Stelle.

"You... are you joking with me?"

Her voice was full of incredible doubt.

"If you really have such a heaven-defying ability..."

"..."

"Those hopeless lunatics, the Doctors of Chaos."

"Would probably immediately worship you as a new god."

Those guys who frantically pursue the meaning of existence would absolutely go completely insane if they knew of this possibility.

This was fundamentally subverting the very basis of the Path of Nihility's existence!

Stelle shrugged indifferently, her expression excessively relaxed.

"Elsewhere, perhaps not."

"But here..."

She looked around at this bizarre, rule-chaotic space of consciousness.

"It's not entirely... impossible to try."

"After all, this is a place where countless consciousnesses converge and entangle."

"In a way, the rules here are not the same as in the outside world."

"The boundary between 'Being' and 'Nothingness' is not so clear-cut and insurmountable."

"If you don't believe me..."

Stelle's gaze turned to Acheron, a hint of cunning in her eyes.

"We can start with your sense of taste, how about it?"

"Let you taste... flavor again."

Acheron's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, her eyes watching her warily.

"How to restore it?"

She didn't believe there would be such a free lunch in the world.

The erosion brought by the Path of Nihility, how could it be reversed so playfully?

But Stelle didn't answer her question directly.

She suddenly turned around without any warning, her movement as fast as a flash of lightning!

Then, before anyone could react, she grabbed Daziel's pants and, along with the underwear inside, pulled them down below his knees!

The whole action was crisp and clean, as smooth as flowing water, even carrying a sense of inexplicable familiarity!

"Hey! What the hell are you doing, you damn system?!"

Daziel was caught off guard. He only felt a sudden coldness below, and subconsciously covered his crucial parts with both hands.

His face instantly flushed with astonishment, shame, and an incredible anger.

This sudden turn of events made his mind, which had been through great storms, shut down for a moment.

But Stelle completely ignored Daziel's murderous gaze and flustered protest.

She turned her head to the completely dumbfounded Acheron beside her.

A mischievous, almost triumphant smirk appeared on her face.

But her eyes carried an undeniable seriousness and certainty.

"Well, want to give it a try?"

Her voice seemed to carry a strange magic, full of enchanting power.

"It's very simple. You just need… your tongue."

Her finger, without any hesitation, pointed at Daziel, the implied idea self-evident.

"As long as your tongue isn't too clumsy."

"Be a little… more nimble…"

"And you can immediately regain the sense of taste you've long lost."

"You'll taste… a flavor a hundred times more vibrant than that peach in your memory."

The air seemed to completely freeze at this moment, a deathly silence.

Only the transparent rain in the sky continued to fall silently.

Daziel stood rigidly in place, his hands tightly covering his vitals, his cheeks and neck flushed red with shame and anger, wishing he could find a crack in the ground to hide in.

Black Swan, standing not far away, had long since dropped her jaw in astonishment. Even her mysterious veil couldn't hide her dazed expression; she couldn't say a word.

Acheron stood there blankly, her black and white figure, symbolizing Nihility, seeming even dimmer at this moment.

She looked at this absurd to the extreme, even somewhat outrageous scene before her.

Looked at the serious expression on Stelle's face that didn't seem fake.

Looked at Daziel's... which was particularly clear under the faint light... the part that symbolized life and desire.

Her heart was hit by an unprecedented storm.

Reason frantically told her this was too absurd, this was absolutely impossible!

But from the deepest part of her soul, that instinctive desire for "existence."

That endless weariness of the cold world that had long lost its color.

Was frantically screaming and clamoring in the bottom of her heart.

Perhaps…

The taste of peaches…

And… a taste more vibrant than peaches?

Can I really… feel it again? Even for just a moment?

Stelle's voice sounded again at the inopportune moment, like the whisper of that venomous snake in the Garden of Eden, full of deadly temptation.

"Well, you cringe swordswoman?"

"Want to… make a bet?"

"With that remaining courage that perhaps hasn't been completely worn away by nothingness, to touch that 'reality' that is within reach?"

Acheron's fingertips began to tremble uncontrollably.

In the depths of her deep red eyes, intense struggle, deep confusion, and a desire that was about to erupt frantically intertwined and collided.

Finally, she slowly raised her hand.

…

Finally having made a certain decision.

___

🔥 PATREON FLASH SALE: 30% OFF! 🔥

Yoo-hoo! ✨ Director Walnut here with a killer deal for you!

For a limited time only, get 30% OFF on Patreon and secure your early access to all content!

What's more, by joining now you'll help us smash our community goal! We're just 14 members away from unlocking 10 BONUS CHAPTERS for everybody!

Be the hero who gets us there! Subscribe with 30% off today!

👻 Join the fun at: patreon.com/Walnutchan