Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking

The eye of the storm, centered around the Extraterrestrial Flame, swept the Silvermane Guards high into the air, narrowly saving them from the fiery ring that scorched everything below.

Just seconds more and they would have been consumed in the blaze, leaving them dazed and struggling to believe they had survived.

The scent of melting rubber from their boots finally grounded them, reminding them this was no near-death vision but reality.

"Was it Lady Bronya who saved us?"

The thought crossed their minds almost in unison.

But a few had already noticed Bronya being carried away by Lieutenant Dunn, her expression just as stunned as theirs.

"It wasn't Lady Bronya?"

One of the younger guards murmured, confused.

But then, a playful laugh seemed to echo around them—light-hearted yet somehow unsettling.

"Alright, time to prepare for landing! Try not to twist an ankle!"

The gentle voice urged them on, and the guards braced themselves for the descent.

The winds cradled them as they floated down, only releasing them at a safe height. Air currents gathered around their feet, preventing their melted soles from sticking to the ground and rendering them helpless targets.

Such precise control left even the seasoned soldiers in awe, and what's more, the wind felt like a blessing that sharpened their movements.

Fireballs that would normally be impossible to dodge now seemed as light and slow as children's balloons, and some guards instinctively raised shields, surprised by their newfound agility.

Who was it?

Who could project their voice across the battlefield, pull them out of a fiery trap, and grant them this blessing?

Whoever it was, the surviving guards felt a surge of gratitude.

But the Extraterrestrial Flame seemed to sense its growing frustration, and its core flared up.

In the scorched patches left by the fire rings, crystalline elements began to coalesce, forming bird-like crystal constructs.

"It's summoning reinforcements!"

An experienced guard shouted, hoping to provide any help he could.

This was why the Silvermane Guards had lost so many to these creatures in the past.

As the flame's moving core, the Extraterrestrial Flame could continuously harness crystal elements from the Rift.

It could draw on these elements either as "fuel" for itself or to summon "allies," as natural to it as breathing.

In seconds, the once-spacious street was filled with crystalline beasts.

They rose into the air like flocks of birds, their intense heat warping the surrounding environment to suit their birth.

No matter how many they destroyed, new crystal creatures would respawn within moments, feeding off the residual energy of the fallen to draw in more elements.

In an established flame domain, they multiplied endlessly, growing in number until they darkened the skies.

Even the best fighters would be overwhelmed, surrounded and worn down by their sheer numbers. The high casualty rate was no mystery.

To win against these odds, only a decapitation strike would work.

But judging from earlier, the one aiding them was likely aligned with the Path of Harmony, a supporter.

In that case, they wouldn't be able to eliminate the source.

As the guards braced themselves to call off the rescue, a soft melody filled the air.

It flowed like a mountain stream, soothing and cool, reinvigorating their spirits as their burns began to heal.

The gentle power in that melody strengthened the soldiers' resolve to protect this "gifted soul" who had aided them.

Just as one of them began to call out, a green arrow streaked across the sky, descending like a shooting star…

The arrow's impact birthed a massive vortex of wind, pulling in the crystal beasts and even the Extraterrestrial Flame itself. The guards watched in awe as a swirling tornado took shape.

The monstrous creatures, which had once plagued the Silvermane Guards, were swept up like tattered cloth in a washer, unable to resist the fierce winds. The vortex took on an icy hue, a frosty edge forming around it that slashed through everything inside.

When the vortex dissipated, every crystal creature was gone, their elemental energies scattered to their base particles. At the eye of the storm, the Extraterrestrial Flame lay sprawled on the ground, its core extinguished and its massive body defeated.

In stunned silence, the guards absorbed the scene until that same gentle voice broke the spell.

"Apologies! I had to search a bit for the perfect Everwinter stone, but luckily, I made it in time."

This time, the voice didn't come on the wind—it was right beside them.

They turned to find a young, striking bard standing nearby.

"Hey there, everyone! I'm Venti, the greatest bard in Belobog—and possibly the whole world."

He proclaimed without shame, as though performing for them on a bustling street.

When the guards only stared, Venti gave them a sly smile.

"Hmm? Why do you all look like you've seen a ghost? Was my entrance that shocking?"

A few of the more bashful soldiers quickly averted their gazes, feeling embarrassed.

The oldest among them, however, stepped forward to thank Venti sincerely.

Further back, Dunn and Bronya, who had been retreating, rushed to rejoin the group, Bronya locking eyes with Venti.

"…It's you, Venti…"

Bronya didn't know what to feel.

A mixture of guilt and relief swirled inside her, leaving her momentarily speechless.

"It's been a while, Lady Bronya."

In contrast, Venti seemed at ease, greeting her cheerfully. But the formality of "Lady" made Bronya's heart ache a little.

Her story with him began one month ago.